When the Coffin Was Lifted… The Impossible Happened

The priest’s voice trembled as he spoke the final blessing.
Six men stepped forward to lift Thomas’s coffin — a simple oak box lined with white lilies — and carry it toward the waiting hearse. The crowd bowed their heads in solemn silence.

Then, out of nowhere, a sharp, echoing sound pierced the air.
A hennissement — a horse’s cry, long and haunting, rolling across the valley like a call from another world.

Everyone turned.

From beyond the line of trees that bordered the cemetery, a shape appeared — white against the dark backdrop of rain-soaked forest. It moved slowly but deliberately, hooves splashing through the mud, mane tangled and wet, chest heaving with exhaustion.

It was Storm.