The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a pale light over the rows of graves. Sonia walked along; she had been here several days before, watching stoically as the coffin holding her lover's body had been lowered six feet under.
If I had only been with him...
She had been at their apartment, cooking a delicious dinner, when she had received the fateful phone call.
Brett had been on his way back from work, having stayed late. A driver boasting the horrific combination of impatience and inattentiveness had ran a red light and hit him.
If only I had been there...
He had died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.
If I had been there I could have...
She shook her head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. They had plagued her as soon as she had learned of Brett's fate, and had spent so much time imagining scenarios in which she had been with him, able to use magic to stop the car or bring him back from the brink.
But no matter the scenario, the reality was that she had not been there, and Brett was dead.
And no matter how much she told herself that they were useless, the thoughts would always return.
The weather had changed to match her own sorrow, having rained intermittently throughout the past several days. The grass between graves was still slick with wetness.
She reached his grave.
Brett's family had chosen a simple headstone, inscribed with the usual details.
Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand in a simple gesture.
Shovelfuls of dirt flew off the grave, making mounds on either side of it, until the coffin was visible.
With another gesture, the coffin rose from its place, and tilted upwards.
A third gesture, and the lid swung open.
Tears threatened to spill at the sight before her.
He looks so peaceful.
Sonia took a deep breath, moving her hand to intercept one tear that had dared to fall. At the funeral, she had placed his body into a stasis, to ward off any decomposition that might happen in the intervening days. It had been for her own benefit; while she could have easily reversed the effects, it would have been a painful sight to see his body succumbing to the ravages of death.
The night was quiet, but Sonia cast furtive glances around. Nobody knew her plan, but she had heard enough stories about witches being punished for breaking the rules to not be extra aware of her surroundings.
What she had come to do was forbidden among all practitioners of magic, as decreed by the Council of Vienna in 1449. Any person engaging in such a practice would be forcibly depowered and imprisoned.
But the love that Sonia knew for Brett was profound. Such a punishment seemed meager for what the reward could be.
She had though it over, and it had been an easy decision. Nobody would know what she had done, and she would return Brett to death at the end of their rendezvous.
The first part of her plan involved repairing his broken and battered body. The mortician had done an admirable job making him presentable for the wake and funeral, but there was still extensive damage within. It was an easy task for any witch to heal such wounds, but she was battling tears, imagining his last moments, again cursing herself for not having been there. The repairs took several minutes, as she located the points of damage, stitching muscle and tendon back together, resetting bone into place. She did her absolute best to focus, knowing that a single slip-up could mean great pain for him once resurrected.
After she was satisfied with the repairs, she set onto the next and most integral part of her plan.
Her hands rose, and began to move, weaving intricate patterns through the air. The leaves on nearby trees rustled, the grass beneath her swaying gently, as if disturbed by some invisible force. Her hands continued to move, a reddish flow suffusing the space between them.
And then the red began to push forward, until it met the dead body before her. Sonia held her breath as it seeped into it, disappearing in seconds.
A deep, rattling breath spilled from his lungs.
One moment later, and his eyes flew open, the blue there so familiar.
It took him several moments to notice her standing there. It took him several more before he stepped forward, climbing out of his coffin.
"Sonia," he rasped, confusion replacing the pain in his eyes.
"Brett," she answered, walking forward to pull him into a strong embrace.
Her lips found his, and although they tasted sour, she did not care.
His hands landed on her hips, and he squeezed, making her murmur, pressing herself into him.
"What did you do?" he asked, breaking the kiss to nuzzle at her shoulder.
"I brought you back," she told him, running her hands through his shaggy brown hair.
"How?"
"Easily."
He chuckled softly, kissing her again.
"I thought resurrection was impossible."
She smiled, slightly distracted by his hands running along her body, squeezing at her ass, stroking along her thighs.
"We only say it is to stop people from asking us to do it. But it is forbidden."
"If it's forbidden, why did you do it?"
Smiling sadly, tears still threatening to fall, she kissed him again, luxuriating in the simple feel of his lips on hers.
"Because I love you."
He cocked his head.
"Am I back for good?"
She shook her head.
"No. Only for tonight. They would know I did it, and they would punish the both of us."
