The two horses trotted along the muddy path, silently making their way toward their destination. The surrounding environment felt utterly deserted; half of the trees nearby bore no leaves. Across the horizon, Arinthal could see an old town, its buildings rickety and dangerous.
Aetheris noticed Arinthal's surprise at its state and explained, "This town is not a territory of the Sixty Kingdom Federation, hence it lacks the support of a higher power."
"Sixty Kingdom Federation?" Arinthal asked.
"They call it the Virethana Federation, led by the king of Nadindel," Aetheris replied. "They comprise a large number of the kingdoms of Tamenlein, hence they command an enormous power."
Arinthal wanted to ask another question, but he realized they had already arrived at the wooden gates of the nearly desolate town. The first house they saw belonged to an old man sitting out front, rocking himself in a chair and smoking a pipe. His house was built of birch and roofed with a mass of straw, making it a simple cottage.
The man didn't look at them when they arrived until Aetheris greeted him. "Good day, my good man."
"Fuck off!" he said in a crisp tone.
Arinthal quickly stifled a laugh. Aetheris took no offense and asked again, "What town is this?"
"This is Onmin. Whoever you are, leave this place as fast as you can, or risk your useless lives. Your choice."
"What do you mean, old man?" Arinthal asked.
The old man didn't answer. He simply kept smoking his pipe. Aetheris shook her head and began to ride deeper into the town.
The two rode further into the settlement, where countless deserted houses greeted them, until they reached a roundabout with a statue at its center. The statue depicted a woman dressed in a flowing gown. She held a sword in her left hand, which was partially covered by her flowing hair. It radiated a strange, strong power, one Arinthal couldn't quite decipher. He turned to look at Aetheris, who merely shrugged.
Suddenly, creaking sounds echoed behind them as the gates of all the surrounding cottages opened. To their surprise, the townspeople began to pour out. Young and old alike took no notice of the newcomers, heading straight for the statue, where each person knelt down.
"I'm guessing that statue is an idol," Arinthal said.
"Yes, it is," an unknown voice said from behind them.
Arinthal and Aetheris spun around to find a brown-haired maiden holding a silver tray with burning incense on it. She had bright green eyes and a kind smile that contrasted sharply with the expressionless faces of the worshipping townspeople.
"I'm Cirien. It's a pleasure to meet you, newcomers," she smiled.
"I'm Aetheris, and that's Arinthal. We're..." she started to introduce them, but Arinthal interrupted, his blue eyes eyeing the idol.
"Which god is that?"
"Moiraxys. She governs dark fate," Cirien responded before walking past them. She approached the idol, set the incense down, and let the sweet-smelling smoke wash around the statue. Afterward, she knelt by it and started to pray.
Arinthal observed the proceedings with great interest. He didn't notice when the old man from before came to stand beside them.
"Follow me, you two," the old man ordered and started to walk back to his cottage. They did so, and soon they were inside the shelter, sitting on rickety chairs around a worn-out table.
"What is their deal?" Arinthal asked bluntly.
"Who?" the old man frowned.
"The townspeople. And what is up with that idol?"
"Oh, that. It all started when that bitch Cirien's mother came into this town," the old man narrated, pausing to take an inhalation from his pipe. "She married the mayor, even though no one questioned where she was from. Then the mayor suddenly started worshipping Moiraxys, even though this town hadn't worshipped one of those Elyrian bastards in hundreds of years."
Both Arinthal and Aetheris remained silent as the man released a thick cloud of smoke from his mouth.
"By the way, you're an elf, aren't you?" he addressed Arinthal. "You must have a thing for disliking the Pantheon Voldus."
Arinthal just nodded and waited for the tale to continue.
"So, the mayor died a month or two after Cirien was born, and that was when strange things started happening. The townstalk started disappearing, and visitors who stayed the night here never survived. Either their intestines would be removed, or they would disappear completely, leaving their sheets soiled with blood. Every blood moon, six maidens disappear, never to be found again," he explained, his eyes staring into the void.
"Why not leave?" Aetheris asked, her eyes lit with interest and concern.
"Those who tried never survived," he said simply.
"So you think all this is connected to Moiraxys?" Arinthal questioned.
"Yes. I saw one of the maidens who disappeared moving toward her temple in the mountains behind us. She walked without thought. When I ran over to stop her, her eyes were as white as slate, and her mind was being controlled."
"That does not seem to concern us," Arinthal said, standing up and ignoring the sharp jab Aetheris gave him in the groin with her elbow. "Besides, you didn't want us here in the first place, so we'll leave."
Just then, they heard a sharp, loud neighing outside before it suddenly fell silent.
They rushed outside only to find their horses dead on the ground, their intestines ripped out and their blood forming a muddy pool.
"Now, it concerns you," the old man said quietly. "You can stay the night with me."