A scream was stuck in Seonghwa's throat. He gulped it back bravely since he didn't want to offend the person working in such a lonesome and haunted place. Did they live here? Seonghwa had never seen such a person in their village and the footprints were undoubtedly theirs.

Now that the person turned, the picture pieced itself together. A dangling necklace of bones. The staff leaning against the table by their side. A book telling them the secrets of their work. Seonghwa couldn't read, but he knew those who did were educated in a way the people of his village weren't. Soon, awe washed over the initial shock.

Seonghwa couldn't keep his tongue, too invested in the way this person dressed.

"A-Are you a ghost?"

"A ghost?" Bloodless lips quirked into a grin. The pale features in that wide hood were pointed and sharp. It was impossible to tell a gender from vision alone.

And the tone of their voice...

Seonghwa peered around, put off by the swelling whispers. As if caught in the act, they quietened down. Did they not bother with this living person in their midst?

"I am perfectly alive. Do you seek to be a ghost, wandering into a place like this?"

Chilled once more, Seonghwa wrapped defensive arms around his body. His coat couldn't keep out the cold of the dead permeating his skin.

"N-No! I saw footprints outside and followed them here. You must be the embalmer."

"I tend to these graves," the person hummed in reply. Seonghwa felt scrutinised even when no eyes perceived him. Nervously, he rubbed over his collar, feeling its soothing hug. Right, Seonghwa was safe with his collar. His parents were always with him.

"Can you see me?" He asked meekly, knowing he was terribly impolite, but he never met such a peculiar individual before. They were so pale they must live among the shadows. Perhaps even befriended them?

"I don't need eyes to see. I can easily tell you aren't dead like the others here." Another grin. Seonghwa glanced away in shame. He probably made a ruckus while entering.

"I apologise for disturbing you. I come from the village down the hill."

Though that much must have been clear since all other places were far from the mountain range, the embalmer paused. They lowered their book onto their stone table and shadows of purple danced across the yellowed pages.

"What is your name?"

"S-Seonghwa," Seonghwa muttered softly. He didn't know if he was supposed to share his name with a stranger living in a cave. But they didn't attack Seonghwa upon entering their home and, though eerie, they seemed perfectly sane. Perhaps a hermit? The mayor mentioned a few lone shepherds in the area.

"Seonghwa..." The person mumbled. Their tone had shifted, as if the name reminded them of something. Home, perhaps? A family? Or even one of these ghostly companions?

"I'm Hongjoong." With a nod, the man finally unveiled his gender. Seonghwa nodded back shyly, almost glad he didn't have to shake his hand. Long nails grew from his pale fingers, rimmed with the black earth of his work. How many dead passed his hands? Did he steal their bones to fashion his outfit? Or did he merely like to blend with them?

The idea sparked a theory in Seonghwa's mind.

"Do you know about these shadows? Are they the souls of the dead? Our priest noticed them in our graveyard and claims it haunted, but they seem tame here." Possibly for the very reason that Hongjoong wore their garbs.

Once more, that fathomless voice surprised Seonghwa.

"That's because I am here."

A pale hand lifted towards the shadows. His fingers bent to beckon to come hither. Nervously, Seonghwa stuck near him and watched as a shadow glided over. It took shape, shifting and morphing to settle on something, and when it entered the pale purple shine of the candles, it suddenly gained the same pale colour of the deceased.

It was a small creature, almost impish. Though it swung up on the table with two arms and legs, the rest of it wasn't very human. Mischievous black eyes glinted in a hairless head and the pair of horns on top was as pointed as its razor-sharp grin.

Seonghwa startled at the vision. They could take shape? Or did some demon seize hold of the lost soul and consumed it?

Though Seonghwa knew of the magic in their lands, he rarely witnessed it in person. Had only seen the occasional fae or gnome on his walks in the forest. It was a mystery to him, but even he could tell that this scent of myrrh and incense was inherently more ominous than the magic he knew of.

Hongjoong placed a soothing palm on the head of the spirit.

"He is called Yunho, and he was once an honourable knight of this castle. Treason killed them and burnt their home and all its inhabitants to the ground. Many are still wrathful and yearn for justice," Hongjoong explained the story of the greedy-looking thing. He stared at Seonghwa as if he wanted to eat him and Seonghwa's nape felt hot with the tingling warning to stay away.

Yet, the creature was at ease, sitting down next to Hongjoong to play with a flower. He kept glancing at Seonghwa, engrossed by any living being. But the embalmer's presence appeared to soothe him.

"Oh... You seem to know this one," Seonghwa muttered, awed by the prospect of living with the souls of the dead. Hongjoong had to work here, so he befriended them, learned of their woes. If he could read, could he even communicate with them? The whispers Seonghwa heard were most senseless.

"My friends are all around you, quite obsessed."

Surprised, Seonghwa turned his head. His heart stuttered in his chest when he realised he was surrounded.

Pale faces stared back at him, some distorted into shrewd, inhumane grins and others wearing horns or antlers as their decoration of choice. One of them had the body of a snake and the hauntingly intelligent eyes of a human. Not all of them were complete. Some lacked limbs or entire chunks of their bodies. The one behind Seonghwa looked like the knight he might have been once, and he cradled his guts to his body. Though discoloured in the haunting purple hue and their ghostly transparency, the sight made Seonghwa's stomach twist.

They all hovered so close, took him in with eyes either rapacious or curious. The coldness originated from them, but they didn't harm Seonghwa.

Though he wanted nothing more than to scream and get some distance, Seonghwa bravely battled his instincts. These were Hongjoong's friends, peculiar as they looked. It would be rude to blanch in fear, so Seonghwa stood his ground. Counted on his collar to protect him.

As usual, its heat soothed his nerves. Seonghwa averted his eyes to peer back at the table, calming himself by not looking at the horrific figures behind him.

They didn't choose death. They were victims of injustice and reason.

Hongjoong seemed pleased by his resilience. His smirk was serene as he flicked through his book.

"I visited your graveyard because I noticed many new souls joining there. Just like these, many died in contempt. It's a restless place; your priest is right about that. I'm trying to help these spirits find their purpose, so I was drawn to the situation at your village, yet found no answers to my questions. What happened there?"

Soothed by the presence of another human in the dim grotto, Seonghwa pondered the snickering imp by his side. He had picked up the stone hand that looked so deceptively real. Played with its form.

Surely, if the decorations of this place weren't to be disturbed, Hongjoong wouldn't be here doing... whatever he was doing. The longer Seonghwa contemplated his surroundings, the less they looked like those of an embalmer. But maybe he was here in remembrance. After all, these people had died a long time ago.

Someone was tugging on Seonghwa's hair, but he didn't mind it.

"An illness struck our village. Peeling the flesh from our people's bones and eating them from the inside out. I dare say they are rotting as they still wander among us and a painful death expects them. Many died without a cure or hope. I imagine that's what drove them mad. One by one, they are wasting away. There is no one left to tend to our dead properly. I assume this abrupt end and the lack of care adds to their fury."

The dead must be jealous of the living. But they had no other choice but to accept the villagers were unable to tend to them any longer. Those still strong needed to tend to those dying at the moment. Even Seonghwa needed to hurry back soon to look after the well and his mother.

"You don't seem to be sick," Hongjoong noted with a glance down Seonghwa's body. Now that they were so near, Seonghwa was slightly taller than the mysterious hermit. The staff still loomed over him. The light source inside the skull swayed ominous purple light across the table when Hongjoong placed it by his side so Seonghwa wouldn't knock into it.

Who was he, beneath his robes? His voice was young, but he carried the wisdom of an old man. Was he a descendant of the inhabitants of the castle? The grandchild of a physician family?

If he knew about plants and books, he might be able to help Seonghwa, even if just by finding some sources addressing the village's disease.

"Yes, I... I am the only one. But I care for my people."

Hongjoong's contemplative silence wondered why he was the only one. What made Seonghwa different from the rest. But his eyes were hidden from view and Seonghwa couldn't read his expression.

Seonghwa was glad he didn't ask. Though he had no explanation anyway, this topic was sensitive and perhaps too private to share with someone outside the village.

"You know the dead. Do you reckon there is a cure for our suffering?" Seonghwa asked and Hongjoong leaned on his staff, pondering deeply. The whispering and uttering of the dead around Seonghwa gave him input. Yunho twirled some flower branches in his fingers whose green leaves cradled black berries in a star-shaped hug.

"Rotting alive, you say..." Hongjoong muttered to himself. He tugged another book over and contemplated the text on the page. Seonghwa was sure these symbols were different from the ones their mayor and the priest could read. Much more complex and difficult.

Hongjoong was deep in thought when he replied. The ghostly snake wound over his shoulder and around his staff, peering down at the text with him. The sight was frightening, but Seonghwa didn't let it show on his features. He couldn't use magic or even hope to understand it. This place was special and Hongjoong navigated it well.

"To heal an illness, you must understand where it spawns from. Find the source," he suggested.

But Seonghwa was helpless. How would he know if they were struck by fate or if the very ground they lived on was the problem? Clearly, the illness didn't spring over like the flu since he was unharmed.

"We searched for so long, prayed and changed our diet and our water. I don't know anymore where else to try. Can you help me?"

Hongjoong contemplated him for a long time. Listened to the whispers of the ghosts around him. Then, ultimately, he nodded.

"Support me with my current project, and then I can see to the issue in the village. Come visit me tomorrow and help me soothe these spirits, then we can soothe your people."

Perhaps he couldn't help the living, but at the slightest chance that the dead haunted them with illness and contempt, Hongjoong might be the key to the cure. Thus, Seonghwa nodded eagerly and sent him a bright grin, knowing Hongjoong perceived it in whatever capacity.

"Thank you so much. I'm glad I found you."

An unreadable smile graced Hongjoong's lips.

"I'm also pleased to have made your acquaintance, Seonghwa."

Giddy to rush back and tell his people about Hongjoong, Seonghwa made for the exit.

"I must hurry now, but I will be back! See you tomorrow!"

Hongjoong remained with his undulating spirits, petting their heads while bent over his readings with the stillness of a statue. He was peculiar, but Seonghwa feared him no longer. Hongjoong was a stranger, but he meant well. Honoured the dead and the living.

On quick feet and winged by his newfound hope in the mysterious enigma Hongjoong was, Seonghwa hurried out of the cave and down the hill to return to his village before someone wondered where he had disappeared to.