The graveyard was not just a resting place—it was a world in itself. Forgotten by the living, untouched by time, and blanketed in an eternal hush. Moss climbed the crooked headstones like slow, green fingers, and the air smelled of damp earth and faded memory. Even in the heart of spring, no birds sang here. No breeze whispered through the gnarled branches above. This was a place the wind had long since abandoned.
Arielle moved barefoot among the graves, her small feet calloused from years of walking this land. She was a thin, dark-haired girl, no older than ten, with skin browned by sun and dirt and eyes that never seemed to blink too long. She didn't speak often. She didn't need to. Not when the only company she had were the dead—and an old man who didn't ask for words.
At this moment, she sat before a broken tombstone. The name etched into it had been worn away by rain and time, leaving behind only traces of letters and a lingering feeling. Not memory. Just… sorrow.
She could feel it. Heavy and low, like the hum of a sorrowful lullaby in her chest.
It was always like that when she sat near a grave for long. The feelings of the dead didn't come as thoughts or voices—just weight. Fear. Anger. Love. Pain. She couldn't explain it, not even to herself. But she had learned to recognize them. To carry them without letting them become her.
A dry cough snapped the silence.
Xu An emerged from the edge of the graveyard path, hunched under the weight of firewood. He wore layers of faded cloth patched in too many places, and his white beard hung wild down his chest. He was an old man who walked like his bones had made peace with the earth already.
"You're sitting by him again," he muttered, setting the bundle down near her.
Arielle didn't respond.
"He's the one who died in battle," Xu An continued, settling beside her on a flat rock. "Took three arrows to the chest. No one came to claim him. I dug his grave with my bare hands. That was… what? Fifty years ago?"
Arielle ran her fingers along the stone again.
"Does he talk to you?"
She shook her head slowly. "Just sadness."
Xu An grunted. "Better than the ones who scream."
That earned a flicker of movement from Arielle's face. Not quite a smile, but close.
Xu An unwrapped a cloth from his belt and handed her a piece of hard bread. "Eat. Can't feel the dead on an empty stomach. Or maybe you can. I've never tried."
Arielle took the bread. It was stale, but she bit into it quietly. This was their rhythm. Days passed with few words. They lived in a one-room wooden hut tucked just beyond the tombstones. Xu An dug graves. She helped tend them. No visitors ever came.
Not even ghosts.
Only feelings.
She chewed slowly and asked, "Where did I come from?"
Xu An looked at her. He didn't answer right away.
"You were in the woods. Nearly dead. Couldn't remember your name. You had this look in your eyes—like the world already buried you."
He scratched his chin.
"I could've left you. But I didn't. You didn't cry. You just stared at me. So I called you Arielle. Don't ask me why. Just sounded like someone who didn't belong in the world."
She nodded. She didn't remember anything before the graveyard.
Just waking up, wrapped in silence and dirt, staring at a sky the color of ash.
That night, long after Xu An fell asleep, Arielle sat near the hearth. The fire was low, casting orange light over the wooden walls and their scattered tools. Shadows danced like silent ghosts.
And then she heard it.
A voice—not from outside.
From within.
"You see them, but you do not hear them."
Arielle flinched.
"The feelings you carry are not yours. You are a vessel."
The voice was female. Soft. Calm, yet ancient. It echoed not in her ears, but inside her bones.
"You were born at a crossing—where life and death blur. You are not like them. Not like him."
Her chest felt tight.
"To cultivate the soul is to know sorrow. To shape grief into strength. You must learn to draw power not from the body, but from what lingers after."
The voice paused.
And then, a word bloomed in her mind like fire:
Kido.
She saw it—etched into nothingness. A glowing rune. Light folded into shape. Her eyes widened. It wasn't just sound. It was real. A spark of something ancient, yet waiting for her.
In that moment, Arielle didn't feel afraid. She felt… seen.
Later, as she lay on the floor beside Xu An's cot, she whispered, "Am I a ghost?"
He didn't wake.
But deep inside her, the voice answered.
"No. You are the door."