A Grave, a Tear, and an Immortal Body
Perhaps this was simply the fate of mortals.
Birth.
Life.
Death.
Reincarnation.
Leon let out a quiet sigh.
At least the old Hermit could finally rest in peace.
He picked up a handful of earth and let it fall over the grave. Then another. Slowly, he covered the old man's body until nothing remained visible beneath the fresh soil.
The wind swept across the hill, carrying away the silence that followed.
Shasa stood nearby.
She hadn't said a word for a long time. Her eyes remained fixed on the small mound of earth before her, as if she were waiting for something.
Perhaps she was waiting for the old Hermit to sit up and complain.
Perhaps she expected him to grumble about the cold, brush the dirt from his clothes, and tell her that she was making a fuss over nothing.
But nothing happened.
The wind continued to blow.
The grass swayed gently.
And the grave remained silent.
Something inside Shasa was beginning to change.
