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Description
A traveller walking along the road that many have worn out since history began.
They stopped before the fork in the road that leads into two seperate entries to the forest.
Pitch dark. The brooding eyes of the forest did nothing to calm the nerves.
The night had almost descended and covered the road with a constant shadow of the sun.
The warmth of it all replaced by a sharp cold breeze. If it had an edge, surely the traveller would bleed to death by the cuts of the wind.
Stuck between the paths of the explored and the unknown darkness. It had become their own purgatory within a hell.
That hell became a minute reality as a flicker of flame burst from out of mid-air. Engulfing a space of another, a spirit of sorts had been beckoned.
Wrapped in a wreath of flames that could easily decimate anything it touched. Not even the traveller could keep their gaze on it long for fear of having their eyes burned at the sight.
And the will that manifested inside that spirit started to surround the traveller, with hints to lead them astray to each of the three paths.
The dominant green burning fire being dyed with a purple tinge would attract any gaze set upon it yet the destructive nature of it would consume any that would dare come near.
Enticed and entranced, the traveller followed the spirit around as it sped through each of the paths. Determined to chase down the flames as if it were some desire within grasp.
Yet the traveller never did catch it. Leading them away from where they needed to go and instead wanting them to catch the flames of desire instead.
The will of the wisps are understandable on first look but cannot be understood after once someone chases the flames along the blazing road they walk.