Epilogue

I sit barefoot at the edge of the lake behind Yukiko’s home, my back against a tree, a paperback in hand. I close the book after finishing the last page and admire the cover for a moment. 

‘The Witch and the Ghost’ by Lorelei Morgana. The cover depicts a haunted house that bears a striking resemblance to Stormcrest Manor. I can’t help but smile to myself looking at it. How long has it been since I first met her? Around 25 years, I think. I’ve gotten old in the meantime. 

A cool September wind blows across the lake. It’s nice and comfortable out today. There is a cairn at the edge of the lake where Yukiko used to stand and gaze at the moon. I can sense some latent magic coming from the thralls sealed within. They, too, must miss her terribly. 

I pull myself up, my knees cracking like old dry branches as I do, and I walk back toward the house. I walk around the side of the house, toward the front – toward Yukiko’s grave, and set the book down on the front steps. 

The willow tree that has grown over the grave is quite large now, its branches dangling lazily over the small pond near its trunk. 

There is something in the air today, I can feel it. There is something like anticipation in my chest, though I can’t tell what for. When I place my palm against the trunk of the tree, I can feel the faint power of the Full Moon. 

“I can’t begin to tell you just how much I miss you, my love.” I close my eyes as I speak to her grave. “Even after all these years, your loss still feels like an open wound that just won’t close. I think about you every day, and my yearning never stops. Sometimes it feels unfair, how short the time we had together was. It was my only dream in the world to grow old with you, to wake up beside you every day until my last day. But even though our time was cut short, I cherish every second we had together. I will always love you.” 

Footsteps are coming from down the path toward town, and for the first time in a long time, I feel my heart racing. I turn as the steps stop, and see two girls standing there. The pair of them look around 14, and they both carry schoolbags. The girl on the right has big glasses and ginger hair, and standing at her side is a black-haired girl in purple, staring at me with sparkly blue eyes. 

I sense something in her – something odd, yet familiar. I feel a kinship with her, as if she were some long-lost relative showing up at my home. 

In the sky above her is the full moon, looming overhead in the light of day, and I can feel its power strongly now. It is like Yukiko is looking down on us, watching this moment closely. 

The girl with the black hair parts her lips to speak, but she hesitates for just a moment. She takes one step closer and inhales deeply. 

“Who are you?”