Faire Nessimore cami

"Why do you seek me?" he asked.

"I wasn't seeking," I answered.

"Everyone seeks me," his voice was quiet, like the wind rustling in a night garden. – "But only those who are ready find me..."

He was called Faire Nessimore – the Dark Spirit of Tenderness. Unlike other spirits that sought worship or fear, this one desired only one thing – understanding.

I met him in the twilight, on the border between sleep and wakefulness. I don't know whether he came to me or I to him. I only know that when he appeared, the air grew thicker and the shadows – softer.

"What do you fear most?" he asked in a whisper.

I wanted to answer "darkness" or "loneliness," but something else escaped my lips:
"I fear being seen."

He came closer – a dark silhouette against the darkness, barely outlined by the moonlight that filtered through the window.

"People fear either being seen or being overlooked," he said. – "But few understand: true freedom lies in choosing when and how to be visible."

He extended to me a dark fabric, so light that it seemed woven from night air. When I took it in my hands, it flowed between my fingers like water but didn't fall, instead enveloping my body like a second skin.

"This is not clothing," Faire Nessimore uttered. – "This is a boundary. Between what you reveal and what you preserve. Between who you are by day and who you become at night."

Something changed from that night. I no longer feared darkness – neither external nor internal. At night, wrapped in the black veil of Faire Nessimore, I felt a strange power. Not power over others, but power over my fears, my desires, my dreams.

When he came to me, he always looked as if he saw not the body through transparent fabric but the soul through the body. His touches were like twilight – neither cold nor hot, but such that made the skin remember.

They say that Faire Nessimore comes only to those who stand at the threshold – not between life and death, but between the familiar and the unknown, between fear and desire. He appears to those who seek not passion, but peace; not excitement, but comfort; not possession, but belonging.

Historians mention a mysterious cult of women who wore black, semi-transparent clothing to symbolise their inner strength. They weren't afraid to be visible, because they knew: the true secret is not in hiding, but in showing only what you yourself have decided to reveal.

Faire Nessimore's dark attire wasn't created to seduce others. It was created to remind the wearer that sometimes, it is in darkness that the deepest tenderness, the quietest intimacy, and the strongest trust are born.

Nobody knows whether Faire Nessimore was a real spirit or merely a reflection of our own desires. But his gift – the understanding that impenetrable darkness and absolute transparency can exist simultaneously – remains with those who have ever met him in the twilight between sleep and wakefulness.