Chapter Text
The woods seemed eerily quiet, the setting sun made shadows long, stretching farther than the tree's roots could reach. Trees were long, slender people, and with the stillness of the air, they truly could have been. Animals that were chirping and skittering once before, were now either hushed or croaking with a pitch that echoed within the lost traveler's heart. He pulled his sleeves upward, unable to keep the cuffs around his wrists from making him feel claustrophobic. Scars littered the travelers arms and face, Frankenstein-like patches scattered all over. His brunette hair swished behind him in a low ponytail as he treaded the unknown territory.
He felt lost.
Who was he kidding, he was lost.
A gentle hum rang through the air, breaking the haunting croaks and creaks, which caused the brunette to turn his head towards the melodic sound. The lullaby came from behind several bushes and foliage, hidden away. He knew to be cautious — having run in with more than a couple sirens was not the best experience. He took a single step towards the melody, coincidentally stepping on an extra snappy twig. The humming came to a stop as quickly as it started, and he quickly scrunched his eyebrows in regret for not being as careful.
“Come on Scar… only you can fumble something so simple,” he muttered to himself, sounding mildly ticked off at the huge accident. He forced himself to move on, no matter what was ahead, even if the creature disappeared. Scar’s footsteps quickened as he approached the bushes, the air turning disturbingly still the closer he got.
Grinning, Scar reached forwards with both his hands, ripping through the bush, “AHA!” But behind the bush was nothing of what he was expecting, even if he didn't know what to expect. A lonesome winged statue, shorter than he. The statue had three sets of wings, two on its head, two in replacement of ears, and two in the back. It was chiseled with skill and precision, showing off the avian’s drapery, which Scar couldn’t help but marvel. Its closed eyes, peaceful expression, and not to mention the clasped hands made it look like an angel of some sort. The angel statue looked so life-like. The sun cast a simple glow upon the statue, dipping and twirling around the drapes were those same long shadows as the trees had made.
The sun... Scar thought, blinking once at the statue. It was incredibly late, and not to mention dangerous, to be walking through the deep woods of a village that he wasn’t even familiar with the name of yet. He still remembered the reason he had to move out of his original village, valid reasons to be completely honest. Scar shrugged off thoughts of the past and turned to leave. He still had time to get back to the village before the sun went down, if he sped walk of course.
The brunette turned around to leave, letting the branches that he was holding to see the statue snap close with a brustle, the suspense in the air came dropped significantly once he had done so. He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding, feeling a shudder run down his back as he thought back to the statue. “I'll have to come back tomorrow…” he mumbled, setting foot off into the woods again.
Scar clumsily climbed over tree branches that were sticking out of the ground almost to trip up travelers on purpose. He quickly popped out his compass, spinning in a circle to see where he was in accordance with the village. The statue was East, and the village was straight North. Scar took in all the night sights on his journey back to the village, the walk was peaceful; the night sounds of animals hooting and yipping came back, and the sunset left a gorgeous reddish hue on the clouds, with a purple for those farther away. But the sun went down rapidly.
As he neared the edge of the forest, he started seeing the light of houses and other buildings peaking through the trees. Scar popped through the trees into the clearing, seeing the village only a hundred or so feet away, surrounded by its large wooden gate. The moon now hung quietly in the gorgeous starry sky, looming over the small village, the sun now sleeping away. He quickly waddled over to the gates, saying small greetings to the guards who stood firmly on either side of them. When the guards didn't even pay him any attention he dropped it, sighing dramatically. When he first arrived here, he realized the village was empty around this hour. He continued on, looking around the square, where vendors were finishing cleaning up for the day, some already walking away from their stands with cases of their products.
Now, Scar wasn't one to devote himself to a single god, but he always did say his thanks whenever he moved into a new village — usually on the first day — but he had been forgetful. He made his way towards the temple, a grand peristyle colonnade surrounding it, made of marble and interlined with a black rock which seemed like obsidian. Scar ran his hand on the cold stone as he walked into the temple, tracing the black lines that contrasted so nicely with the marble. The inside wasn't huge; rows of seats, an altar that stood at the very back of the temple, and a huge stained glass window that sat right above the altar.
The window was fully black other than a half moon that was depicted in a series of white and gray stained glass pieces. The actual moon was full right behind the window, which sort of ruined the ‘half moon’ effect that the mosaic gave. Scar could imagine himself witnessing such a sight. He suspected that the people of this town worship the moon on specific days of the lunar cycle. Those that the moon would be huge, while only being half filled. Scar laughed softly, the sound echoing through the empty temple. He made his way to the altar, bending down slightly to read a title of a god he didn't recognize, next to the title however, was a name that was scratched out fiercely.
“... Goddess of the moon and betrayal.” Scar read out loud, the words seeming heavy and leaving an empty feeling in his stomach. Just as he reached his hand to caress the deep scratches, another pair of footsteps – which sounded more like clopping of a horse to him — echoed through the temple. Scar pulled his hand away from the altar and stood back to his full length, turning his head to look at the arrival.
“You really shouldn't touch anything in a temple,” the person started, still walking towards him, they continued, “They say that the goddess who rules over this temple put a curse on everything that has to do with her altar. Whoever touches her things will be haunted by her cries for the rest of their life.”