i. twilight keeper

there are places hidden from the mundane eye that only opens for the believers. many cliches have formed the idea that places like these are libraries or cemeteries where the undead have unfinished business. but the irony behind that isn’t so much as how simple of places these would be, but the fact that there’s only one. one as in, one place. when in reality, they’re everywhere. you just have to go through the gate to get to them.

her name is freya, and she’s the gatekeeper. but that’s what mortals would call her, all those who know of the unknown and speak the unspeakable call her for what she is, the twilight keeper.

for the few that have seen her, they claim she’s older than time but can appear to look younger than a child. and even after over centuries of her existence, only three facts about her are known to be true: her eyes are an ocean blue that holds more secrets than the water itself, only appears when the sun hides behind the horizon, but before the stars come out, and she’s bared only one child, with a heart of glass.

it’s been confirmed that the child's name is eve, but her whereabouts are unknown. it's been said that someone stole the baby from her crib, while freya was out working. others have whispered eve ran away when she was old enough to know about her mother’s work, and therefore vowed to never return. few dare to say that freya killed eve herself, so she wouldn’t have to suffer taking over the job one day.

nonetheless, every twilight, freya mourns the absence of her daughter. she sits by eden sea, the saltwater eve was born by. a place many say she use to love and live by, the salt making her feel alive. and while she drops pebbles into the water, freya sings the song of her daughter with a glass heart.

fragile you may seem,

with a heart filled by the sea,

but found you soon shall be,

come back home to me.