i have died everyday waiting for you
Mort listened in silence, his gaze never straying from Maea’s face. The light of dawn caught in his eyes, but it was something gentler that shone there—something eternal. At her final words, his smile returned, quiet and full of pride. He nodded once, slow and reverent. "Then it will be so."
Turning his head, Mort lifted a hand—not with flourish, but with the ease of someone simply drawing back a curtain. And in the space beside him, the air shimmered. Light spilled through in a narrow seam, golden and flickering like the flame of a lantern glimpsed through fog.
It wasn’t a door. It wasn’t even a gate. It was just enough. Through that small, trembling breach, something moved.
The light came first—delicate, pulsing, familiar. Then the shape: small, glowing, impossibly soft as it drifted into the clearing. Shii’s form shimmered like memory made manifest, their glow dim in the early light but no less alive for it. They hesitated at the threshold, dancing in the air for the space of a heartbeat.
Then, with a soundless surge, the will-o-wisp darted forward—toward Maea.
Mort watched, his hands folding loosely in his lap once more. His voice, when it came, was almost a whisper. "Welcome them home."
Maea has brought her companion back from the dead!
Turning his head, Mort lifted a hand—not with flourish, but with the ease of someone simply drawing back a curtain. And in the space beside him, the air shimmered. Light spilled through in a narrow seam, golden and flickering like the flame of a lantern glimpsed through fog.
It wasn’t a door. It wasn’t even a gate. It was just enough. Through that small, trembling breach, something moved.
The light came first—delicate, pulsing, familiar. Then the shape: small, glowing, impossibly soft as it drifted into the clearing. Shii’s form shimmered like memory made manifest, their glow dim in the early light but no less alive for it. They hesitated at the threshold, dancing in the air for the space of a heartbeat.
Then, with a soundless surge, the will-o-wisp darted forward—toward Maea.
Mort watched, his hands folding loosely in his lap once more. His voice, when it came, was almost a whisper. "Welcome them home."
Maea has brought her companion back from the dead!
