Prologue; THE AFTER

Eun-Soo places the flowers on top of the grave.

Even to this day, six years later, he always makes sure to visit her every Friday, hand cradling flor de magas�"also known as magician’s flower�"before he placed them on top of her headstone.

“Bajo este velo dolesome ella descansa, su cabeza cansada serena, de la vida ocupada, ella está pacífica puesta, no hay tristezas intervienen,” was all it read. No name, no date of birth, no physical proof that she even existed within this area except for the memories Eun-Soo had created with her. She was only a ghost story to most. Sometimes when he would come here, he’d break down crying as a soft breeze picked up his shirt from his back, salty tears kissing his cheeks as Arianys once did, all those years ago. He swore that sometimes he’d feel an arm cradle his waist, a cold cheek pressing against his upper back. 

His anger, which he once held against Arianys, was long gone, replaced by regret and sadness, mind whirling with things he could have done to prevent any of this happening. 

Perhaps this was their punishment.