Time flowed differently in the Eternal Garden — not in hours or days, but in the faint rhythm of the silver rivers and the slow blossoming of the luminous flowers. For Aiden, it felt endless. He lingered at the edges of Lyra's life, a shadow of a heart, watching her move through the glowing fields as if he were a memory she could almost grasp, but never fully remember.
He had become invisible in more ways than one. His form was fading, nearly translucent, his voice a mere whisper carried by the wind. Yet he remained. Every instinct of his being — human and spirit — urged him to stay by her side, even if it meant he could never touch her, never speak her name aloud.
---
Lyra began to notice strange occurrences.
The flowers would bloom brighter where he had walked, petals shimmering faintly with a light she couldn't explain. The silver rivers seemed to ripple toward him, even when he tried to remain hidden. And sometimes — only sometimes — she would feel it: the faintest warmth at her shoulder, like a hand she had never seen, but one that gave her comfort beyond words.
"Why do I feel… watched?" she whispered one evening, her violet eyes scanning the glowing horizon. She reached for a flower, tracing the petals with a delicate finger, as if trying to find the invisible hand guiding the bloom.
Aiden hovered nearby, form almost gone. His heart ached at the sound of her voice — a voice he loved more than life itself, and yet, could never call his own.
"You're here," she murmured. "Someone… is here… but I can't remember who."
It was a fragment — a crack in her perfect amnesia, a whisper of memory he had prayed for. But it was so fragile that it broke if he moved too close.
---
That night, the silver rivers began to hum softly, carrying his fading essence toward her. The wind whispered his name, though she could not understand it. And yet, the garden responded. Petals lifted in slow spirals, forming a faint glow around her, as if the Eternal Garden itself recognized the bond between them.
Lyra shivered and looked around, startled. "What… is happening?"
Aiden wanted to step forward, to reach out, to speak — to tell her it's me, Aiden. I never left you. But to do so would risk unraveling the fragile harmony of this world and perhaps destroy the one chance he had to remain near her.
So instead, he stayed silent.
---
Days passed like this — flashes of presence, whispers on the wind, and the faint glow of the flowers marking where he had been. And then, one evening, the dream-like peace of the Eternal Garden faltered.
The sky, usually a shifting palette of violet and gold, darkened at the edges. The silver rivers rippled unnaturally, and the luminous flowers bent as though caught in an unseen storm. A shadow loomed — not the same as before, but something darker, more insidious.
Lyra froze, her body trembling. "Aiden…?" she whispered, almost instinctively.
He wanted to answer — I'm here! — but his voice could barely reach her. All he could do was manifest as a faint shimmer beside her, a ripple of light that danced in her peripheral vision.
The shadow surged closer, twisting and writhing across the glowing field. Its tendrils reached for Lyra, and her violet eyes widened in fear. She raised her hands, calling upon her magic, but even her power seemed diminished.
Aiden's fading essence surged, lending the tiniest fraction of his strength to the garden itself. Petals rose, rivers bent, and light flared around her, forming a barrier against the encroaching darkness.
"Stay… safe," he whispered, the words barely audible even to himself.
---
For a moment, Lyra looked directly at the shimmer — that faint pulse of light that had followed her for months. Something in her eyes flickered, a memory so faint it almost disappeared. She hesitated, reaching toward it.
And then the shadow lashed out, breaking the moment.
Aiden felt himself stretch thinner, his essence straining as he pushed against the darkness. His form wavered, almost completely translucent now. Every heartbeat, every pulse of his fading life-force was dedicated to keeping her safe.
He caught the shadow in a beam of light, holding it back with the last shred of his mortal and spirit energy. But the effort drained him further, and he felt the terrible pull of oblivion — the world that had once been his life was tugging him back, threatening to erase him completely.
---
Lyra, sensing the shimmer and the presence that had inexplicably stayed with her, whispered, "I… feel you… I don't know who you are, but I… I trust you."
Aiden's chest burned with longing. Those words — I trust you — were as close as he would ever get to her love. And yet, they tore him apart because she did not know him, did not remember the months, the laughter, the first night by the lake, or the quiet love he had carried for her.
He could not speak. He could only push the shadow back with the last remnants of his energy, letting the garden respond to the bond between them.
---
Hours passed. Or perhaps it was minutes. The shadow eventually recoiled, disappearing into the edges of the garden. Lyra collapsed to her knees, trembling and exhausted, her magic spent.
Aiden hovered nearby, almost invisible, every part of him fading further. He could no longer hold a full form, could no longer even stand in the light. He existed as a shimmer, a faint ripple of presence that she could sense but never see clearly.
Lyra looked around, sensing him again. "Thank you… whoever you are," she whispered, voice quivering. "I… don't understand, but… thank you for being here."
Aiden smiled — though it was invisible to her. His heart broke with both joy and sorrow.
Even unseen… even unremembered… I will always love you, he thought.
And in that fading shimmer, he realized something both terrifying and beautiful: he had become a part of the Eternal Garden itself. A ghost of his own love, tethered forever to the girl he could never claim, protecting her from a world she would never fully understand.
He would remain.
Quietly.
Endlessly.
Even if it broke his heart every single day.