1. Specters and the Cemetery Social
Chapter 1
A cute bell chimed.
With a burst of dazzling light, rainbow glitter showered down in a riot of color.
At the center stood a young lady, looking freshly come of age.
Moments later the fantastic glow faded, and focus returned to her violet eyes.
“Cheapest fruit in the Verdi Empire!”
“Come get your freshly baked, piping hot bread!”
The air rang with merchants’ cries. The young lady looked around, bewildered.
“…Where am I?”
She turned her head; a storefront window reflected a young woman in a knee-length black dress and matching shoes. Soft pink hair fell to her waist, and amethyst eyes glimmered like gems.
“…?”
She slipped a hand into the dress pocket and felt a pocket watch—and a single coin.
“Is this my name…?”
The watch was engraved: Lina Eristto. It seemed to be hers.
“What am I doing here right now?”
But she couldn’t remember a thing.
…What do I do now?
Lina watched the sun tilt lower with anxious eyes.
From behind her came a tiny yawn.
“Haam.”
Lina turned and rubbed her eyes before she even realized it.
…A cat?
A black cat stretched and yawned like a person.
But the instant its gaze met Lina’s, the cat froze—as if sweating bullets. Its yellow eyes flicked nervously to and fro.
“Hmm… Did I imagine that?”
She tilted her head. Probably just her mood. It only looked like the cat nodded at her words.
“Huh?”
The cat edged backward carefully, then beat a hasty retreat—as if something had been discovered. Curiosity stirred; Lina decided to follow.
“I don’t have anything else to do anyway…”
But once it realized it was being chased, the cat picked up speed. Lina hurried after it, yet couldn’t quite catch up.
By the time she stopped, breathless, she stood on a quiet forest path.
“Where is this…?”
As she walked along, a chill prickled her skin. She raised her head. Beyond an iron fence loomed eerie burial mounds and beautiful statues scattered among them, all steeped in desolation, as though long forgotten.
Following the fence brought her to a gate.
“Imperial Memorial Cemetery…?”
On the pillars flanking the entrance, gargoyles with grotesque expressions glared down.
Beneath their gaze, below the cemetery sign, a notice had been posted.
[Hiring Gravekeeper: Few visitors except for funerals. Must be stout-hearted. Weekly wage: 52 gold.]
“Fine. First, I’ll earn some money. I don’t know if I’m brave, but I don’t believe in specters anyway, so what’s it matter?”
Oddly, the memory loss didn’t worry her that much. Surviving the present felt more urgent.
“Apply for gravekeeper?”
At the office, a young man greeted her. From his high-handed manner, Lina guessed he was the cemetery foreman.
“Hmph. Think gravekeeping looks that easy?”
“Pardon? No, I—”
“You really think you can do it? You’ll probably burst into tears and run off.”
“That won’t happen. I—”
“Too scared of specters to leave the guard post, I’ll wager.”
“Not at all.”
“You’ll just make the place gloomier for nothing.”
He kept cutting her off, refusing to hear her out and insisting she couldn’t do it.
Maybe I should find another job…
Just then, an elderly man with white hair entered. The cocky young man sprang to his feet.
“Manager.”
So this was the one in charge.
“Oh—Lina, is it? Good, good, you came.”
“Hello.”
“We were worried—no applicants because of that ridiculous ghost rumor. You’re a godsend.”
“Ghosts…?”
“No, no—nonsense, I tell you! There’s no such thing as specters.”
“R-right? Haha.”
“In any case, you and Mark can split day and night shifts between you.”
Lina finally exhaled in relief. She shot a glance at Mark, then asked the manager,
“…Mr. Mark, you’ve been here a long time, have you?”
“No, Mark here is all of one week in.”
Lina stared at Mark in disbelief. A mere week and already throwing his weight around?
Regardless, he played the senior to the end and foisted all the night duty on her.
“Right! I’m off. Lock up tight.”
“H-hey! Wait!”
For some reason he seemed in a great hurry, babbling and then scurrying toward the gate—tail between his legs, practically fleeing.
“…What’s that about?”
Night fell, and starlight glittered. Somewhere in the forest, an eerie bird cried.
“Whew. Guard post is clean—time for a little rest.”
It was April, the air pleasantly cool. Lina pulled a cloak from the post, sat on a bench, and put on its hood. It was as snug as a blanket. Tired from the long day, she soon began to nod off.
When she sank fully into sleep, a pale mist unfurled from somewhere. A chill wind hissed through the grounds.
Clop, clop.
The hooves beneath a knight’s statue began to move—or rather, specter-knights stepped out of the stone itself.
Mounted on ghostly horses, they rose lightly into the air—and spotted an intruder.
“Whistle! A new gravekeeper!”
The specter-knights cheered, whistling. Their phantom steeds whinnied enthusiastically, joining the racket.
“Wake up, kid! Come play with us!”
“The one who started last week pissed himself on the first night! Hahahaha!”
“Sure did. That Mark whelp hid in the guard shack all week—no fun at all!”
They whooped and swooped around Lina. Their clamor roused other specters from the mounds.
“Sir knights, keep it down! Some of us are trying to sleep!”
“Oh dear, Countess. Time to rise. Beauty won’t improve by sleeping late, will it? Hahaha!”
As the din continued, some ghosts appealed to their commander.
“Sir Reinhardt, please tell them to hush. We were just getting back to sleep when they started.”
“He’s right! If you scare off every gravekeeper, who’s left to watch the grounds while we rest?”
Grumbling came in waves, as if they’d been waiting for the chance.
“Enough already. If the mounds get damaged, it’s not like you repair them!”
“He’s got a point. Pranks on the living should have limits!”
“Sir Reinhardt, will you please come out?”
At the name, a beautiful knight rode forward—angelic to behold, clad in silver armor. His long, shining silver curls rippled on the breeze. The dignity and kindness of his life had followed him into death.
“…”
His bloodless gray gaze swept the knights. They flinched and quieted at once.
Reinhardt drew his sword and approached the gravekeeper. Regardless of the racket, the new hire slept like the dead.
“…A young one this time. Can’t see the face under that hood.”
With the tip of his blade, he lifted the edge of her hood—few specters in the cemetery could exert such physical influence on the living.
“Waaah!”
The ghostly knights gasped. The lovely face beneath the hood shone in the moonlight.
“A woman! The gravekeeper’s a woman!”
They tumbled off their mounts and crowded around Lina.
“Wow! First time we’ve had a lady gravekeeper!”
“First time!”
They couldn’t roam by day; they were specters, after all. At night they needed to stretch their legs out of those cramped coffins. But the barrier kept them from leaving the grounds—so their only society was with each other, inside the cemetery.
The barrier was meant to repel monsters. It blocked specters and magic-bearing creatures, but not grave robbers or wild beasts.
Once, with no keeper on duty, a boar came down from the woods and rooted up a burial mound. Afterward they all had to endure complaints from the owner—whose grave had been spoiled.
“Boohoo… A boar left my plot in ruins…”
Not long ago, a grave robber had jostled the head of Grand Duke Sebastian, who lay interred with treasures. They were specters and hard to frighten, yes—but watching headless Sebastian shuffle about, cradling his gloomy head under one arm, was hardly pleasant.
Once, while playing ball, someone had kicked his head instead of the ball.
“I’m not a ball—I’m a head!”
Sebastian’s head shrieked as it sailed perfectly between a pair of statues they’d been using as a goal. Even now the memory left them all a little traumatized.
So they understood the need for a gravekeeper—and they did try to keep a low profile. Still, sometimes they were seen by accident.
“Eek! G-g-ghosts!”
Each time, the keeper fainted or fled in panic and promptly quit.
And some of the more mischievous knights, if they disliked a new hire, would scare them off on purpose. Hence the frequent vacancy of the post of late.
“Strange, though—how does she sleep through all this?”
“Just spending a night alone out here… that’s something.”
“Right—nerves of steel.”
Most people, whether they see specters or not, can’t stand their aura and the bone-deep chill. Sleeping peacefully among ghosts hinted at a strong resistance to such things.
“A new keeper is good news… but with those refined features she looks like a noble. Why take on such harsh work?”
They were as pleased as they were intrigued, and turned to see what their captain would do.
“Er… Captain? What are you doing?”
Reinhardt was staring at his sword with a meaningful look. Ominously, a red light pulsed along the blade.
“Gasp—Captain!”
“Calibur’s glowing red!”
The long-haired knight’s ashen eyes fixed on the keeper again.
“Of all times…”
This gravekeeper, he realized, would soon die.
To be continued.
