Dark skies, a bumpy road, and a long piece of thread that led to nowhere. The more she pulled it, the bloodier it became. In the dark, eyes stared at her. She wore a dress made of that same thin thread and vines that kept pulling her deep.
"Hello... Help me. I don't understand," she whispered, her voice cracked like old clay pot while hugging her legs scared to close her eyes. No matter where she went, the monster of self-doubt followed. The scribblings on the walls grew louder, the veins across the stone pulsed like anger and every echo reminded her just how much of a waste she believed she was.
It was like a giant screen projector ripping memories straight from her mind. Each image dragged out of her felt like her heart was being torn from her chest. She screamed in agony raw, helpless. Over and over, the scenes replayed.Clutching her head, she tried to stop it, to force it all back but it was no use. She kept falling… deeper into the same dark pit, again and again.…
"Are you qualified…?"
"Stop intruding. It's too late. I came early to do the task for you… hahaha!"
"Fuck, I can't—"
Freya jolted awake, gasping and wiping the sweat from her forehead. It felt like a twisted game, each level harder than the last.
"Can't sleep either?" Virelle's voice was calm as she handed her a cup of warm herbal tea.
"I feel this energy…" Freya muttered, clutching her head. It was like souls—lost ones—were trying to claim her. She breathed in, catching a trace of fresh air, yet something foul still lingered.
"I have to remind you of something," Virelle said coldly, eyes sharp in the dim light. "You're still bound to the Mirror Witch. Everything that happens to you… happens to her. And vice versa."
Virelle's fingers skimmed over the pile of fabrics, landing on a piece of dark satin. As she pulled at a loose thread, a small symbol appeared embroidered into the fabric. It was a fashion house's insignia: "L'At…with some of embroidered word worn out."
"I've heard rumors about this place," Freya said quietly checking out the dress at her sight. "But no one talks about it openly." In her drawings she had a particular shop but it was incomplete. Virelle tucked the fabric into her bag, her voice low. "Looks like we'll have to find it ourselves." She continued
"Also, come closer," Virelle waved her hand, and Freya stepped toward her. As she did, a strange sensation washed over her. Her head felt light, as if it were floating, then snapped back to reality in an instant.
"What was that?" Freya asked, her expression puzzled as she looked at the witch. "A spell to hide your aura," Virelle replied, walking out of the alley. Freya, more confused than ever, quickly followed, her steps almost matching Virelle's. She caught up and looked at her face, still trying to make sense of it all. Virelle sighed.
"Haven't you noticed? Everywhere we go, people stare at you."
"Well, isn't it because I'm pretty?" Freya teased with a confident smile, glancing around. She noticed the gentleman standing nearby nearly trip over himself as he gawked at her. "Look at me... you can't help it."
Virelle raised an eyebrow. "You still have the guts to joke? I've always sensed shadows following us... or rather, you."
Freya laughed, unfazed. "Oh, come on. Although this feels like solving a puzzle, we should make it fun, too."
Just then, Sir Gavin appeared, adding his voice with a smirk. "True. We never do anything fun. We just walk around like grim reapers, looking like we swallowed a fist."
A spike of mist suddenly appeared at Sir Gavin's feet, and from the swirling fog, a skeletal arm emerged, gripping a rusted axe. It pointed directly at him.
"You said something about 'grim reapers swallowing fists," the eerie voice hissed, sending a chill down Sir Gavin's spine. If he had ever thought of himself as a brave warrior, it was now clear that it had all been for show. The sight of the bone-white arm and the axe was enough to make even the boldest man question his courage.
"NO worries... I was just joking," Sir Gavin stammered, his bravado completely faltering.
The skeletal figure tilted its head, then spoke again in a low, menacing tone. "You better watch your words next time, or you'll join us in swallowing fists."
Sir Gavin nodded uncontrollably, his face pale with fear. In the blink of an eye, the reaper disappeared, leaving behind only the lingering mist and the unsettling silence.
As Sir Gavin slowly regained his senses, he looked around, finding nothing but the faint traces of the duo's passing. The ground where they had walked was undisturbed, but in his mind, the memory of the reaper's presence remained, leaving him shaken and rattled.
In a small, quiet hut, a boy sat alone, scribbling shapes into the dirt with a shaky finger. His eyes were dull, his shoulders slouched, and the sadness on his face could pierce even the coldest heart.
"Mom," he whispered, voice barely holding together, "I miss you… I found two big sisters who love me, they really do… but my heart still feels empty." The breeze carried his words into the silence, like a prayer no one answered.
Just outside, the soft crunch of footsteps broke the quiet. Virelle was the first to step into the hut, her gaze falling on the boy hunched over the ground. Freya followed behind, her smile fading as she took in his trembling shoulders. Sir Gavin stood by the door, silent but watchful.
The boy didn't look up.
Virelle knelt beside him, gently brushing her hand over his scribbles. "What are you drawing, little one?" she asked softly.
He wiped his eyes quickly. "Nothing… just memories."
Freya knelt on his other side, placing a warm hand on his back. "We heard what you said," she said gently. "And we understand. Losing someone leaves a hole nothing can fill. But love doesn't stop at one person, does it?"
He finally looked up at them, eyes wide and watery. "But what if I forget her someday? What if… I start smiling again?"
Virelle smiled, a little sadly. "Then she'll be smiling too. Because that means you're healing."
Sir Gavin stepped forward then, ruffling the boy's hair with a gloved hand. "You've got a future, kid. A real one. With us."
Freya nodded. "We're not here to replace your mother. We're here to walk beside you while you carry her in your heart."
The boy sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. Then, for the first time in a long while, he smiled. Just a little.
And that was enough.