Abel's fast but cautious steps towards the Cathedral came to an abrupt halt.
His heart was thumping loudly in his chest. His ears felt hot, and a flush of overbearing heat washed over his skin.
He felt as if he had already been impaled and murdered by whatever it was he had seen beyond the shadows of the tall spire-like buildings surrounding the crimson road.
As his foot stopped mid step, the faint scrape of his shoe against the cobblestone suddenly sounded far too loud in the void of the street.
For a moment he didn't move.
Maybe I imagined it. Yeah… It's not unusual to have hallucinations in situations that induce high amounts of stress. This is normal. I'm fine. Just keep walking towards the Cathedral. He told himself in his mind. Subconsciously too afraid to risk speaking any words aloud.
The buildings around him stood silent beneath the crimson glow of the moon. Their dark windows stared back like hollow eyes, offering no hint that anything had been watching from the narrow alley between them.
Abel slowly turned his head.
Nothing.
Just the narrow passage between two buildings where he thought he had seen movement.
He let out a quiet breath through his nose that he hadn't even realised he had been holding in.
"Yeah," he muttered under his breath.
"Definitely imagining things. Keep Moving.." His voice trailed off as his feet began to move once again towards the Cathedral in the distance.
Still…
From that point on his grip on the crimson metal pole was placed firmly in the palm of his right hand. If something did move back there, then whatever it was would be violently smacked before it took him out. Of that he was sure.
Moving down the wide stretches of road leading to the cathedral, Abel stuck to the sides now. Not wishing to be seen by anyone or anything. Eventually he spotted a plaza up ahead, a large rounded fountain in the middle surrounded by stalls, tents and fencing.
One tent in particular stood out to Abel because of its large, robust look, and its uncanny resemblance to something he recognised from earth.
"Is that a circus?" He got out after a single intense moment of mental processing.
This town was already suspicious. What with its gothic inspired architecture, large crypts and blacked out windows in every building. But this? Nothing good can come out of here. If I linger here for too long I might be spotted by something in the outskirts of the plaza, its large, open space, and I doubt that that tent will provide much protection from a Daemon. He thought to himself.
Then, as his gaze drifted over the placement of structures and points of interest in the plaza he noticed something that piqued his curiosity. More so than the large tent in the north eastern most point in the plaza.
A small, but sizable tent of purple and dark grey tarp, there was a small stall out front and fencing surrounding the back of it, presumably to keep out any bystanders from wandering in from an exit not meant for the public.
"No need to worry about that anymore I suppose. Can't stop me if you're not even here to guard it now can you." He said almost amused at his own level of sarcasm before cautiously making his way over to it, clinging to the buildings that surrounded the plaza until he was at the most optimal position to make his way directly through the back entrance.
The fence was large enough to stop people from falling into the sides of the tent, yes. But it wasn't designed to keep people out if they were moving intentionally.
Abel cut across the painstakingly large gap between the building he was clinging to and the back entrance of the tent. He clambered silently underneath the fence's lowest bar, which in truth wasn't low at all. A small child could probably stroll right past it without ever noticing a barrier there in the first place.
"Hup" He let out a withdrawn but unavoidable breath of air as he clambered to his feet. A quick glance at the entrance's design told him many things, none he could be clear of though, especially when making a clear judgment on what the tent was intended for. But his best guess so far was that it was a tent meant for some form of entertainment. Given its rather small nature, he didn't know what it could possibly be hinting at.
"The best way forward is onward I suppose." He said before lifting a veil of cloth that made up the back entrance's 'door' and taking his first step inside.
What he saw made his mind spin.
An ornamental, dark wooden table was splayed out in the center of the tent. Two chairs were sat on the side of the intended entrance opposite him, and a single, more luxurious looking chair was placed closer to him. On the table was an orb that illuminated an almost eerie, dim, pale green light.
"Now I don't know what I was expecting to find here. But this was not it. Who did this belong to.. An oracle? Or some sort of tarot card reader?" He exclaimed in mild shock, but judging by the small assembly of tarot cards surrounding the illuminating orb he couldn't have been far off.
Not quite sure what he was expecting to happen, he haphazardly picked up one of the cards, only for his shock to turn into instant regret and indulgent panic almost immediately.
{You have obtained two Tarot Cards}
{Major Arcana - The Wheel of Fortune}
{Description}
{The Wheel of Fortune represents the endless turning of fate. In the traditions of ancient tarot, it symbolizes cycles of fortune, misfortune, chance, and inevitability. No position upon the wheel is permanent. Kings fall, beggars rise, and destiny turns without warning or mercy.}
{When held within the Crucible, this card marks the bearer as one who walks close to the axis of fate itself. Events surrounding you may tilt subtly toward fortunate outcomes, improbable survival, and unexpected opportunity. Fortune is more inclined to acknowledge your presence.}
{Minor Arcana - Suit of Wands, King}
{Description}
{The King of Wands represents command, ambition, and the fire of leadership. In traditional tarot, the bearer of this card is one who inspires action in others, a figure who moves forward with purpose and draws followers through presence alone. Such individuals are often unaware of the influence they carry.}
{When held within the Crucible, this card grants the bearer a subtle authority. Others who encounter you may find themselves more inclined to listen, consider their words, or hesitate before opposing you. This influence does not compel obedience, nor does it override free will, but your voice will carry a weight that ordinary individuals cannot easily ignore.}
{You have gained two new attributes}
{Star of Fortune}
{Description}
{You have been touched by the turning of fate. Fortune does not merely surround you, it reveals itself to you.}
{You may now perceive the hidden potential within relics, revenants, phantoms, and individuals. When focusing upon an object or being, you may glimpse the subtle threads that compose its existence.}
{Fated King}
{Description}
{The Crucible recognizes you as an individual whose fate trends toward dominion. Whether through strength, will, circumstance, or ruin, your path carries the potential to culminate in rulership.}
{This fate does not bind you to any single throne. The Crucible does not define what is ruled, only that you possess the capacity to stand above others as a sovereign.}
Abel stared at the glowing text hanging in the air.
For several seconds he didn't breathe.
The pale green letters floated before him like a phantom reflection, suspended in the dim glow of the orb at the center of the table.
"What…?" he whispered.
His eyes darted across the strange notifications again.
Tarot cards.
Attributes.
The Crucible.
His heart began beating faster again, but this time it wasn't from fear alone.
"Wait… wait a second."
His mind raced as pieces began connecting together.
Back on Earth, there had been endless speculation about the mechanics of the Crucible. Scholars, governments, scientists. Everyone had theories.
But one theory was actually solidified into fact.
Some objects within the Embrace could grant power.
Abel slowly lowered his gaze toward the table. For some reason it felt strangely mundane to him now, as if he had seen it frequently. He wasn't sure if this was because of the bombardment of rather important information he had just been shell shocked with, or if it was a subtle result of one of his new attributes.
The orb continued to glow softly, bathing the tent in that strange pale green light.
"So this thing…" he murmured quietly. Glaring at the orb with barley concealed suspicion.
"…is some kind of relic."
He reached down and picked up the card he had grabbed earlier. It fell from his grasp when he was startled by the Crucibles notifications and had promptly landed back on the table.
The paper felt strangely warm in his fingers, as though it had absorbed heat from something unseen.
The artwork on the card was far more detailed than he had realized before.
A great wheel filled the image, turning endlessly through a dark sky filled with unfamiliar stars. Strange figures surrounded the wheel. Beasts, angels, creatures he couldn't even begin to identify.
The symbol at the center of the wheel glowed faintly.
Abel exhaled slowly.
"Star of Fortune…" he muttered.
If the description was accurate, it meant one thing.
Luck.
Actual, measurable luck.
"That's… ridiculous," he said under his breath.
But the Crucible wasn't known for joking.
His eyes drifted back toward the orb sitting at the center of the table.
Now that he was calmer, he could see that the crystal sphere wasn't perfectly smooth. Faint geometric patterns were carved into its surface, spiraling slowly toward a small indentation near its base.
The green glow pulsed gently inside the glass.
Almost like a heartbeat.
Abel hesitated.
"Well," he said quietly.
"If I'm already stealing tarot cards from a magic tent, I might as well go all the way."
He extended his hand.
His fingers slowly touched the surface of the orb.
For a brief moment nothing happened.
Then the light inside the crystal surged.
Abel flinched as the glow intensified, flooding the inside of the tent with pale green light.
"What the!"
The orb suddenly collapsed inward.
Not shattered or broken.
But simply… folded.
The crystal imploded into a tiny point of light before vanishing completely.
Abel blinked.
The table was empty.
"…Huh?"
A familiar notification appeared in front of his eyes.
{You have obtained a Relic}
{Crystal Phylactery}
{Description}
{A relic formed through unknown ritual practices associated with the forgotten sect known as the Crimson Communion. The crystal once served as a conduit for divination, allowing those who possessed it to glimpse fragments of possible futures.}
{Relic Function Description: Soul Anchor}
{Upon death, the bearer's consciousness will return to the Crystal Phylactery if the relic remains intact.}
{Reconstitution of the physical body will occur after a necessary period of time.}
Abel stared at the message.
His brain took several seconds to process what he had just read.
Then his eyes widened.
"…You're kidding."
His hands immediately patted down his coat and pockets.
Nothing.
"No, no, no, no."
Then he felt it. Something had taken up space within him. He felt as if a hole had been slightly filled within him.
Abel slowly lowered his hands. The panic experienced only in fleeting.
"…So let me get this straight."
He pointed vaguely at the empty space where the orb had been.
"You're telling me I just picked up some magic crystal that lets me…"
He paused.
"…come back to life?"
The tent remained silent.
No glowing text answered him this time.
Abel rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well… that's horrifying."
But also incredibly useful. He exclaimed in mirth in his mind
He exhaled slowly.
He stretched out his hands towards the tarot cards once more, and again the same sensation washed over him. There was a flash of light, and he felt like more space was now occupied within him. Although noticeably less than the Crystal Phylactery had taken up.
"Okay."
He straightened up.
"Step one: survive."
"Step two: don't lose the magic resurrection crystal."
"Step three…"
His eyes drifted toward the distant cathedral outside the tent.
"…figure out what the hell happened to this town."
Satisfied that nothing else inside the tent was going to suddenly start glowing at him, Abel pushed aside the cloth entrance and stepped back outside.
The crimson moon still hung in the sky.
The plaza remained completely silent.
He adjusted his grip on the metal pole and started moving again, heading toward the looming cathedral in the distance.
His footsteps slowly faded as he disappeared into the streets.
The tent remained still for a long moment.
Then something moved inside the alley beside it.
A shape slipped silently across the cobblestones.
Low to the ground.
Thin.
Watching.
It waited several seconds after Abel disappeared down the street.
Then the shadow crept toward the tent entrance.
The cloth curtain shifted slightly as something pushed its way inside.
Two pale eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
The shadow slowly approached the empty table where the orb had once rested.
Its head tilted.
Confused.
The scent it had followed was still here.
But the object it sought was gone.
A low, hungry growl rumbled quietly in the back of its throat.
Then the shadow turned its head toward the direction Abel had gone.
And began to follow.