“They have come so far, have they not?”

Elka turned, startled, “Yes. They have grown to twice their size since I last saw them.”

The Tamer smirked, “Thrice, in fact. Almost full grown.” Elka smiled and looked back at the creatures swirling around each other in the distance. Stepping back from the cliff edge, she fiddled with the ring on her finger.

“It has been some time,” She looked down, unsure how to continue, “I thought you would return,” she spoke in an accusatory tone, masking the hurt beneath, “you never did.”

The Tamer held out the bouquet of wildflowers in a jokingly courteous manner, “I’m here now, am I not?”

Elka was unimpressed but smiled nevertheless. She turned back to the cliff edge, watching the creatures circling in the afternoon sun. The largest, Embros, flew a little further from the others, his large neck craning to scan the ground below. His dark scales shone golden in the sunlight, highlighting his muscled body, tense, ready for attack.

There were three in total, though there had been four once. The youngest had died shortly before they left the kingdom. Dragons were notably sickly creatures, once the strongest and most powerful animals, their magic had begun to fade over time, and they had become increasingly harder to feed. And so they had left.

It was a cold, midwinter morning the last time she had seen them. Elka was told at dawn that they were leaving, having little time to say goodbye. She had waited as two more winters past, but she began to give up hope of their return.

“I couldn’t wait for you.” Elka stated bluntly.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“I tried,” they shared a stubborn yet kind look, “Seasons passed, I heard nothing.” The Tamer said nothing but looked away. Elka was unable to read their face. She sighed, annoyed.

“What would I have said-“

“I thought you had died!” Elka caught herself, swallowing her anger, “I thought you- all of you- were dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

They were silent for a moment, tension hung in the air as they both struggled for words.

“I heard you married” Elka snorted at the blunt remark, “are you happy?”

“It was arranged, if that is your question. I wished to marry for love, but my love left me alone. The kingdom could not wait forever for your return.” In a rare show of shame, the Tamer bowed their head, unable to meet her gaze. “I would have though.”

Their eyes met once again. Elka stared vulnerably into the eyes she once loved, still loved. The eyes of the person she had spent her life with, the person she had longed for with all her heart, the person that left her alone.

She knew they had to leave. The dragons could not have survived here, the frosts had limited their food supplies to barely sustain the townsfolk, let alone three growing dragons. But that bitterness was still there. It would always be there. And now it didn’t matter. She had married another, her Fathers wish of course, but an eligible suitor nonetheless.

She broke the gaze, composing herself. “Stay as long as you like. We can offer you sustenance through the summer but we will not have enough once winter comes. You must move on by then.”

The Tamer was clearly taken aback but bowed politely and nodded, “Thank you, My Lady.” And with that, she returned to her duties, not unaware of the longing eyes burning into her as she walked away.

How do you begin to explain to a child, your child, that you will be leaving them? A goodbye, to them, is only ever temporary. They have not experienced life yet. The loss, the grief, the ends of relationships, moving away.

Will she think I will return? Like a Monday morning, she will say goodbye only to return six hours later and have me hug her tightly as I tell her how much I have missed her. She never misses me, or never says so anyway. She will tell me stories of her day, friends she has made, games she has played. And I will listen. Always, happy to hear her talk and see her face light up at each new experience. Who will listen to her if I am not there? Will they show her the same attentiveness I have? I hope so.

I could decide to not tell her at all. I could simply tuck her into bed later tonight, read her to sleep, kiss her one last time, and leave without another word. Perhaps she would understand. Perhaps not.

I make the decision later that night. She cannot know. It would be too painful for us both.

I have arranged for my mother to be there in the morning. I have everything I need. My daughter has everything she will ever need. She will not need me.

At bedtime, I tell her how much I love her as I tuck her into bed. I sit with her and read until she falls asleep, and for sometime after, willing the time to drag on, to have one last moment and then another. But now she is asleep, breathing softly as she holds onto me. Maybe she knows, deep down, she will never see me again.

I put the book to one side, tucking into it a letter I have written for her to read when she is old enough, though I doubt she will wait that long, the stubborn child she is. The thought makes me smile; she is mine, through and through. I lean over to stroke her cheek, her beautiful face. I kiss her forehead and walk silently to the door. Turning to take one last look at the person I love the most in this world, I wish for her to have everything she could ever want in life. I wish for her to have so much more that I ever did.

Then I leave her, forever.

“I think I just met the happiest person in the world.” Clara closed the break room door stiffly as she entered, an entertained look spread across her face.

“Oh?” I took a sip of coffee as I sat up in my chair, intrigued.

“Yeah,” she started, “the man we found yesterday? That was his wife.” I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I knew the man, I had been working the case, I had gone to the scene. He had been found dead in his hotel room with two shots in his chest, but we had been unable to find any evidence of his identity.

“She identified him?” Clara nodded. “And she was... happy?” A smile spread across her face and she shrugged theatrically.

“It seems so,” She tossed the file on the table in front of me, “I know why you’re thinking, she has an alibi. I think you need to speak to her.”

...

“Sofia... Roberts?” I held out my hand as I approached the desk. A young woman, late twenties perhaps with softly curled auburn hair, turned in her chair to face me.

“Yes, it is, hello.” She beamed, taking my hand in hers and shaking delicately.

I sat down across the desk from her, “So, I understand you have identified this man,” I slid a photograph of the victim towards her, “as your husband?”

Her smile never faltered as she glanced flippantly down at the man and back at me, “That’s right.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” She scoffed lightly before composing herself, nodding in thanks. “I’m sure this must be hard for you, Mrs. Roberts, but I’m afraid it seems your husband was murdered.”

“Clearly.” Her smile wavered and she appeared disinterested for the first time.

“Forgive me,” I started, unsure how to approach this delicately, “but you don’t seem entirely...”

“Sad?” She interrupted, laughing quietly to herself, “You wouldn’t be either if you knew him, you say he was murdered?” I nodded, “so he clearly wasn’t a well loved person then, was he?”

“Miss, we see incidents like this every week, it’s not uncommon for it to be a random act, a robbery-“

“No,” she waved her hand dismissively, “not this one, did you see a woman? Or any trace there had been one?”

“No, it appears he had been there alone.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” she beamed, pointing at me jokingly, “that was not my husband. New girl every time and he never once cared to hide it. Someone cleared their tracks.”

I sat there silently for a second, unsure what to say. “I’m... sorry, miss, but we didn’t find any evidence anyone else had been in that room.”

“Well,” she shrugged, gathering her bags, “if that’s everything?”

“If you know anything that may be of use to us-“

“Thank you, Detective, but I have no interest in solving this case, I’ll leave that to you. I’ve given my details and passport to your colleague if you need me to prove my whereabouts.”

“Of course, thank you for your help, Mrs. Roberts. I will do my best to find out what happened to your husband.” I reached out to shake her hand but she laughed it off.

“Oh, don’t be silly, I couldn’t care less what happened to that idiot. Whether or not you want to solve it is up to you.” She turned and strutted out of the room confidently.

Clara leaned over to me, “she’s certainly interesting, isn’t she?” She laughed lightly.

“I don’t understand,” I started, a feeling of bewilderment flooding over me, “why is she so happy? I mean, her husband doesn’t sound like the nicest man but still?” I looked at Clara and she raised her eyebrow at me.

“Did she show you the will?”

I had never given too much thought to my death.

In my 23 years of life I had only ever considered that I would die of old age. Maybe in my home, surrounded by loved ones. Maybe in a hospital, surrounded by nurses. I hadn’t thought about it much because it didn’t matter to me. It would be an inevitable end to a long and fulfilling life. One I had barely even started. It wasn’t my time yet, and it certainly wouldn’t be for many, many years.

Until today.

The moment I stepped my foot off the pavement and into the road, I could feel that something was different. The air became still. My movements slowed. Even before I saw the car I knew; I was going to die.

My body was on autopilot, planting one foot in front of the other, nearing the centre of the road. I felt my feet moving slowly, too slowly, as my mind raced. This was it. This was the end. All my life has been leading up to this moment. I was never meant to be a lawyer like I had planned. I was foolish to think I would even graduate. I would never get my dream job, get married, travel the world, have children, celebrate anniversaries, birthdays, weddings, promotions, christmases. I would never get to be old. Never see my children grow up, my parents grow old. Never again would I mourn for friends or family, comfort a friend after a heartbreak, make a partner smile in a way only someone you love can.

I was only ever going to arrive here, on this street, on this day. I thought I would be graduating tomorrow. But that was never going to happen. In this moment, I realised that every decision I had ever made would lead me here.

And so I stepped forward.

The car came into my view, screeching carelessly around the corner, heading towards me. I was a ticking time bomb, waiting to go off. There was no-one around to see me, to warn me of the danger, to call out in horror. The few times I had considered my death, I had never thought that I could be alone. Tick, tock, tick, tock. The car was close now, I could hear it swerving, perhaps the driver was drunk. Maybe too young to drive. Either way, they would not see me in my dark clothes, alone on a dimly lit street, not until it was too late. Tick, tock, tick, tock.

No. I wouldn’t have this. I had worked far too hard to have it all lead to nothing. I had a life planned out, people I loved, people who loved me. Fuck destiny.

My feet felt stuck to the road. I knew I was meant to keep walking, this had been decided for me, I keep walking, the car hits me, I die, that’s the plan. Tick, tock. I focused all of my energy on my feet. If I could just pull myself back... turn around.. run... fall to the ground... anything....... I was fighting against my own body now, dragging myself backwards. Tick, tock. Tears were streaming down my face as I felt the car approach me. One foot faltered. Tick. Every ounce of my being was fighting for my life. Tock. I pulled and pulled for what felt like an eternity, even as I felt the cold metal of the car against my leg. Tick-. Then, I was on the floor.

My leg throbbed and a sharp pain shot through my shoulder where I had landed. My head was ringing, my fingers were numb, adrenaline coursed through my body.

But the ticking had stopped.

I was alive.

My mind filled with thoughts I was never meant to think, emotions I was never meant to feel. I saw things I was never meant to see; the back of the car, a bird flying above me, a man running towards me, holding me, the flashing blue and red lights of the ambulance. I was never meant to hear those sirens, or the comforting voice of the paramedic, the beeping of the machines. Everything was suddenly more real, more beautiful. Everything around me was so alive.

And so was I.

In the last few moments of her life, Alice realised three things.

One, this man was familiar. Not familiar in the way of an old friend or acquaintance, or even a brief encounter at a party. No, this man was familiar like a shadow. Was he the man who stood a little too close behind her at the coffee shop? Perhaps he was the man whose gaze lingered a little too long at the park? It was hard to say. The only thing she knew for sure was that she had passed him on the path not too long ago.

Two, the stranger was confident. His stance alone indicated this, his feet set wide in the gravel track, his arms set firmly at his side, the smirk laying faintly in his lips, not entirely reaching his dark eyes.

Perhaps he knew this path led to a dead end. Had he taken a chance that no-one else would walk this way or did he know how quiet this part of the woods was? Alice certainly didn’t. She had simply taken a wrong turning, though she didn’t know when. She had only walked home this way a handful of times, and the unfamiliar tracks felt like a maze to her, especially alone.

Finally, Alice realised this would not be a funny story to recount to her mum later tonight. She would not call her this evening, just as she has done every night since she moved here. She would not tell her about the guy who flirted with her at work, the boss who laughed when she tripped and grazed her knee, the older woman who helped her to her feet and cheered her up with a cup of tea. She wondered if any of them would be concerned tomorrow, if they would call the police or roll their eyes and tut at the irresponsible, lazy new coworker. Would her mum wait up for her tonight?

Suddenly her naive optimism for this new life was gone. It didn’t matter that she had left her old home, her old job, her old life. She had run from the arms of one dangerous man into the path of another. The circle of life, she supposed.

Aware of the inevitable end of this interaction, Alice adjusted the bag on her shoulder and walked briskly forwards, her head lowered to avoid his gaze. He called out to her as she approached but she couldn’t make out what he said, her heartbeat deafening in her ears. She guessed it was not something she wanted to hear anyway.

She could see the man moving in the corner of her eye as she kept her eyes fixed on her only exit behind him.

As she neared the figure she could see the track stretched out behind the stranger, and she almost believed that he would let her pass.

Then, the man grasped her arm tightly and pulled her back, holding her body against his. He was not much taller than her, but he was stronger, and had no trouble holding her in place. She closed her eyes tightly and held back a scream.

The last thing she felt was his breath on her neck and a cold, sharp pain on her throat.