Dig

I grabbed the shovel, its wooden handle smooth and worn from years of use. The weight of it was familiar in my hands. The air was damp, carrying the scent of overturned earth and old wood. It was a quiet afternoon, the fog still lingering low across the graveyard, making the world feel smaller.

With a deep breath, I plunged the shovel into the ground. Thud. The impact vibrated up my arms. The soil was damp but firm, giving way as I pressed my foot against the metal blade.

Schffft.

A chunk of earth lifted, breaking apart as I tossed it aside.

Digging graves was something I had done before, but never alone. It was strange how natural the motion became, how my body moved without thought. The repetition of dig, lift, toss was almost meditative.

But my mind was restless.

Even as I worked, my thoughts kept returning to what I had seen earlier—the deep red presence lurking in the distance. It made my stomach churn. Spirits shouldn't remain after purification. That was the whole point of the rites. Once a body was blessed and buried, the soul should pass on, leaving nothing behind but memory.

So why were they still here?

The rhythmic sounds of my work continued.

Thud. Schffft.

Maybe some spirits lingered due to regrets? That was what I had been told before. The dead held onto something, whether it was love, anger, or unfinished business. But even so, the church's purification rites were supposed to sever that connection.

Dig. Lift. Toss.

Yet, I could see them. The colors. Some faint, some strong.

Does that mean the rites are incomplete?

I paused, wiping my forehead. A bead of sweat dripped onto the wooden handle of the shovel. The grave was deep enough now; one more round and it would be ready.

I exhaled, gripping the shovel tighter.

I needed more information.

Father Lucian should know something, but if I asked too soon, I might reveal more than I intended.

The church had already begun keeping a distance from me after the incident at the altar.

If I suddenly started asking about lingering spirits, they might start to suspect something was wrong with me.

Worse, they might think I was possessed.

Thud. Schffft.

I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away. I had to be careful. If I wanted answers, I needed to observe first—gather evidence before bringing it up.

I adjusted my grip and continued digging, feeling the weight of the grave settle around me. The scent of damp earth filled my nose, grounding me in the present.

I had always been told that graves were a place of rest, a final home for those who had left this world.

But now, standing knee-deep in a pit meant to hold the dead, I wasn't sure if that was true anymore. If the spirits hadn't moved on, then was this really their final resting place?

Or were they trapped here?

The thought made my skin prickle.

I finished the grave and climbed out, patting the dirt from my clothes. The fog had thickened, curling around the tombstones like waiting hands. The graveyard stretched out in silence, but now, I wasn't sure if I was truly alone.

I needed to learn more. But first, I had to be cautious.

Thud. Schfft. Thud.

The weight of the shovel pressed into my palms as I dug into the damp earth.

The sound of shifting soil filled the air, steady and rhythmic, almost meditative—if not for the thoughts stirring in my mind.

I had spent enough time in this world to understand its basics, but certain things still threw me off.

The calendar, for example. It wasn't entirely different from what I knew, yet it carried a structure that felt unfamiliar.

The current calendar was said to have been established by King Cevoilus von Sendreil, the first ruler of the Veraen Empire.

His name, Cevoilus, was taken from the ancient word cévoil, meaning "eclipse."

The old records said he created the calendar to align with the cycles of both the sun and the moons, ensuring that every three hundred and eighty-four days held significance.

The months were named after celestial events, old deities, and natural cycles.

Vérrun – The first month, meaning "awakening sky."

Sundel – Named after the first moon's brightest phase.

Arenis – Meaning "thaw," marking the shift to warmth.

Forneir – Meaning "budding," when crops begin to grow.

Teyrnis – From teyrr, meaning "bright days."

Varlis – Meaning "golden sun," the height of summer.

Lunirel – From luni, meaning "silver night."

Senvair – Meaning "falling leaves."

Morveil – Meaning "waning sun."

Nocten – From nocte, meaning "long night."

Cévoil – Named after the eclipse month, when both moons align.

Draevis – Meaning "fading," the last cycle of the year.

Each month carried thirty-two days, divided into weeks of eight days:

Solis – Named after the sun, a day of rest.

Marnis – A day for traders and commerce.

Vendral – A day for military drills and duty.

Osteris – A day of labor and craftsmanship.

Tenvail – A day of study and learning.

Drassel – A day dedicated to worship.

Kairn – A day of remembrance for the dead.

Velis – A transition day, marking the week's end.

I had memorized the names over time, but even now, they felt somewhat unnatural on my tongue.

Schfft. Thud.

I exhaled, wiping the sweat from my brow. This world had its own ways, and I could adapt to most things, but there were some aspects I still found irritating.

Like the toilets.

I had spent my whole life with modern plumbing—running water, flush systems, even scented soap.

Here? A cramped wooden stall, a hole in the ground, and a bucket of questionable-smelling water.

Every time I had to use it, I felt an overwhelming sense of discomfort.

The worst part was the lack of privacy; if someone passed by, the flimsy wooden walls did nothing to block out sound.

It made me hesitant.

I had been holding it in since morning, but I knew I couldn't avoid it much longer.

I groaned, stabbing the shovel into the dirt.

This world had its wonders, but damn, some things were hard to get used to.

I dusted off my hands and leaned against the shovel, catching my breath. The grave was done, the soil settled, and my work for now was complete.

But then—a chill ran through me.

It wasn't the wind. The air was still, heavy even, but something distant gnawed at the edge of my senses.

My gaze drifted toward the far end of the graveyard, to the very place where I had seen that red light before.

It was Kairn today.

A day meant to honor the dead. A day when spirits were closest to the world of the living.

I clenched my jaw.

If that thing I saw before was a spirit, then today of all days, it might be at its strongest. Aggressive, even. The thought made my grip tighten around the handle of the shovel.

I wasn't foolish enough to investigate—not yet. I had no way of knowing what I was up against, and if the red color I saw truly signified danger, then rushing toward it would be nothing but suicide.

I exhaled slowly.

I forced myself to look away from the distant red glow. There was no point in standing around in the cold, staring at something I couldn't yet understand.

My body was exhausted from digging, and my mind was weighed down by everything I had seen today.

I slung the shovel over my shoulder and made my way back to the small house. Each step felt heavier than the last, the dirt path uneven beneath my boots.

Crunch, crunch.

The sound of dry grass and soil shifting underfoot was the only thing accompanying me as I walked.

By the time I reached the door, the sky had darkened further. Kairn. The night would be long.

I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, locking it out of habit. The room was dimly lit by a single candle, its weak flame flickering against the walls.

I set my shovel against the corner, shook off the dust from my clothes, and stretched my arms, feeling the stiffness in my muscles.

Routine. Keep to the routine.

First, I washed my hands and face using the basin of water near the window. The water was cold, but it helped clear my mind.

Next, I checked the small supply of food I had. A simple meal—bread, dried meat, and some water. I ate in silence, my thoughts drifting back to what I had seen today.

After eating, I took a moment to write down a few notes in the small journal I had been given.

It wasn't much, just a record of the bodies buried today, the condition of the graves, and any unusual occurrences.

Red light in the graveyard. Possible spirit. Observed from a distance. Did not follow me.

I closed the book and set it aside.

The final task—checking the house. I made sure the doors and windows were secure, that nothing had shifted out of place. It was a habit now, one that brought a strange sense of comfort.

Then, at last, I lay down on the bed.

The mattress was thin, the blanket rough, but I didn't care. My body ached, my mind was tired, and sleep would come whether I wanted it or not.

I exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling.

---

A vast, empty void stretched endlessly in all directions. No sky, no ground, no sound—just an infinite nothingness. I couldn't feel my body, couldn't even tell if I was breathing.

And then, amidst the nothing, I saw him.

A man in a sharp, black suit stood a short distance away, his back turned to me. His figure was crisp and clear, as if he didn't belong to this emptiness. But his face—his face was wrong.

It was the same as what I saw in the mirror. Twisted. Distorted. As if reality itself refused to acknowledge what he truly looked like.

I tried to move, but I had no body. I looked down—or at least, I tried to—but there was nothing. No hands, no feet, no form at all. I simply was.

The man shifted slightly, tilting his head as if he knew I was there. Then, in a calm, steady voice, he spoke.

"What do you desire?"

The question rang in my head like a bell, vibrating deep into my thoughts. It wasn't just sound—it was something more invasive, something that sank directly into my mind.

I couldn't answer. My thoughts were sluggish, trapped in this strange void. Did I even have a voice here?

Before I could try, the world collapsed around me.

I woke up gasping for breath, my body drenched in sweat. My heart pounded violently in my chest as I clutched at the blanket beneath me.

"Ha.. hah..."

What the hell was that?

I wiped the sweat from my face, trying to calm myself, but the feeling of that place still clung to me. The emptiness. The faceless man. The question.

What do you desire?

I didn't have an answer. But I had a feeling that wouldn't be the last time I heard that question.