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A long, droning note of sorrow passes through the forest of Niwen as yet another spirit is found without life. Another spirit, lost to the invading decay and darkness that slowly strangled the shattered light’s forest. Another spirit, needing the attention of the gravekeeper Shi.
The farther he walked from the now-dead Spirit Willow, the more complex his song became. Slowly turning the crank back and forth, the oblong box he always carried signaled to the remaining guardians what became of their friend, their family. Amidst all the death and depression, no one could remember the last time his skill had shown anything but mourning. The deceased spirit was rarely found in good shape, but those who survived knew to leave Shi to his business with the body. He would follow his duty assigned by the Mother Willow with or without help, only asking that those passed would get the respect they needed to rest properly.
His steps were slow and methodical, seemingly gliding without any troubles despite his blindness. Scouting spirits hardly had to follow him anymore, but they fell into line quietly, one by one. The echoing caves leading to the Midnight Burrows brought deep reverberations of Shi’s playing back to the traveling party, leading him down into the dark and damp step by step. Even without his sight, he was able to find footholds hidden by thorns and roots, scaling down cliffs with footholds barely big enough to support his hooves. Both his ears and antennae twitched whenever a threat would approach, and Shi would turn to where his spiked nerves pointed him. The procession of the dead was bound to attract decaying doom, but the spirits already following knew this routine well enough to stay as sharp as their weapons.
Shi’s antennae picked up the lost spirit before any of the others could, and paused both song and motion. His instrument went behind his back, relying solely on his connection to guide him, until he found the mangled spirit. Before letting anyone else come over, he draped his cloak over the body, trying to preserve some decency and maintain respect for the dead. He knelt over the covered corpse, and started his music again to call his kin over. The golden light of the Willow had long passed by now, but each spirit had to be respected in their death. The procession formed a small pyramid on the ground, all kneeling in a somber silence as Shi let his heart and soul soothe the unrest buried in the earth below. Another low, droning note carried his song from start to end, telling the story of the spirit’s life through his music, brightening their achievements and softening their regrets. The last echo of his instrument’s chords echoed away into the darkness, and he stood.
“Be at rest now, warrior. You’ve done your best, traveler. This is the end of your test, friend and brother. Be at rest now, warrior.”
He pricked one of his fingers, letting a drop of bluish-white blood drop onto the spirit’s head, and sat once more to wait and guard the lifeless body. The others recognized the end of the ceremony, and went their separate ways with gritted teeth, damp eyes, and quiet souls. Various meager but necessary offerings were left at the entrance to the hiding spot of the passed spirit, meant to welcome the ghost peacefully. One spirit named Kela stayed behind, kneeling next to Shi and watching him out of the corner of her eye. They spent many minutes in silence, only accompanied by the drips and wind whirls of the Burrows, before Kela spoke without moving.
“Shi… Why are you blindfolded? What happened to your eyes?”
He paused, taking a slow breath in and out, his spiritual glow flickering and becoming only slightly faint before he answered.
“You’ve heard that the eyes are the window to one’s soul, yes? Mine are shuttered forever.”
Kela turned and looked into the piece of tattered cloth covering his eyes, and reached forward to grab it as quietly and glacier-like as she could. Before her fingers could touch the blindfold, Shi’s grip of steel held her wrist and firmly sent her back, all without a word. His antennae flicked and his hand let go, the matter settled.
Kela stood up quickly, glanced at the body and Shi’s unmoving body, then muttered a quiet dissatisfaction and left. Shi had no such plans anytime soon, crossing his legs and waiting for the spirit’s ancestral seed to appear. He stood and walked to the entrance, taking an overripe fruit into one hand and placing the other on the spirit’s head. His glow brightened fiercely until a loud crackle of power burst out, echoing far through the Burrows and releasing what light the spirit had left. Only then did Shi eat the fruit, keeping his hand pressed into the passed spirit’s forehead until the food was gone. He sat once more, and waited for the next step.
Hour by hour, the corpse drifted away into fragments of darkening light, until all that was left was the seed and his cloak. A hole was dug, the seed was planted, and Shi stood again for the final rites. He brought over one of the offerings, a small wooden cup with a few swallows of water left in it, and poured it slowly over the turned soil. With the spirit properly laid to rest for a future he wasn’t sure would come, Shi started his journey back to the relative safety of the Willow’s empty trunks, beginning his song once more to finish the true passing of the dead. The echoes led him up and out of the Burrows, devoid of spirit presence except for himself.
The light of the surface held little comfort anymore, but Shi continued walking and playing, pressing his instrument’s keys and slowly turning the handle, sending a simple melody out to cover what land it could. Just as his music flew to as many ears as it could, he flowed across the terrain in silence all the way to the decrepit Spirit Willow. He could sense the tide of decay encroaching on the once purified land, halting his song and walking in true silence. His ears and antennae strained, searching for any friends or foes while he kept walking. All his strain was met with silence, only feeling the wind on his fur and cloak and the setting sun above him.
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The forces of Light were dying, nearly extinguished. Shi reached the peak of the mountain that the long-dead Willow rested on, and stared ahead into the expanding distance he could only see through memories. His duties had been done, but there would always be one spirit he could never properly set to rest. He sighed, turned to face the massive trunk of his silent mother, and put his hand onto it for but a moment. There was nothing he had to say anymore, and nobody to say it to. He stood tall, shook himself awake, and unslung his instrument with a smile on his face. Nobody else would be joining this procession of the dead, so there was no point in moving slow.
Down the mountain he nearly skipped, playing out a fast and excited rhythm using flicks of his fingers and sudden reverses of the crank’s handle. He could feel the Decay digging into the roots of the Willow, and had no time to waste in case of a passing monster. A large drop was scaled with haste, landing on the rickety wooden platform below with a stumble and a sudden silence. His head turned to the left, antennae pricking up at the source of light that he had sent on its way so recently. Kela’s ancestral tree, buried closest to their shared mother.
Shi forced a slow breath in and out, bowing his head to face the ground towards the spirit’s grave.
“...You were one of the brightest and tallest, Kela. May you continue to soar where none of us can.”
He could only allow a short time of respectful silence before dropping further, heading into the silence-plagued woods on a journey that he knew would be his last. The song could not continue here, so he walked with as much quiet speed as he could muster past ponds of scum and tar. The Moki and Kii would be watching here, the whole forest was watched by one or the other. His smile stayed on his face, playing a rhythm in his head to keep his hooves moving and leaping over the deaths not destined for him. Only when he reached the Spirit Well nestled away did he slow to a halt, sensing the dim light that it was giving off even now.
He released the clasp on his cloak, draping it over the curved arch of the Well and stepping back, letting the fatigue finally flow into his body. One more leap, and he leaned against a nearly dead tree, holding his battered instrument out for its final song. The worn and torn cloth that hid his blind eyes was removed and set aside, and Shi laid back as best he could with a quiet sigh.
“The veil wanes. Shi, be at rest now, gravekeeper. You’ve done your best, traveler. This is the end of your test, friend and brother. Be at rest now, gravekeeper. Now sing, Draailier. Sing, Ghironda. Sing, Zanfona!”
For the last time in Niwen, Shi’s handle turned and his keys pressed. For the last time, a child of the Spirit Willow was laid to rest. For the last time, Shi the Gravekeeper played his song of sorrow and recounting.