Her body was too light. Hot and cold at the same time.
She held my hand tightly, as if she knew what was coming — and I... I didn't want to believe it.
"Not now... please, not now..." I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady, but feeling it escape between my clenched teeth.
Her eyes found mine again. Sweet. Calm.
She wanted to stay. I could feel it.
She wanted to go hunting with me in the woods, like we did once. She wanted to hear my stories before going to sleep. To sit next to me, share a plate, laugh at silly things. Walk with me through school, hand in hand, as if the world outside didn't exist.
I felt her hand slip out of mine. Like a thread being cut. As if time had split in two: before her, and now.
"Evelyn..." I called her name one last time, my voice stuck in my throat, tearing through my chest like an arrow.
She tried to speak. Her lips moved silently.
But it wasn't just silence... it was love. I saw it in her eyes. Like a final glow, soft and warm, even as the light faded.
She wanted to tell me so much. I could feel it.
She wanted to tell me how much she loved me — and how much my presence, my smile, my arms around her, had made a difference in her life.
She wanted to say that every moment together had been worth it, that I had been her miracle, her laughter in the midst of pain, her hope when all seemed lost.
She wanted to be there when I fell... when I bled... when I was old, tired, victorious, or broken. She wanted to experience everything—everything—by my side.
She wished she could give me strength, as she always tried to do, even when she was the one who needed it.
And I saw the fear in her eyes too. Not for herself, but for me.
She knew how deeply I loved her. She knew that behind my weapons and titles, there was a boy too pure for this world. She didn't want to see me cry. But she knew... she knew I would.
And in that last moment, in that last breath of life...
She wanted to kiss me again.
Like in the beginning. Like the first time. As if she could freeze time and keep that moment inside us forever.
I leaned in. I rested my forehead against hers.
"If you have to go... then wait for me..." I whispered, my eyes wet.
"I'll come to you. I swear."
And then she was gone.
In my arms, in my eyes, in my heart.
Wherever she went, she took a piece of me with her.
And all that was left was silence... a painful silence... and the certainty that I would never be the same again.
—•
It was late when I heard my father's heavy footsteps on the hillside. The sky was tinged with a pale red, as if the sun itself were slowly bleeding behind the golden clouds. The light filtered through the trees in the cemetery, dancing between the old and new graves, but it brought no warmth.
The world seemed distant... muffled, slow. As if it were sinking in mud.
I sat there since dawn. I heard her mother cry. I heard her brother pound the ground with his fists, as if that would bring her back. And when they left, the silence seemed even heavier. I stayed.
Staying was all I could do.
The tombstone was in front of me, and even without words, even without an answer, I couldn't stop looking at it. It was as if... if I concentrated hard enough, she would move. Maybe smile behind the marble. Call me again.
But no. She wouldn't call me anymore.
"He's been here since morning, sir," I heard Doug say behind me, his voice distant, as if through water. "He's not listening. He's not answering."
My father replied something, but I didn't turn to look. I didn't want to see pity on anyone's face. I didn't want to hear "be strong" or "this too shall pass."
It won't pass.
Evelyn... she was my world.
And now, the world seemed wrong. The air hurt. Breathing hurt. Not in a physical way, but a strange pain between my heart and my stomach. As if every beat was empty.
I felt someone beside me—Benta. She was crying like a child. Always so tough, so cold. And now... broken. She loved her too, everyone loved her. That was Evelyn. Subjected to mud, goat feces, mocking laughter. But everyone who spent time with her... ended up falling in love with her. It was inevitable.
My hand still held the handle of the dagger I had given her. She didn't even know how to use it. She just wanted to be prepared in case I wasn't around.
(I should have stayed closer.)
"You lied to me," I whispered without thinking. "You said you'd wait for me. That you'd stay by my side until the end."
The wind didn't answer.
I clenched my fists.
"Why did you leave like this? Without warning... without a fight..."
My voice faltered. I knew she had fought. She fought harder than any warrior in our clan. She fought against time, against pain. She fought against her own life just so she could smile at me, just so she could hold my hand.
She was stronger than I would ever be.
I felt a shadow fall over me. My father.
"Son..." I heard my father's voice, low, almost fearful, as he stared intently at the dagger resting beside me, stuck in the ground.
I knew what he was thinking. He was afraid that at some point, when the pain became unbearable, I would decide to slit my own throat.
Maybe I was too.
"It's okay, Dad. I'll just stay tonight," I replied in a voice weaker than I expected. It was the first time I had said anything since it all happened.
I saw the relief wash over his face. He bent down slowly and picked up the dagger.
"I'll take this with me."
I nodded, without resistance. I tried to smile, but all I could manage was a strange twitch at the corner of my mouth, as if my face had forgotten how to do it.
He stayed with me all afternoon, beside the grave.
Many others came too. False faces, empty words. People who wanted to show respect, but only desired the favors our name could bring.
My father knew this. When the murmur of visitors began to sound like a celebration, he left.
He left Doug there with me. He didn't trust me to be alone. And I didn't know if I should be either.
Twilight came slowly, tinging the sky red and then a blue that fell into the abyss. Darkness crept over the cemetery like a silent cloak.
The moss-covered gravestones reflected the pale moonlight as if they were made of bones.
The only sound was the cold, damp wind whistling between the graves.
Until...
"Ahahah~" A laugh cut through the silence like a knife through flesh.
My head snapped up. I knew that sound. My heart raced and my tired eyes widened.
I turned to my left.
And there, between the gravestones, I saw it. A silhouette... so familiar. Running lightly, with the same awkward grace I knew so well. She disappeared down the cemetery path, into the shadows.
"Evelyn...?" I whispered.
I stood up so fast I almost fell over. My feet ran without thinking. My chest hurt, each beat echoing like a war drum.
I looked to one side. To the other. Nothing.
"Ahahah~" the laughter again, closer, more intimate, more real. It was her. It was her voice.
When I turned around, I saw something that made me catch my breath.