Everyone has a road in life.

A group of five armed people is seen, walking through a dense forest. One is wearing a dull grey plate-armour in addition to a sword and shield. Slightly in front of him is a dark form, clad in dark leather with a deep green cloak, melding into the forest, sometimes when he moves, a bow is visible in his hand, or the quiver on his hip.

Behind the armoured fighter, walk two lightly armoured figures, one is carrying an ornate mace, or maybe it should be called a sceptre with a head shaped like a golden apple, while the other is using a long staff to keep the greenery away from him.

The rearguard is a second fighter, this one with lighter armour; only a chain mail is visible while they walk by, and he carries a large, two-handed axe on his shoulder.

The image shifts to a large, open theatre. On the stage is are two masked figures, one wearing a black cloak, the other a white gown. The audience room is empty, only few people are moving around, preparing things.

Again, the image shifts. This time, it is a dark, snowy mountainside. Two black-cloaked figures creep through the snow until they reach a ridge and look into a crater illuminated by a bonfire. Various colourful birds nest in the cliffs around and a single woman dances in the fire-light.

The image shifts again. A farmer stands tall, surrounded by fields of golden wheat and leaning on his scythe. In the distance, trees with colourful leaves are visible. The viewpoint shifts back, showing rolling hills, filled with various fields and farmers harvesting.

Once more, the image shifts. A long line of riders assembles on a hill, looking down the slope and lining up. A single rider with a golden helmet rides out front, drawing a sabre and raising it high in the sky. The line bangs their fists on their armoured chests in response.

Another shift. A solemn, high cathedral, filled with empty pews. A group of white-robed clerics walks down the aisle, slowly, solemnly moving to the high altar up front. The sun filters through the high windows, bathing the nave in colourful light. The windows are decorated with images of golden apples, lightning, warriors holding spears and flaming swords battling monsters and a tall tree, encompassing the world with its roots.

For some, the road is smooth.

The farmer is seen again, loading bundles of wheat onto a horse-drawn cart with the help of a farmhand. Both are smiling and carrying on and enjoying the glorious sunset in the distance. They mount their cart, wishing farewell to their neighbors as they head back to their homestead.

The image shifts back to the cathedral, the clerics reached the altar and slowly the pews fill with worshippers as they enter the nave. Soft choral music fills the air. Candles fill the air with a different kind of glow. Up front, a cleric leads the choir in worship to praise the gods.

The image shifts and the cavalry on the hill is seen again. The leader up front is slowly riding back and forth, shouting out words of encouragement to his troops. He then starts to ride down the row, clanging his sabre against each spear as he passes his men.

For others, the road is winding and rocky.

A huge, dark monster tries to bowl the ranger over. The fighter just manages to step in, blocking the attack with his shield but getting pushed back. The monster looks like a nightmarish cross between a large cat and a dinosaur: four legs, all sporting wicked claws, and a large maw filled with razor-sharp teeth.

The monster tries to get around the fighter, feinting left only to get blocked by the axe of the second fighter. For a moment, stillness rules. A birds-cry echoes through the forest, shattering the silence and motion returns. The monster leaps back, with the two fighters sticking with it, trying to keep it contained so the ranger can land his strikes. Meanwhile, the two casters create glowing formations in the air, the one with the sceptre illuminating the forest with a warm, golden light and muttering chants and prayers under his breath. The golden glow falls upon the plate-armour wearing fighter, closing his wounds and reenergizing him.

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The other figure draws brightly glowing, turquoise patterns into the air. As one of the patterns flashes, the turquoise glow centres around the ranger as he nocks an arrow. The glow gathers around the arrow and as it is launched, it draws a glowing trace into the air, striking the monster in the shoulder and penetrating deeply into it. The monster growls, and its claws shine for a moment, before it launches a rapid series of attacks against the two fighters. The shield-bearer manages to weather the attacks, his partner not so much; one of the later strikes hits his head and knocks him into the foliage.

The image changes, back to the snowy mountainside. The two black cloaked figures are moving into the light, joining the dance with the white-robed woman. A thin mist springs up around them and turns into floating snowflakes. Clear laughter rings out and the fire burns brighter, jumping up and flickering around. The snowflakes start to rise and both, the fire and the snow start to twist around each other, never clashing but moving back in forth, keeping time with the almost obscured dancers within the crater. Now, figures of flame and shadow seem to join the dance, the shadows following the movement of the dark cloaked figures, the flames following the lead of the white robed one. The howling wind almost sounds like music as it echoes in the small crater.

Faster and faster goes the dance, turning into an eddy of fire and ice.

The image changes again, to the theatre. The seats are filled and the white-gowned lady is singing, lamenting the loss of her love. The black-cloaked man is in the back, seemingly chained. The opera continues, the female lead stands in front of a mirror, lamenting her lost love. On the other side of the mirror, the black cloaked man stands, now free of the chains. After the lady is finished with her lament, the man starts, raging against fate and the cruelty of the world. Their singing continues until they both turn, standing face to face, singing in harmony. They come together, dancing and continuing their song. At one point, the female stumbles for a moment but it is hardly noticeable for the audience.

But in the end...

The image changes back, showing the cathedral. The clerics and the choir loudly sing a hymn and the congregation is on their knees, praying. Above them, a thin, golden mist collects with the fervor of their prayer. The mist seeps into the objects of worship the clerics are holding.

The image changes to the snowy mountainside. As the figures dance with each other, whirling around each other, the eddy grows and the howling wind turns into a transcendental song of fire and ice. The dancing grows more frantic as if both sides try to push the other back, causing slight clashes between fire and ice, adding to the mystery of the situation. Both sides hang in balance, preserving the harmony in this contradiction.

The image changes to the farmer. He and the farmhand are now at a large barn, unloading their cart. A woman walks out of the farmhouse with a dog on her side and gives the farmer a hug and a soft kiss. Both embrace for a moment, smiling. After they break apart, the woman watches the two men for a moment before walking back in. The dog roams around the yard for a moment before following her back in.

The image changes again, back to the theatre. The whole house gives the actors a standing ovation as the actors bow and leave the stage. Behind the stage, man starts berating the woman, not even waiting to take off their costumes. The criticism is harsh and biting and continues until the woman turns away, leaving the man behind. She walks back to her dressing room and takes of her mask and for a moment, a tear-stained face is visible under the mask.

The image changes back to the hill-side. The leader is in the middle of the formation and raises his sabre. With a loud shouted command, the whole line starts charging down the hill, towards an infantry-formation. It only takes moments for them to reach them and the impact scatters the formation, driving them apart.

The image changes back to the forest. The chanting grows louder and the ranger leaps forward, trying to take the fighter’s place in containing the monster. Now unfettered from the second fighter, it easily manages to disengage and flee into the forest. All four rush into the foliage, looking for their wounded comrade. As they find him, his face is a mangled mess, causing the cleric to franticly chant his devotions, trying to stem the flow of blood and save his comrade.

… it doesn’t even matter.

Because all roads lead to Purgatory!

The world is shown, with ghostly, blue flames racing across the globe before surrounding the whole world with a glowing aura of blue fire.

Find your own road and join us.

On the Road to Purgatory.