Art by https://www.deviantart.com/timekept

...

He could see the tormented spirits lingering in the rain, staring at him with agonizing faces as he stood along the soaking beach.

Of course, there was no fear. Not from him. Not like any others might have felt.

It took more than the sight of faceless souls to scare a boy like him.

Speaking of, the faces of the spirits that gazed back at him had such similar expressions to the ones he was so well acquainted with. So many similarities and yet...not the same at all.

Their lack of black and red colors being the farthest difference he could see, the ghosts in the mist clearly had no idea how far they could still suffer. No idea how many more things could be taken away from them. Their names, their lives before death, their friends and loved ones left behind...they had it all, and with this, the boy grew envious.

The boy was no stranger to the horrors of this world. And he was much more familiar with the horrors of his father. Gazing upon a few lost spirits made no difference to him now.

Besides which, it was time to go anyway. He had lingered here long enough as it was, and he had to get moving.

He looked down to his bag, the spirits now no more than after images in his mind, and saw that the front of his mace was sticking out.

He would probably have to switch that later, in order to make it more convenient.