Sometimes, animals would gather here in spring, looking for quick romantic flings. Every now and then, a lonely journalist would wander in, hoping to catch footage of the border near the Obscurity. Or a group of hyperactive ghost hunters would scamper through with their ridiculous gadgets, chasing another - exclusive.
They didn't have much in common—except one thing: all of them wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as possible.
And no one ever dared approach the Wall itself, where someone's thoughtful hands had set up a memorial arch made of black ribbons and a rotating collection of fresh flowers. Wilted ones were swapped out regularly. A gilded plaque stood at the center, engraved with a name. Just below, a patch of grey, bubbling mist hovered, never drifting from that single spot.
That fog had a shape. A very human one. And where a face might be, there were faint, charcoal-drawn features. Pleasant, some might say. Odd, others would claim.
Antwan, true to his unofficial duties, came by like he always did—to sit by the world's strangest grave. As he swept away the litter from the past couple of days, he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye.
At first, he didn't react. But then he turned—and recoiled in shock, stumbling backward until his back hit the Wall.
Didn't expect my return to cause that kind of dramatic reaction. – said…
that voice. The one no one had dared hope to hear again.
Ali? But… how?! How what? I hacked my way out of the strigoi's layer and came back. What's unclear? It all went smooth as silk. Got my blood back too. – Alenari pulled out the fang, crusted with dried stains, and quickly stuffed it back in her – Basically, everything's boom-boom, perfect. Except… why do you look so… um… grown-up? At first I didn't even recognize you if it weren't for those cute little curls of yours.
Ali! It's really you!- Me. What's the problem? – She eyed Antwan suspiciously. But as he explained—briefly, carefully—her expression twisted: first red, then white.
...Ten years. That's how long it had been.
She could've blamed it on Noah's realm—maybe its weird time rules had warped everything—but something told her the fault was hers alone.
Messing with space, time, and form had consequences. And apparently, she'd floored the gas pedal straight into a decade-long road trip.
Her very adult nephew stared at her with wide eyes and filled her in. The signal had vanished the moment she approached the Wall. She'd just stopped and stood there, unmoving. They'd tried to reach her—called out, begged, pleaded—but nothing worked. He and Mia came out in person and found her ghostly shape, face turned toward the wall, no sign of life left.
They did everything. Tried everything. No one could accuse them of giving up easy. But as the years passed and nothing changed… they'd built a memorial. Something to honor—
Seriously? Dead flowers and a nameplate? Is that all I get? Where are the honors befitting My Great and Glorious Self? Ali… – Antwan smiled—no, Antwan, now a man, smiling like the same dorky boy he used to be. – There she is. That's the Alenari I remember.