Markus

A cool wind ruffled your hair as you gazed out into the darkening sea. The crimson sun had almost disappeared behind the jagged horizon, and you clutched the cold vase of ashes to your chest with the last of your strength.

Mark was ill, and you both knew it. Knowing is not accepting. You had prepared for farewell, but not for this sudden devastation that had come so soon. His last wish was to dissolve here, in this place you both loved so much. And so you stood on the shore, watching the waves roll in, memories of the past flooding your mind. Here you met, here you shared your innermost thoughts, here your souls found each other. And here you would let him go forever. You only pressed your fingers weakly into the smooth porcelain, trying one last time, somehow, to embrace the one who was no longer there.

The dull roar of the surf muffled your footsteps on the wet sand, but you sensed someone approaching on your skin. Turning around, you almost dropped the precious burden. Either grief had completely clouded your mind, or he was standing before you. The same eyes, the same oval face, the familiar tilt of his head… Every feature screamed resemblance, but your heart knew it wasn't him. The stranger looked at you with an attentive, slightly sad gaze, occasionally shifting it to the vessel in your hands.

"Saying goodbye?" his voice rang out.

Even the timbre had a familiar, familiar note, but it remained alien. You, unable to utter a word, merely nodded. A flicker of deep understanding and sympathy flashed in his gaze, and he chuckled quietly, almost to himself.

"I understand. It's... incredibly hard. I had to let go once, too."

While you were trying to cope with the chaos in your soul, writing it all off as a coincidence, his words broke through the noise of the waves:

— May I stand next to you? I won't disturb you. Just… to honor your farewell.