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[Words of the Savior]

                Days passed and the ship traveled the distance from Knott to Edonbara. Everyone went about their works, tending the crew, cleaning the vessel they now called home. Though Belix had her share of trouble dealing with Lydia, they did eventually manage to work out a flight path to reach the intended destination, and even Evie seemed to be brightening up, if only a little. They arrived at the desert village a little after sunset but skirted around it to avoid the harbor patrols and set down on a beach set around the east side of the island.

                Belix called a meeting, and they planned their next move.

“Okay,” she mentioned while pacing around the dining room, “So, how do we find this lighthouse anyway?”

“We don’t,” Lydia responded calmly, “It will find us.”

“Are you fucking…”

“No, I’m joking actually,” the older woman scoffed and pulled out one of her books, “There’s a bit of a hike, and an entrance leading into a cavern, but, um, the key to getting in is the kid over here.”

                All eyes turned to Sylvester who only shrugged.

“Apparently it needs a certain energy signature in order to open,” he explained, “Otherwise it’s just…unbreakable rock…”

“I could just portal through,” Clyde suggested, “Open it from the inside?”

“I…don’t think that’s how it works,” Lydia explained, “The barrier’s as much mystical as it is physical and, even if you make it through…”

“Well, that brings me to my next point,” Clyde raised his hand, “What do you actually need me for? You never explained why the Hell I’m here.”

“No, we just never explained your specific use,” Lydia corrected him, “But, don’t worry, it’s not something we’ve got to handle right now, we can discuss it once we get the hard part done.”

“Second point of order,” Belix broke in, “I’m not abandoning my ship on this beach, so, somebody’s got to volunteer to stay behind, maybe a couple of somebodies?”

“Well, you need me for directions,” Lydia shrugged, waving her book around, “The kid to open the door, and our friend here for the finale…”

“I’ll stay,” Evie insisted, “My powers are more suited to guarding the ship and…” she looked around, “Everyone else here has got a score to settle.”

“Well…you’re not wrong,” Belix agreed, then looked around the room, “Any objections?”

                There were a few murmurs of ascent, though Granger remained silent, no one seemed to complain. Belix nodded in agreement and banged her fist against the table like a gavel.

“Alright, then that’s ten minute warning people,” she declared, “Take a piss, get your shit together, and meet me downstairs when you’re done.”

                With something that could only be described as grim determination, they all stood from their seats and filed out. All but Granger, who remained where he was, Belix waited politely for the others to leave before approaching him.

“Somethin’ wrong big guy?” she asked, sitting next to him.

“I’m staying on the ship,” he responded simply.

“…Okay…that’s a bit outta nowhere…Can I ask why?”

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, “But…” Granger looked towards the exit and sighed, “She…we’ve been talking and…and I honestly feel like I can do some good if I stay here, but, if I go with you…I’d just be deadweight.”

“Never,” Belix told him as sincerely as possible.

“…you know how powerful that thing is,” Granger continued morosely, “It aint gonna be you, and it aint gonna be me what takes ‘im down.”

“Maybe not, but we can still carve a pound of flesh of that prick if we’ve got to.”

“Then you do it!” Granger snapped, “You dig as deep as you can, and you make it fucking hurt!”

“…for Lynnie,” Belix nodded, then looked up at her oldest living friend, “You’re sure about this?”

“I’m a big guy with a mechanical arm,” he sighed, “But you’re their captain, they need you there.”

                Belix stood up and gave her friend a hug.

“You’re not a coward,” she whispered to him, “You’re just a touch more stable than I am.”

“…thank you…” he responded, and she gave him a pat on the back before they separated.

“Hold down the fort buddy, we’ll be back.”

                Over in the barracks, Clyde opened his suitcase and started pulling out an almost ridiculous number of sharp edged weapons. He was giving them a once over and slotting them into holsters on a utility belt when he noticed Zeesa staring at him.

“What?” he demanded.

“You brought a sling blade,” she noticed.

“I like having options.”

“You think we’re going to be harvesting wheat?”

“Honestly, at this point, I’m not really sure…” he paused, noticing a crowd of the shrimps leaking in from the doorway.

                They approached slowly, cautiously, scuttling towards Clyde’s feet.

“You’re leaving?” Stitch mentioned as she approached.

“That’s what they’re telling me,” Clyde shrugged, then smirked, “Don’t worry, we’ll be back.”

“But…” she wondered sheepishly and gently tugged at his pant leg, “Can we say goodbye?”

“Oh, right,” he collected his cufflinks and breathed some life into them, then lay the golden spiders on the ground.

                The Shrimps crowded closer, tapping their claws against the legs of the Spiders, a little handshake they had developed over the past few days. Clyde looked at them and smirked out the corner of his mouth, happy for them, but not really understanding the ritual, he went back to examining his weapons. While he was busy with that, Stitch peeled away from the crowd and climbed onto his shoulder.

“That looks sharp,” she commented as he tested the edge of a knife.

“It is,” he commented, holstering the blade, “So don’t play with it.”

“Oh…” she lowered her head, “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

“No,” he responded, setting aside his weapons and pulling Stitch off of his shoulder, “Because, I’m a guest here, and a guest doesn’t say ‘goodbye’,” he set her on the ground and knelt before the crowd of Shrimps, head bowed, “He says ‘Thank you for your hospitality, I very much enjoyed my stay’,” he raised his head, then reached out and gave Stitch a pat on the head before standing up, “Let’s do it again sometime.”

                Once again, he noticed Zeesa staring at him and shrugged at her. Closing his eyes, he held out his hand and waited for the Spiders to respond. In the blink of an eye, they leapt from the ground and attached themselves to his arm, winding their threads, golden and black across his hand until they had formed a garmet that spread over his body like running water. It covered him head to toe with the only gaps being around his eyes, fingers and shoes. He finished the ensemble with the utility belt, a pair of gloves, a cloak, a triangular hat, and a pair of yellow tinted goggles that turned the glow from his eyes a distinctive green color.

                While the Shrimps were watching in awe, Zeesa could barely hide the distain in her voice as she shook her head.

“You wear That into battle?” she demanded.

“It’s fire proof, bullet proof, stab resistant…”

“You look like an idiot.”

“Matter of opinion,” Clyde mentioned offhandedly as he closed his suitcase, “Function still beats out form, not all of us can turn into sharks you know.”

                He exited the room without a backward glance, the Shrimps parting to make way for him as he left. Offended, Zeesa quickly grabbed her weapons, a pair of jade axes, and caught up with him out in the hall.

“Out of curiosity,” he mentioned as she approached, “Why are you following me around?”

“I’m not, we just happen to be going to the same place and…”

“Bull, shit!” he responded, “You could have gotten those at any time and walked out, instead you’re just waiting around, staring at me.”

“I…” Zeesa decided to give up on lying, “I don’t understand you.”

“It’s a funny thing because neither do I,” Clyde shrugged.

“I’m not joking around,” she insisted, grabbing his arm, “We’ve got to trust each other now, and…frankly, I just don’t understand…why are you here?”

                Clyde rolled his eyes at her, then reached out and flicked her nose. When she let go of him, he turned away and kept right on walking.

“I’m so tired of answering that question,” he muttered before disappearing.

                Down in the hangar bay, Sylvester waited impatiently. Head bowed, he cast several fleeting glanced between the door and the docking ramp. After a few minutes he was joined by Noob and Lydia who both approached him cautiously.

“You alright kid?” Noob asked.

“Nervous is all,” Sylvester responded.

“Hey, don’t forget, this is your plan, we’re just here to help,” Lydia insisted, “Nobody’s forcing you to do it, and we can still back out, I mean, if you’re getting cold feet.”

“You sound scared,” Noob observed.

“…I have a daughter back home…” Lydia responded, a bit of an edge in her voice, “I’d like to see her again.”

“We’re doing this For her,” Sylvester insisted, nodding his head with solemn determination, “That’s why we can’t back out, it’s why…we have to see this through…”

“Whatever gets you there kid,” Noob shrugged, “Just happy to help.”

                He leered at them curiously, then shook his head, deciding to focus on the situation at hand. Then he noticed a cloaked man in a black suit entering the room and an upset looking Zeesa following behind him.

“Wow…” Sylvester joked after seeing her, “I…keep finding out new things about you.”

“It’s Clyde,” she grumbled, brushing past him as she walked across the room.

“Why’s he dressed like that?”

“The fuck do I care…” she muttered, folding her arms.

                A few seconds later Belix arrived, she was busy loading a pistol, one of half a dozen she was carrying on her person, including a pair of rifles slung across her back, and suddenly she came to a halt. her eyes widened after seeing the man dressed in black, she seemed surprised at first, but then started examining him more closely, pensively tapping the barrel of a gun against her chin as she did.

“…huh…” her eyes wafted up and across his body, and she bit down hard on her lower lip, “Mmmmmm, well, it does suit you…”

“You’re chewing a hole in your lip,” Sylvester observed.

“Shut up!” she snapped, but quickly broke from her stupor and holstered the weapon.

“Is the big man comin’ or what?” Noob demanded.

“He would,” Belix shrugged, “But I told him to stay behind with Ev’s, Blondie I mean, best to be prepared in case the natives get restless.”

“You don’t say?” Noob mentioned, then dropped the comment, “Shame is all, bulk like his could probably take a fair few arrows for us.”

“Meaning?” Belix wondered.

“Well, we are invading an ancient temple,” he explained, “I expect a few traps, pitfalls, maybe some poison darts…”

“It’s not that kind of temple,” Lydia supplied, “More a ‘lair of worship’ type of thing, only thing we’ll find in there is a few antechambers and an altar, we approach and we plead our case.”

“To who?” Belix demanded.

“Whoever shows up.”

“Good to know,” Belix nodded and approached Noob, quietly whispering in his ear, “Don’t you ever refer to my friend as a meat shield, Ever, Again!” with her threat made, she stepped back and clapped her hands together, “Now then, we’ll be marching through uneven terrain in an unknown land, keep it standard single file, match the pace, and, if you lose sight of the person in front of you, Call Out! Loud! We’re not leaving anybody behind today.”

“Except for the big guy and the blonde,” Noob joked.

“And I’m perfectly happy with dropping you down a hole when nobody’s looking,” Belix told him coldly, “And, even if they are…well, is anybody actually going to care?” she stepped away and went to open the docking bay doors, “At any rate, Lydia, you’re our compass, so you take point.”

                They took one of the rafts to a nearby island and disembarked. Once on the beach, Lydia conjured up a small floating orb of light, and pulled out one of her books. Using it for direction, she led them into the nearby jungle. Aside from a few curious animals, many of which fled at the sight of a whole troupe of humans, braizenly stomping through the undergrowth, there was no one in impede their forward march. Though, every now and again, Lydia would have to stop, double check her directions, and, twice over had to double back just to keep them on the proper trail. They had started their journey at sunset, but now, with the moon high above and the stars shining down upon them, the group finally arrived at their destination.

                The temple itself was, remarkably unimpressive, barely more than a pyramid, a long trail of stone steps flanked by moldering statues and leading into a small alcove near the top.

“It’s funny,” Sylvester commented, “This thing is huge, you’d think we’d have seen this from the ship…”

“Yeah, that’s the point,” Lydia snapped her book shut loudly, “It’s hidden,” she then turned back to the group and gestured to the temple, “Well? I don’t have to tell you how to use stairs do I?”

                There were a few grumbles, but everyone quickly fell in line and climbed to the top. About halfway up, Sylvester stepped on a python that had been resting on the still warm rocks, but, before it could retaliate, Zeesa easily sliced it in half, spattering him with blood. He muttered some words of gratitude while cleaning a few drops that had frozen to his face, and Belix muttered something about wasting good food as they continued their climb.

“Do you actually eat snakes?” Clyde asked her.

“…every chance I get,” she responded, licking her lips.

“…You know…” he mentioned awkwardly, “That…I’m not…”

“Yeah, I remember, Maggie, wasn’t it?” Belix rolled her eyes, “But, hey, times change, people change, things can happen…let a girl dream huh?”

“…I am with Maggie,” he told her sternly.

“I know…” Belix responded, then added quietly, “Look me up when you’re not,” smirking at him, she added more brightly, “It tastes like chicken by the way.”

“What?”

“Snake,” she explained, “It’s a bit leaner, got a bit of an…umami edge to it, but, yeah, tastes just like chicken.”

                Rolling his eyes, Clyde decided to let the matter drop and, together, they all crested the last step to enter the altar chamber. Once inside, everyone was hit with a sudden and inescapable sense of awe. While the stonework outside was a moldering wreck, rubbed almost smooth by the passage of time, everything within seemed to have been protected in its own little bubble, frozen and kept safe from all else. They could feel sunlight waiting at the edge of the entrance and even hear birds chirping in the distance.

                They marveled at the interior, the burnished gold fastenings and the pristine statues arranged around a central table made of sandstone.

“Well,” Lydia muttered, scratching at her jawline, “That’s the first test down.”

“I thought you said there weren’t any traps?” Belix glared at her.

“I did, these are tests, not the same…” she paused, noticing the intensity with which the elf woman was leering at her, “No danger, I promise, just…assessments.”

“For what?” Zeesa demanded.

“Him,” Lydia pointed to Sylvester, “The Lighthouse will only begin to function when it senses the power of the Disciples.”

“I’m not…” Sylvester started to correct her, then saw the crystallized blood still clinging to his sleeves and grumbled himself into silence, “Okay, so what’s the next step?”

“Um…” she looked over at the sandstone table, “Pretty obvious…”

                With a sigh, he walked over to it and raised his hands, waiting, but nothing happened. With a low groan in his throat, he reached out and slapped the table with his palm. Again, no response, and he was quickly growing agitated.

“Well,” Noob muttered, “This was a long trip for a whole lot of nothing.”

“Help?” Sylvester complained, but Lydia only shook her head.

“It doesn’t have any magic words, it just says ‘the table will recognize you’,” she shrugged, “Maybe it just takes a minute.”

                Mumbling several curses under his breath, Sylvester began to pace around the table, looking at it, and then at the statues as he passed them. Finally, he stopped in front of one in particular, a tall willowy woman with long hair that wrapped around her body several times over. The face calmed him somehow, and he closed his eyes, breathing out an unknowable amount of accumulated stress.

“So…” he whispered, “That’s what you really looked like…”

“Did she ever tell you her name?” a voice echoed through the room like the ringing of a gong, heard and felt in equal measure as it vibrated the very stone around them.

                Sylvester looked back to the table and saw that its surface had changed, now roiling, writhing like a thing alive, then it erupted upwards, birthing a glowing orb of ghastly orange light into existence that hovered in the air above them. As its spewed off an acrid looking smoke, the gas congealed, taking the shape of a robed man wearing a cloak with a wide collar. His features were old, wizened, and stern, he immediately gave off the sense that he was not to be trifled with. Then he leaned back and yawned loudly before plopping himself down on the table, letting his legs dangle off over the edge like child without a care in the world.

“You’ll have to excuse me for my tardiness, it’s been a while since I was last summoned.”

“Uh-huh,” Sylvester watched with some horror as the smoke constructs legs slowly vanished right up to where they met the lip of the table, “Do you know why we’re here?”

“Not at all, no,” the construct smiled.

“Oh…do you know who I am?”

“Some relation to her,” it gestured to the statue, “You were staring at her rather intently.”

“…are…” Lydia blinked in surprise, “Are you…”

“Ah, and there are more then?” it raised its voice, “I’m sorry my dear, you’ll have to step forward, my vision ends outside the range of the circle!”

“You are though,” Sylvester surmised, looking the construct over, “You’re Dante, the man who…”

“No sir, I am not,” it responded sharply, the quickly softening its tone, “I am merely a fragment, a…base copy you might say, with basic reasoning and all the general trappings of being alive, minus the…less obvious parts.”

“Okay…so what do you do here?”

“I control the bridge,” it shrugged, “I raise it, I lower it, not much of a life, but it is mine.”

“Then, could you raise it please?” Sylvester asked, desperately, “There are…we believe that Del’moth may have made it into the library.”

“Oh, my, word, that is quite disturbing,” It responded, though the timbre of its voice never changed, “Unfortunately, my good man, that’s where we hit a bit of a snag, you see, when I say it’s been a while since I was activated, I mean that…I was…NEVER supposed to be activated.”

“And what the Hell does that mean exactly?” Sylvester asked, eyes narrowing.

“Not much more than what it says,” the construct shrugged, “Call it a failsafe if you must, but, simply put, if you want into the library, well, you’ll have to convince me first.”

Description

[Words of the Savior]

                Days passed and the ship traveled the distance from Knott to Edonbara. Everyone went about their works, tending the crew, cleaning the vessel they now called home. Though Belix had her share of trouble dealing with Lydia, they did eventually manage to work out a flight path to reach the intended destination, and even Evie seemed to be brightening up, if only a little. They arrived at the desert village a little after sunset but skirted around it to avoid the harbor patrols and set down on a beach set around the east side of the island.

                Belix called a meeting, and they planned their next move.

“Okay,” she mentioned while pacing around the dining room, “So, how do we find this lighthouse anyway?”

“We don’t,” Lydia responded calmly, “It will find us.”

“Are you fucking…”

“No, I’m joking actually,” the older woman scoffed and pulled out one of her books, “There’s a bit of a hike, and an entrance leading into a cavern, but, um, the key to getting in is the kid over here.”

                All eyes turned to Sylvester who only shrugged.

“Apparently it needs a certain energy signature in order to open,” he explained, “Otherwise it’s just…unbreakable rock…”

“I could just portal through,” Clyde suggested, “Open it from the inside?”

“I…don’t think that’s how it works,” Lydia explained, “The barrier’s as much mystical as it is physical and, even if you make it through…”

“Well, that brings me to my next point,” Clyde raised his hand, “What do you actually need me for? You never explained why the Hell I’m here.”

“No, we just never explained your specific use,” Lydia corrected him, “But, don’t worry, it’s not something we’ve got to handle right now, we can discuss it once we get the hard part done.”

“Second point of order,” Belix broke in, “I’m not abandoning my ship on this beach, so, somebody’s got to volunteer to stay behind, maybe a couple of somebodies?”

“Well, you need me for directions,” Lydia shrugged, waving her book around, “The kid to open the door, and our friend here for the finale…”

“I’ll stay,” Evie insisted, “My powers are more suited to guarding the ship and…” she looked around, “Everyone else here has got a score to settle.”

“Well…you’re not wrong,” Belix agreed, then looked around the room, “Any objections?”

                There were a few murmurs of ascent, though Granger remained silent, no one seemed to complain. Belix nodded in agreement and banged her fist against the table like a gavel.

“Alright, then that’s ten minute warning people,” she declared, “Take a piss, get your shit together, and meet me downstairs when you’re done.”

                With something that could only be described as grim determination, they all stood from their seats and filed out. All but Granger, who remained where he was, Belix waited politely for the others to leave before approaching him.

“Somethin’ wrong big guy?” she asked, sitting next to him.

“I’m staying on the ship,” he responded simply.

“…Okay…that’s a bit outta nowhere…Can I ask why?”

“I don’t want to,” he admitted, “But…” Granger looked towards the exit and sighed, “She…we’ve been talking and…and I honestly feel like I can do some good if I stay here, but, if I go with you…I’d just be deadweight.”

“Never,” Belix told him as sincerely as possible.

“…you know how powerful that thing is,” Granger continued morosely, “It aint gonna be you, and it aint gonna be me what takes ‘im down.”

“Maybe not, but we can still carve a pound of flesh of that prick if we’ve got to.”

“Then you do it!” Granger snapped, “You dig as deep as you can, and you make it fucking hurt!”

“…for Lynnie,” Belix nodded, then looked up at her oldest living friend, “You’re sure about this?”

“I’m a big guy with a mechanical arm,” he sighed, “But you’re their captain, they need you there.”

                Belix stood up and gave her friend a hug.

“You’re not a coward,” she whispered to him, “You’re just a touch more stable than I am.”

“…thank you…” he responded, and she gave him a pat on the back before they separated.

“Hold down the fort buddy, we’ll be back.”

                Over in the barracks, Clyde opened his suitcase and started pulling out an almost ridiculous number of sharp edged weapons. He was giving them a once over and slotting them into holsters on a utility belt when he noticed Zeesa staring at him.

“What?” he demanded.

“You brought a sling blade,” she noticed.

“I like having options.”

“You think we’re going to be harvesting wheat?”

“Honestly, at this point, I’m not really sure…” he paused, noticing a crowd of the shrimps leaking in from the doorway.

                They approached slowly, cautiously, scuttling towards Clyde’s feet.

“You’re leaving?” Stitch mentioned as she approached.

“That’s what they’re telling me,” Clyde shrugged, then smirked, “Don’t worry, we’ll be back.”

“But…” she wondered sheepishly and gently tugged at his pant leg, “Can we say goodbye?”

“Oh, right,” he collected his cufflinks and breathed some life into them, then lay the golden spiders on the ground.

                The Shrimps crowded closer, tapping their claws against the legs of the Spiders, a little handshake they had developed over the past few days. Clyde looked at them and smirked out the corner of his mouth, happy for them, but not really understanding the ritual, he went back to examining his weapons. While he was busy with that, Stitch peeled away from the crowd and climbed onto his shoulder.

“That looks sharp,” she commented as he tested the edge of a knife.

“It is,” he commented, holstering the blade, “So don’t play with it.”

“Oh…” she lowered her head, “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

“No,” he responded, setting aside his weapons and pulling Stitch off of his shoulder, “Because, I’m a guest here, and a guest doesn’t say ‘goodbye’,” he set her on the ground and knelt before the crowd of Shrimps, head bowed, “He says ‘Thank you for your hospitality, I very much enjoyed my stay’,” he raised his head, then reached out and gave Stitch a pat on the head before standing up, “Let’s do it again sometime.”

                Once again, he noticed Zeesa staring at him and shrugged at her. Closing his eyes, he held out his hand and waited for the Spiders to respond. In the blink of an eye, they leapt from the ground and attached themselves to his arm, winding their threads, golden and black across his hand until they had formed a garmet that spread over his body like running water. It covered him head to toe with the only gaps being around his eyes, fingers and shoes. He finished the ensemble with the utility belt, a pair of gloves, a cloak, a triangular hat, and a pair of yellow tinted goggles that turned the glow from his eyes a distinctive green color.

                While the Shrimps were watching in awe, Zeesa could barely hide the distain in her voice as she shook her head.

“You wear That into battle?” she demanded.

“It’s fire proof, bullet proof, stab resistant…”

“You look like an idiot.”

“Matter of opinion,” Clyde mentioned offhandedly as he closed his suitcase, “Function still beats out form, not all of us can turn into sharks you know.”

                He exited the room without a backward glance, the Shrimps parting to make way for him as he left. Offended, Zeesa quickly grabbed her weapons, a pair of jade axes, and caught up with him out in the hall.

“Out of curiosity,” he mentioned as she approached, “Why are you following me around?”

“I’m not, we just happen to be going to the same place and…”

“Bull, shit!” he responded, “You could have gotten those at any time and walked out, instead you’re just waiting around, staring at me.”

“I…” Zeesa decided to give up on lying, “I don’t understand you.”

“It’s a funny thing because neither do I,” Clyde shrugged.

“I’m not joking around,” she insisted, grabbing his arm, “We’ve got to trust each other now, and…frankly, I just don’t understand…why are you here?”

                Clyde rolled his eyes at her, then reached out and flicked her nose. When she let go of him, he turned away and kept right on walking.

“I’m so tired of answering that question,” he muttered before disappearing.

                Down in the hangar bay, Sylvester waited impatiently. Head bowed, he cast several fleeting glanced between the door and the docking ramp. After a few minutes he was joined by Noob and Lydia who both approached him cautiously.

“You alright kid?” Noob asked.

“Nervous is all,” Sylvester responded.

“Hey, don’t forget, this is your plan, we’re just here to help,” Lydia insisted, “Nobody’s forcing you to do it, and we can still back out, I mean, if you’re getting cold feet.”

“You sound scared,” Noob observed.

“…I have a daughter back home…” Lydia responded, a bit of an edge in her voice, “I’d like to see her again.”

“We’re doing this For her,” Sylvester insisted, nodding his head with solemn determination, “That’s why we can’t back out, it’s why…we have to see this through…”

“Whatever gets you there kid,” Noob shrugged, “Just happy to help.”

                He leered at them curiously, then shook his head, deciding to focus on the situation at hand. Then he noticed a cloaked man in a black suit entering the room and an upset looking Zeesa following behind him.

“Wow…” Sylvester joked after seeing her, “I…keep finding out new things about you.”

“It’s Clyde,” she grumbled, brushing past him as she walked across the room.

“Why’s he dressed like that?”

“The fuck do I care…” she muttered, folding her arms.

                A few seconds later Belix arrived, she was busy loading a pistol, one of half a dozen she was carrying on her person, including a pair of rifles slung across her back, and suddenly she came to a halt. her eyes widened after seeing the man dressed in black, she seemed surprised at first, but then started examining him more closely, pensively tapping the barrel of a gun against her chin as she did.

“…huh…” her eyes wafted up and across his body, and she bit down hard on her lower lip, “Mmmmmm, well, it does suit you…”

“You’re chewing a hole in your lip,” Sylvester observed.

“Shut up!” she snapped, but quickly broke from her stupor and holstered the weapon.

“Is the big man comin’ or what?” Noob demanded.

“He would,” Belix shrugged, “But I told him to stay behind with Ev’s, Blondie I mean, best to be prepared in case the natives get restless.”

“You don’t say?” Noob mentioned, then dropped the comment, “Shame is all, bulk like his could probably take a fair few arrows for us.”

“Meaning?” Belix wondered.

“Well, we are invading an ancient temple,” he explained, “I expect a few traps, pitfalls, maybe some poison darts…”

“It’s not that kind of temple,” Lydia supplied, “More a ‘lair of worship’ type of thing, only thing we’ll find in there is a few antechambers and an altar, we approach and we plead our case.”

“To who?” Belix demanded.

“Whoever shows up.”

“Good to know,” Belix nodded and approached Noob, quietly whispering in his ear, “Don’t you ever refer to my friend as a meat shield, Ever, Again!” with her threat made, she stepped back and clapped her hands together, “Now then, we’ll be marching through uneven terrain in an unknown land, keep it standard single file, match the pace, and, if you lose sight of the person in front of you, Call Out! Loud! We’re not leaving anybody behind today.”

“Except for the big guy and the blonde,” Noob joked.

“And I’m perfectly happy with dropping you down a hole when nobody’s looking,” Belix told him coldly, “And, even if they are…well, is anybody actually going to care?” she stepped away and went to open the docking bay doors, “At any rate, Lydia, you’re our compass, so you take point.”

                They took one of the rafts to a nearby island and disembarked. Once on the beach, Lydia conjured up a small floating orb of light, and pulled out one of her books. Using it for direction, she led them into the nearby jungle. Aside from a few curious animals, many of which fled at the sight of a whole troupe of humans, braizenly stomping through the undergrowth, there was no one in impede their forward march. Though, every now and again, Lydia would have to stop, double check her directions, and, twice over had to double back just to keep them on the proper trail. They had started their journey at sunset, but now, with the moon high above and the stars shining down upon them, the group finally arrived at their destination.

                The temple itself was, remarkably unimpressive, barely more than a pyramid, a long trail of stone steps flanked by moldering statues and leading into a small alcove near the top.

“It’s funny,” Sylvester commented, “This thing is huge, you’d think we’d have seen this from the ship…”

“Yeah, that’s the point,” Lydia snapped her book shut loudly, “It’s hidden,” she then turned back to the group and gestured to the temple, “Well? I don’t have to tell you how to use stairs do I?”

                There were a few grumbles, but everyone quickly fell in line and climbed to the top. About halfway up, Sylvester stepped on a python that had been resting on the still warm rocks, but, before it could retaliate, Zeesa easily sliced it in half, spattering him with blood. He muttered some words of gratitude while cleaning a few drops that had frozen to his face, and Belix muttered something about wasting good food as they continued their climb.

“Do you actually eat snakes?” Clyde asked her.

“…every chance I get,” she responded, licking her lips.

“…You know…” he mentioned awkwardly, “That…I’m not…”

“Yeah, I remember, Maggie, wasn’t it?” Belix rolled her eyes, “But, hey, times change, people change, things can happen…let a girl dream huh?”

“…I am with Maggie,” he told her sternly.

“I know…” Belix responded, then added quietly, “Look me up when you’re not,” smirking at him, she added more brightly, “It tastes like chicken by the way.”

“What?”

“Snake,” she explained, “It’s a bit leaner, got a bit of an…umami edge to it, but, yeah, tastes just like chicken.”

                Rolling his eyes, Clyde decided to let the matter drop and, together, they all crested the last step to enter the altar chamber. Once inside, everyone was hit with a sudden and inescapable sense of awe. While the stonework outside was a moldering wreck, rubbed almost smooth by the passage of time, everything within seemed to have been protected in its own little bubble, frozen and kept safe from all else. They could feel sunlight waiting at the edge of the entrance and even hear birds chirping in the distance.

                They marveled at the interior, the burnished gold fastenings and the pristine statues arranged around a central table made of sandstone.

“Well,” Lydia muttered, scratching at her jawline, “That’s the first test down.”

“I thought you said there weren’t any traps?” Belix glared at her.

“I did, these are tests, not the same…” she paused, noticing the intensity with which the elf woman was leering at her, “No danger, I promise, just…assessments.”

“For what?” Zeesa demanded.

“Him,” Lydia pointed to Sylvester, “The Lighthouse will only begin to function when it senses the power of the Disciples.”

“I’m not…” Sylvester started to correct her, then saw the crystallized blood still clinging to his sleeves and grumbled himself into silence, “Okay, so what’s the next step?”

“Um…” she looked over at the sandstone table, “Pretty obvious…”

                With a sigh, he walked over to it and raised his hands, waiting, but nothing happened. With a low groan in his throat, he reached out and slapped the table with his palm. Again, no response, and he was quickly growing agitated.

“Well,” Noob muttered, “This was a long trip for a whole lot of nothing.”

“Help?” Sylvester complained, but Lydia only shook her head.

“It doesn’t have any magic words, it just says ‘the table will recognize you’,” she shrugged, “Maybe it just takes a minute.”

                Mumbling several curses under his breath, Sylvester began to pace around the table, looking at it, and then at the statues as he passed them. Finally, he stopped in front of one in particular, a tall willowy woman with long hair that wrapped around her body several times over. The face calmed him somehow, and he closed his eyes, breathing out an unknowable amount of accumulated stress.

“So…” he whispered, “That’s what you really looked like…”

“Did she ever tell you her name?” a voice echoed through the room like the ringing of a gong, heard and felt in equal measure as it vibrated the very stone around them.

                Sylvester looked back to the table and saw that its surface had changed, now roiling, writhing like a thing alive, then it erupted upwards, birthing a glowing orb of ghastly orange light into existence that hovered in the air above them. As its spewed off an acrid looking smoke, the gas congealed, taking the shape of a robed man wearing a cloak with a wide collar. His features were old, wizened, and stern, he immediately gave off the sense that he was not to be trifled with. Then he leaned back and yawned loudly before plopping himself down on the table, letting his legs dangle off over the edge like child without a care in the world.

“You’ll have to excuse me for my tardiness, it’s been a while since I was last summoned.”

“Uh-huh,” Sylvester watched with some horror as the smoke constructs legs slowly vanished right up to where they met the lip of the table, “Do you know why we’re here?”

“Not at all, no,” the construct smiled.

“Oh…do you know who I am?”

“Some relation to her,” it gestured to the statue, “You were staring at her rather intently.”

“…are…” Lydia blinked in surprise, “Are you…”

“Ah, and there are more then?” it raised its voice, “I’m sorry my dear, you’ll have to step forward, my vision ends outside the range of the circle!”

“You are though,” Sylvester surmised, looking the construct over, “You’re Dante, the man who…”

“No sir, I am not,” it responded sharply, the quickly softening its tone, “I am merely a fragment, a…base copy you might say, with basic reasoning and all the general trappings of being alive, minus the…less obvious parts.”

“Okay…so what do you do here?”

“I control the bridge,” it shrugged, “I raise it, I lower it, not much of a life, but it is mine.”

“Then, could you raise it please?” Sylvester asked, desperately, “There are…we believe that Del’moth may have made it into the library.”

“Oh, my, word, that is quite disturbing,” It responded, though the timbre of its voice never changed, “Unfortunately, my good man, that’s where we hit a bit of a snag, you see, when I say it’s been a while since I was activated, I mean that…I was…NEVER supposed to be activated.”

“And what the Hell does that mean exactly?” Sylvester asked, eyes narrowing.

“Not much more than what it says,” the construct shrugged, “Call it a failsafe if you must, but, simply put, if you want into the library, well, you’ll have to convince me first.”