Through The Fog

June turned around and met the ghostly face of the man once more, this time with a tentative look on his face.

'What's he on about?'

"Ignore it, June. Mortals like us should never trust anything that's as desperate as this Spirit."

Gemm seemed to ignore the Shackled Spirits comment, simply brushing it away.

June looked over his shoulders to where Gemm stood, her hand resting on her scabbard.

She seemed apprehensive… as though the Spirit's words were a threat rather than an offer. Of course, she could be right, but June felt different.

"What do you mean, Spirit?"

June turned back toward the man and asked.

He wanted to hear him out, at least. Surely it wouldn't hurt to do so.

"June!"

Yet, before he could, Gemm interfered, walking back toward him.

Her steps were subtle yet echoed throughout the foggy space they stood within.

"What do you think you're doing?

Her eyes darted between the Spirit and June.

"I warned you before, do not meddle with things that you don't understand, didn't I?"

She glared at him.

"This Spirit is treacherous, I'm sure of it. In fact, anything besides me and you is such. We cannot trust it."

Gemm let go of her scabbard and pointed at the lingering Spirit. June looked over to the man for a moment, then redirected his attention back toward Gemm.

He reminded himself that Gemm was someone who had lived within the Infinite Purgatory for a year, and had experienced things far worse than he could imagine.

As a result, she knew more than him… in every aspect. However, this was different.

This wasn't about the Shackled Spirit deceiving them in any way. If it wanted to, it could, sure. 

This was about Gemm's trust issues, something June had long grown aware of.

"Trust? Like you trust me?"

June retorted, keeping his voice calm and emotionless as best he could.

"What?"

Gemm seemed surprised, taking a step back and looking at him as if she had heard him wrong.

"Why can't we just hear him out, see what he has to say? I mean, what if he's right? What if we really can't get through that fog without him? Then what? We'd be lost with no way out… we'd die. All because you refused to trust the words of a Shackled Spirit that simply desires to pass in peace."

June finished, shrugging.

Compared to her, he didn't see why it was such a big deal to avoid the Spirit. If they were to balance the scales, wouldn't it be wiser to put their trust in a Spirit that has been bound to this Dimension for far longer than any other rather than try their luck in the fog, traversing in one direction without a clue as to what awaits them ahead?

Sure, they hadn't encountered any mishaps so far, but that was because they barely made any progress through the fog in the first place.

If anything, weren't they rather lucky to run into this Spirit? June felt so. Gemm, though, did not in the slightest.

"Do you se—"

"The boy's right…"

The Spirit finally chose to intervene, cutting Gemm off before she could finish.

They both turned back toward it.

"I do not blame thee for thy suspicion, but without completing my favor, thy will indeed die out in that fog. In truth, the fog… is not merely fog."

June's brows lifted in intrigue, immediately asking:

"What is it then?"

He ignored Gemm who still seemed a bit ticked off, his attention glued to the Spirit.

The Spirit tapped its translucent chin softly with its cloudy finger, staring out into the distance.

"It is not natural… rather, it's an abundance of souls that have been warped into whispers, turning them from sentient beings to clouds of ash… whispering tales that are bound to infect those who listen too closely. Which is why, the further thy go, the more thy sanity shall wane — thus claiming thy life, and snatching thy soul which soon becomes one with the fog."

Chills ran down June's spine as he absorbed the Spirit's words. Instinctively, he looked at the fog that currently surrounded them, drifting through the air.

'These are… souls?'

He reached out and tried to grasp a plume of fog, but only grasped air, creating a distinct sweep that split through for a partial moment.

"So then, how exactly are we supposed to prevent becoming a part of this fog? What's the favor that'll ensure our success in getting through it?" June asked.

The Spirit made it clear that without completing its favor, they'd be doomed.

"Ah, well, it is rather simple."

The man paused for a moment, readjusting his ghostly body.

"Traverse to the east… conquer the hidden temple, and destroy the sacred altar. Once thee have accomplished such will the fog dissipate, setting free the lost souls. Alongside them, I shall also be set free, succumbing to my long awaited death."

He finished, holding his hands together.

June lingered for a bit, turning toward Gemm who had remained silent for quite some time now.

'Hmm…'

June himself trusted the Spirit… he felt his words held substance, refusing to believe them as mere lies. Not only through his words either, but from what they had experienced just the other night. The whispers… they had to have some correlation to the fog.

Without waiting for Gemm to speak, he replied:

"Alright, we'll do that."

His answer prompted a look of concern from Gemm. However, she didn't refute the idea any longer.

It seems like the Spirit's knowledge had changed her mind, and thankfully so.

"Thank you kind souls… I will remember thee, mortals. Ah! Before I go… be sure to remember, the path to the Hidden Temple is guarded by many."

The Spirit bowed deeply before dissolving into thin air, leaving them standing in front of a lone skeleton once more.

With a sigh, Gemm turned away and walked back to the boat. June inspected the skeleton for a few seconds before doing the same.

The favor would definitely be worth it… or so June hoped, but finding a temple within such dense fog was going to be difficult.

Nevertheless, at least it wasn't in the opposite direction from where they had to go.

Otherwise, it'd be a much more lengthy task to accomplish.

Before long, they got back onto the rowboat and ventured east. Gemm still held the oar, guiding them, while June sat idly by… surveying his surroundings.

He was still coming to terms with the concept of the fog itself, so he appeared a bit paranoid.