The Path of Secrets

When the scene in Alista's mind changed, he expected the powerful-looking two-headed horse to be locked in an intense fight with another powerful creature of the trial, yet when he peered through the eyes of his prey, he saw something that sent a shiver fleeing down his spine.

The two-headed horse seemed to be caught in the crossfire, darting between flashes of lightning striking the ground around it. Risking the chance to glace around, it - and now Alista - saw the origin of the sudden rain of lightning.

Deep within the fog, a vaguely human-like manifestation of storms floated amidst a seething sea, scowling with its glowing blow eyes that cracked with electricity at the figure across from it. A regal-looking tan male draped in a loose black and gold toga, donning an ornate golden laurel wreath atop his long, gracefully flowing black locks.

The mere sight of these two figures caused a twitch of pain deep within Alista's spirit body and mind and caused fatal changes to the present horse's body. Suddenly, countless decaying wounds erupted from the horse's body, and Alista felt a shared sense of fear, weakness and vulnerability with the two-headed creature. 

Immediately following the corrosion of the horse's body, Alista attempted to force his consciousness out of his prey's memories.

After feeling a mental tug and hearing an echoing sound akin to glass spontaneously shattering, Alista opened his as and was met with his all-too-familiar stormy surroundings.

Now that the nearby creature is dead, is the time-freeze-shit over?

Dedicated to reaching the only destination in sight, Alista continued forward through the uncertain wasteland shrouded in a blanket of mist.

An uneasy thought lingered on his mind as he grimaced slightly.

*****

Atop a pyre supported by two illusory branched hands of light, a figure cloaked in a black cape of feathers with their face covered by a plague-doctor-like bird mask with a sharp-tipped beak. Enshrouded entirely in black leather clothing and a small pointy hat, showing no skin whatsoever, the man seated in an ordinary wooden chair gazed into the foggy storm.

This was Elder Gehrman, the captain of the scouts in Rapture City.

It was unknown what he was thinking as he stared blankly at the fog, as if searching for something hidden within.

Crossing one leg over the other, a dim, purple-hued light spread forth from his body. The purple light dispersed in the air for a few seconds before reforming as a small bird made of dark illusory bones that radiated the aura of the dead.

*****

 Beneath Rapture City's only church, an old, grey-haired woman wearing a thick white and yellow robe clutched a delicate runic pendant - the same rune corresponding to the pillar of the Life pathway. 

The beautiful woman of unknown age sat on her knees on an ornate white carpet depicting a bountiful harvest with her hands clasped before her chest. As she slowly opened her glowing yellow eyes, a faint motherly smile grew across her thin lips.

The Pope of the Church of Life, Matriarch Orianna, finished her prayer before the small stone prayer table with the symbol of Life painted in blood and rose slowly.

*****

Stuffing her small, pale hands into her red gloves, tying her tall red leather boots and placing her grey wolfskin hat atop her blue hair, Leona sheathed her ornate silver rapier in her ordinary-looking black sheath on her hip.

New orders had come in from the Elder. Previously, he was going to lead our team into the fog to search for ruins. However, just a few minutes ago, the captain ordered some of us to ready and gather before the main gate. Supposedly, our objective has changed.

As she walked through the wet and muddy streets of Rapture, the few locals out and about this early greeted Leona with a mix of friendly salutes and deep bows upon sighting her crimson-red gloves.

Quickly, the Elder's bird-like disguise came into view, as did three of her comrades, all bearing their distinct red gloves, the marking of a scout.

"Thank you for coming. Forgive me, but our expedition will have to wait. I need you to locate and retrieve another person lost within the fog." The Elder's hoarse, grave voice, muted by his large beak, choked the attention of the four red gloves present.

Rapture City hasn't recorded the discovery of an outsider in over 300 years. The mere thought of a possibly hostile stranger somewhere out there was something Leona had been trained to always consider, but never had she ever believed she'd find one.

"Are they hostile? Is there any way this person would know we are coming?" Imre, the oldest of her squad, a tall scar-faced man with deep cobalt hair, voiced his growing unease.

"They shouldn't be hostile unless provoked. In terms of strength, they shouldn't be a problem for the four of you. They seem determined to reach our village with motives unclear. Tread cautiously, but prioritise a friendly encounter and attempt to persuade them to return with you. They may carry great knowledge."

With the Elder's reply, the two massive wooden doors marked with the symbol of life on the left door, and the symbol of death on the right swung open with an ear-shattering creak. Positioned on either side of the door was a Sentinel of Rapture City, guardians of the church and civil peacekeepers dressed in their iconic white and yellow clergyman robes and white gloves.

Rain and hail pelleted the ground beneath Leona's feet, as she begrudgingly treaded through the open doors after a shared salute with Elder Gehrman. A thin mist blocked any view of the shadow they were hunting, a frightening reminder that their target could be almost anywhere in this storm.

The four red gloves shared a look of unease before each igniting their small hand-held lamps and holding them slightly forward from their chests. 

They walked in a small square formation, constantly scouring through the fog for any signs of life. Suddenly, a small ruined mural wall depicting the lower half of an unknown figure surrounded by skulls appeared before them. 

"Another mural. It seems to be one we found recently. Pay it no mind. We have a mission." Leona, the lieutenant of the scouts, immediately recognised the broken mural as one her team had previously discovered, instructing her team to press forward.

The gaze of a middle-aged man with long cerulean hair lingered on the ruin for a few moments, before he swiftly rejoined his squad.