She's Gone

The silent village

I tugged my cloak tighter around me, the chill of the dawn seeping through the thick wool. The fog was heavy this morning, pressing in like a warning. But I couldn’t turn back, not with every step pulling me closer to something I couldn’t explain but felt deep inside, gnawing at my heart.

Liora was gone. And no one cared. It was as if she had vanished from everyone’s memory overnight, like a name written in sand washed away by the tide. Her parents, her sister—they looked at me with blank stares when I asked, like I’d imagined her entirely.

But I hadn’t. And I could still feel her, that faint, lingering presence, like the ghost of a melody you can’t quite place.

The village of Eirath loomed behind me, cold and silent, like it always was. Here, emotions were hidden, locked up tight, buried beneath the everyday routines and blank faces of its people. A smile or laugh was a rarity, something whispered about behind closed doors. I’d always felt out of place, too sensitive, too passionate, my emotions always a little too close to the surface. It’s why Liora and I had bonded. She was the only one who made me feel like I wasn’t so… alone.

As I pushed further into the woods, the trees grew closer together, their branches intertwining above me, blocking out the rising sun. I’d always hated this part of the forest—the silence of it, the way it seemed to swallow sound. But today, it felt different. Something was waiting.

I stopped at the old stone bridge that spanned a narrow ravine, the mist swirling thickly below. Liora and I used to meet here, sneaking away from the prying eyes of the village. I could almost hear her laugh, soft and breathless, as we’d dared each other to race across.

“Liora?” I whispered, my voice barely carrying in the stillness.

And then… I saw her.

A figure, barely visible, drifting through the fog on the other side of the bridge. My breath caught. It was her. I would know that silhouette anywhere—the slender frame, the familiar way she tilted her head. But something was wrong. She looked… faded, her features blurred, as though she were a reflection in murky water.

“Liora!” I called, my voice strangled, half afraid she’d disappear if I spoke too loud.

Her head turned, and for one heart-stopping moment, our eyes met. But they were empty, as though she was looking straight through me. A chill ran down my spine.

Without thinking, I stepped onto the bridge. I had to reach her, had to bring her back. I wasn’t going to let her slip away like some forgotten dream.

But the air grew colder, thick with something unspoken. I could feel it wrapping around me, squeezing tight, whispering that I didn’t belong here. That I was trespassing.

“Come back,” I whispered, barely able to breathe as I took another step. “Please, Liora… don’t leave me again.”