-collide

On the eve of the great lunar eclipse, a lone figure stood atop the highest hill in the village. They wore a long, flowing cloak that billowed in the gentle night breeze, their hood casting a shadow over their face. The figure held a bronze-hued hourglass, the sand within slowly trickling from one end to the other. The stars twinkled above, their light refracting through the thin veil of clouds, painting the landscape below in shades of silver and indigo. The air was heavy with anticipation, as if the very earth itself knew that something momentous was about to occur.

As the moon began its ascent into the night sky, the figure raised the hourglass high above their head, letting the last grains of sand fall through the narrow neck and splatter against the ground. With a sigh, they turned away from the vista and began to make their way down the hill. The village lay sprawled out before them, the homes aglow with candlelight and flickering torches. The figure's steps were silent, their cloak billowing around them like a ghostly shadow. They moved with a grace that belied their years, their hands folded calmly behind their back.

The air was thick with the smell of wood smoke and the sounds of laughter and music spilling out from the taverns and inns. The streets were crowded with villagers, some gathered in groups to watch the eclipse, others simply enjoying the rare occasion for celebration. The figure passed by them unnoticed, their hooded face a mystery to all.

As they made their way through the bustling streets, the figure paused at a small wooden crossroads, their hands clasped before them. They closed their eyes, taking a deep breath, and then opened them, letting the light of the moon bathe their face. For a moment, they stood there, as if caught between worlds, before turning down a narrow alley, the cobblestones gleaming dully in the dim light.

The alleyway led to a small courtyard, overgrown with weeds and shrouded in shadow. In the center stood a crumbling stone fountain, its once-sparkling waters now stagnant and murky. The figure moved silently across the courtyard, their cloak swirling around them like a living thing, until they reached a small, unassuming door set into the wall. They raised their hand to knock, hesitating for a moment before doing so.

As they waited, they could hear muffled voices and the faint sound of laughter coming from within. They took a deep breath, steeling themselves for whatever it was they were about to face, and knocked once, twice, three times on the door. There was a moment of silence, and then the sound of footsteps approaching from within. The door swung open, revealing a dimly lit chamber beyond.

The figure stepped inside, their hood still cast in shadow. The room was small and cramped, with bare stone walls and a low, vaulted ceiling. A single candle flickered on a rough-hewn table, casting long, wavering shadows across the floor. In the center of the room stood a tall, cloaked figure, their back to the door. They turned slowly, revealing a face that was both familiar and hauntingly beautiful. It was her, the one they had been searching for, the one they had been following all these years.

Her eyes widened as she recognized the figure standing before her. "You... you've come back," she whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief and fear. The figure remained silent, their hands still folded calmly behind their back. They closed the distance between them, drawing nearer to her, until they were mere inches apart. The air was thick with tension, with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

The room seemed to shrink around them, as if the very walls were closing in, trapping them in this moment. The candle's flickering light cast dancing shadows across their faces, revealing the lines of stress and sorrow etched into their features. The figure's hood still hid their face from view, but the way they stood, the way they breathed, the way they held themselves... it was all unmistakably her.

"Why have you come back?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes darted back and forth between the figure's still form and the door behind them, as if searching for an escape route. "What do you want from me?"