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[Devils Temptation]

 

[Devils Temptation]

RECORD 146​

"Aurora surgit, lux nascitur.

Dawn rises, light is born.

That is what I have translated that phrase to... out of small excerpts found in the decay, piecing together that ancient tongue was quite a difficult undertaking. The Dark has made it such that all contents of paper have turned ashy and diluted - perhaps due to the nature of ancient paper. I suspect there was once a time when humans created it from something living and organic, it is now the case that the Dark has corrupted even that. Luckily, this ancient language has quite a few occurrences etched so deep within bronze, stone, iron... enough to piece it together if I were to race my fingertips over it. Lumen. That was their word for light. I find that rather charming, actually!

Those that now reside in this... 'world' seem to not know anything other than what they were born into. There was once a time where things had been different. I have no proof for this because I, myself, am also a product of the era I was born into. I know nothing other than this world plagued the Dark. Yet, I am in a unique position to sift through the remains of the world to see the way those before my illustrated it. Much of it has been lost to the Dark but that which has remained shows of a different reality.

Two, rather...

I refer to the most recent of human civilization as the Lantern Bearers. Massive, towering stone structures and citadels... fortress scattering the land, they too grew up in a time where the Dark was seeping into this world. To combat it, they built structures I merely refer to as the 'Lanterns' - sources of massive light that could shine upon entire nations to eradicate and contain the Dark, like some sort of barrier carving through the fabric of time and space itself. Inevitably, the Dark was able to overwhelm the Lantern Bearers and the world would cascade into total darkness. Small pockets and pools of those uncorrupted reside closest to the dying embers of the remaining Lanterns... merely waiting for their expiration date.

They have forgotten how to dream. They have been broken by the Dark. It may have not corrupted them but it has crushed their spirit.

In my travels, I have come to learn of a civilization even before the Lantern Bearers. In a time when the Dark hadn't existed at all. In that time, there was no Lanterns. No citadels, no fortresses, no walls to attempt to block out the Dark. There was no fear of it. It is in that time that this saying had surfaced. Aurora surgit, lux nascitur. Dawn rises, light is born. I know not of any humans that still dare to dream, other than myself. Perhaps I, too, am just a fool who has been mentally warped by the Dark... I would not know. It has been months since I spoke to another human much less seen one. Yet, to me, that does not matter. I could go my entire journey and never see another human again.

The very first of the humans spoke of something that could expel all shadows. I do not know exactly what this 'day' is but what I do know is...

Daybreak is the death of all shadow.

Until every last shadow, every last trace of the Dark is eradicated... until the world once more experiences Daybreak, I will not stop traveling these lands. If I fall, consumed by the Dark, I hope that someone may pick these records up and continue upon my project. If that scenario does come to pass... to whomever may be reading this, I offer you Operation Daybreak.

I will not stop.
Until every last shadow, until every last presence of the Dark is eradicated.
I WILL NOT STOP.​

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TICK. TOCK. TICK. TOCK.

The mechanical click of the timekeeping device in his pocket would offer the only noise in the entirety of that crypt. Without it days, months, years would blend together into one endless blur of time in a world where time seems to have stopped marching forward entirely. Seated atop a dusty perch of rock had been a figure that blended just as tightly into the darkness. Dark leather adorned his body with a slimmer, airtight feel to it. The regions where it would approach his wrists, pants, and neck had all been fused down to create one distinct piece of clothing which exposed no skin. Even his head had been covered by what was a glassier blackened mask. Boots tightened and pants tucked into the small inch or so gap of the boots. Without moving, he certainly felt no different than the decaying status and gravestones within that underground crypt.

Yet, something about him was unmistakably out of place.

To those that lived in that world, he was an anomaly. Two arms. Two legs. A torso. A head. His figure did not fray, it did not melt and merge into the silhouette of the darkness around him. Even more pressing than that had been what was on the stone next to him, something that crypt had not seen for centuries, perhaps even millenniums. Casting long, massive shadows over the entirety of the crypt room he had been sealed in was light. Large, glass-encased lantern with a darker iron container. Flickering within it appeared to be some light source. Candle, light bulb... it was hard to say, really. The luminescence was overwhelming to the point that staring straight at it would blind one's eyes. Particularly those that had spent their entire life in the Dark.

True to form, the tomb room he had been in was off the main hallway within the underground crypt - to either his right and left were sarcophagus that were tucked and trapped beneath large granite lids. Dust and erosion had more or less wiped the lettering off the face of every tomb but the occasional letters that he could find were something that he idly ran his fingertips over to pass the time. The time for what, exactly...? The man's gaze - if he even had one under that mask - would wander to the doorway connecting to the main hall of that crypt...

Warped amalgamations of sinew, bone, flesh... and shadows. Their true form was only visible due to the rare light illuminating against them, it was hard to tell if it had been just one creature or if it was a collection of them hanging by the doorway to narrowly remain out of the man's sight. It was a struggle for them. Their elongated, gnarled hands attempted to clutch the edges of the stone door to slip closer or their warped, wicked mouth-like organs would lap and drag tongues along illuminated rock like they could taste the light itself. For as disturbing as the sight had been, the man did not show any concern. He did not rise and he did not care to speak to them.

TICK. TICK. TICK.
...

"Hm... interesting." He spoke quietly, to himself. That was something he had done often, as to not forget how to speak or perhaps to be startled by the sound of his own voice when he had spoken up. Dipping a hand into his pocket he produced the noise of that ticking. A small pocket watch. The time had been precisely 5:30AM. For reasons he could not explain, corrupted entities in the Dark were at their strongest at 12AM. Starting at about 6AM, they would start to weaken... growing slower and faded until about 12PM where they were at their weakest. Why had that been the case? He did not know. Nor had anyone else in the world. No one was crazy enough to investigate the Dark, to challenge it. No one aside from himself.

The time marched on, thirty minutes passed... the creatures in the doorway did not seem to grow and weaker or any more faded. Why was that? He had noticed it from when he had entered that crypt that they seemed not to be affected by the cycles of the Dark. "Perhaps because we are underground... ah. I wish not to harm this pocket of history but you leave me no choice. Very well." Shaking his head, he gave a brief 'tsk' and finally stood up. Grabbing his 'lantern' he would carefully attach it to his backpack and once it was safely secured would begin to approach the monsters sticking to the doorway. Some shrunk back with foul screeches, others inched closer with grins stretching so wide they made the sides of their faces split open. Some spoke garbled words that sounded half like a language and others just some repetitive garble. The closer he approached, the more that mass of Dark eagerly reached out ot accept his body and embrace him -

- THEY CRAVED THE LIGHT. THEY WANTED HIS LIGHT.

The man knew that. He had no intention of granting it to them. As soon as he was close enough to the creatures, he drew the weapon at his hip and fired it straight ahead. The snap and pop of a flare would send a BURST of blinding light throughout the hallway. Bloodcurdling screams would etch and roar from the creatures mouths, many catching on fire while others struggled to slip into the smallest crevices they could find along cracked stone to hide and run from the man. Those that writhed on the ground were quick to be dispatched, the man approached those rolling around on the floor soaked in white flames that bit at their bodies. From his backpack, he pulled a utensil that resembled a firepoker, squeezing the handle to cause the metallic tip to loudly sizzle and illuminate with heat. Not too unlike he had been pushing aside trash on the street, he would prod into the skulls, bodies, arms of anything that was on the floor in front of him. One single deep pierce would put the howling monstrosities out of their misery until all that was left of them and in the hallway were handfuls of ashy marks splashed across stone and wall.

Tight corridors were not the most pleasant of places to be. Rays of light obeyed rectilinear propagatio... light only traveled in straight lines. Tight spaces like these with corners, ridges, doors, walls... they offered too much hiding space for those corrupted by the Dark. It was his only choice, unfortunately. The maps he had recovered described these underground tombs as connected to the site of his next destination. A towering bastion, the largest within the continent... and a rumored extinguished Lantern that sat at the heart of it. Months of travel had brought him here and while most sane men would turn around and run upon seeing the sheer volume of Dark-infused monstrosities prowling the tombs, he had no such choice. There was no place for him to return to. No home to go back to. There was only forward.

Trudging through the halls, there was something else unusual that had caught his attention from the start. Architecture that was not used would begin to, rightfully, decay. The Dark and its creations oftentimes lost their sentience the more corrupted they were so they knew not how to use doors for example - they merely shattered through them or slipped between the crevices. Multiple locations in that tomb had opened doors, functional hinges, it was almost as if... someone else was down here aside from himself in recent times.

The echo of his footsteps approached increasingly closer to the main chambers... casting long streaks of light across dusted rooms and plaques - occasionally illuminating monsters that would much rather run from the man than to confront him even though it was painful to fight the instinct to draw closer to that light he gave off. One last double door before the main catacomb. Placing both hands onto the aged stone, he took a deep inhale and shoved forward to part open the door to reveal layers of coffins and skulls, graves and tombs alike. A staircase wound up from the center of that room, presumably into the bastion that he was attempting to enter... and one piece of that mystery would finally reveal itself. Two arms. Two legs. A humanoid body. Eyes. Those eyes. Completely empty like voids of pure black, he could see the light of his lantern reflected back in them. Sometimes the Dark would attempt to emulate life poorly... something about her seemed to be corrupt. Undoubtedly not of the living but not quite like the Dark either. What was that?

"Excuse me... I do not know if you can understand the language I speak. You appear to have sentinence, miss. I would rather not waste time expunging that which does not seek to harm me. Perhaps we can be on friendly terms? Allow me to introduce myself! My name is Lucentio. I am a Lightbringer. You may call me merely Luc, if you so wish. Now... I am very much hoping that you can speak. Please say a word so I may confirm this theory, don't be shy!" Stretching his arms wide, his demeanor and entire tone seemed overly energetic and upbeat for... what the world had turned into, for lack of a better word. Perhaps even manic to an extent like he was conducting a personal interview. In Luc's eyes, how could someone not be excited to meet another person they could speak and interact to in a world that was nothing more than an empty, dark abyss? Oh, how he hoped that she could speak... no, he would make sure to hear her talk.

@Sideris