Cecilia's grasp tightened as the wind stirred, teasing the dust from her hands. The fragile specks danced and scattered, drifting away on invisible currents. She clung desperately to the last handful, her knuckles white with effort, but the wind was relentless. With a cry of anguish, she rose, chasing the swirling dust as it fled across the deck.
"No! Come back! Don't take him from me!" Her voice cracked, raw with fury and despair. She ran, heart pounding, tears streaming as she cursed the universe that had stolen him without mercy. "Not even a body to hold… not even a grave to visit. How am I supposed to say goodbye?"
The dust scattered into the night, vanishing into the darkness like a shattered dream. Cecilia stood alone, breathless and broken, the cruel emptiness of loss pressing down like a weight she could not bear. Around her, the Twilight groaned softly—a fading echo of glory, slipping away into memory.
Her scream tore through the silence, a desperate plea to a merciless sky. "Chris… come back to me…"
From behind them, they heard the Twilight groan, its metal beams twisting; the once majestic liner began its slow and mournful transformation. Its towering decks and gleaming hull faded like a dying star. The grand cruise liner shrank, steam engines sputtering into silence as it regressed into a weathered steamship, its once-proud chimneys crumbling into rusted relics.
Time wore on, and the steamship gave way to a weathered galleon, sails tattered and billowing weakly in a ghostly breeze. The clipper came next—old and fragile, its polished wood dulled and scarred by endless years of sorrow. The clipper shrank further, becoming a humble rowboat, its oars dipping silently into stagnant waters.
Finally, the rowboat settled back into its original form: a simple wooden barge, bare and battered, its planks swollen and cracked. The relentless passage of time and neglect gnawed at the wood, softening it with moss and rot. The barge drifted slowly toward the dark embrace of the Kasanaan River, its surface still and foreboding.
With a final, silent sigh, the wooden frame was swallowed by the river's depths, disappearing beneath the waters as if it had never been.
"Miss Bermudez?" Chief Bustamante's voice trembled as he called to Cecilia. She turned, only to see her friends dissolving before her, their forms fading like whispers on the wind.
"No… no, not you too!" she cried, reaching out to embrace Bustamante and Murillo, but her arms passed through them as if they were made of smoke. The cold emptiness swallowed her grasp.
Cecilia stumbled to a halt, her gaze fixed away from the vanishing figures, unwilling to witness the slow erasure of those she called her friends—just as she had lost Chris, the man who was her world. Murillo's voice broke through the silence, heavy with sorrow. "Take care of yourself, child," she sobbed. "The captain and all of us will always watch over you."
Bustamante's words, though gentle, carried the weight of iron. "Cry, mourn, but do not let grief chain you. Remember why the captain sacrificed himself… so you could have the world you deserve."
Cecilia's fists clenched, her lips trembling as she forced herself to turn back toward the Twilight's fading crew—the ghosts and souls she had come to call family. Bustamante, Murillo, and the others vanished, swallowed by the veil that separated life from death.
When the last of the crew was gone, a new gathering of souls emerged—strangers to her eyes. One stepped forward, barefoot and clad in tattered robes. "I am Pelagius," he said, voice echoing with ancient sorrow and gratitude. "Like me, these souls were once ferrymen and captains of the barge of the dead. We are all ancestors of Chris." He turned to the crowd behind him. "Thanks to your aid in breaking the curse, we are finally free." Gratitude shone in their eyes, but beneath it lay a solemn weight.
Cecilia, tears streaming, her voice barely a whisper, asked, "What will become of him now?" Her fists shook, demanding truth from those who had known the burden.
Pelagius's gaze softened but held no answers. "His deed was noble, worthy of heaven. Yet even we cannot say what fate awaits him."
Closing her eyes, Cecilia felt the cruel sting of loss deepen. Even Chris's destiny was beyond her reach.
The captains spoke as one, their voices a haunting chorus: "Have faith, child. The heavens do not ignore such selfless sacrifice."
Then, like the Twilight's crew, like Chris himself, they faded, leaving Cecilia alone on the desolate, silent pier.
She turned desperately, searching for any familiar face, any lingering soul to offer comfort or answers. But the supernatural world had vanished; the veil was closed.
All that remained was the cold echo of loneliness, pressing down on her like a shroud, as tears carved silent rivers down her cheeks.
Days passed by, Cecilia was back in her late grandfather's house, and she had lain quietly in her bed for the past few days. Then she was disturbed and roused by a knock on her door. She paid no attention to the knock, but the person outside was relentless. "GO AWAY!" she shouted, but this did not deter the person outside.
Fed up, Cecilia got up from bed and stormed the front door. She flung the wooden door open. "I SAID Go…away?" She was surprised to see who was on the other side. "Triple-A?" The archangel smiled at Cecilia and bowed courteously to her.
Moments later, Cecilia and Triple-A strolled the empty port that once served as the Twilight's docking port. "How are you holding up, child? I believe you can no longer see the other world?" The archangel asked delicately, knowing how raw the wounds in her heart still were.
Cecilia picked up a flat stone and threw it onto the sea waters, making it skip four times before sinking. "I can't say that I miss it," She started to express what she felt at that moment. "But it was part of me since I was a child, I feel like there is a gaping hole where my heart used to be." She picked up another stone and threw it again into the sea; this time it skipped five times before getting swallowed by the sea.
"Do you understand why you could no longer see ghosts?" Triple-A inquired, Cecilia glanced at the angel, wondering why he was asking something that he already knew.
Cecilia humored the archangel and gave her answer. "It's because he's gone now," she said casually.
"When you were a child, you were in a coma because of an accident. Your soul wandered into the Twilight," Triple-A said. "You were neither dead nor alive. When you fell into the Kasanaan, fate did not know what to do with you, so the logical course was to reset your life. You were meant to die when you fell from that tree."
"Then why didn't I die?" Cecilia's eyes were full of wonder and questions
"Because, when Chris gave you a portion of his abilities, it tethered you to the mortal world." Triple-A picked up a stone and skipped it along the water. "Chris didn't know it, but part of his life force was transferred to you; it was enough to give you a second chance at life."
Cecilia clutched her chest, and a tear fell from her eye. "He was saving my life, even before I could remember him."
"What has become of him? What will happen to me now?" Her pleas tugged at the archangel's core, but his hands were tied.
"I am not allowed to tell a mortal what happens beyond the veil." Cecilia hung her head; the last chance of knowing his fate proved to be futile. "But I can tell you this," Cecilia's head shot up, her eyes eagerly awaiting his words. "He is no longer in pain or suffering; he is no longer burdened by the duty of the ferryman and... he is free."
Cecilia's hands flew to her lips, her tears started to flow again, not from sadness, despair, or grief, but from relief and gratitude. "He's free, he's finally free." She said, despite her tears.
Triple-A gently placed a hand on Cecilia's shoulder, "It is time for you to be free of your burdens as well and take care of his final gift for you." Before Cecilia could ask what Chris's final gift was, Triple-A shot back up to heaven.
A month later, Cecilia paced back and forth near the coffee table, her eyes sneaking a peek towards something atop it. Finally, she picked up the long, slender plastic, and after reading what was indicated, her hands fell weakly to her sides. "I'm pregnant?!"