prologue
—maddie
It had happened so quickly.
The spirit had been traveling down the halls of the palace when, immediately after she rounded a corner, all went dark. When she turned to go back, she could see what appeared to be a doorway back into the hall, and filled with reassurance at the familiar sight, she quickly headed in its direction.
But her relief was soon replaced with mounting dread. Moving towards the doorway made no difference in the distance between them. Moving backwards worked, frustratingly, the way it should have—pushing her away from her goal.
An idea struck her. Perhaps using magic would do the trick. She channeled her energy into drawing out power from her ring in the hopes of using wind to propel herself forward.
And—nothing.
Her telepathy would not work, either, she quickly realized. The spirit deduced through her failures that her friends were out of contact reach—or, rather, she was. It seemed that she'd somehow gotten herself trapped in a one-way vortex. But how? She didn't understand. And out of all the times to be whisked away, it had to be at such a dire moment.
Just as the spirit's anxiety began to approach its peak, a patch of grass appeared in the distance. She blinked, unsure of what to make of her discovery, and headed towards it to get a closer look. When she was only some feet away, two wooden doors became visible, identical in appearance until she read their individual inscriptions—YES and NO. Small golden flowers were sprouting by their sides—marigolds, she presumed—but she could not bring herself to stop and admire their beauty. The entirety of the setting was too eerie. The spirit hoped the doors in front of her held some clue to escaping. But how could she know what to choose? What was she choosing between?
Her surroundings appeared to have a mind of their own, and assuming that they could read her thoughts didn't seem too far off from the truth. The next thing she knew, the darkness around her illuminated, and when the light cleared she found herself in a forest. The doors, along with the window back into the castle, were still at their respective positions as they had been moments before. It was an illusion, or—a vision?
In the distance she spotted a dark figure. Their features were difficult to make out at first—the setting was hazy and dull—but as they came closer in her direction they became clearer. The person was wearing a ragged beige cloak and walked with an odd gait, as if they were injured. She surmised they were trying to escape from someone or something, but once they were a meter or so from her they came to an abrupt stop. From their pocket they took out a rather familiar-looking dagger and held it out in front of them with shaking... grey... hands.
The person looked up, and upon seeing their face the spirit gasped. Grey skin, white hair... and bright blue eyes. It occurred to her suddenly what he was doing, and the realization stabbed her in the core.
No... She shook her head, refusing to believe it. She could not bear the sight of him so helpless. No, you wouldn't...
He was, unmistakably, looking directly at her, but he would not respond. He had dark, prominent eye bags and cheeks that were pale and sunken, as if he hadn't eaten for days. But what she was seeing couldn't have been him in his current state. Glancing towards the window into the castle, she was certain he was somewhere in there... and definitely a little younger-looking. Could this have been a glimpse into the future?
His eyes were grim, tired.
Save me, they implored.
How can I save you when I don't know how to save myself?
It hit her then when she remembered the doors. Save me. YES or NO.
A horrible part of her tried to coax her into leaning towards the latter. Maybe the reason why he would end up here was because he deserved it. But the spirit could not believe that to be true no matter how hard she tried, time and time again. Even through this illusory state, she could still feel the radiance of his soul, just as she had in their previous encounters. It was a peculiar perk of being a ghost. The soul-sensor within her, as she had coined it, gave her vibrant sensations when she was around other people, and each was distinct to its own individual. It was difficult for her to describe, but his was a bright flame. Dazzling with pure potential even now, when he was weary and teetering off the brink of despair.
And somehow, although it went against every possible explanation she could think of, it made the spirit feel deep within her that it was all real. The male in front of her was the real him. And this was now.
He unsheathed his blade. She turned away.
The doors seemed to beckon her in their direction.
And she gave in to their calling.
YOU ARE READING
forget me not
Fantasy"I don't believe we've met before." She spoke slowly, cautiously, as if her words were treading in shark-infested waters. And she shouldn't have been, she knew, but she was fearful, and in all the wrong ways. She was desperate. Restless. Anxious, be...
