The village was abandoned.
Nestled in a hollow between burnt hills, it stood silent under the midday heat. Roofs caved in. Ash clung to every surface like a memory that refused to be forgotten. There were no bodies. No cries. Only the strange stillness of a place that should’ve been alive.
"We'll rest here," Sakura said. “Just for a few hours.”
Kazuha nodded, but not without suspicion. Stillveil twitched gently at her side, never fully at ease. I scouted the perimeter — collapsed fences, half-burnt effigies of unknown gods, and dried blood that hadn’t yet drawn flies. But nothing moved.
Not yet.
We made camp inside what could have been once a chapel or a temple. Stained glass now shattered into amber shards on the floor as the boards creaked softly where we step. Kazuha sat near the altar, eyes half-lidded, brushing her hands gently along Stillveil. Sakura leaned against a wall, her hand resting on the Temporal Vow, tracing lines in its cracked surface absently.
"I don't like this place." The Compass whispered in my head.
"The Compass says it doesn't like this place," I echoed for the others to hear.
"Neither do I," Sakura replied, "but the Compass does not like everything but Stillveil." She jokes lightly, earning a soft chuckle from Kazuha while Stillveil pulses faintly as if... embarassed? I wasn't sure, then again, I never am with these relics. "And it pointed us here," she added.
"You snitching on me, kid?" the Compass threatens me non-threateningly.
I chuckled. "If I did, you'll know, we're stuck together every second of every minute of every hour." I quipped. "Or you're probably just that obvious." I added teasingly.
"Well if not you, then.... oh I see..." The Compass seems to have come to a conclusion, a conclusion which I conclude was not very good.
"Its that pendant. That damn Temporal Vow is gossiping on me." He whispers, again, non threateningly. "When I get my needle on that bastard's... " I interrupted him with a chuckle.
"Come on Compass, we have first watch, and I'll have to listen to you dribble about your non existent lovelife." I teased as I took position near the chapel's doors.
"Oh. Obnoxious are we. Just because you were kissed by a hottie of an angel while the other one is aching to have her turn does not give you the right to step on my heart."
"You don't have a heart, you're a compass."
"My soul has one!" He replied indignantly. "And it aches for Stillveil. Oh to be wrapped by those soft silver fabric contrasted by the black fabric's roughness." He shifts tone like a beggar kid admiring a princess she can't have.
I chuckled. "You know, if the Temporal Vow is snitching on you, I don't blame it. And what do you mean by Sakura aching for her turn?"
"Only seems fair that I snitch on the Temporal Vow's owner."
"The Temporal Vow's not snitching on you, Compass." I said in frustration as I laid my bags on the wooden floor.
"Do you have evidence?" The Compass argued.
"Do YOU have evidence?" I countered.
"Compasses always point in the right direction, kid."
"I'm pretty sure that's irrelevant."
"Overruled."
"What?!"
"Anyway, back to Sakura. Haven't you seen how she looks at you since Kazuha kissed you?" He whined like a gossiping old lady.
I took a glance at Sakura as I sat down on the floorboards. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second, a fraction which once again felt like hours before she broke eye contact and everything seemed to flow right again.
"So, what do you think?" The Compass asked like a giddy puppy.
"I think you're full of crap, Compass."
"Hey! I'm just trying to be a good needleman!"
I chuckled as we settled in a comfortable silence, too comfortable.
That’s when I heard it.
A hum.
Low. Melodic. Alien. Unholy.
It was followed by a heat, like hot ash pricking the skin.
It didn’t come from outside.
It came from under the floorboards.
I unsheathed my dagger and tapped twice against the wooden beam near Sakura. Her eyes opened immediately. Kazuha was already standing.
The hum grew louder.
No. It wasn’t a hum. It was a hymn.
"Pain is pride. Rage is rot. The Flames of emotion must be expunged."
The floor collapsed — and they rose from beneath us — hands clawing out of the wood and soil, faces once human now stretched by something not their own. Villagers, dressed in scorched robes, branded by Blightflame sigils that pulsed faintly beneath their skin. Their eyes glowed with hollow light, and their mouths sang the same twisted melody.
"Purify the Fallen. Burn the rebel’s voice. Drown the fire of emotions. Turn their legacy to ash."
"Broken Enlightened!" Kazuha hissed as she whirled forward. Stillveil flashed like moonlight through smoke, swirling protectively around her in streaks of black and silver as she swayed slowly, Fallen and relic both poised for battle.
Sakura shouted a warning, but it came a second too late.
A new presence spilled into the room — silent and vast, and it seemed to suck off the oxygen from the room.
A Purity Wraith.
It did not shimmer like the others. It was skeletal-white, wrapped in flame so pale it seemed made of memory. Its fire did not burn. It bled, like lava flowing down a volcano. I felt my emotions retreat, like they were being pushed down by invisible hands. My grip on the daggers faltered.
Kazuha cried out, stumbling back.