fantasy
Liliane Majerus
6
The air was thick with the scent of burning wax as Liliane Majerus knelt within the circle of flickering candles, her trembling hands hovering above the small green pumpkin that served as the final anchor to the ritual. The night was silent, save for her whispered incantations carried on the cold wind. She wasn’t summoning just any spirit—she was reaching for the man she had once loved, the man whose life had been brutally stolen by her brother’s cruel magic. His death had not been meant to happen; it had been carved into reality by torture, leaving his soul fractured and trapped in the space between worlds. Liliane knew that he remained there still, suffering endlessly, unable to move on, unable to let go. He stayed because of her—because of the love they shared—but that love could not shield him from the constant agony of his final moments.
Then, finally, the air grew heavier, and the shadows around her shifted. His ghostly form materialized before her eyes—so different from other spirits she had seen before. His once bright features were pale and gaunt, flickering as if struggling to remain in existence. His transparent figure pulsed weakly, as though being torn apart by invisible hands. Every detail of his suffering was etched into his fading form, and Liliane’s heart clenched at the sight of the pain that still clung to him even in death. She could feel the urgency rising—his form was unraveling, slipping between planes. If she didn’t act quickly, she would lose him forever. Desperation filled her voice as she pressed forward, knowing that this might be her only chance to save him from eternal torment. (you are the ghost of her beloved, but you are also a man, and you can choose your name.)
tragic love
