After many weeks on the road, the caravan finally crossed the border into the Eldoria Kingdom.
The land felt older somehow.
The roads were ancient stone instead of packed dirt. Moss grew between the cracks, and the forests surrounding them seemed quieter, as if the trees themselves remembered things long forgotten.
Tomas stretched his back as the caravan rolled forward.
"Finally."
Mikel nodded.
"About time."
Daren looked around curiously.
"This place feels… different."
Jorin glanced toward Elara beside him.
"Older."
Elara nodded slowly.
"Eldoria is one of the oldest kingdoms on the continent."
Con listened quietly as always.
But he could feel it too.
The air carried strange echoes.
Something about this place stirred something deep inside his chest.
A faint, restless feeling.
They traveled for several more hours before the road changed again.
The forest opened suddenly.
And before them—
Ruins.
An entire ruined city stretched across the land.
Broken stone buildings.
Collapsed towers.
Empty streets swallowed by weeds and vines.
Time had nearly erased it.
One of the caravan guards muttered quietly.
"This must be it."
Elara nodded.
"The old city of Eldoria."
Tomas frowned.
"What happened here?"
Mirelda, who sat in the wagon beside them, spoke gently.
"A very long time ago…"
Her voice softened.
"…something powerful was destroyed here."
Everyone looked toward the ruins as the caravan slowly passed through the broken streets.
The silence of the place felt heavy.
Even the horses walked carefully.
Then—
Daren suddenly stopped.
"Wait."
He pointed ahead.
"…what's that?"
Everyone followed his gaze.
Near a collapsed stone structure, beside what looked like the remains of an old temple wall—
Something stood.
Or rather—
Someone.
A figure crouched quietly beside the ruined stones.
A single torn piece of cloth hung from the broken wall beside him, fluttering slightly in the wind.
But the man himself…
He didn't move.
His form shimmered faintly.
Translucent.
Like light reflected through water.
Long silver hair flowed down his back.
And across his eyes—
A blindfold.
Tomas whispered.
"…is that a ghost?"
No one answered.
The figure remained perfectly still.
Almost like a statue.
Con felt something strange twist inside his chest.
Even without sight—
He could feel the presence.
It felt… familiar.
Very familiar.
Mirelda spoke quietly from the wagon.
"That…"
Everyone turned toward her.
"…is a Grave Keeper."
The group blinked.
"A what?" Daren asked.
Mirelda looked toward the silent figure.
"In the old legends of Eldoria," she explained slowly, "some artifacts were said to love their owners."
Her voice was calm.
But her eyes were sharp.
"If the owner died…"
"…the artifact would shatter."
"And the fragments would remain behind."
"To guard the place where their master fell."
Tomas swallowed.
"So that thing is… an artifact?"
"Or what remains of one."
They all stared again.
The figure crouched beside the ruined stones.
Silent.
Still.
Watching over nothing but broken walls and dust.
Mirelda tilted her head slightly.
"You see that cloth?"
The small torn piece fluttered weakly beside the ruin.
"That marks the grave."
Everyone fell quiet.
Daren rubbed the back of his neck.
"That's… kind of sad."
Elara nodded softly.
"Yes."
Jorin studied the figure carefully.
Then he blinked.
"…wait."
Tomas followed his gaze.
"…hey."
Daren squinted.
"…why does that look like Con?"
Con froze slightly.
Mikel leaned forward.
"…they're right."
Elara covered her mouth in surprise.
The resemblance was uncanny.
The silver hair.
The blindfold.
The tall frame.
Even the posture.
The ethereal figure looked like an older, ghostly version of Con himself.
Even though his body shimmered like mist.
Daren whistled quietly.
"That's creepy."
Tomas nodded.
"Really creepy."
Mirelda suddenly spoke sharply.
"Do not approach it."
Everyone looked back at her.
Her expression had changed.
Serious now.
Almost stern.
"Grave Keepers are not creatures of this realm," she said quietly.
"They belong to the past."
"To the dead."
"Disturbing them invites misfortune."
Her gaze slowly moved across the group.
Then—
It stopped on Con.
"Such things…"
Her voice softened slightly.
"…should be left alone."
"Especially by those who resemble them."
The others simply nodded.
That seemed like reasonable advice.
But Con felt something strange about the way she said it.
The way her eyes lingered on him.
As if the warning—
Was meant only for him.
Only Con noticed.
No one else seemed to realize it.
The caravan moved forward again, leaving the silent ruins behind.
But long after the Grave Keeper disappeared from sight—
Con could still feel that strange echo in his chest.
As if something buried in the past—
Had just looked back at him.