[Estimated reading time: 4 minutes]
The night had shrunk. The crackling snaps of the fire were all there was to break the smothering void, and the world around had vanished beyond the reach of the flickering light. Even the constant chirp of crickets had died back. For all she knew, the very earth itself had crumbled behind her. In an uncomfortable way, it felt almost safe. Nothing else existed. Nothing else but them.
"The two of us, again," she said quietly, without peeling her stare from the flames.
"Is that a problem?" The other asked, easily.
She shook her head. Poking at the fire, a fresh wave of heat prickled her skin. The smoke, at least, had the decency to rise, but the lack of wind made the camp feel even smaller. Even more displaced.
She lowered the stick to her side and continued gazing into the chaotic orange dance. "It's always going to be like this, isn't it." It wasn't a question. And she received no answer.
Finally, she dragged herself from the hypnosis and on instead to the cloaked figure sitting on the other side. "Why did you show yourself to me?"
"I didn't," he replied from within his hood, any movement hidden beneath his dark, cascading robes. "You looked at me."
She knew he was right.
The need to disconnect herself from that fact put the poker back in her hand. Silence wove through the crackles. Still the man didn't move.
"Loosen it."
She relaxed her jaw at the gentle command. "So, you were always there?" She already knew the answer.
"Yes," he replied anyway, just as easily as before.
A nod. "...And now..."
"I always will be."
Her nod turned to a bitter shake, her lip curled caustically, and her voice suddenly thickened in her throat. "You have changed...everything."
No remark came. She continued.
"I see your shadow everywhere. The sun is shining, yours is the longest. I read a book, it falls over the pages. I paint, you darken the palette. I walk in the woods, your shadow moves between the trees. I lie in bed, and your shadow persists even in the dark, blacker than night. Even sitting in good company, your shadow still falls over a chair! In a crowd of people, at a crossroads, in a list of options..." her lip curled further, "there you are."
Again, no remark.
"And now," she continued acridly, "while I am alone, with the world shut out, even in peace, you sit there in front of me, staring me in the face."
"I am not staring."
She shook her head again. His lack of emotion or shame or anything felt like a hot knife peeling her chest open. "You have changed everything."
And his lack of response to that boiled her blood hotter.
Her fists clenched on her knees before she pulled her arms about herself. Closing her eyes, she could pretend for a moment that not even he was there, if she tried hard enough.
Then his hollow voice spoke up, shattering any attempt. "Time," he offered, "also changes everything."
"What does that mean?" She asked from behind her arms.
"Those forests you walk in, they weren't always there. The night used to be darker. Books never used to exist."
"Mhm. And what are you saying?"
"That you will learn to stop looking for me."
"Looking for you?!"
"Looking for me. Then," his voice almost seemed to rise, but she conceded that she probably imagined the tone, "once again, things will change. On a scale far smaller than the rest, but one that matters far, far more."
She peered over her arms. "...And until then?"
He didn't move. It seemed it was his hood that was speaking. "Until then, you try. You acknowledge that I exist and make peace with it, rather than fight against yourself. The first step to change is realising the root of the problem. And I," the hood tilted slightly, "am not that root."
Then he moved. It startled her, but she didn't react, even as his long, bony finger moved smoothly through the flames. "Remember: you invited me to your fire."
"I did no such thing," she spat, then black, hollow eye-sockets turned up at her from beneath the hood.
"There are two chairs."
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