It was always cold outside in a forest. Seasons didn’t change that fact for most of the areas in this country where even the smallest, most south-placed groups of trees can give you a good chill across your spine; especially at night. A graveyard in the middle of shrubbery didn’t really help as the mere thought of someone lying dead in a forest could give a lot of people widespread goosebumps across their bodies. It was in such a horror-themed place that the ghost mage wandered across in the middle of the night, his footsteps being the only source of sound in that ecosystem…
“. . . . .” If you looked closely, Mura’s face was about to burst out with another source of sound; a pitching roar of fright. This place was far, repeat, FAR from his ideal area of peace. In the violet reflections of leaves, grey logs, dead trees with extremely long branches; not to mention the giant graveyard itself, it all pointed towards the presence of a term that Mura just couldn’t handle; ghosts. It would sound as ridiculously ironic as you might think, but this shaman was afraid of the good-old classic appearance of a ghost; all horrific, frightening, only up to cause a ballad and strike fear into one from behind, as well as transparent in front of any person who might get unlucky enough to encounter one in his past. Heck, how many ‘ghosts’ had Mura met in his life? Why was he, of all mages, of all people, scared of such a hilarious thing as a scary ghost from some Halloween movie? No answer was ever given.
“… I think that Mura finally lost it,” a certain samurai spirit spoke out, “Coming to a place like this…” “Hmpf, as if I care the least about his sanity,” another certain voice replied, a little deeper than the first voice, “Besides, you haven’t said a thing to him the entire time. If you're worried... why?”
“Well, Mura always seems to have a proper reason to do the most ridiculous things…”
“Then what do you think is the reason now?”
“… Well. Perhaps someone’s buried here?”
“That he knows?”
“Yeah. It could be a relative. He’s always extremely tied up to his family.”
“But… why would any man of Midi be buried here? Wasn’t Mura the first one to cross the border?”
“That’s not true. Mura’s one of the only ones, but not the first. Also, it could be others than just his family; old friends… that I never met. Or something like that.”
“Yeah, right. And that comes from the warrior that’d guarded his favorite medium for years.”
“And that’ll stay ‘till the end. Dot. Although, who knows?”
“… Then why does his face look so torn up? It’s pretty obvious that he’s not in favor of walking around here.”
“Mura’s very confident. Perhaps he saw this ‘fear’ of places like these as an obstacle, and wanted to get rid of it.”
“It seems to work well at the moment.”
“Hey, at least he’s doing it. Right now.”
“I know. I guess that we shouldn’t worry that much, anyway.”
“Right… I miss tits.”
“..? Wait, what did you just say?”
“Oh, nothing… hehehe…”
Mura could hear all of it, the entire conversation was now memorized by him as he walked further into the graveyard. Why the hell are they worried? I'm fine... juuuuust fine, he reminded himself countless times that he was a-okay, I'm just a little uncomfortable... everyone's uncomfortable around here. Even people like Takumi... or Hera. Well, perhaps not Takumi, but I'm sure that Hera would be. He barely knew what exactly that he was searching for anymore; it came to his mind as a swift reminder of something EXTREMELY important, in which he sought the cause of this message that was given to his mind last night. However, by time, the message faded away with its voice of an old, authorised being..
“. . . . .” If you looked closely, Mura’s face was about to burst out with another source of sound; a pitching roar of fright. This place was far, repeat, FAR from his ideal area of peace. In the violet reflections of leaves, grey logs, dead trees with extremely long branches; not to mention the giant graveyard itself, it all pointed towards the presence of a term that Mura just couldn’t handle; ghosts. It would sound as ridiculously ironic as you might think, but this shaman was afraid of the good-old classic appearance of a ghost; all horrific, frightening, only up to cause a ballad and strike fear into one from behind, as well as transparent in front of any person who might get unlucky enough to encounter one in his past. Heck, how many ‘ghosts’ had Mura met in his life? Why was he, of all mages, of all people, scared of such a hilarious thing as a scary ghost from some Halloween movie? No answer was ever given.
“… I think that Mura finally lost it,” a certain samurai spirit spoke out, “Coming to a place like this…” “Hmpf, as if I care the least about his sanity,” another certain voice replied, a little deeper than the first voice, “Besides, you haven’t said a thing to him the entire time. If you're worried... why?”
“Well, Mura always seems to have a proper reason to do the most ridiculous things…”
“Then what do you think is the reason now?”
“… Well. Perhaps someone’s buried here?”
“That he knows?”
“Yeah. It could be a relative. He’s always extremely tied up to his family.”
“But… why would any man of Midi be buried here? Wasn’t Mura the first one to cross the border?”
“That’s not true. Mura’s one of the only ones, but not the first. Also, it could be others than just his family; old friends… that I never met. Or something like that.”
“Yeah, right. And that comes from the warrior that’d guarded his favorite medium for years.”
“And that’ll stay ‘till the end. Dot. Although, who knows?”
“… Then why does his face look so torn up? It’s pretty obvious that he’s not in favor of walking around here.”
“Mura’s very confident. Perhaps he saw this ‘fear’ of places like these as an obstacle, and wanted to get rid of it.”
“It seems to work well at the moment.”
“Hey, at least he’s doing it. Right now.”
“I know. I guess that we shouldn’t worry that much, anyway.”
“Right… I miss tits.”
“..? Wait, what did you just say?”
“Oh, nothing… hehehe…”
Mura could hear all of it, the entire conversation was now memorized by him as he walked further into the graveyard. Why the hell are they worried? I'm fine... juuuuust fine, he reminded himself countless times that he was a-okay, I'm just a little uncomfortable... everyone's uncomfortable around here. Even people like Takumi... or Hera. Well, perhaps not Takumi, but I'm sure that Hera would be. He barely knew what exactly that he was searching for anymore; it came to his mind as a swift reminder of something EXTREMELY important, in which he sought the cause of this message that was given to his mind last night. However, by time, the message faded away with its voice of an old, authorised being..