A myriad of sputtering orange lights struggled against the darkness, unable to fill the shadows that persisted between each flame. But it was enough to reveal what hid below the empty forgotten ruin the ghoul had unceremoniously entered: a space littered with stone structures silent expect for the crackling braziers illuminating damned buildings felled by the pressure of time. On and on the ruins spread, the occasional edifice ascending into the dark. There seemed to be no roof; instead, a deep abyss spread above as wide as the sky and draped at the edge of illumination. Debris of former grandeur barred the way into the darkest of darkness.

It was a sensation of abandonment and confinement that pervaded as far as the eye could see. What could have once been the resounding joy of many people was now crumbling and forgotten, home to nothing but remnants of a past. A grand city destitute of life except, in the distant horizon, a looming pyramid shown dimly: a giant purple flame burning gently at its peak.

“Who’s there!” shouted the ghoul out into the desolate city. He was given no response and instead the purple on the pyramid flared and burned brighter. If only a little, his trust in Alison had returned, the city a great enough astonishment to more than overfill his curiosity. “A city of ruin, what secrets could be found here?” the ghoul wondered as he inspected his surroundings, entranced by the possibility that he would finally find answers. Any answer.

Tattered stone buildings with signs of drink, food, armor, clothes and weapons ran along the street he stood on. Many displayed a variety of wares through clear grand windows; the braziers outside illuminating the items that never found an owner.

He walked forward, captivated by the array of colors found in every shop. Dresses of red and yellow vibrantly stood out, a sign hanging from above to display the words ‘The Spiders Silk’. He made his way inside.

Clothes of every color, vibrant and glistening, were arranged on wooden racks and shelves. He ran a hand along the various textures, soft and rough but each slightly damp. He draped a red sheet over himself, the soft comfort a joy his body relished. As he rubbed the cloth against his cheek, the ghoul noticed a strange clear case in the far back of the shop. Dropping the red, he walked toward the case and, in the dim brazier light, he noticed a very thin white mantle inlaid with gleaming purple. Purple that reflected off his daring eyes and smile. He smashed his hand through the glass and draped the item.

A wooden sign lay sprawled and broken on the floor. An intricately adorned sword was drawn on it, painted words blurred or missing. The ghoul stepped on the sign as he shuffled out of its building. Necklaces, gold, white and silver, nestled against him. On his hands, rings, red, green and yellow, holding jewels the size of pebbles. On his left forearm a jagged crystal buckler shield, the handle tight: biting at his skin. Black boots covered his feet and black pants finally covered his loins. Strapped to his back were a ridiculous number of swords which he bothered fixing as they slipped. Satisfied, the ghoul looked at the armor shop in front of him and let out a sigh. If not for how difficult it was to put on, his whole body would be encased in a suit of gold.

The braziers now burned dimly, their fuel mostly gone, the flames dwindling, casting a soft glow on the street.

Remains littered the street: carriages full of luggage, books and pages strewn on the ground, brittle bones of animals that had long passed and piles of armor. Details before overlooked now eerie in the waning light. But the ghoul’s attention was captivated not by the disarray on the street but by what looked down on it: strings of cloth that hung listlessly from above. Flags on roofs and banners on walls held the symbol on his right hand: three diagonal black lines, each smaller than the last.

As the ghoul focused on the symbol, perplexed, slight whispers slithered into his ear. Creatures moved between shadows. He quieted his breath and peered into the vacant stores he had already visited.

The ghoul, alert, waited to hear an echoing voice again.

He scanned his surroundings as he looked for a body where the voice could have come from. But the bodies he did see were only fleeting, always at the edge of his sight and too grotesque to want to approach. They disappeared in all sizes, dark globs of black goo with white protruding all over. From shadow to shadow they went, closer and closer as the light died. He peered into the darkness and his eyes saw what was most hidden, what the braziers fought to reveal.

A multitude of shapes moved where no light reached. They swarmed all available space or stood still, never moving, as other shapes collided against them, letting their goo fly. He watched as globs the size of men drifted across and over debris. Others the size of children slithered up walls and latched themselves onto roofs only to fall back with the others. Some reached the highest places available to become stock still, boulders that overlooked the mess below them. They were simple creatures but terrifying. For the white that protruded from their bodies was bone. Bone hands, bone feet, bone arms, legs and teeth. Every kind of bone could be found in the sea of goo. Now that he looked at the areas alight, he found the trails of slime that he had not noticed before and remembered the cloth he had touched, the dampness.

He jumped and jiggled as he struggled to remove everything. Necklaces and rings slipped away, swords came falling, the brilliant shield was hurled, the clothes were bundled and thrown. The ghoul frantically moved back to the stairs making sure to stay within the withering remains of the light.

He faced the banners holding his mark, the crackling fire no longer overpowering the ominous sounds of movement and threat. Shrieking swords or ominous globs, curiosity had only led him to trouble.

“I’ll wait for Alison,” the ghoul whispered to himself, aiming to sit halfway up the stairs.

He looked behind him, at the stairs that went up and up and disappeared behind the heavy veil of darkness. This was an eerie place and it was probably best if he made his way out, but the stairs seemed to stretch out farther the further he looked. And just as he placed his foot on the first step of the unimaginably long stairway, he gave a start to the sudden chomp on his leg, a shriek loosening his lips.

He looked down and saw very familiar orange eyes attached to a pudgy stubby body. A small four-legged creature looked up at him with large beady eyes that stuck out from a flat wrinkled face. Dull fangs had bit onto his leg and now released, the little canine stumbling away from the ghoul and into the nearest ruin, lost as it scrambled over and out of sight.

“Come to me at the purple fire,” a voice echoed.

The ghoul looked at the stairs behind him and then at the distant pyramid that loomed over him with its purple fire. It was far distant, the bottom half of the pyramid covered by the multitude of buildings in the horizon. A sense of safety, as the one that Alison emitted, could be found in it. A familiarity that he found strange to experience. If only he could remember. Maybe, this was a voice he had heard before and, with that thought, the ghoul made it his goal to find the mysterious being. He might finally get some type of answer to his predicament.

He had come this far for answers. A simple trek would be nothing more.

“I’m going,” said the ghoul just as the braziers’ fire died. He ran after the little beast, over debris, and into the sight of blazing fires. A trail to follow.