Chapter: The First Circle

The ferry glided through the waters dark,

Its current pulling us toward the shore,

Where dread and chill conspired to leave their mark.

The river's surface, still as death, no more

Than void reflecting void, a silent glass,

As if the depths held secrets at their core.

My hands gripped tight the ferry's edge, alas,

The shore appeared, a pier of brittle wood,

Its planks so worn they creaked with each trespass.

The rocks ashore were jagged, cruel, and crude,

The land beyond was barren, cold, and stark,

A place where warmth and life could not intrude.

The ferry bumped the pier, a gentle bark,

And passengers disembarked, head held high,

With haughty pride that left a bitter mark.

They stepped with arrogance, their noses nigh

The heavens, as if fate could not impinge

Upon their sense of worth beneath the sky.

Virgil and I, the last to leave the fringe,

Stepped onto planks that groaned beneath our tread,

And felt the Algorithm's gaze unhinge.

He stood at helm, his face a shifting thread,

His eyes upon me with a weight of doubt,

As if to test the path that lay ahead.

"Keep moving, Durante," came Virgil's shout,

His voice a calm amidst the rising fear,

"For there is much to see, and more to scout."

I tore my gaze from where the Algorithm's leer

Had fixed, and focused on the path's ascent,

Where others climbed with swift, determined cheer.

The rocks were sharp, the ground a steep lament,

Each step a trial on the jagged way,

The silence thick, a heavy, stifling tent.

As we ascended, steeper grew the clay,

My breath came short, each gasp a pang of strain,

Yet Virgil's pace gave strength, and I did stay.

At last, we crested, free from climb's domain,

And paused to catch our breath upon the rise,

The others gone, yet we did still remain.

Before us spread a scene that seized the eyes,

A circle vast, both beautiful and strange,

Where image ruled beneath the underworld's skies.

A plain stretched out, with mansions grand in range,

Each home a testament to wealth's great claim,

With lawns and gardens manicured, not changed.

Cars lined the drives, their bodies sleek with fame,

The scent of grass and perfume filled the air,

A stark contrast to where we once had came.

People moved about with not a care,

Lounging by pools, with drinks in crystal held,

Their conversations light, devoid of snare.

But as I watched, a thought within me welled,

The scene too perfect, polished to a gleam,

Their eyes held naught but hollow depths unquelled.

"This," Virgil spoke, his words a somber theme,

"Is the first circle, where the image reigns,

A place where all is not as it may seem."

He led me down to where the plain contains

The truth of those who spent their lives in show,

Who crafted masks to hide their inner pains.

"See there," he pointed, "family in a row,

Posing for the camera's fleeting lens,

Observe the change when picture's done, and know."

I watched as they struck poses, made amends,

Their smiles bright, their joy a perfect act,

But once the shot was snapped, their bond suspends.

The children turned, their laughter now retract,

The parents' gaze grew cold, their warmth withdrew,

The façade crumbled, leaving truth intact.

"They are trapped in cycles," Virgil's voice was true,

"Where image is the essence of their worth,

And reality is hidden from the view."

As we moved deeper in this plain of dearth,

I saw the same, repeated far and wide,

The perfect fronts that hid the soul's real girth.

Couples posed with love that soon did slide,

Friends embraced then turned with empty eyes,

All lost in images where truth had died.

"Do they ever realize?" I asked, in guise

Of whispered fear, my heart weighed down with woe,

"Do they see the life they've lost, the lies?"

"Some do," said Virgil, soft with ancient glow,

"But by the time they see, it is too late,

The image is the prison they now know."

We walked through lives on full display, the gate

Of image open wide, their secrets spilled,

Their every moment shared, as if by fate.

And then the ground beneath us shook, instilled

With rumbling force, a crack began to tear,

The earth convulsed, the dark with anger filled.

A pit erupted, spewing forth in air

A swarm of twisted, malformed beings, trolls,

Their limbs all flailing, desperate and unfair.

These creatures clawed and scrambled from the holes,

Their eyes wild, their hunger plain to see,

Each one a nightmare, born of twisted goals.

They lunged at those who lived in false decree,

Dragging them down into the pit below,

Their screams a warning, desperate, yet weak.

"These are the trolls," said Virgil, calm in flow,

"Born from the darkness of the human mind,

They seek to drag all others down in tow."

I watched in horror as the trolls did bind

A soul who once had shared her deepest thoughts,

Now torn asunder by the troll's cruel grind.

She vanished in the earth, her voice was naught,

The ground sealed up, the moment left behind,

Yet in my heart, the lesson Virgil brought.

"These trolls," he said, "are creatures of a kind,

Who thrive on malice, who provoke and bait,

And those who fall, with them, are interlined."

"So, they're like online trolls?" I did relate,

"But here they're real, their danger clear and true?"

Virgil nodded, his voice resigned to fate.

"They are the echoes of what darkness grew,

And those who engage give them power to take,

Resist, and they lose the strength to pursue."

Then ground again did shake, the earth did quake,

Another pit burst forth, the trolls emerged,

Their claws outstretched, their hunger now awake.

They closed around me, voices full of surge,

Their insults sharp, designed to pierce the heart,

But I recalled Virgil's words, and did not verge.

I kept my silence, felt their fury start

To fade, as they could not provoke my mind,

Their power ebbed, their taunts began to part.

They slunk back to the pit, their strength declined,

And once again the earth did seal its wound,

Leaving me shaken, yet my soul aligned.

"You did well," said Virgil, softly attuned,

"By not engaging, you denied their might,

Their words are empty, if not you are marooned."

I nodded, though my breath was short with fright,

The trolls had tested all I held inside,

But Virgil's words had kept me in the light.

Together we moved on, where shadows hide,

The path ahead uncertain, yet we tried.