Heka shrugged lightly, attempting a weak smile. "I'm fine. It is just today I feel so cold." His voice was soft, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters, searching for a reason to stay despite the chill that seemed to seep into his bones.
Ansel shook his head, a hint of concern threading through his words. His eyes met Heka's, steady and searching. "It's not winter. Not yet."
For a moment, Heka said nothing. The chill around them felt distant, the murmurs of other attendees fading into a dull background hum.
The weight of the moment hung between them, heavy and unspoken. Outside, the sky was a dull gray, the kind of day that pressed down on the soul. Inside, amidst the ritual and the sorrow, two friends found a fragile moment of truth.
Then, Heka's smile deepened with a touch of irony. His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. "Somehow, my body is frozen."
Ansel sensed that something was wrong, something deeper than mere physical discomfort. Whatever it was, Heka hadn't shared it yet. It was beyond Ansel's sight, hidden in shadows he couldn't reach.
But one thing was clear: the weight on Heka's shoulders was heavier than anyone could imagine.
"It is better to go home. After all, you must take care of your health." Ansel urged gently.
Heka nodded slowly, the exhaustion evident in his movements. "Okay, I'll go home. How about you? Do you not leave?"
"No, I'm waiting for someone. You just leave first." Ansel's eyes darkened with quiet resolve.
Heka hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Well, I'm going to leave." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Ansel alone amid the gravestones and the whispering wind.
The cemetery grew still, the silence punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant call of a lone bird. The wind seemed to carry a chill that seeped into Ansel's bones, making the quiet even more profound.
He listened intently as Heka's footsteps echoed on the stone path, each step growing fainter. Then, suddenly, the footsteps stopped.
Ansel's head snapped around, eyes searching the dimming horizon. "Heka, what's wrong?"
"It's okay. My legs feel so heavy. My bones seem frozen." Heka murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ansel stepped closer, considering tightening his chest. Heka stood rigid, rooted to the spot as if the earth itself had claimed him. Ansel reached out and touched Heka's hand. The chill that radiated from his skin was unnatural, like ice encasing his flesh.
He wondered. "Why does his body become like ice?"
Heka shook Ansel's hand which was touching him. He said, his voice hollow. "My body is completely frozen."
Ansel's mind raced. "Okay, I'll take you home."
The mysterious woman he had been waiting for the one who seemed to bend reality would have to wait. Heka's well-being was more important.
As they began to walk away, Ansel's senses sharpened. The trees around them stood unnervingly still, their leaves motionless despite the loud howling of the wind. The gusts brushed against his skin, cold and real, yet the branches and leaves betrayed no sign of movement.
"What happened? Does the time stop?" Ansel whispered, eyes darting around. He blinked, trying to convince himself that what he saw was real.
Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw her. She was walking toward them with a slow, deliberate grace.
The woman he had been waiting for. As she passed by, the world seemed to freeze. Ansel's body locked in place, unable to move a muscle. Time itself felt suspended.
He glanced at Heka. The man was equally frozen, his eyes wide open but utterly still, not blinking once.
"My body can't move at all. At least I can move my eyes. What exactly does she do?" Ansel thought desperately.
Moments later, the woman passed by again, retracing her steps. Ansel wanted to call out, to stop her, but his mouth refused to open. He was trapped in silence, a prisoner of this strange, suspended moment.
She carried something in her hands, a lantern, its faint glow flickering like a heartbeat in the stillness.
When she finally disappeared from view, Ansel's body snapped back to life. Movement flooded his limbs again. Without hesitation, he broke into a run, determined not to lose her this time.
"Heka, wait in here for a while." Ansel called over his shoulder.
Ansel sprinted through the cemetery, heart pounding, eyes scanning every shadow and corner. He wondered. "Where was she going?"
But no matter how fast he ran or how far he searched, she was gone, vanished like a ghost.
Breathless, he returned to Heka, who stood where he had left him, concern etched across his face.
"Ansel, what's wrong? Why do you suddenly run?" Heka asked, his voice low but sharp, eyes narrowing as if trying to pierce through the fog of Ansel's sudden urgency.
Ansel's chest heaved as he struggled to steady his breath, the pounding rhythm of his heart still echoing in his ears.
"I'm just chasing the person who just walked past us." Ansel replied, still catching his breath. His voice strained but resolute, eyes darting toward the dim hallway behind them.
Heka looked around, puzzled. "Who is he? There is no one here, except us. I didn't see anyone or anything walking either." His tone was a mixture of confusion and disbelief, the silence of the place pressing in on them both.
Ansel missed something. His heart sank. "The time suddenly stopped just now. How can Heka see it? I'm the only one who saw it. And I'm the only one who realizes the time stops for a while."
"Forget it. Nothing happened." Ansel said, forcing a smile he didn't feel.
How could he explain what he had just experienced? How could he make Heka understand that time itself had bent and paused, that a mysterious woman had crossed their path like a living shadow?
Though he had missed his chance to confront her face-to-face, Ansel's resolve hardened. It was difficult, terrifying even to stare into her eyes, to face whatever power she wielded. But he was certain of one thing: one day, they would meet again. And when that day came, he would be ready.