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The Ghost

Far in the boundary of the unknown is a place known as a desert of ashes. In all directions, wherever you would look, there are gray dunes with hollowed triangles buried in them. These triangles come in various sizes and symbolize the graves of titans. The larger the triangle, the more impressive was the size of the deceased titan.

The ghost was the last being who remembered the times when titans walked this place. When the ghost was still alive, it used to clean and unbury the graves. The ghost liked what it was doing, it was important to keep the sacred place of burial tidy.

Unfortunately, after the ghost died, he fell asleep for a very long time and nobody would tend to graves. The stones would wither with time and get buried under the sand. When the ghost awoke, it wanted to help to restore the place, but it quickly realized that its hands would go through anything it wanted to touch.

This news made the ghost very sad and he wandered for a very long time, trying to find a way to find a new body, but no matter how far he would go, the place was still an endless desert.

The ghost was very sad about its inability. There was not a moment when his thoughts wouldn't wander off to a very dark place, to the point where every minute of negative emotion would cause spots of black to appear on its white body, until it all turned black.

As the ghost knelt deep into the despair, a large shadow hovered over it. From the sand, emerged a colossal black hand.

The ghost, now fully black, turned to the hand and thought. - I will pray to anything If it can help me.

The black hand knew the ghost's desires and submerged under the sand, disappearing.

A month passed and the ghost remained as it was. It was unmoving, unresponsive, and abandoned all hope.

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But the black hand returned and the ghost opened its eyes again, only to spot that hand gave him a gift. It was a body that the ghost could possess.

The ghost stared, unable to comprehend the situation. The body of the creature was unlike anything ghost had seen before. The ghost wasn't scared, but it immediately felt sad.

The ghost needed a body, but he didn't want to desecrate the body of a dead person. It was to be put to the rest, in a grave.

But the ghost couldn't even do that right now.

He had to choose, let the body and graves rot in front of him, or take the body and return to his duties.

The ghost realized that the hand wasn't an ally. It was a great evil. An evil that the ghost made by itself, by its own dark thoughts.

"I'm sorry." - Two astral tears fell down the ground. - "I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me."

The ghost cried for very long, until an oasis formed from his tears and flowers bloomed all around it and the withering body.

"Hello." - Someone spoke to the ghost, but the ghost was too occupied by the despair to overhear it.

"Hello. You suffered for long enough. I'm here to help you." - That someone spoke again, and approached the ghost, smiling.

The ghost lifted its head and noticed a monster, then turned away. - "Go away, monster. I want nothing to do with you."

"I understand." - The monster turned sad. - "But it's my duty to be here. What If I told you, I can save that person for you?"

The ghost turned its eyes at the monsters, no words came out, but he desired it with all his heart.

"I will return it back to life... but remember, that person will not able to see you and you will not be able to hear that person. That's how it needs to be."

The ghost nodded and a golden rainbow appeared over the black hand. The black hand crumbled and turned to dust, then a wind came and carried the dust to the body, repairing it.

The body breathed.

The ghost wanted to thank the monster, but the monster was long gone.