With his coat swaddled around his shoulders, Seonghwa pulled the door into the lock quietly. After a moment of waiting with bated breath, nothing moved inside. Relieved not to have woken his mother, Seonghwa distanced himself on his tiptoes. A thick layer of snow had fallen in the night, hiding the paths under its cold spread. Though the drowsy flocks of white eased into a light flurry, Seonghwa shouldn't stay out for too long, lest he didn't find his path back down to the village.

After greeting a boy on a walk with his dog, both missing an ear, Seonghwa made his way away from the drowsy yet sick village. He so easily forgot its suffering while they were cooped up inside the safety of their homes. But as soon as the sun unveiled their gruesome suffering that had no healing, Seonghwa's heart sank. He noticed the gazes of envy, of suspicion. Was well aware of how they profited off his strength yet wished he also lost it so they could all suffer together.

In his dreams, Seonghwa wished himself back to the time a year ago when everyone had still been fine. When they all laughed together, working and living alongside.

So many friends lost. And by now, everyone but Seonghwa was sick. Only waiting for the time their last breath shuddered through their battered bodies. 

Getting approached by the priest had become such a dreadful occasion. But even the priest was sick... might not be there anymore to send everyone off.

Shivering in the chilly morning air, Seonghwa found the path winding up the mountain. The graveyard overlooked the village from above. A sunny spot on the hill, blessed by the skies where the village ducked into the shadow of the forest. From a distance, Seonghwa could spot the familiar tombstones powdered by snow. So many more since recently.

Watchful of his step, Seonghwa made his way up. The climb was treacherous when he couldn't tell how high the snow piled and where he stepped upon bending branches instead of solid ground. Slowly and under the watchful eyes of the crows cawing at him in either mockery or cheer, Seonghwa made his way up. His breath formed white clouds before his face and dark hair fell into his face, overgrown to protect his ears and neck in winter. 

Not cold thanks to his coat and the collar, Seonghwa soon crossed the threshold between the gloomy valley and the hillside doused in the morning sun. The clouds cleared for him to wander a glittering spread of pure white. Healed by the warm caress against the fear in his heart, Seonghwa sighed. He wished to bring his mother here, to see her bask in the sun and grow strong and healthy. Wished having a cure was as easy as visiting this place.

During the day, the plateau bearing their dead wasn't scary. Wreaths of pine and berries wished well upon their deceased. The memories of friends and family greeted Seonghwa as if coming home after a long journey. And when he halted before his father's grave, the wilted leftovers of his favourite poppies looked elegant under their frozen capes. 

Fond, Seonghwa smiled down at the carved rock.

"Hello, father." Kneeling to dust the snow off the grave, Seonghwa fixed the wreath and added some thistle he picked up on the way. Made the remembrance of his father prettier. "I missed you, so I came to visit." He was about to continue talking about the village and his mother, about missing him, when he noticed the trail of footprints to his left. They had halted at the same grave, but they weren't Seonghwa's.

He had seen no traces leading up from the village. Where did these come from?

Confused about who might be visiting this grave aside from him, Seonghwa rose. He swiped his eyes along the area, but nothing moved. In serene silence, winter relished the touch of the sun. 

Hesitant, Seonghwa peered down at the sleepy village doused in shadows and illness. He should return soon. Shouldn't dawdle.

But Seonghwa noticed nothing peculiar. No haunting whispers and no shadows in the corner of his eye. Did a villager get stuck up in the mountains and didn't dare make the way down? Tried to find an alternative route?

What if they were hurt?

His worry urged Seonghwa to set one foot in front of the other, following the footprints up the side of the mountain. They were fresh, no older than a few hours. Decidedly human, they confused Seonghwa. So enraptured by this find, Seonghwa followed the caws of the crows, ready to return later to catch up with his father.

The footsteps led across boulders and narrow ridges, dipped beneath firs loaded with snow until they bent. Seonghwa didn't walk for long, but when he finally reached the end of the trail, he was out of breath and couldn't see the village anymore. Shrouded in fog and the angle of the mountain, it disappeared from sight.

Seonghwa came to the overhang of a rock. The ground here was wet but sheltered from the weather. The trail ended, but no person was in sight. 

Bewildered by what he had stumbled upon, Seonghwa rounded the boulder by his side. Had this been a bird's trace after all? But which bird was so big?

When his hand suddenly found no more support on the rough stone, Seonghwa's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't so close to the edge to tumble, but he caught his momentum with a mighty scare. Betrayed, he stared at the rock which had been meant to be there.

And it was still in its place. But where Seonghwa's hand landed, a narrow gap split down its side. It was just wide enough to squeeze through and the darkness beyond reached much further than the boulder would give away.

A cave?

How had no one found this? Granted, it was hidden, but Seonghwa would assume their hunters knew of it.

And they probably did. Since everyone fell sick, few wandered out into the wilderness. Perhaps someone got hurt and huddled away in this safe spot.

Since he couldn't just leave after getting this far, Seonghwa gathered his courage and squeezed through the gap. A peek would assure him he didn't leave an injured courier to die after losing his path. Admittedly, their village was difficult to reach when crossing from the mountains. 

The sound of dripping water greeted Seonghwa. Suddenly, his step fell quiet as his body blocked out the sparse light from outside. 

A far grotto spread before him, opening up to natural tunnels. Some peered towards the light, but all exits were covered by the snow. Seonghwa figured he might need a light source to explore deeper, but he was surprised once more. 

The rock glowed from within. At seemingly random spots dotted around the walls and ceiling of the cave, glowing purple light sources doused the sinister cavern in a surprisingly joyous atmosphere. Seonghwa investigated one such rock nearby, but there was no lantern and no fire beneath it. The source was within the rock. A gem, perhaps? Seonghwa heard how expensive and rare those could be. Was it for this peculiar glow?

Fascinated by his surroundings, Seonghwa wandered deeper. When the narrow tunnel soon opened to a grand underground cave, he was so astounded he barely noticed how the bleak rock beneath him turned into man-made stairs.

This place must have been the tomb of a castle fallen in ages long past. Seonghwa had seen the leftovers of what might have been a grandiose structure around the hills, but he never expected any leftovers to be buried beneath the earth. 

The walls stood tall and glorious. Rough cave rock blended into meticulous pillars and the towering statues of knights and kings. The grandest graves found niches in the walls and were inscribed with myth and legend. Smaller ones gathered everywhere between. Coffins of wood and stone placed into holes in the walls in neat rows. All were reachable by narrow staircases gathering in the grand middle of the room. More than enough space to prepare for the final rest and ceremonies of remembrance for the deceased. 

Yet, the awe-inspiring room wasn't as empty as one would think. Seonghwa was enraptured by what should have been dusty graves and a peaceful rest of those who died for their honorary wars. 

But shadows wandered this place. Seonghwa flinched when he first noticed them, undulating and shifting in spots that were supposed to be illuminated by the rocks. They had no specific shape, but they had voices. Whispering and wailing, restless like the dead. 

Slowly, Seonghwa dared closer. These were the same silhouettes his parents had warned him of and which haunted the graveyard. The priest told Seonghwa these were restless souls, not yet ready to move on, since their purpose in life was unfulfilled. Did they haunt this place because they couldn't say goodbye to their loved ones? Or because no one came to see them?

Driven by his curiosity and fascination, Seonghwa ventured down the stairs from the entrance. A stone table dominated the middle of the room and its sight was most peculiar. Streaming cauldrons assembled around the surface covered in flowers, herbs, colourful rocks and parchment scrolls. Several candles danced away in the same haunting purple light. 

How were these flowers still in bloom during the cold winter? And who kept these fires going?

As Seonghwa neared, he tried to make out the other various items strewn about the table. They looked like stone, pieces of a statue maybe. Was someone tending to these graves? Was that why they visited the graveyard near the village? 

Or was there even a connection between the restless spirits here and in Seonghwa's home?

His heart hammered in his chest as Seonghwa felt he was entering a place that shouldn't be entered. The whispers around him seemed to swell as they noticed his presence. Would they try to devour him? No, the dead couldn't hurt the living.

... right?

Some sort of totem decorated the long side of the table with its front facing away from Seonghwa. Since he wasn't sure what he was looking at, Seonghwa crept along the circle of the area, keeping his distance while he passed the graves around the wall. 

The narrow frame was draped with fabrics lined in red colour, presumably the material the past caretakers of this tomb dressed their dead in. Bones strung up along cords to decorate the structure and by its side leaned a long staff, carved from a human spine most macabre. It was taller than the structure itself and curled at the top with teeth that reminisced broken ribs. An animal's ridge, perhaps? Seonghwa had never seen one so long. 

Attached to the curled tip and bound with leather bands dangled a human skull. Empty eye sockets glowed with the same purple light.

The thing was haunting to look at, almost like some heathenish juggernaut. Seonghwa never carried the symbol of the church on his form, but he suddenly missed its soothing touch. Holding on to his reassurance that he could leave anytime and the magic lingering here couldn't hurt him, Seonghwa dared closer, getting a better look at the figure.

First, he presumed the book to be pinned to its shape, but he realised pale hands cradled it. The longer he considered it, the off-putting figure seemed humanoid. It had the appropriate height and broadness buried under all those fabrics and bones. 

Halting in his step, Seonghwa kept a wise distance to peer over the table. Was this an artwork meant to eternalise the work of the castle's embalmer?

Seonghwa's eyes widened when he realised those chunks of stone on the table resembled human limbs. Grey and deceptively realistic, with their leathery look, hands and feet were strewn among the occasional head. A macabre sight among those purple and white flowers. 

A shudder crawled down Seonghwa's spine. Perhaps he should come back another time with some villagers to explore this place. It was wrong to steal from the dead, but perhaps they found some resources further inside the cave.

Before Seonghwa could turn around and escape the whispers tickling at his brain, another voice lifted, so clear and powerful in comparison.

"What brings you here, wandering one?"

Frozen, Seonghwa tried to figure out where it came from and if he was in enough danger to run.

Then, the juggernaut before him slowly turned its hooded head. A black blindfold crossed across deathly pale features and its voice was so haunting that it chilled the blood in Seonghwa's veins. It rumbled like the depths, sounding inhumane in the grand echo of the tomb.

It had come from this statue that wasn't a statue.

Seonghwa was in the presence of a person.