“Come, sit with me by the fire.” He waved to the fireplace that had only just appeared.

She relented because she knew she would eventually. She always ended up by the fire when the rest of the room grew chill. She studied her arthritic hands, wondering when she had grown so old. The knuckles were permanently crooked and swollen, she could hardly hold her brandy snifter anymore.

“It’s time to go.” His voice a soft echo of friends half-remembered. “You feel it, don’t you?”

“No.” She replied. “I feel nothing of the kind.”

“Surely you don’t think you can keep on like this?” He sounded concerned, how sweet.

“I can, and I will. My daughter needs me. I shall not abandon her.”

“You’re holding her back. Her loyalty to you is keeping her from happiness.” His tone grew cold. “She wants you to go.”

“She loves me. I only want what’s best for her.”

“What’s best for her is for you to let go. You should come with me and let her do as she pleases.” The window was now covered in frost.

“You will not win this. Why must you haunt my dreams and scold me about my daughter? What do you want from me, really?”

“I want you to come home with me.” The echos solidified into the voice of her late husband.

“It’s not time, yet. You are not my husband, he would never ask that of me.” She stood up and moved closer to the fireplace.

“He misses you. He watches and waits. He wants you to be with him again. It is your time, you need to let go.” His voice softened back to the multitude of echos.

“You don’t need my permission, not if it really is my time, you could just take me.” She stared into the dying fire, the walls were gathering frost now, too.

“It would be easier on you if you agreed to come with me. I don’t want to force you.” He was walking to the door, the dream was almost over.

“Just let me tell my daughter goodbye.” She cried at his retreating form. “Let me tell her I love her. Then I’ll go with you.”

He nodded and opened the door. “Until tomorrow night, then.” And he was gone.

She was the only one he wanted to be seen by tonight. When she was done dancing and feasting, he would let her see. She was the chosen one, as her mother had been years before. But neither of them knew that, he would just be a dream, haunting, but gone in the morning. The way it always was, and ever must be.

The music built to a frenzy, they were almost done. The men jumped through the fire and the women spun in dizzying circles. Catching hands, they all made one last circle and then ran to the village., breaking off to enter their homes. The elders stayed and the fire and tended all night until it was gone. He followed the chain, followed her, watched her enter her home alone. He waited until the street was quiet and went in.

She was standing at the fireplace, it was cold and empty. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She sank back against him, trembling.

“I saw you watching me.”

“Don’t be afraid, I will be gone soon.”

“I’m not, but please, don’t go. Mother spoke of you often. Don’t leave me like you left her.”

“How…” he stiffened, that was not possible.

“You came to her, like this, before I was born. She never forgot. Told me you might come again. She said she saw glimpses of you, year after year, but no one else remembered.”

“You won’t remember either.” But he was not as sure, now.

“I’ve seen you before, I won’t forget.”

“No, Impossible…”

“Please, don’t…” But he was gone.