Dala's eyes shot open to see a blackened sky above her. There was a pounding in her head and she could feel a bruise somewhere on the back. She sat up, staring into space for a moment as she tried to remember what happened. There was an argument on one of the ships she was traveling with over whether it was better to travel by air or by sea. She had chosen air, due to her bias with her dragon. That was a mistake on a ship full of sea-faring sailors. The next thing she knew, she was brawling with the rest of the ship crew. Although she was a competent fighter, she couldn't handle everybody at once.

"Shit." She muttered as she reached for her bag.

Her hand closed around empty air and she took a look down and realized it was missing. The bag that held all her equipment, coins, and rations was nowhere to be seen. Those blasted sailors! Dala shot to her feet and reached for her sword, only to find it too was missing. Did they want her to die? She knew she had insulted them but this was ridiculous! Luckily her pair of hidden daggers were still there and she was relieved that she wasn’t completely defenseless.

Dala turned her head and realized that she wasn't even on the ship anymore. It wasn't a beach either. She was in some sort of valley with broken statues but something was off about it. Besides the eclipse and blood moon, everything was silent. Valleys were supposed to be filled with crickets or birds or any other sounds. Even the sound of the wind would do. But there was only silence.

The young woman took a look at her clothes, trying to figure out how she had gotten here. Surely the crew wouldn't have bothered to drag her all the way inland. Even if they hated her they wouldn't have enough hatred to bother that much. Her trousers had spots of sand clinging to the fabric and a few grass stain streaks. The crew apparently had dumped her on the beach, even her hair had bits of sand in it. The grass stains suggested that something dragged her off the beach and into this strange valley. Confusion wracked Dala's brain as she tried to figure out what the hell was going on. If it was a monster, wouldn't it have just eaten her?

"Standing around doing nothing isn't going to help," Dala told herself.

An eery broken temple stood in the distance, practically begging for people to get trapped inside. She wasn't keen on entering but if whatever dragged her off the beach was in there, then there wasn't really much of a choice. The young woman raced towards the temple, keeping an eye out for danger and her ears out for any noise beyond silence.

It had been a while since he had traveled to a faraway place. Ever since he and Sapphire got married and had Neomi, most of Cyril's time was spent with his family and friends in Sularia. Every day was exciting with Arri's best blacksmith–Tempest, who was also married to Belen. Poppy and Lys lived nearby and his little brother was in the city's Black District. Normally he would have stayed, but he worried that his skills would get rusty if he passed up every opportunity. It wasn't hard to find a boat headed towards Tyr, as many people were interested in the new realm that appeared in the city of the dead. The half-fey had gotten separated from the mercenaries he came with as he started examining the valley. Most went straight up to the temple while he lagged behind, drawing pictures of the surrounding area. Recording the environment was an important part of being a folklorist. This whole place was some sort of hidden dimension isolated from the rest of Revaliir. Since this was the first time new people had seen this valley, it was necessary to record everything. Sometimes you didn't get a second chance to visit realms like these before they disappeared.

By the time he was done drawing, he was by himself. Taking his time climbing the ruined steep stairway, Cyril busied himself with inspecting every rock and statue along the way. Despite how long it took to reach the top, the eclipsed sun was still high in the sky. "Hmm, maybe I should've brought a timepiece with me? I can't really tell if it's just me or if everything feels like it's moving slower." Now standing at the ruined gates of the Eclipse Mirror Temple, he shaded his eyes as they followed their line of sight into what remained of a once-grand temple complex. It was so quiet…too quiet.

Pulling out his wayfinder's widget, Cyril tentatively walked in. Not even the sound of the wind was in this valley. None of the surrounding landscape looked familiar, so he wondered where this place used to be before it got trapped in this weird space-bubble. When he was a kid, his mom tried to explain to him what a pocket dimension was, and that was how she described it. Looking at it now, it made sense. Yet somehow, this space-bubble separated from everything else in the world still had the sun. What if this was a fake sun? He mulled over the thought for a bit. "Even if it's a fake sun, it still counts as the real thing in here. If everything in here isn't real out there, then that means it is real in here." Satisfied with his train of thought, he continued exploring the area. 

From the way he saw it, there were a lot of buildings but most of them were missing most of the roof or just exposed walls. The few that were intact looked very old. The main hall of the temple was in the best condition, while there were other side wings likely meant for other things. There was a watchtower nearby where he spied a large patina-encrusted bell hanging at the top. The shape was more like a barrel than the standard form, so this location originally wasn't from Canelux. Giving a quick look around to check he was safe, he started sketching the bell tower. The silver-haired young man stuck out like a sore thumb standing around with a sketchpad and pencil in hand.

The stone steps lead up to the main gate decorated with rust and yet somehow looking new. She passed through it, planning on entering the temple behind it. From the corner of her eye, Dala could see a young man with a notepad sketching out the scenery. Was this some sort of trick? Or maybe he was making a map? Either way, starting with him would be her best option. Ever abrasive, Dala walked straight up to the young man to speak with him.

"Why are you drawing this place?" She asked directly without bothering to say hello.

The young woman listened to his explanation. If he was a monster secretly posing as a human, he would choose a more mundane reason or avoid the question altogether. The fact that he was displaying such unique behavior likely meant he was legit and not some shape-shifter. After all, a shape-shifter would know better than to let themselves stand out. Once he was done, she gave out a sigh.

"Well, I guess you better come with me. A guy like you can't be left alone." She said with a confident grin, "You'll get killed if you keep on like this. But don't worry. I'll protect you from any threats!"

Despite the fact she only had one set of weapons, magic she wasn't used to, and no other materials to rely on, she decided to pretend she knew what she was up against. Dala turned to the temple with a smile as she stepped towards it. Whatever dragged her onto the island would be inside, she was certain of that. Perhaps her stolen stuff wasn't even taken by the sailors? There was also something about the temple that was calling out to her. Maybe it was the darkened windows, the time-frozen trees, or that air of mystery that begged her to explore? Either way, she was determined to find out what this place was about.

"Are you coming or what?" She asked the silver-haired man, "I'm Dala by the way. What's your name?"

Blissfully in his own world, Cyril was busy getting the details on the uniquely shaped bell copied as accurately as possible when a voice came from behind. Turning around with a smile, Cyril stopped sketching to see a blonde girl. "Oh, hello! From what I've heard, this is the first time this place has shown itself to the world so I'm drawing what I see for posterity's sake." Sketching from a reference sure took a lot of time. Maybe he could ask his mom if she had some sort of magic device that could record images instantly when he went back home. He didn't mind, but he was afraid that he wouldn't have enough time to record everything. With his sketch of the bell tower done, he put his sketchpad away into his bag. 

She looked like someone who came here to look for treasure, which worked out just fine for him. Cyril didn't expect the mercenaries on the boat to wait for him. After all they had other things on their minds. Having someone traveling with you made the journey more meaningful. The half-fey wasn't bothered by Dala's strong attitude. He was the kind of person who went his own way, but if somebody wanted him to come with, he'd tag along. It was just like those times where he would follow his older brother on wild adventures. Neomi and Sapphire would love to hear about everything afterwards. "Alright then! I'll do my best to help too!" He said in reply. While most might at least be a little bothered, Cyril was rather easy-going.

He quickened his pace to catch up with her brisk pace. Perhaps it was a good thing he found somebody to hang around, lest his mind and body wander off to who knows where. "I'm Cyril, a folklorist! So what are you here for? This place is pretty weird, it reminds me of this one book I read about a world inside a painting. The air smells kind of dusty, like old dry paper." His clothes were a mix of light armor with padded clothing. It was suitable for someone on the road most of the time, but had a slight ascetic feel–similar to what you expected from someone affiliated with a meditative religious order. His silver hair was tied loosely in a low ponytail, and his light purple eyes made him feel ethereal. As a good acquaintance of his used to say, when you looked at him you'd think his head was full of flowers.      

The guy she decided to protect reminded her of a soft-spoken puppy getting excited to see a stranger. She was surprised to hear that he was a folklorist despite the fact she had seen him drawing earlier. The idea of a folklorist coming all this way to such a dangerous place just for inspiration or a good story. Then again, she was thrown here so at least he came intentionally. There was something else that was unique about him. He had light purple eyes and something about him reminded her of flowers. She decided she would call him flower boy.

"Nice to meet ya!" Dala said.

She understood what he meant about this place being a little dusty. There was something about it that reminded her of nostalgia despite the fact she had never seen this place before. It wasn't even nostalgic. If somebody described what nostalgia would look like, she would describe it as this place. Still in the back of her mind, she could feel that something was wrong.

"Oh me? Well, I pissed off some sailors and was left for dead on the beach. I think they stole my stuff too." Dala said casually as if such a thing was normal, "I said that air travel was better than ocean travel."

The doors of the temple were made of stone that had cracks running along the frame and edges. Dala shoved against the door as hard as she could until it gave way and opened. Past the door was a twisting corridor with an eerie silence she had to ignore in order to step through. Even the wind dare not make a noise in this place. Suddenly the door slammed shut and cast them into darkness. Dala quickly reached for her bag, only to remember it wasn't there. It was only now that Dala realized how lost she was without her massive pack of equipment. Irritation stung her as she recognized her own helplessness until she remembered her own magic.

"I have an idea. Behold my epic abilities!" She declared.

Holding up her hand, she concentrated as hard as she could and focused all of her magic into one spell. Dala's original plan was to light up the entire room with light magic and make everything visible. Suddenly, her thumb began to glow with light magic. Only the thumb. But it was enough to light their way.

"Seriously?" Dala muttered then looked to Cyril, "Um… behold my epic thumb!"

With that, the young woman started marching off towards whatever laid at the end of the corridor.

Keeping up with her pace, Cyril nodded sympathetically when Dala explained how she ended up here. It seemed like the sailors didn't like that she preferred the air to the sea. Still, wasn't beating someone up badly and stealing from them before leaving them in the open too much? With a bit of difficulty Dala got the temple doors open, and they only had a few moments to see what the inside looked like before the doors shut themselves. The sudden slam made him jump before he let out a small sigh. "Oh, I guess I shouldn't be surprised it would do that…" This place definitely seemed like a place teeming with spiritual activity after all. As he blinked to adjust his eyes to the darkness, a small glowing light illuminated the corridor. Cyril watched as Dala cast her magic, causing her thumb to become luminescent. 

There was a short silence before she recovered from the large gap in her expectations. "Oh! That's much better now!" The folklorist was pleased nonetheless. It was a good thing Dala could use magic. He would be pretty put out if he woke up without anything, and it would be worse if he couldn't cast spells either.  "Hold on, let me get something." Fumbling a bit, he pulled out a handful of warding talismans before slinging his bag back over his shoulder. "Alright, I'm good!" With Dala lighting the way, it would be important to have these ready just in case. As they walked, they made several twists and turns in silence. Cyril carefully listened for anything strange, and took in every detail–whether it was the walls, floor, or ceiling. After a while he started getting a funny feeling he couldn't quite shake off. He didn't say anything, and kept observing. When Dala had cast her light spell, he noticed a crack on the left side of the corridor behind her. In unfamiliar places it was important to keep track of landmarks so you wouldn't lose your way. But they had been walking for a while now, and he had seen the exact same crack three times…

"Hey Dala, I think we're going in circles." He said, fretting. "I think we've passed the same walls and floor for a few times now." Supernatural phenomena worked in mysterious ways, and the 'ghost maze' was a well-known one. He didn't want to create panic, so he had waited until he was sure they had been repeating the same loop more than once. There was another reason why he didn't bring this up right away: if they were being watched, whatever had made this trap would make changes or take action. You had to be careful with what you said when you weren't alone. But if something did decide to act up, he had his talismans ready.  

Her new friend brought out a bunch of what she assumed to be talismans but she was still unsure about what they were. Dala continued onwards, holding out her thumb to light the way. They continued walking for an uncanny amount of time and eventually, Dala began to wonder how long this hallway actually was. From the outside, it didn't appear to be that long. It wasn't until Cyril pointed out that the room was looping that she even realized they were going into circles. But all they had done was walk straight forwards? They didn't even take any turns. Her eyes widened in realization as she looked around the room.


"Ghosts…" She muttered.

She didn't actually know if it was a ghost or not but any room that had this kind of magic was obviously supernatural. The temple looked like the sort of place that a ghost would hide with its eerie cracked walls and darkened interiors. Her temper began to rise as she realized they were wasting their time with the walking and it was all some stupid spirit's fault. Dala held out her thumb and placed her other hand on her hip as she raised her voice to shout.

"Hey ghost jackasses!" The young woman yelled, "You are so fucking pathetic!"

A confident smirk appeared on her face as she continued.

"I mean tricking us with these little pranks? Instead of fighting us with any pride or courage you just hide behind your magical abilities. Then again, you probably died because you were too useless in a fight. Maybe that's why you chose not to fight." Dala said, "Or maybe you died some other way. Doesn't matter to us. We can come and go as we please. Unlike the rest of you who are stuck here for the rest of eternity. How fucking sad is that?"

Dala turned to Cyril and gave him a thumbs-up, letting him know to get ready. The air around them turned frigid as the spell on the looped room stopped. If that didn't draw them out, then Dala had much more that would make them even more irritated.

"Now how's your family?" She asked then made a fake shocked look, "Oops. Probably shouldn't have mentioned that. They're probably in some nice afterlife somewhere while you're all stuck here. Or do you even have families?"

According to exorcist protocol, adepts in training were strongly advised against verbal provocation when handling earth-bound spirits. Cyril made a slightly pained expression when Dala immediately started challenging the spirits, throwing quite a few strong insults in the process. Lo and behold, as soon as she finished talking the entire corridor started to quake violently as the ambient temperature began to rapidly plummet. The ghost maze disappeared, and without hesitation he threw the talismans in the air. Charged with spiritual energy, the slips of incantations became homing projectiles and attached themselves to the floor, walls, and ceiling–causing a few disembodied wails as a few ghosts were sent into the light. The shaking then stopped, and the air warmed up in an instant.

"That's all of them…for now." He said with relief. Cyril hadn't expected Dala to openly aggravate them head-on, but fortunately these ghosts weren't very strong. On the bright side, they could make some progress exploring now. With the supernatural phenomenon dispelled, the light cast from Dala's thumb revealed a few old doors on the sides of the corridor up ahead. The presence of these ghosts must have interfered with the level of visibility. The rest of the corridor past those doors was still too dark to see, however. Come to think of it, there weren't any windows. There were rusted metal brackets on the walls that might have been designed for torches. No wonder it was so dark. 

"I think I see some doors up ahead! With how we walked into a ghost maze right off the bat, there's probably going to be spectral activity behind them too." He couldn't say the same for traps though. They'd have to figure out where those doors led to first to get a grasp on the temple's former layout and function. When they approached the doors, Cyril carefully inspected them. "Which one do you want to try first–right or left?" So far he didn't see any noticeable trap mechanisms, and the handles were simple. They looked like completely ordinary doors. There was a suspicious-looking discolored spot that contrasted with the wood grain of the door situated on the right.

Just as she finished with her last taunt the entire corridor shook and the air grew frigid. The stupid maze was gone, which had been her goal, and she quickly drew her sword to fight the enemies. Unfortunately, she had no idea where the ghosts were or how to fight them so she ended up swinging her daggers in the air, hitting nothing while Cyril did all the important work. She didn't stop fighting air until Cyril said that they were all gone. Once she heard that, she sheathed her daggers and ran to Cyril's side to guide him through the corridor.

Using her thumb of power, she was able to see a lot more than before. There were a few old doors on the sides of the corridor ahead. The walls had no windows which explained the darkness of the room. Cyril carefully observed the doors and began to wonder which one would be the best to enter. Dala looked at the doors too but lacked any ghost or supernatural knowledge to figure out which was more important or less important. With a shrug, Dala walked over to the left door and slammed her foot at the center. The door flew off the hinges and fell onto the floor with a loud bang. Turning around, Dala ran over to the right door and jumped kicked it. The right door fell down too.

"Okay, Cyril. Do your ghost detective stuff.  If you look for ghosts then we can know which to take." Dala reasoned.

At the end of the day all that mattered was getting something cool out of it. The young woman also wanted something more than just a few daggers to protect herself. She was secretly hoping there would be a ghost sword or a ghost detecting item so she could be of some use in a ghost battle. Behind the left door was an ancient room with the scattered remains of what looked like furniture. The only survivor among the destruction was a strange closet lurking in the dark. Whatever was behind the right door was too dark to see. Fog unfurled from the room and a strange pressure could be felt whenever one stepped inside. Like something was pushing down on your lungs….

"Sniff out any ghosts yet?" Dala asked. "I'm ready to punch a dead bitch."

When in doubt, why not both? With her decisive thinking, they now could see into to the rooms proper. "Alright, let's see…" Cyril put on a mildly serious expression as he focused on the two rooms. The left room didn't feel off, but the closet seemed like a good place to hide things. There wasn't anything else to really look at in there. On the right, there was thick miasma–likely supernatural in origin since it wasn't moving out of the room with the door gone. "The right side looks like a bigger concern at the moment. I can't see anything with all of that in the way. Safety first." Pulling out more talismans, he proceeded to make a line around the door frame and on the floor, creating a temporary barrier. "How about we check the left side first? If anything tries to come out of the other room it'll get blocked for a while." 

The room on the left was dusty but thankfully didn't have any traps. The bedding had disintegrated, leaving behind a pile of fibers and brittle wood. Casting a spell of protection over himself, he inspected the closet and then opened it. Cyril held his breath expecting a dart or something to hit him, then opened them when nothing happened. And the contents of the mysterious closet were…books. Very, very old books. The paper was yellow and extremely fragile, practically close to becoming parchment crumbs. There was no water damage, curses, or mold–so it was safe to take. "I wonder what these books are about. I guess we can check after we clear out the other side." So into the bag they went, carefully.

The folklorist then sneezed a few times, sending more dust into the air. From the looks of this place, it was like the room of a boarding school. The room with the ominous 'fog' was quiet, eerily so. With his nose no longer itchy, Cyril prepared to remove the talismans on the threshold before they went in. Immediately he felt the suffocating pressure inside. Whatever was in here was much stronger than the ones that made the maze, but he did his best to keep a straight face. "You might want to close your eyes for a bit, it'll be over in a second." He said, giving Dala a heads-up. Then, he swiftly motioned with the fingers of one hand, causing a pulse of light to burst in the midst of the dark. The moment the first sparks of light appeared, there came a grating screech that sounded like an enraged rusty hinge. The miasma recoiled, writhing and twisting around trying to get away. 

The foul smoke then condensed into a vague humanoid shape complete with glowing red eyes giving off an intense feeling of hatred. As the remaining talismans outside the room were still in effect, all they had to do was block the way to prevent it from escaping. The haunted room's interior was no longer obscured, showing similar contents as the other–but with something metallic radiating malicious intent from under the bed. That metallic object moved on its own, the raspy scraping of the floorboards revealing an old double edged short sword now suspended in mid-air within the specter. With a howl, the poltergeist attacked!