In front of the grand Cathedral, Ignis stood on the cobblestone sidewalk, engaged in quiet conversation with a cloaked figure. The cathedral's tall spires loomed overhead, casting long, jagged shadows that stretched across the street as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky.
A short distance away, the sound of hooves and carriage wheels echoed faintly as Fort stepped down, having just paid the driver. His boots hit the ground with a dull thud. Straightening his coat, he walked briskly toward Ignis, who turned at the sound of his approach.
"Fortis! How's the training coming along?" Ignis greeted him with a faint smile, his tone carrying an unusual warmth.
"Not too bad," Fort replied casually, though his focus shifted to the cloaked figure Ignis had been speaking with. The figure's posture was tense, their movements deliberate but cautious, as though weighing the risks of remaining for too long. Fort's sharp eyes took in every detail.
Before Fort could ask anything, the figure's voice broke through the tension. "I should go…" Their words were clipped, almost rushed, as they turned and strode away without a backward glance.
Fort watched the figure disappear into the crowd before turning back to Ignis. "What was that about?"
Ignis's expression shifted, his usual composure tinged with gravity. "Tell me, Fort—have you heard about the fall of Azzel?"
Fort frowned, his mind searching for any recognition of the name but coming up empty. "No," he admitted, shaking his head.
Ignis exhaled slowly, as though preparing to recount a tale he had told too many times before. "Azzel… He was a royal prince, once destined for greatness. But ten years ago, he fell in love with someone—an ordinary woman, a commoner."
Fort raised an eyebrow. "That's not uncommon. A royal scandal, I take it?"
Ignis nodded, his voice lowering. "It was more than that. His family disapproved, as you might expect. He was stripped of his titles and banished to the north of Misthaven. He lived there with her, in an old mansion, far from the public eye. "
"Wait… I thought the area beyond the North Gate was nothing but ruins, forbidden for anyone to live in?" Fort asked, his voice tinged with confusion.
Hearing the question, Ignis allowed a faint smile to play on his lips, his expression betraying a hint of amusement. "haha, Old man Alaric didn't tell you the full story, did he?" he said with a soft chuckle.
Fort's frown deepened as his thoughts grew increasingly muddled. (Did Mr. Alaric lie…?) he wondered, his mind racing to piece together the contradiction.
Noticing Fort's expression, Ignis adjusted his coat and straightened his hat, taking his time before continuing. "To be fair, what Mr. Alaric said wasn't entirely wrong," Ignis began, his tone steady. "But he failed to mention something important: the North Gate isn't just one gate—it's two."
"Two…?" Fort repeated, narrowing his eyes as he directed his gaze out the window. The carriage creaked slightly as it rolled along the fog-shrouded street, the dim glow of the lamps barely cutting through the oppressive gloom.
"Yes, two," Ignis confirmed, leaning back in his seat. "There's the inner gate, the one that leads into the city itself. But beyond that, further north, there's the outer gate. That one leads to the ruins and the mountain range."
Fort's brow furrowed further as he absorbed the explanation, his mind conjuring the image of two gates standing sentinel in the northern expanse. Slowly, he nodded, though his confusion lingered.
Seeing this, Ignis smirked faintly. "To put it simply, beyond the inner North Gate lies more than just ruins. There's a stretch of forest—sparse, but livable. A handful of people still make their homes there, But most of them were individuals who had been banished."
"A forest…" Fort murmured, his voice trailing off. The thought of anyone choosing to live so close to forbidden ruins struck him as both peculiar and unsettling.
"Exactly," Ignis said with a slight nod. "It's not the dense, untamed wilderness you'd find further out, but it's remote enough to attract a certain… type of person." His gaze shifted back to the window, his expression thoughtful as he watched the desolate street glide past.
"Oh..," Fort replied simply, nodding as he tried to make sense of the new information.
After a brief silence, Fort finally broke the stillness with a question."So.. what happened to him?" Fort's curiosity deepened
Ignis's gaze darkened as he spoke. "He killed himself."
Fort stiffened at the abruptness of the statement. He lowered his head for a moment, processing the weight of Ignis's words, before meeting his friend's gaze again.
"They found him in his office," Ignis continued, his voice quieter now. "Burned alive. But here's the strange part—there was nothing in the room that could have started the fire. No lamp overturned, no evidence of fuel. And yet, his body… it was completely consumed by flames."
Fort's brow furrowed deeply. "You're saying it couldn't have been an accident?"
Ignis nodded. "Exactly. But that's not all. On the same night, someone else was found dead near the South Gate—another burned body. This one was in an alley, so badly charred they couldn't even identify who it was."
Fort's voice was steady but filled with unease. "Do you think there's a connection?"
Ignis hesitated, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. "We don't know. The only link between the two is the way they died—both consumed by flames. But the circumstances… they don't make sense."
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the heavy silence punctuated only by the faint toll of the cathedral bells. Finally, Ignis broke the stillness. "Come with me, Fort. I'm investigating this case, and I could use your perspective."
Fort nodded without hesitation. "Where are we going?"
"North," Ignis replied. "To the mansion."
The two climbed into a waiting carriage, the driver giving a sharp crack of the reins as the horses began their steady trot toward the outskirts of the city, for a moment, the two sat in silence, the rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels filling the void. Beyond the window, the fog seemed to thicken, curling around the streetlamps like ghostly tendrils
–––
The carriage rumbled along the uneven roads, passing houses that grew sparser and more dilapidated the farther they traveled. Fort sat opposite Ignis, his arms crossed, his mind spinning with the details he'd just learned.
"Was the office burned?" Fort asked, breaking the silence.
Ignis shook his head, his brow furrowed. "No. That's the strange part. There wasn't a single sign of fire damage anywhere in the room. Not on the floor, not on the walls—nothing. Only his body was burned. Well, his body and.. the paintings."
"Paintings?" Fort repeated, his curiosity piqued.
"Yes. There were three paintings in his office," Ignis explained. "Two of them were burned beyond recognition, but their frames… not a single mark. The third painting was untouched."
"What was in the third painting?" Fort asked.
Ignis hesitated for a moment before answering. "It's a landscape—a cliff by the sea. In the distance, you can see a stone gate rising from the water. Inside the gate are tiny humanoid figures, but they're too small to identify."
Fort leaned back, his mind racing. "Did the family know about the paintings?"
Ignis shook his head. "No. When we questioned them, they claimed there had never been any paintings in his office. They seemed genuinely confused."
Fort rubbed his temple, the puzzle growing stranger with each information.
---
As they pondered the possible connection between the two cases, the carriage came to a halt in front of the North Gate. The faint creak of the wheels gave way to an unsettling silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of the wind.
Ignis and Fort stepped down, their boots crunching against the gravel path, and made their way toward the imposing gate. The faint glow of the lanterns lining the path barely penetrated the surrounding fog, casting flickering shadows that danced in the corners of Fort's vision.
At the guard post, a figure sat slumped in a chair, appearing at first glance to be human. Fort squinted, his brow furrowing. Something about the stillness of the figure felt wrong.
As they drew closer, Fort's steps faltered, his instincts screaming that something was amiss. The "figure" was no person—it was a doll.
The doll was eerily lifelike, shaped like a woman with porcelain skin that gleamed unnaturally in the dim light. It wore a pristine white gown, the fabric seemingly untouched by the dust and decay around it. Long, dark hair framed its face, its lifeless glass eyes staring straight ahead, unblinking. The doll's pose was unnervingly poised, as if it had been deliberately placed there to mimic the casual posture of a human guard.
A chill ran down Fort's spine as he whispered, "What is this…?"
Ignis, however, seemed unfazed. He approached the doll with measured steps, tilting his head slightly as if appraising it. "She's a Gatekeeper," Ignis said calmly, his voice low but steady.
"A… Gatekeeper?" Fort repeated, his confusion evident.
Ignis nodded, tapping the brim of his hat. "Not all gates are guarded by people. Some require… other measures."
As Ignis spoke, the doll's head tilted ever so slightly, its glassy eyes now fixed on him. Without a sound, the massive steel gate behind it began to groan and shift. Fort's breath caught in his throat as the colossal structure moved of its own accord.
The sound of grinding metal filled the air as the gate slowly opened, revealing the fog-drenched path beyond. Fort glanced back at the doll, only to find it raising one hand in a slow, deliberate wave.
He took an involuntary step back, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. "That gate must weigh at least five tons… or more" he muttered under his breath.
Ignis turned his head slightly, smirking. "High-ranked Pioneers aren't the only ones with power," he remarked cryptically before stepping through the now-open gate.
Fort hesitated for a moment, casting one last glance at the doll, which had returned to its original, lifeless posture. As he stepped past the threshold, a low, almost imperceptible whisper brushed against his ear.
"Beware."
Fort's head snapped around, searching for the source of the voice. But there was no one there. Only the fog, and the doll's unchanging, silent figure. The gate creaked shut behind him, sealing them in.
Fort quickened his pace, hurrying to catch up with Ignis, who had already moved far ahead, his figure almost swallowed by the encroaching darkness.
After walking through the desolate streets lined with ruined houses and crumbling posts, they finally arrived at Azzel's mansion.
The structure loomed before them, its once grand facade now weathered and overgrown with creeping vines. The heavy air seemed to press down on them as they approached the imposing double doors.
Ignis rapped firmly on the wooden doors, the sound echoing faintly through the eerily silent surroundings. They waited, but no answer came. Fort's eyes drifted to the windows, where the faint flicker of a shadow moving within caught his attention.
"There's someone inside," Fort muttered, narrowing his eyes.
Ignis followed his gaze, his expression darkening. The two exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them.
Fort stepped forward, ready to force the door open, his hand already moving toward the hilt of his weapon. But before he could act, Ignis stopped him with a raised hand. "Wait," Ignis said calmly. He grasped the door handle and turned it slowly.
Krak! The door creaked open, unlocked.
The two men stepped cautiously into the mansion, their eyes scanning the dimly lit interior. Dust hung thick in the air, disturbed only by their presence. The once luxurious furniture was shrouded in cobwebs, and the faint smell of decay lingered in the atmosphere.
The silence was oppressive, the kind that seemed to amplify every creak of the floorboards beneath their boots. No signs of life.
"What happened?" Fort asked, his voice laced with confusion.
Ignis shook his head, disbelief etched across his face. "How is this possible? They were here just this morning," he murmured, rubbing his temples as if trying to make sense of the situation.
Fort scanned the interior of the mansion. There was no sign of anyone having moved out—every piece of furniture remained in place, undisturbed, as if frozen in time. Yet, the silence and stillness felt unnatural, almost suffocating.
His gaze shifted upward, drawn to the second floor. One of the doors stood ajar, its dark interior barely visible. Something about it felt out of place. Fort pointed it out to Ignis. "Ignis, is that… his office?"
Ignis followed Fort's line of sight, his sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on the partially open door. A frown crossed his face. "You're right," he said, his tone low and cautious.
Without wasting another moment, the two began their ascent up the staircase, each step creaking beneath their weight. The air grew colder as they approached the second floor, the faint scent of burnt wood lingering faintly in the air.
The unlocked door loomed before them, its presence foreboding. Ignis reached for the handle, glancing at Fort briefly as if to confirm they were ready. Then, with a steady hand, he pushed it open, revealing the room beyond.
The door creaked open, the sound of its hinges echoing through the quiet house. Fort stepped inside first, his boots disturbing the dust that had settled over the abandoned mansion. The air was stale, heavy with the scent of mildew and decay, as if the room had been untouched for years.
He lowered his weapon and surveyed the surroundings. The room was unnervingly still, the silence broken only by the faint rustle of Ignis flipping through the paperwork on the desk. Fort's eyes shifted to the walls, where two paintings hung, their surfaces marred by the unmistakable signs of fire.
(The first painting was completely charred, reduced to a mass of blackened ash. Yet, the frame remained untouched, its fine woodwork almost eerily pristine amidst the destruction.)
Fort's gaze lingered on it, his mind whirring. No fire could burn like this, not without leaving a mark on everything it touched.
He moved to the second painting. It, too, was ravaged by the flames, the image barely recognizable beneath the damage. But just like the first, its frame was unscathed.
Then, his eyes fell upon the third painting.
It was unlike the others. Where the previous two had been reduced to smoldering remnants, this one remained untouched. The image depicted a cliffside, its jagged edges bathed in the cold light of a moonlit sea. At the center of the painting stood a stone gate, ancient and foreboding, with a faint humanoid figure standing just beyond it.
Turning his gaze toward Azzel's work desk, Fort's eyes narrowed as they landed on a jagged, spiraling design carved into the wood. The symbol twisted endlessly, its form devouring itself in an infinite loop, as though rejecting the very idea of meaning. At its center sat a half-closed eye, surrounded by fractured lines that spread like cracks across glass.
What is this? Fort thought, his brows furrowing.
Without hesitation, he retrieved a piece of paper from his coat—a sheet he carried during training, though he had never truly used it for notes. With steady hands, he began sketching the sigil, each line etched with deliberate care.
As he finished, his eyes caught another engraving further down the desk, barely visible beneath a layer of ash. This one was different—a circular design. A tilted crescent moon cradled an open eye at its center, the iris shimmering with faint star-like patterns, and the pupil spiraling inward. Beneath the moon, a winding staircase seemed to descend endlessly into an abyss. Along the edges of the symbol, faint, distorted faces—smiling, crying, and fearful—peeked from the shadows of the design.
Fort rose from his crouched position, holding up the sketch he had hastily made. "I found this on the desk," he said, his voice steady but laden with the weight of the discovery. "There's another symbol as well—jagged, spiraling, almost as if it's devouring itself. Both are... Weird. I've never seen anything like them before."
Ignis stepped closer, his sharp gaze scanning the drawing. He traced the edge of the paper with his gloved fingers, his frown deepening as he took in the intricate details. After a long, pensive silence, he gave a slight nod.
"I'll bring this to the Cathedral," Ignis said, his voice carrying a firm resolve. "They may have records or scholars who can decipher their meaning"
Fort said nothing, his eyes scanning the room one last time, as though hoping the answer might reveal itself if he looked hard enough. But the oppressive stillness offered no further clues.
As they stepped out of the Azzel Mansion, Fort paused briefly at the threshold. His gaze swept over the surroundings—the twisted iron gates, the withered trees that bordered the property, the faint mist clinging to the ground.
Without a word, Fort adjusted his coat and walked away, Ignis falling into step beside him, their silence heavy with the weight of unanswered questions.
...
Outside the North Gate
As they passed through the North Gate, Fort's eyes instinctively scanned the guard post. His steps faltered, his gaze narrowing as he realized something was missing. The doll, ever-present and unnervingly still, was no longer there.
Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed Ignis's shoulder, his voice low but tense. "Mrs. High-ranked is gone."
Ignis turned toward the post, his sharp eyes assessing the absence before speaking in his usual calm, measured tone. "She hasn't disappeared," he said, his words tinged with something almost cryptic. "She's simply not visible to your eyes."
Fort's expression darkened, but he didn't argue. He let go of Ignis and followed him toward the nearby carriage stop.
While they waited, the conversation shifted back to the Azzel case, their voices hushed but filled with quiet intensity. Every word exchanged carried the weight of something they couldn't yet name a single soul.
As if by fate, two carriages appeared on the cobbled street.
Fort's gaze shifted to the clock tower at the far end—21:40. The late hour struck him, and with a sense of urgency, he stepped into one of the waiting carriages.
He gave a brief nod to Ignis, who was already boarding his own. The two of them would soon part ways—Ignis to the cathedral, Fort to the quiet solitude of his home.