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The eternal pulling and pushing of the encroaching tides resonate in a strange union, one of an unending chant of lost souls.
At times like these, though still elusive, her faint memories become ever so slightly more tangible.
Though those she finds on the far shore vary in their reasons and lives, they often share one key characteristic. With half-lidded eyes, they stare out at oblivion, describing the finality of the end they approach. Some with fear and others with joy, muted though their emotions are.
A few of the more talkative souls that find themselves lost here recount how dreamlike of a trance it is, how the unending tiredness they have faced all their lives has finally come for them in a gentle, nonjudgemental embrace. They reminisce upon ephemeral memories that shall soon leave them as the fading kiss of sunlight leaves a world devoid of existence.
Though she has long since lost her ability to sleep, much less dream, these experiences resonate with her. Only here, staring out at the sinking dark sun that will one day engulf all of life, do faint memories of her become apparent.
They say that dreams are a strange amalgamation of memories and nonsense, truth and lies swirling ever into each other until one is indistinguishable from the other.
Once, there was a girl with hair the colour of gentle moonlight and a smile brighter than the sun. Once, there was a girl who had lost everything to her own existence. These memories remain devoid of so much in what remains of her face, voice, even her name: all but the faintest impression of a past relationship.
How did they meet? Know each other? Were they enemies, classmates, friends, subordinates?
Each time she waits upon this shore another visage of her comes to her mind. Another life lived with her.
Which are true and which are nothing but hallucinations of halcyon days eludes her.
And yet.
Acheron sees her, in every flower blossoming, in every puddle of rain, in the gently blowing of the breeze upon a cool summers night, sees her in the laughter of couples up far past midnight, the joy of children playing together in mornings embrace, in the quiet solitude upon the horizon of a new day.
They say that one only truly dies when all others have forgotten them, once they have sunk far into the depths of an unfathomably deep ocean, when their existence has fallen into the endless void of all else that has been lost. If that were true then only she who is known as Acheron, holds the secret to this girl's life. But how could this be? When she still lives in all that remains in this fleeting world, all that is and has been will always have her presence ingrained into it. She lives in the depths of every being's soul, carefully holding this world together.
How, then, could she ever choose to submerge herself in Nihility's uncaring embrace when what remains of her slumbers so peacefully in this world? She is every flower wilting; she is the quiet after all has come and gone and the birth of all that has and will be. To give up on this world is to give up on the one thing she had truly loved the most.
That is why she stands here, alone against eternal oblivion. She guides the lost souls back to the waking world. To savour every fragment of her that remains in this momentary existence.
All will eventually succumb to Nihility’s end.
That is why, for her, she will wield her blade against this End. Lest this world all be for Naught.
The endless rain of the world continues to fall upon dark torrents of water, and the quiet pitter-patter of tears joins them. The heavens will weep for eternity upon this lonely river, indistinguishable from the tears of all those who have drowned in it.
Once, there was a girl with enough love in her heart to encompass all of creation; once, there was a demon that was once beloved with a hole in its heart carved open by her blade. Inhuman gurgles and moans, claws reaching desperately towards her.
This world is fleeting; this, she has always known.
And yet.