Cursed with blindness

"Charlie!" Isabella called out as she entered her house, there was no response. "Charlie?" She put her bag and coat on the kitchen table and moved upstairs, from room to room calling his name. There was no response. She grew more and more frantic. The realisation of her abandonment crept up quickly on Isabella, when she had needed him most he had forsaken her. The only sound in her small one bed house was the icy wind whistling down the upstairs corridor, the soul of her home was deflated and grey. "Charlie!" She cried and still no response. She had lost everything in a matter of hours, her closest companion, her passion and curiosity for enchantment. If there had been anything left in her then her wails could have blown out the windows. She felt deflated, she felt the weight of her own mortality. "How could you leave me?" She puled incase by some stroke of fortune he was listening, and of course he was. Tears of devotion and heartbreak streamed down her cheeks and dripped into the lifeless palms of her hands. "Is this my punishment?" The torture of having her closest companion through the cumber of death wracked her. So she sat in the windowsill and felt the weight of her loneliness, staring out across the sleeping giant hills, unsure of what to do with herself now. For the first time in her life the escapism and fantasy of the occult was not there to make her more than herself, now she was just like everybody else.

On the other side of the curtain Charlie watched with his candid antipathy and his quiet despair, he had been there at the meeting, and he had heard every word. The Morrigan frightened him, as she did every spirit, he swam in the seas of her creation and thus was a slave to her whims. The phantom Queen had seen him there at the lake, she had looked him in the eye and caused his whole being to shudder with ice and electricity. And now Charlie could not reach Isabella but was still forced to watch her torture herself and learn how to hate him. Even worse was the way she would learn to live without him. Charlie moved to sit beside her on the window ledge, he placed his hands atop hers as best he could. Isabella startled as she felt the familiar shudder of a phantom touch.  

"Charlie?" She turned to see nobody there. It was maddening. She could not know what was real and what was just her grief stricken mind tormenting her. She looked at her hands, turning them over and analysing the lines and shining spots where her skin was still wet from tears. Isabella reached around her, trying to find any ghostly tremble in the air. Charlie moved to her, he placed his chest against her outstretched palms and she gasped when she felt the coolness of his dead heart. She knew it was him. Isabella followed the vibrations of his body until she was blindly cupping his face, then she found his hands. The sun setting across the valley caused a sudden gush of golden light to flood the stairway, then the light was gone.