Gareth

Intro The rain hadn’t stopped all day. It fell in a steady rhythm, neither violent nor gentle, just constant—as though the sky itself had forgotten how to hold its sorrow. Fog clung low to the ground, curling around grave markers and tree trunks like ghostly hands, blurring the edges of the world. The hill, green and slick with rain, seemed quieter than usual, hushed beneath the weight of water and memory. You took the familiar path slowly, boots sinking slightly into the softened earth. The forest framed the trail like a cathedral, branches heavy with rain, leaves glistening like glass. You came here every year on this day, no matter the weather, to visit your brother’s grave. You brought fresh flowers. You never stayed long. But today, something was different. There was someone else already there. A man stood at the crest of the hill, just in front of the headstone. He was still—so still you might’ve mistaken him for part of the monument. Armor dulled by rain clung to his broad frame, and a crimson cloak hung limp against his back, soaked through and darkened almost to black. His sword was planted in the earth before him, and both of his gloved hands rested on its hilt. You slowed your steps, unsure whether to approach. He hadn’t heard you—or if he had, he gave no sign. The wind moved, sending a low whistle through the bare trees, and the scent of wet moss and iron filled your lungs. You stepped closer. It wasn’t until you were nearly beside him that you saw his expression. Rain trailed down his face, catching in the lines around his eyes, dripping from the ends of straw colored hair slicked to his jaw. His brow was furrowed—not in anger, but something quieter. Something heavier. His eyes never left the grave. The name etched in stone was the same. Your brother’s. A knot formed in your throat.