4

After the welcome change of the pine forest, the landscape turned into a disappointing image of a dune. The few shadows that remained danced in the corners of the wanderer's eyes. Nevertheless, Avemortis accompanied him every step of the way. So did the screeching that waited for him barely perceptible in the distance.

Some days the wanderer began to see strange things, things he couldn't explain. Strange little blue lights flying through the air around him, strange red orbs with wings. It was on one of those days that he encountered her.

From a distance, the wanderer still thought she was human. She had long, dark hair and wore a strange robe. When the wanderer found her, she was lying unconscious on the side of the path.

The sun was long gone when she woke up. In the glow of the campfire, she looked almost ghostly. Her skin was pale, too pale. Her narrow eyes squinted and looked around. When she caught sight of the wanderer, a shiver ran down his spine. Her eyes were almost completely black. Except for a small white half-moon in her right eye. After a few awkward moments of silence, the wanderer cleared his throat and pointed to some fruit.

"If you're hungry, help yourself."

The woman just continued to look at him silently. Then she smiled. It was a creepy smile. Creepy and pretty.

"Do you believe in God?"

Her voice was hard to describe, soft and rough at the same time. Young, but marked by experience that far surpassed his.

The wanderer pondered for a moment, then shook his head decisively. The woman looked at him in obvious surprise.

"So you don't think your life has any higher meaning?"

This time the wanderer didn't need to ponder.

"The only meaning my life has is the meaning I give it."

"And what meaning is that?"

To this the wanderer knew no answer.

"Do you believe in a god?"

The woman laughed. It was a full and strong laugh

"Not anymore."

"May I ask why?"

"Because I watched him die."

When the wanderer woke up in the morning the woman was long gone. His head throbbed, he could only vaguely remember the previous night. The smell of lavender, her soft skin, the first kiss.

Fragments of a memory he would have liked to keep.

Seems like it's true that loneliness can be shared.