Tragedy of Divinity

Chapter 11: The City of Jill

The Nexus, with its shifting landscapes and unimaginable horrors, had always been a place of dread and despair. But, as they walked further into its heart, Seraphine and Quintin found themselves standing at the edge of something unexpected—a city. Not just any city, but a place that appeared almost normal, at least at first glance.

The city of Jill.

From a distance, it seemed to shimmer with a strange kind of clarity. The buildings, tall and stately, were made of dark stone with intricate carvings lining the edges, resembling both Victorian and medieval architecture. It was as though the city had stepped out of a dream—a memory of a past life, one that was forgotten but still faintly remembered.

"I didn't expect to see something like this here," Quintin muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the skyline, taking in the fine details of the stonework, the meticulous layout of the streets, and the gentle hum of life that seemed to vibrate from within.

"Neither did I," Seraphine replied, her voice tinged with curiosity. Her usual cold demeanor was softened by the peculiar sight before them. The city seemed like a peaceful oasis in the chaotic, nightmarish world of the Nexus. It was a place out of time—a place that didn't seem to belong.

As they ventured closer, the peaceful atmosphere became even more apparent. The people of Jill were dressed in finely tailored coats, waistcoats, and skirts, their attire a stark contrast to the raggedness and madness that plagued the rest of the Nexus. They walked the cobbled streets with purpose, but there was no haste—only a calm, almost serene air to their movements.

"We should go in," Seraphine said, her voice softening as she scanned the peaceful crowd. "We need answers, and there's a chance we'll find something here."

Quintin nodded, his curiosity piqued. He had learned to be cautious in the Nexus, where things could change in an instant, but there was something about Jill that felt different—safe, even. It was a feeling he wasn't used to, and it made him hesitate for a moment before stepping forward.

As they entered the city's gates, the atmosphere shifted. The hum of the city grew louder, and they could hear the soft clinking of horse-drawn carriages and the quiet murmur of conversations that drifted from the nearby market stalls. The air smelled faintly of flowers and freshly baked bread, the kind of aroma that was comforting and familiar.

The people of Jill seemed unbothered by their presence. No one stared or whispered, and yet it was impossible to shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. There was a kind of artificial tranquility here, a serenity that seemed almost too perfect.

"I don't trust this," Quintin muttered, his instincts on edge. "It's too quiet. Too peaceful."

Seraphine was silent for a moment, her gaze flickering to the street corners and the figures that passed by. It was true—there was something uncanny about this place. The people here seemed happy, but too happy, like actors in a play performing roles they didn't fully understand. They greeted one another with polite smiles, but their eyes… their eyes lacked the depth of true emotion. There was a vacancy behind them—a hollow, mechanical quality.

"We'll have to tread carefully," Seraphine finally said, her voice low but firm. "This place might seem normal, but in the Nexus, nothing is ever as it seems."

They continued through the city, weaving between the cobbled streets and narrow alleyways, until they reached the heart of Jill. At its center stood a large plaza, dominated by an imposing stone fountain that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. The water that cascaded down its tiers shimmered in the pale light, casting eerie reflections across the plaza.

A few people gathered around the fountain, their expressions blank but serene as they stared into the water. Seraphine and Quintin exchanged a wary glance. It was as if the fountain itself was drawing them in, pulling them closer with an unseen force.

"Do you feel that?" Quintin asked, his voice barely a whisper. The air around them seemed to hum with energy, and his skin tingled with the sensation of something ancient and powerful, lurking beneath the surface of this seemingly peaceful city.

"I do," Seraphine replied. "But we can't afford to get distracted. We need to find someone who can explain what's going on here."

They approached the fountain cautiously, keeping a safe distance from the people gathered around it. Seraphine's sharp eyes scanned the area for any sign of danger, while Quintin's mind raced, trying to piece together the mystery of Jill.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the stillness, soft and melodic.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

Seraphine turned to see an elderly man standing nearby, his weathered face creased with age but his eyes bright and sharp. He wore a long, flowing cloak of dark purple, embroidered with gold thread that shimmered in the faint light.

"Not exactly," Seraphine replied, her voice cool and measured. "We're just passing through. We're looking for someone who can tell us about this place."

The man smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Ah, I see. You're curious about Jill, aren't you? Most people are. But be warned—curiosity can be dangerous in this city. It's not all it appears to be."

Seraphine raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

The man's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it—only a strange, unsettling calm. "Jill is a place of peace, yes. But peace comes at a price. The more you seek, the more you risk losing yourself to it. You may find what you're looking for, but in the end, Jill finds what it's looking for in you."

With that, he turned and vanished into the crowd, leaving Seraphine and Quintin standing in stunned silence.

"That's not ominous at all," Quintin muttered, shaking his head.

Seraphine didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed on the fountain once more, her mind racing with the implications of what she had just heard. Peace, at a price. The thought gnawed at her, filling her with a cold sense of foreboding.

"Let's move," she said, her voice steady but filled with resolve. "We need to find out what Jill really is. And we need to do it before it finds out what we are."

End of Chapter 11.