The sky stretched above like a grim painting, layers of dark clouds smothering any hope of sunlight. The air was heavy, carrying a chill that crept into the bones, as though whispering the presence of unseen watchers.
On either side of the road, skeletal trees stood barren, their twisted forms reaching upward like they sought salvation. The ground was cracked and muddy, reluctant to welcome more footsteps.
Marlin and Ryan trudged along the path in silence. Ahead of them, a towering wall emerged from the fog, its ancient stones blackened and etched with faint, intricate carvings that hinted at forgotten ages. The gates, massive and iron-wrought, loomed ominously, standing as both a protector and a silent judge.
Crossing the gates, an entirely new world unfolded before Marlin's eyes. The streets stretched wide and meticulously paved with dark, polished stones that reflected the faint glow of gas lamps. Tall buildings flanked the roads, their facades alive with ornate details: wrought iron balconies, arched windows with frosted glass, and doors framed by intricate carvings.
Horse-drawn carriages moved steadily along the roads, the rhythm of their wheels creating a steady hum. The people walking the streets wore tailored coats, long dresses, and hats adorned with subtle embellishments. Despite the liveliness, there was an air of order and restraint in the city, as though it held its breath, observing itself.
Marlin paused, taking in the scene. He couldn't help but feel a flicker of awe. For the first time since the tragedy, he allowed himself to feel something other than despair. Yet, the sense of alienation remained—a constant reminder that he was far from the world he once knew.
Ryan led Marlin through a series of narrow alleys until they reached a stately home that seemed to dominate the street with its presence. The house was a three-story structure of dark gray stone, its front adorned with elegant columns rising from the ground to the roof. High windows reflected the glow of the streetlights, and a pair of heavy wooden doors stood at the entrance, crowned with a delicately carved arch.
Jeth greeted them at the door. He was an older man, his face weathered with deep lines that spoke of burdens carried over the years. His sharp eyes scanned them briefly before he spoke in a calm, measured tone:
"Welcome. It seems the road has not been kind to you. Please, come in."
Jeth gestured to one of the maids, a young woman in a plain but immaculate uniform. She approached Marlin with a soft voice:
"Follow me, please."
She led him to a spacious bathroom, its walls tiled in white with gold-accented patterns. A large mirror dominated one side, reflecting the warm light of wall-mounted sconces. At the center was a deep bathtub, already filled with steaming water, its surface rippling faintly as if inviting him to step in.
Marlin stood before the mirror, studying his reflection. His clothes were torn and filthy, stained with dried blood and dirt. His face was pale, his eyes hollowed by exhaustion. Slowly, he undressed and sank into the water, the warmth enveloping him like a protective cocoon.
As the grime washed away, his thoughts began to drift. Flashes of the burning village, the lifeless faces, and his own narrow escape filled his mind. It all felt unreal, like a recurring nightmare. His chest tightened as he whispered to himself:
"Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and find myself back in my world. This... this has to be a nightmare."
After cleaning himself up, Marlin joined Ryan and Jeth in a grand dining room. The long wooden table was set with a feast: steaming bowls of soup, roasted meats, fresh vegetables, and an assortment of bread and pastries. The room was lit by a chandelier that cast a golden glow, its crystals reflecting light onto the richly decorated walls.
Marlin sat at the table, but his appetite was absent. He stared at the food, his mind wandering back to the horrors he had witnessed. Forcing himself to take a bite, he quickly realized he couldn't taste anything. The meal felt like an empty ritual, devoid of meaning in the shadow of his trauma.
Far from the quiet of the house, the vast halls of a cathedral echoed with the faint sound of footsteps. The space was enormous, its vaulted ceiling supported by towering columns adorned with grotesque carvings. Candles flickered weakly, their light barely piercing the suffocating darkness.
In the center of the hall, Cardinal Tuberus knelt before a figure cloaked in shadow. The man's robes were midnight black, stitched with threads of silver that shimmered faintly. His face was obscured, save for his eyes—piercing orbs of violet that seemed to see through every deception. His voice, calm yet commanding, filled the chamber:
"Report."
Tuberus bowed lower, his voice quivering slightly:
"Your Grace, Bishop Kassiel... the mission is complete. The leader's followers have been eradicated, not a single one remains."
Kassiel was silent, the weight of his presence growing heavier. Then, with a sharp edge to his tone, he asked:
"Why the delay? You could have acted sooner and spared the damage."
Tuberus felt his breath catch, his entire body paralyzed with fear. The cold, unyielding gaze of the bishop was enough to strip him of any remaining confidence. In a trembling voice, he replied:
"Your Grace... I delayed to ensure all of the followers were gathered. Acting prematurely would have caused greater chaos."
Kassiel remained quiet, his silence more terrifying than his words. Tuberus felt his heart race, knowing that any mistake, no matter how small, could spell his doom. Finally, Kassiel spoke:
"Leave. You will be punished, but your sentence will be decided later."
Relief flooded Tuberus as he bowed deeply and hurried out of the hall, grateful to have escaped the bishop's wrath—for now.
Later that evening, Marlin sat by a window in the guest room, staring out at the dimly lit street. The city seemed quieter now, as if it too had fallen into uneasy sleep.
Ryan entered the room, his expression serious yet calm. He stood beside Marlin and said:
"Marlin, it's time we talked. There are things you need to know."
Marlin turned to face him, his eyes filled with unspoken questions. He didn't know if he was ready for the answers, but he knew they were unavoidable.