The Unseen Guest

 **The Unseen Guest**

Families, friends, and well-wishers all gathered at St. Priscilla church to witness the grand ceremony. Azumya, the most handsome man ever seen or whispered was to marry the young Phita.

As the organ's melody filled the air, a chill descended upon the church. Whispers among the congregation grew; a presence was felt, unseen but as real as the stone beneath their feet. It was the spirit of the forest, bound by an ancient oath to Azumya, who now watched her promised love pledge himself to another, the one Phita.

Father Zemole raised his hands, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here—”

But the spirit would not be silenced. With a voice like the rustling leaves, it spoke, “Azumya is mine!”

The church gasped, and Father Zemole's words faltered. “Who dares interrupt this sacred union?”

“I am Ozum, the spirit of the forest,” it declared, “and Azumya sworn himself to me, here and in the life hereafter.”

Back then, before any one every knew him, Azumya was an ugly beast. There in the forest, a poor shy boy, got his boons, the spirit Ozum remolded him into the most beautiful man to walk the lands, and vowed to marry no soul but hers, when the right time came, and eternal as a one.

The clergy, with Bible in hand, stepped forward. “Begone, spirit! This is a place of God! I curse you in the name of the Almighty Lord Jesus Christ.”

Yet the spirit persisted, its love undying, its will unyielding. The holy water splashed against an invisible force; the sacred verses echoed in vain. The kings and queens, the nobles and peasants, all stood watching, astonished and fearful.

The church trembled, stones cracking, as the spirit's fury manifested. A storm raged outside, and water seeped from the very ground, as if the earth itself wept at the sorrow of the spirit.

In the face of such power, the clergy yielded. “What is it you desire?” Father Zemole asked, his voice trembling.

“You and the king shall bind me and Azumya before the kingdom,” Ozum demanded.

Azumya accepted, and the poor Phita could not dare the desperate spirit, everyone else consented.

Golden rings were brought forth, and as the ceremony began anew, the spirit's form shimmered into view. It manifested in a dress of glittering light that the church held its breath at the sight, desiring the its beauty.

With the vows spoken, the spirit and Azumya were bound. And in that moment, Azumya's breath ceased, his body fell, and his spirit rose, entwined with that of his immaterial bride.

The church stood in silence, the storm calmed, and the waters receded. Azumya and the spirit, now one, vanished into the realm of legend, leaving behind a tale of love, both haunted and hallowed.

The lonely Phita, in her brand-new bride dress, looking sobbingly at her dream breathless, vowed to venture the ethereal world, seek vengeance, and reunite with her love.

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