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The sounds were blurry, a muffled static that ebbed and flowed like a distant tide. You weren’t even sure if you were hearing anything at all. It had all happened so fast… too fast. That man… and the girls. Your beautiful, radiant girls.
Alcina had done what she could. Her monster form had been a whirlwind of claws and fury, ripping him apart for what he had done. The echoes of her snarls still haunted your ears, though they were drowned out by the silence that followed. A silence so heavy it pressed against your chest, suffocating you with its weight.
You had been married for decades.
Decades spent building a life together, through blood, sweat, and sacrifices. Raising your daughters had been no small feat, but you had done it. Together. Every "Mother! Mother!" that echoed through the halls, every gleeful laugh, every sibling spat followed by the hum of buzzing flies it had filled your life with chaos, yes, but also with love.
The house was silent now. No more laughter. No more buzzing. Just the groan of old wood settling beneath the weight of memories. The emptiness was a living thing, curling around you, pressing its cold fingers against your skin.
You and Alcina spent hours by their graves. Days, maybe. It was hard to tell anymore. The cold bit into your bones as you sat side by side on the frozen ground, the snow falling in soft, delicate flakes that clung to your hair and shoulders. Neither of you spoke. There was nothing left to say. Your hands would sometimes touch, barely brushing, a small anchor in an endless sea of grief.
Now, you were inside, though the chill still lingered. The fire in the hearth burned low, the embers casting faint shadows on the walls. A record played softly in the background, but you couldn’t make out the tune. It was just another layer of noise in your foggy mind.
Alcina sat on the couch beside you, her once elegant posture now slumped, her broad shoulders hunched as though the weight of her sorrow had finally broken her. Her wine glass was abandoned on the table, its crimson contents forgotten. The bottle dangled loosely in her hand, the last drops swaying as she tilted it absently.
You stared at her profile, her sharp features softened by the dim light. Her eyes, once blazing with fire and determination, were empty now, sunken and ringed with shadows. You wondered if you looked the same.
The song on the record player shifted, a slow, mournful tune filling the room. You blinked out of your haze, the melody tugging at the edges of your consciousness. A voice, deep and soulful, sang of love and loss, of things that could never be reclaimed.
Alcina’s fingers tightened around the bottle. “They were everything,” she whispered, her voice raw, broken. It was the first time she had spoken in days.
You reached out, your hand trembling, and covered hers. “I know.”
She turned to you then, her golden eyes glassy with unshed tears. “What’s left of us?” she asked, her voice cracking. “What do we do now?”
You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You didn’t have an answer. What was left of you? Two hollowed-out souls bound together by memories and grief, sitting in a house that no longer felt like home.
The record skipped, a harsh crackle interrupting the mournful song before it carried on again, as if nothing had happened.
“I keep expecting to hear them,” you murmured. “To feel one of them tugging at my sleeve or asking for something. It feels wrong to sit here and not… not hear them.”
Alcina closed her eyes, her face crumpling. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she brushed it away angrily, as though ashamed of it. “I couldn’t protect them,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I should have been able to… but I couldn’t.”
You tightened your grip on her hand. “You did everything you could. You fought for them. For us. Don’t carry that alone.”
She shook her head, her shoulders trembling. “It’s all I have left to carry.”
The fire crackled softly, the flames flickering low, as the song reached its final notes. Silence settled over the room again, broken only by Alcina’s quiet, ragged breaths.
You leaned into her, resting your head against her shoulder. She was cold, colder than she used to be, but you stayed there, drawing what little warmth you could from the contact.
“We’ll carry it together,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm in your chest. “Even if it’s all we have left, we’ll carry it together.”
For a moment, Alcina didn’t respond. Then, slowly, she rested her head against yours, her tall frame folding into yours like a tree leaning into the wind.
The house was silent, but you could still hear them. Their laughter, their buzzing, their calls of “Mother! Mother!” echoes of a life that was no more. And together, you mourned.
The record crackled faintly as the song faded into silence, only to be replaced by the soft, haunting notes of another melody. It was slow, deep, and soulful—one of those songs that seemed to reach out and cradle your heart, even when it was breaking.
You felt Alcina shift beside you, her tall frame straightening as her grip on the wine bottle loosened. She set it down with a hollow clink against the table. For a moment, she stared into the distance, her golden eyes unfocused. Then, as though some invisible force had tugged at her, she turned to you.
“Dance with me,” she said softly, her voice low and filled with something fragile yet desperate.
You blinked up at her, startled. “What?”
“Please,” she murmured, her hand already reaching for yours. “I… I need to feel something that isn’t this emptiness. Just for a moment.”
Her fingers were cold against your skin, but her touch sent a familiar warmth rushing through you. You hesitated, your heart aching as you looked at her face—so regal, so proud, yet crumbling under the weight of grief. Without a word, you let her pull you to your feet. The room felt smaller somehow, the space around you shrinking as Alcina guided you into the open area near the fireplace. The glow of the embers painted her pale skin in shades of gold and amber, and for a fleeting moment, she looked like the woman you had fallen in love with decades ago. She placed one hand on your waist, the other clasping yours gently. Her movements were tentative at first, as though she were afraid she might shatter you—or herself. You slid your free hand up to her shoulder, your fingers brushing against the smooth fabric of her gown.
The music wrapped around you like a cocoon, the singer’s voice rising and falling in mournful, bittersweet waves. Alcina swayed slowly, her steps uncertain but deliberate. You followed her lead, your bodies moving together in quiet harmony. The world outside the room seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you and the soft glow of the firelight.
“I used to be better at this,” she said, a faint, self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips.
“You’re perfect,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
Her gaze met yours, and for a moment, the sadness in her eyes seemed to soften, replaced by something warmer, something more alive. Her grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer until there was barely any space between you. You rested your head against her chest, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat a faint but grounding presence beneath your ear. Alcina lowered her head, her cheek brushing against your temple, her breath warm against your skin.
The song swelled, its lyrics spinning a story of love and loss, of holding on even when the world seemed to crumble around you.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice breaking.
“For everything. For not being able to save them. For… for not being enough.”
You lifted your head, your hand moving to cup her cheek. She leaned into your touch, her eyes closing briefly as though savoring the sensation.
“You are enough,” you said, your voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill. “You’ve always been enough, Alcina. And no matter how much we’ve lost, we still have this. We still have each other.”
Her eyes opened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a glimmer of something other than sorrow in them. She dipped her head, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss so soft it felt like a whisper.
The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, as though the two of you were trying to pour everything you couldn’t say into it every apology, every promise, every ounce of love that still burned between you.
When you finally pulled apart, the song was nearing its end, the last notes lingering in the air like a bittersweet goodbye.
Alcina rested her forehead against yours, her arms wrapped tightly around you. “Stay with me,” she whispered. “Always.”
“Always,” you replied, your voice a quiet vow.
The fire crackled softly behind you, the room still and quiet once more. But this time, the silence wasn’t empty. It was filled with the steady rhythm of your breathing, the warmth of her arms around you, and the unspoken promise that, no matter what, you would face the darkness together.