The Bridge of Silent Names

There was once a bridge that no one built. It simply appeared every hundred years at the edge of the Mistlands, stretching across an abyss that had no bottom.

Travelers said that if you spoke a loved one’s name aloud as you crossed, you’d hear their voice echo in the mist. Some heard laughter. Some heard weeping.

Amara came one autumn night carrying a lantern and her mother’s name trembling on her lips. Her mother had died long ago — or perhaps just disappeared.

As she walked, the wind carried whispers around her: fragments of lullabies, childhood prayers, and the smell of cinnamon bread.

Halfway across, she saw her mother’s silhouette waiting on the other side, smiling softly.

The climax: When Amara stepped forward to embrace her, the bridge began to fade. Her mother whispered,

“You’ve remembered me. That is enough.”

When Amara awoke, she was back at the edge of the abyss — but the bridge was gone. Only her lantern remained, glowing faintly, with two shadows instead of one.