Everything was darkness.
Not the kind of darkness you see when you close your eyes at night.
This was deeper. Colder. Vast and silent as the void between stars.
Naosa floated in it like a lost soul.
She didn’t know how long she’d been suspended there. Minutes? Years?
There was no pain. No warmth. No sense of time passing.
Only gravity—pulling her downward, slowly, gently, toward something unseen and unknown.
“Where… am I…?”
She tried to move, but there was no ground beneath her feet.
Her limbs felt weightless, disconnected from herself.
Her voice made no sound in the endless silence.
And then—far below—she saw it.
A narrow cliff, barely illuminated by a faint, ethereal light. Jagged and ancient, like broken teeth.
She was falling toward it with inexorable slowness.
But just before she would hit, something grabbed her arm with desperate strength.
“Ah—!”
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It hurt. Whatever had seized her was strong—desperately, powerfully strong.
She dangled there, caught between the fall and the grasp—between surrender and salvation.
She looked up through the darkness.
A hand.
She gasped in pain. “Let go…” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “It hurts… just let go… please.”
But the hand held firm, unwavering.
“I won’t,” came a voice—low and shaking with emotion.
She gasped with sudden recognition. That voice…
Before she could call out, something shimmered in the surrounding darkness.
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A figure stepped forward with ethereal grace.
A woman, dressed in a black gown that gleamed like polished piano lacquer.
Long hair swept like flowing ink behind her. Her face—unfamiliar yet hauntingly beautiful.
But her eyes…
They were her own eyes, looking back at her.
“Who are you…?” Naosa asked with trembling wonder.
The woman smiled gently, with infinite sadness and understanding.
“I am you—and not you. I am Séraphine—the name you inherited without ever knowing its true weight.”
Naosa’s lip trembled with dawning realization.
“Am I… dead?”
“Not yet. But you’re dangerously close.”
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Séraphine stepped forward with fluid movement. The shadows parted respectfully for her passage.
“The messengers call to you, don’t they? They whisper sweetly that your mother is waiting for you. That there’s eternal peace in letting go.”
Naosa’s eyes filled with tears at the painful truth.
“Mama… I heard her voice… she called me…”
Suddenly, a soft, achingly melodic voice echoed through the infinite void:
“My poor dear… it must hurt so much…”
Naosa’s head snapped up with desperate hope.
“Mama?! Mama—wait!”
She tried to pull free from the hand that held her, but the grip tightened protectively.
“Let me go! I want to see her—I need to!”
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But Séraphine’s voice rang out, firmer now with ancient wisdom.
“That’s not your mother. Not truly. The dead cannot cross into this liminal place. Only shadows can. They wear the voices of our deepest longing.”
Naosa whimpered, still reaching toward the phantom voice.
“But… I miss her so much… I want to go with her…”
Her voice trembled with profound longing. The ache of that voice—her mother’s voice—wrapped around her like the most beautiful lullaby. It felt safe. Warm. Final.
Her fingers began to slip from the hand that held her.
“Mama…” she whispered again, reaching toward the voice in the darkness.
A single step would take her to eternal peace.
One step—and all the pain would be gone forever.
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But just then, a faint sound rose—somewhere far above.
A voice. Rough. Broken. Achingly familiar.
“Don’t you dare leave me.”
Her breath caught in her throat. That voice…
Séraphine knelt at the edge with knowing eyes.
“Then tell me, Séraphine—do you want to see your mother, or the one you love?”
Naosa hesitated, tears spilling over like a dam breaking.
And then—she closed her eyes and made her choice.
“…Alex.”
She reached her free hand upward with desperate determination.
The grip around her arm tightened with fierce love.
She looked up—and saw him.
Alex.
Face soaked with tears. Eyes burning with desperate love.
Clinging to her with everything he possessed.
“Don’t you dare leave me,” he said, voice cracking with emotion.
“I’m here. I’m here—and I’m never letting go.”
Naosa reached for him with both hands, choosing life over death, love over loss.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I didn’t want to leave.”
Alex pulled with all his strength.
Hard.
And for the first time since she fell—Naosa rose.
As she ascended, Séraphine smiled through her own tears of joy.
“Go,” she whispered in blessing. “Back to the one you love.”
And then—
In the very end, the shadows surged upward and swallowed her completely.
A low voice echoed from the void with malevolent promise:
“If she crosses back, we can never touch her again.”
A second voice answered, colder, more final:
“Then take what she clings to most. Not her soul—something deeper.”
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The world was light again.
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© 2024 reminise. All rights reserved.
This chapter gave me chills. The scene between Naosa and Seraphine was beautifully written. And that moment when Alex’s voice broke through the darkness? ✨
This chapter is poetic, emotional, and cinematic all at once. The ending line is so ominous, and my heart is already breaking knowing they’ll be facing more difficulties ahead.
Thank you so much for this beautiful comment!
I’m really glad the emotions came through — that scene between Naosa and Seraphine means so much to me too.
Your words truly touched me