The Tragedy of Those Who Remains

I stepped forward, my heart pounding as I approached her. "Vera?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. The figure flinched, her sobs halting for a moment before she slowly lifted her head, her hood falling back to reveal her face.

It was her—Vera, my childhood friend, the mage who had always been by my side. Her eyes were red from crying, her expression a mixture of shock, relief, and something else—something that looked like hope. She let out a shaky breath, her voice breaking as she spoke.

"Darius... it's been so long."

A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed hard, taking another tentative step toward her. "Yeah, it has," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the weight of all those years between us, all the things left unsaid, pressing down on my chest. "Vera, I... I'm so sorry. I should've—"