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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.​

---

---

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

 

[Sideris]

ELMARIN-

Never before has it been as difficult to find a piece of paper as it was this time. I think, similarly to everything else I've seen lately, it's decaying. I wouldn't be surprised at all if this ends up ripping and molding before you ever find it; still I will leave it on the counter of the tavern you used to enjoy visiting. Either you'll find it and respond, or you will not. As you have not responded to anything for... it has to be several months now, I think. I will not attempt to contact you again after this and I have started to realize that the only reason I have continued to write you in the first place is so I don't forget how.

Unless you have been destroyed at this point, I strongly suspect that you've lost your way and have gone mad. It would be a damn shame if I'm right on either account, but my suspicions strongly favor the latter. And if I am not wrong, if we ever meet again, I will be the one to expunge you; just as I have Liselle and will Zaya, once I find him. It's a pity, but you might be curious to know that, save for the three of you, I have never met anyone else like us. I know that does not matter one way or the other and the likelihood of ever doing so is extremely slim, but it is interesting to think about, despite how pointless it is to do so.

I do not know if you are coherent enough to remember, or to understand much of anything any longer. Still, once before, I told you things were not always this way. I still remember solis, the sun. I have no way of knowing how long it has been since -the calendar I found a while back did not predate edax tenebris- still, yes, the sun did rise at dawn every morning and illuminated all. Before the Dark came, we valued beauty; hope and curiosity had been ours. People did not stagnate, nor did they fade; they created, learned and progressed. Scholars had made remarkable discoveries and extensively documented their findings. Even back then, there were monumental troubles and nothing had ever been perfect, but they understood the value and importance of the little things, knew joy and had not turned their backs on anything. When the light died, we learned, remembered and fought back against the coming of the Dark.

Our casualties had been innumerable and the war had been immense, but... we fought. And we had damn near succeeded in destroying it, I think. At the very least, we had managed to push it back far enough that it had no longer been an immediate danger. At that time, we still did not fear it at all- we fucking hated it. We rejected its arrival and stood against it. Something happened. I do not know the details, but it had managed to redouble its onslaught and it surged. The humans I've met during my travels cannot be called people, not if you stop to think about it. They do not remember, or maybe they simply do not know, what it means to carry hope or joy. They no longer create anything meaningful, do not hold beauty in any regard and have become faded, stagnant facimilies of what they used to be. It is truly lamentable and things did not have to be this way, not really. I would welcome any kind of change, honestly.

I find it interesting enough to remark upon: the entities that haunt the Dark still have made no move against me. They watch and wait, but unless I have reason to hunt and kill them, they continue to do their best to avoid me as much as they can. They observe and follow me relentlessly, but unless I confront them, they do nothing else. As much as I think they have some semblance of sapience, I do not think they desire to communicate. I do not know if they can, to begin with. I have reasons to believe that this will end up changing very soon; nothing can remain the same for an extended period, after all.

As I continue to hunt Zaya, I have come to realize something. I am going to do it. I have decided I am going to learn about and understand the Dark. If I can understand it, I think I should be able to use its secrets against it I believe there should still be a way to push it back again. If the night has not grown too long and it's still possible to fight the Dark, I hope we will stop losing our purposes and the threat of lunacy will cease to exist. I refuse to tell you where I am heading at this time; it does not concern you in any way. Still, it's curious enough to be worrisome: I have not seen anyone in... I think it has been close to a year, now. I know not for certain, but the night continues to grow and there is now a very real probability that I will not encounter anyone during the remainder of my trek- At this time, I could be all that remains. It is of no consequence, however; I remain unbothered by the prospect of being solitary and silence suits me well. In fact, the world might just benefit if silence ends up stealing my voice entirely!

I have not forgotten my duty: I continue searching for every remaining living being and I will not refrain from dispatching the ones that must be eliminated. I will not rest, not until I have fulfilled both of my purposes in their entirety. If the night lengthens to the extent that there are no longer living beings, or the Dark's influence and power becomes insurmountable, I will close all remaining open doors and show this world of the damned where the end truly begins: I will welcome and serve as the guide for oblivion.

As cruel as it might sound, old friend, you had better hope that our paths never cross again.​

.||: V :||.


───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
​

The rhythmical tap of long, avian talons and faint rattle of iron chains against the time-worn stone floor were muffled, yet managed to shatter the unhallowed silence of the tomb as easily as any shriek would have. It would have been difficult -if not downright impossible- to follow the passage of time while traveling through the serpentine passageways, had time not lost all meaning long ago. Meandering through those labyrinthine corridors was an uninvited guest: unperturbed and enveloped by the clinging shadows. The cowl-like hood of her tattered ivory shroud was pulled low, intentionally obscuring her face from view, the hem of her equally-tattered white robe whispering in her wake almost like an afterthought. Serene as she maneuvered past the cracked and crooked tombstones, she could have -should have- been nothing more than a forgotten ghost haunting its halls.

Nevertheless, her presence was not welcome here: there was no place for one like her.

Those who still tenaciously inhabited these lands like cockroaches were usually apprehensive when she approached their settlements- and their reasoning was both justified and understandable. They didn't exactly know -or remember- what happened when a Revenant drew near, or that none of her ilk had the same purpose, but they were at least aware that change of one kind or another was inevitable when a member of her kind drew near. Still, she was lucky enough to be one of those individuals in possession of a head that had only two eyes; fortunate to have the appropriate number of limbs, a torso held upright by the bones that supported it internally- and that she walked upright. Her short, albeit solid, figure was not inexplicably blurred at the edges; it did not fade into blighted mist and smoke, nor was it caged in perpetual motion. One clawed hand lifting to trace a particularly interesting design that had been engraved into the surface of one precariously-tilted tombstone.

Far more important than the false, hollow phantoms of beauty that were still visible in the forms of those intricate ingravings, in the cracked and ancient statues was her main purpose for being in the crypt. The two most recently-filled sarcogaphi -if they could have been called "most recent," it had been months at best, or decades at worst- remained undisturbed; for now, at least- which meant they could be left alone.

As the woman continued ever onward, she occasionally paused; though it was pointless to do so, she righted the smaller and less-damaged statues, so they once again stood on their stone bases, as they were intended to. Why did she even bother? That wasn't a question she could have answered, even if some phantom materialized and asked; perhaps she didn't have or need a reason.

It certainly wasn't to fight the twisted, warped amalgamations of nightmares that writhed and hissed from within the more static shadows. It was impossible to determine whether it was a single shadowy creature that shrunk in upon itself, or if it had been multiple drawing back, as the woman made her way out of one room, turned the corner and entered the next, not bothering to spare those... things even a passing glance. It was normal for them to retreat, recoil and simply observe when she drew near; innumerable eyes closing, twisted, gnarled hands releasing whatever they had been grasping, slithering serpentine tongues returning to the twisted, monstrous maws they had emerged from. Those incomprehensible creatures were vicious, ravenous and deadly hunters that relentlessly sought the living and were evidently drawn to things such as campfires.

However, the woman was not one of the living and unless she had reason to attack, they avoided her as well as they could. Unless she was horribly mistaken, she could have sworn she had seen a particularly malignant form of intelligence gleaming in the eyes of some of their larger specimens on occasion. Once, the Revenant had managed to capture one of those peculiar entities that served the Dark, intending to converse with or question it. She could neither understand or explain why -despite how it had appeared to at least understand part of what she had said- save for gibbering, hissing and growling, it had not responded; she did not know whether it had been incapable of speech, or if it simply had not been willing to communicate. She still did not know why they were here, what their actual purpose might have been. As far as she remembered, no one else knew, either- at least when she had been alive, no one knew. She was probably the only one interested in investigating the Dark, to understand and possibly eliminate it. The Revenant was certain that her endeavors were solitary; there couldn't possibly be anyone left who still thought it could be eliminated.

They did not comprehend death, which was something that the Revenant woman had come to understand over the endless years. Just as she had noticed something truly perplexing as she continued ambling through the halls. the entities of the Dark were becoming more restless and agitated; their slithering and climbing becoming frenzied as they screamed and babbled in that twisted, maddening quasi-language of theirs. Not only that, but one or two of the chambers she had not visited had apparently been entered beforehand; one of those doors with still-functioning hinges had been left slightly ajar and the other had been completely open. At some point -she could not say if it had been recently, or over the past few years- someone else had been down here. It was something worth being aware of, even if it did end up inconsequential.

The clicking of her talons against the stone floor became louder and more frequent as she was no longer leisurely meandering, but had begun jogging as she drew ever nearer to her current destination. Though she had been unable to verify or otherwise substantiate the rumors she was chasing, there was supposedly an immense bastion nearby. None larger in the entire country- and supposedly, this crypt's catacombs and tunnels would either lead to its entrance, or possibly to the road that would lead to it- she had forgotten the details, but recalled the supposed location. She knew little of what the bastion might have held, though she had reason to suspect that the individual she had been pursuing might have fled for that bastion as well. She did not know how long she had been traveling for -it could easily have been anywhere between months, or possibly even a year- hunting that bastard. Even if she happened to be wrong, there would be no backtracking: she could only continue ever onward.

Home was nowhere, the world had moved on and she was a relic that had been left behind.

As she raised her hands and placed them against the final double door, she braced her legs and shoved inward, forcing the door to open; barreling through immediately after. As she entered the final catacomb, its layered sarcophagi, unburied yellowing bones, toppled marble monuments, desecrated graves, coffins and tombs were revealed; along with the magnificent spiraling staircase that served as the catacomb's centerpiece. Had she drew breath, she would have sighed in relief about how those venerable rumors had been correct. As it was, she had slouched against one of the walls momentarily; a low, harsh, rattling sound that passed as laughter freeing itself from her throat when the entities near that wall began to shriek, wail and caterwaul as they recoiled. Had she not been in a decent mood and had even one of them moved to threaten or challenge her, she would have been more than willing to fight and kill them- but the pitiful things in the crypt had given her no reason to attack them; they were smaller and far more meek than the others she had seen before. Perhaps being underground made them far more cowardly than what she was accustomed to- she could not say.

The double doors that had swung closed behind her creaked and groaned as they parted once more.
The Revenant was not alone.

As -was that really light, or had she finally gone irrevocably and completely mad?- shone brilliantly into her eyes, causing her to squint beneath her hood and raise her left hand to try and shield them against the unanticipated and... incredibly strange, momentarily dazzling display, her wings bristled in apprehension, taloned toes spreading to provide better balance as she rose onto them; the pugilist began bouncing, sliding one foot behind the other, her right arm raising to waist-height and curling inward, hand curving into a fist. The avian rattling rumble that wanted to rise into a birdlike screech faltered, halted. I've got to be fucking wrong, it's not possible; I know someone was here sometime before- nothing more and nothing less. This place must be doing something to my head.

This intruder had no more limbs than she did, walked and stood upright. Seemed to be humanlike enough, despite being obscurred from head-to-toe. She wasn't sure if he was hiding far too many eyes beneath his mask, but at least he didn't have visible tentacles, nor did his form warp, writhe, or otherwise move like the entities did- at least not like the ones she'd ever seen. It would seem that, just as one mystery was likely going to be unraveled, another approached.

When he addressed her -extremely politely, pleasantly and... quite energetically- one of her eyebrows arched, a smirk just barely curved her lips upward and rather than anything resembling speech, the first thing that tore itself from her long-disued throat was somewhat akin to a grunt. "Yes." That was followed by a pregnant pause, as though that monosyllabic response should have answered his rather exuberant interview, though even by her standards, it neither clarified nor helped anything. "Yes, I do understand the language you're speaking. I have no reason to extirpate you and as long as I am not given a reason, that will remain unchanged. I..." She tilted her head when he voiced his fairly absurd question, not entirely certain how to answer it; no one had ever posed such an inquiry before. "I cannot promise anything. Lucentio, I have never met another Lightbringer, so I do not know what that is. I am Velu. An executioner." As they spoke, her defensive stance started to relax and her bouncing ceased. It might have been a horrible idea to tease someone she had just barely met, but she couldn't help herself; not with his hopeful remark. Her smirk relaxed as she attempted to mask her expression, her voice carefully controlled: "I have not said anything, as I cannot speak. I hope you aren't severely disappointed."

He might have seemed to be quite long-winded, but she didn't mind; in a peculiar way, his joviality reminded her of a puppy. Plus, it might have simply been because of how long it had been since she had heard anyone else speak, but his voice was pleasant to listen to. She was still wary, but encountering someone else that she could converse and interact with was... surprisingly welcome. It had been no less than a year and probably far longer since the last time she had done so- and had not anticipated meeting anyone else for years yet to come, with the way things were going now. Still, as her attention was briefly brought back to the staircase, she was curious about yet another matter: "What brought you here and where are you bound for?" ​

@Devils Temptation