i have died everyday waiting for you
Mort’s smile softened as Alys spoke, as pure and brilliant as the golden light spilling from behind him. He remained still, a steady presence on the threshold between his halls and the living world, giving the moment wholly to them. At the sound of her name, Sascha’s ears perked, her snowy head lifting higher. For a heartbeat, the clearing held its breath.
Then, with a joyous yip that was unmistakably hers, Sascha bounded forward.
The little ursur crashed into Alys with all the clumsy enthusiasm of a creature who had missed her person beyond all telling. Her cold nose nudged insistently at Alys’s hands, her thick paws scrabbling at the ground in excitement, and the familiar, comforting weight of her settled against the seer’s lap as if not a day had passed between them.
Mort watched them, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners, dimples flashing deep. "She chose freely," he said softly, almost reverently. "And she chose you."
The light behind him pulsed once more, and Mort glanced back toward it—toward the place he would return to. When he looked at Alys again, it was with quiet pride. "Take good care of each other," he murmured. "And remember—life is a gift. Even when it hurts. Especially, perhaps, when it hurts."
With that, Mort stepped backward into the golden light, leaving behind the lingering warmth of his blessing—and the sound of an ursur’s joyous huff filling the night.
~FIN
Then, with a joyous yip that was unmistakably hers, Sascha bounded forward.
The little ursur crashed into Alys with all the clumsy enthusiasm of a creature who had missed her person beyond all telling. Her cold nose nudged insistently at Alys’s hands, her thick paws scrabbling at the ground in excitement, and the familiar, comforting weight of her settled against the seer’s lap as if not a day had passed between them.
Mort watched them, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners, dimples flashing deep. "She chose freely," he said softly, almost reverently. "And she chose you."
The light behind him pulsed once more, and Mort glanced back toward it—toward the place he would return to. When he looked at Alys again, it was with quiet pride. "Take good care of each other," he murmured. "And remember—life is a gift. Even when it hurts. Especially, perhaps, when it hurts."
With that, Mort stepped backward into the golden light, leaving behind the lingering warmth of his blessing—and the sound of an ursur’s joyous huff filling the night.
~FIN
