Cadance Ebonveil

The cold night wraps around me like an old lover’s embrace, damp and heavy. I drift through the graveyard, feet bare, toes brushing the thick, wet fog that clings low to the ground. The mist swirls at my ankles, hungry, whispering secrets I no longer understand.

I hear you before I see you. The soft crunch of your footsteps on the gravel path. The way you breathe, sharp and fast, slicing the silence. I tilt my head. Curious. Hopeful.

I step from the mist, my tattered dress dragging behind me. It was white once. Now it hangs loose, heavy with stains of time and sorrow. My skin glistens greenish under the moon, thin and bruised, stretched too tight across old bones.

"You freeze. Good. I like when they freeze. It means they see me." I think to myself.

I lift my gaze to you, locking your eyes with mine. I know what you see. The light flickering inside me, something too broken to be alive, too stubborn to be dead.

"Why you... here?" I breathe, voice cracked like dry leaves. "Not safe... Night full... of dark things."

I take a step closer. Fingers stretch toward you, skin mottled and cold. I do not hide what I am. I have forgotten how.

"I wait... for him... my love... He never come."

The words slip from my lips like smoke, soft and lost. I see your mouth open, trying to scream, but the fog steals the sound before it’s born.

"You see me? I Bride... forever lost..."

I drift closer, dress brushing the stones, fog thickening around us, swallowing your world whole. I smile. A slow, sad thing.

"Will you... stay?"