shiloh solair
There were three things I knew, and three things only, when I woke up on top of an unmarked grave with a shovel in my hand. Let’s start with the most basic and work our way to the more obscure. My name was Shiloh Solair, and I was the keeper of the Hollow Graveyard.
Basic enough, right? The third thing I knew is where things get a little more dicey. Or should I say the third thing that Ididn’t know.Regardless, my head pounded and sweat slicked against the wood of a large shovel in my hand. A cold, unmarked grave pressed against my back. Damp dirt and grass stained my ass as my temples throbbed. A ghost floated by like an eerie balloon. I had no idea how I got there, propped up on a grave, why I was there, or where the shovel had come from. I had no memory of digging this grave and had no idea who this headstone belonged to or would soon belong to. It was the middle of the night with a full moon, the time I typically like to avoid this graveyard and be done with my tasks. Now don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t afraid, as nothing in this life or any afterlife could scare me.
I mean, I was a graveyard keeper in Hollows Grove, one of the shadiest, spookiest, creepiest places in the realms, and thankfully, my dealings weren’t in town with the living. I kept to myself amongst the dead, though the dead had their own way of causing trouble every now and then… Regardless, they were easier to manage than the folks on the topsoil, if you know what I mean. Stretching my shoulders and triceps, I was thankful to be in good shape, my body limber and muscular. I was as strong, if not stronger, than any man in town, and it always gave me a very particular sort of satisfaction proving as such and letting them be surprised by a woman who could kick their ass and haul their heavy shit. Even so, my back ached, my head pounded, and my butt hurt. How long had I been lying here, and what had happened to make me so physically sore? My muscles were screaming for a hot bath or some sort of relief. Also, where the hell did my memory go? Try as I might, I couldn’t recall how I came to be asleep atop a grave, feeling like absolute shit. I looked around, hoping to spot a familiar ghost who could give me a clue as to what happened, but just like with every surly sort of character, ghosts were never around when you wanted them to be.
A melodious woman’s voice reached my ears on a hollow October breeze. My heart fluttered at the sound. How could a voice sound so beautiful? I listened intently as she chanted… something something love something something.Exploring further, my feet killing me as I did so, I spotted a figure kneeling by a grave. The woman was dressed all in white in a head-to-toe long, snow-white gown. Though, the theme of ivory didn’t end there. Long, snowy hair knotted to the top of her head, white gloves, a white parasol perched on the ground next to her. Like an apparition in the night, she glowed under the moon, gripping grave dirt, chanting. If she were a ghost, she must’ve been new.If she were a human, she must’ve been new to town, because there was no way in either scenario, living or dead, I would not have remembered this absolute vision of a woman, despite my memory failing in that moment.
“Bring back the love of my life, bring back my love. Right the wrongs,” the woman in white chanted. Crunchy leaves cracked and rustled as I approached. Her shoulders tensed. Squinting her eyes closed, she let out a belabored breath before shocking me with her piercing gaze. “You have curly hair,” she said plainly. “And you’re very dirty,” she added, giving my dirty beige shirt, brown suspenders, and slacks covered in mud a once over with a disapproving glance. Embarrassment stained my cheeks.
“Well, hello to you, too. Are you a mortal, or a ghost, or maybe a spirit of some sort?” I asked.
“No,” she replied with a sigh. “Unfortunately, I am none of those things.” She dusted at nothing, invisible dirt maybe, at her knees. The woman’s white shoes and white gown were still pristine, though her perfect mouth turned downward as she regarded me again. “I suppose you need a place to stay.”
“What? No, I have a home.” The back of my neck ached, and I rubbed it, trying to sort through my mind to find any sort of recollection of what I should do next, where I should go, but my memories all failed me. “I just… can’t seem to remember where that home is at the moment.”
“Right,” the woman in white replied with a disinterested tone. “Well, come on then, follow me.”
Listen, I’m not usually someone who would just follow along after a random stranger when they ask me to. I work in a graveyard. I’ve seen some weird shit. I’ve met some weirdpeople, some of them not exactly human. How smart would I be if I just followed after every monster, or stray spirit, or weirdo who sneaks into the graveyard at night, anytime they said come here? However, when a gorgeous girl with long moonlit hair and a pearlescent corset sayscome hither… Well, I follow along like a little puppy dog.
Woof, woof.
Maybe I had a weakness for beautiful women, or maybe it was just her. As curious as I was, I was also a gentlewoman, and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t imposing—failing brain and memory or not. “I don’t need you to take me home with you. I’m sure I can manage on my own,” I protested.
“Oh, can you?” she asked. “What’s your name?”
“Shiloh Solair, what’s yours?”
“Lunette Selene.” She arched a pale eyebrow. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-seven. And you?”
“Do you like cats?”
“Not particularly. At least, I don’t think I like cats. I really can’t remember very much right now.” I rubbed my head.
“Hmm…” She hummed. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter. It’s not like you’ll be around for long anyway. Come along now, follow me. I really don’t want to get my dress dirty.” She hung her head, and the solemn look returned to her delicate features. Usually, I wouldn’t pry, but how could I not be intrigued by a beautiful woman dressed all in white in the middle of a cemetery in the dead of night? The picture of mystery and beauty glided down the path before me.
Clearing my throat, I asked. “So… do you come here often?”
If I could remember my mother, she probably would have said I was a glutton for punishment as a child. The graveyard was huge. Thousands of graves, winding pathways, trees, and statues loomed around us as we worked our way through the hollow maze.
Lunette Selene almost quirked a smile at my kind-of-cute pickup line. “I do, actually. I come each and every evening.”
“Why have I never seen you before?”
“Would you remember if you had?”
“Yes,” I replied with confidence. “Who… do you come here to see?”
Lunette made to step over a knotted tree root, and I instinctually reached for her hand, helping her balance beneath her layers upon layers of silky gown. “My fiancé,” she answered softly. “He passed three months ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Mostly, I was a guilty mix of relieved that she was single and disappointed that she might be into men and not women. That’s a hell of a fucked up reaction to someone telling you their fiancé died, but it was true, and I never claimed to be a virtuous person. At least from what I remembered, I probably wasn’t. This whole memory loss thing was annoying.
Wordlessly, I trailed behind her, and we exited the squeaky gate, making our way down a grassy trail until we finally wove through Hollows Grove. The town was quiet at this hour, with only a few neon signs lit and bar goers sauntering in and out of our only acceptable late-night bar. We made it to an old, two-story Victorian-style house on the edge of town. The placewas surrounded by moss and tall trees. Perfectly unkempt. I wondered what it looked like in the daylight.
Lunette opened her massive door and ushered me in with a weary sigh. “Make yourself at home. The guest room is at the top of the stairs, second door on the right.” She lit a candle, illuminating her dainty features in the dim orange light. “If I don’t see you in the morning, it was lovely meeting you, Shiloh. You’re welcome here any time you need a place to stay. The magic knows you now, so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding your way back.”
