As the door was opened with great force of will—showing the truth buried for centuries. None, none of the two spirits was able to find his voice. For once, everything felt shattered.
A sight. A sight that no mortal could bear. Only bloodshed remained.
The cave, once hollow—full of sorrow, now filled with blood and tears.
The weight is heavy—but this is the damnation of temptation.
Viour—finally could bear his voice, though it was almost full of pain. "For the love of gods," his voice crackled.
"This is the price we sought to pay, to open what should not be, to not resist the temptation of damnation," quoth Yvole.
"If this is the price—then why has Fate woven our destiny into one?" said Viour. His curiosity laid hold upon his heart. His footsteps echoed in the silent cave, analysing the sight bestowed upon him.
The sight, perhaps—was full of dead bodies, blood scattered everywhere, and a symbol was drawn.
This is the story, the sonorous voice that keeps it alive. This is the truth that was veiled from ancient times. The hidden truth of the Lauren Valley of hearts.
"Careful—bravo spirit," warned Yvole.
Viour—unable to restrain his curiosity now stood ere the symbol—touching it so tenderly.
"This—is the hidden truth, dearer poet. Fate has stumbled us upon the truth," whispered Viour.
Anon—a fierce wind came, raging furiously as if the chamber had been touched.
Viour and Yvole were astonied by the wind—blowing everything furiously, a small tornado created by blood and fear.
In a moment, Viour, without forethought, stepped on another symbol of the cave—it glowed luxuriously. Yvole, unable to perceive what was happening—was yanked by Viour.
Fear greeted them both—one holding another like a thread of lifetime. Only the glow of the symbol spoke—and the fiery wind.
Thereafter—as the symbol's light illuminated the cave, they both—holding each other like a thread of lifetime, found themselves in an unfamiliar place.
"Tropical forest?" Yvole mused.
"It seems like this wind has brought us to show something that should not have been seen," said Viour—he slowly let go of Yvole and watched Yvole touching the plants and nature surrounding them.
A rustle was heard nearby—there appeared a small weird‑looking creature. A small orange fox—with a horn.
Yvole approached the fox slowly, wisely—not wanting to scare it away.
"Little fox," quoth he, ere continuing, "why are you alone?" asked Yvole.
Viour watched Yvole and the weird‑looking fox interaction, half amused and half annoyed.
However the fox, now so small—looked over Yvole with great awe. It circled around Yvole and purred.
Yvole was amused by the fox's actions—he patted the fox slowly and gently only for the fox to grow a flame on its head.
Yvole stumbled back with a great shock and Viour, ever so curious now cautious with the fox, slowly placed his hand at Yvole's waist—yanking Yvole back to his side.
Both of them watched the now burning fox—though it felt unnatural—the fox showed no sign of pain.