The graveyard was cold, but you had nowhere else to go, tethered to your grave with no way to leave your body below.

You wandered the fields a long dead ghost, trying to stay out of sight of the Lightkeepers who so often wandered it. You watched them purge others of your kind- the ones who’d become corrupted by the abyss.

———

You had found yourself in a bad spot. Caught between two groups of corrupted spirits locked in combat, you managed to slip and hide behind a gravestone.

As you watched the conflict, a figure appears from the shadows. You’ve never seen him before, but his spear crackles and light glows a deep red. You recall whispered fears from other spirits- ‘If you see a red lantern, just run. It’s Flins.’

In moves so fluid you can’t track them, he dismantles the warring spirits. And you feel yourself snap. When you shake off your disorientation, you see the tether that had so long bound you to the grave dissipate. You were free- because of that Lightkeeper.

A spear point at your throat. When you look up, piercing golden eyes meet yours.

“Oh? What have we here?”