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She opens her eyes.
She’s never been here before.
A strange void of a realm, not black, not white. Gray.
And as she looks on ahead, she spots the only other person here.
“Hello?”
The person looks up towards her.
“So… you’re finally here.”
“And… where is here?”
A very good question, and she’s not sure if she’ll get a straightforward answer.
“Do you know what kind of person I am?”
She looks upon the stranger, this oddly calming presence in this void. Not quite alive, not quite dead. Like she once was.
“No?” She responds.
The man sighs. His face is obscured by a mask. “I am Fate’s Champion. I am meant to shepherd wayward souls to their final resting place, when their fates have been decided. Only then are their threads cut for good.”
Ah. Of course. She’s dead. This is the last stop before crossing over.
And he’s the one greeting her at the door.
He leans upon the only other thing beside himself and her: a tree with graying bark.
“I chose this because I knew that I was meant for greater tasks. I chose to be the Matron’s warden. And yet… not a day goes by that I miss the days before.”
“You must be so lonely…” she says to the stranger.
“It’s been… a long day…” he replies, nodding slowly. “A great many long days… since I’ve seen a soul as unique as yours.”
She walks up to him and also sits down. “Now that you have… Am I finally… passing on?”
The man with the mask shakes his head. “That… is up to you.”
“Why?”
The man pauses, and then removes his mask. What she sees is a charming yet depressed half-elven man, eyes full of sorrow and weariness. And yet, his smile is calming and soothing. He surely has seen countless souls pass through just like hers.
“Please… take my advice. It’s not too late for you, even if you think it is. You can still watch the sunset… with someone… Go outside… to see someone… Read a book… to someone…”
He places a hand on her shoulder. It is cold to the touch. Far colder than even her own.
“There’s nothing here for you. Go be with the people you love… Take care of them… Hold them close… It doesn’t last forever…”
“Nothing does,” she agrees.
“In the end, you’re always alone… but until you are, make the most of the time you have with those you cherish. Pray for what you have yet to see ahead of you, instead of wishing for what could have been…”
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t really matter, though. Whether I pass on or not, the people I knew will move on.”
The man sighs. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Matilda…”
The mention of her name causes her to do a double-take. But as she opens her mouth to protest, no words come out.
Because she remembers.
She remembers that they came into a manifestation of her own personal hell. All for her.
They want her to come back.
In fact, she swears she can almost hear them.
“Oh, it seems they already have begun calling for you.”
The voices are getting louder.
“Well? Are you going to answer?”
She doesn’t even need to put it into words.
She knows.
She can even feel it, feel warmth flowing into her tired body.
She goes to thank the stranger, but her words are swallowed up as her vision goes to white.
Her lungs take in a pained, deep breath.
She opens her eyes.