Emberlyn

"Who are you?"

The words hit him like a physical blow. Ethan's eyes snapped open to find himself alone in the market square, the concerned Emberlyn of his desperate hallucination nowhere to be seen. The real Emberlyn stood several feet away, staring at him with cold confusion.

"Huh?" The sound escaped him like a wounded animal's whimper.

'Wasn't she just beside me? How did she suddenly end up over there?' His mind reeled, trying to reconcile the vivid embrace he'd felt with the harsh reality before him.

...

"EMBERLYN! PLEASE! PLEASE BELIEVE ME! I'M YOUR HUSBAND!" Ethan's cry shattered the afternoon air, raw and desperate and utterly heartbroken.

The crowd that had gathered around this spectacle began to murmur among themselves. To them, Ethan was nothing more than a madman, a pathetic figure claiming to be married to the legendary Emberlyn Scarlet. After all, everyone knew she was unmarried-a fierce, independent hunter who had never shown interest in romantic entanglements.

"Shut up! You're nothing but a liar!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"Don't you dare come near Lady Emberlyn again!" another voice added.

The crowd's anger turned physical. Fists flew, boots connected with his ribs, and Ethan found himself at the center of a storm of violence. He curled into a ball, protecting his head as best he could, but made no effort to fight back. What was the point? His world had already ended.

Through the rain of blows, he caught glimpses of Emberlyn watching with detached interest, as if observing a mildly entertaining street performance. The woman who had once kissed his wounds better now watched impassively as strangers inflicted new ones.

Heavy clouds had gathered overhead while Ethan wasn't paying attention, and now they opened up in a torrential downpour. Rain fell in sheets, soaking through his torn clothes and washing the blood from his face in pink rivulets.

"Emm... Berr... lyn..." he whispered, his voice lost in the sound of falling water.