*Snap*
Marcus ignited a flame in his hand, once again using it to illuminate the staircase.
"So, we gonna talk about that?"
"What's there to say. Apparently I'm baggage and holding you back."
"Ignore her, she can be a bit much. But you don't have to worry about me, I won't follow him down the path of corruption."
"He wasn't corrupted, just easily swayed by the others at the outpost."
"No, he was corrupted. If he was swayed there was a chance it could have ended differently. Don't worry though, I won't change like he did. And don't worry about holding me back, you don't. If anything, you're the main reason I want to keep pushing on."
"Huh? The main reason?" she asked, her cheeks reddening slightly.
"Yeah. You're my closest friend in the world, not to mention my only link to the orphanage. Well, only healthy link. If it means keeping that link alive, then I'll do anything. Anyway, will you promise me that you'll trust me from now on?"
"That kind of thing doesn't sit right with me, after all, what fourteen-year-old immediately thinks of torture? But yeah, I can trust you."
The staircase led them into a prison. Torches, darkened by time, sprung to life from a snap of a finger. Cells, occupied by the long-rotted skeletons of previous captives, lined a corridor similar to the one upstairs, long and narrow. Cobwebs, scattered along the walls and ceiling suggested the cultists hadn't been down here.
At the end of the corridor the prison opened up. The only thing occupying the space was a desk, coated with dust and ancient parchment.
Marcus picked up one of the sheets gently, as if afraid it would crumble from his grip.
Looking at the parchment, he found it was covered in words that seemed to fall just outside his understanding.
"Lox, take a look at this," he said, handing her the sheet. "It's a similar language to ours, but it's different, somehow."
She took care in handling the sheet, also recognising its age.
"I think I get the gist of it. It's an older, less refined form of our language. Something about prisoner data, captured in battle, point of origin... South? But there shouldn't be anything but water to the South."
She placed the parchment back on the desk and began looking at different sheets.
"South."
"South."
"South."
"All of them talk about an invasion from the South. But there's only ever mention of the Three Nations and the Independent Kingdoms in official history."
"Stricken from record?" Marcus offered.
"I think so," Elanor nodded in agreement. "But why? It seems like they were crushed in battle here, so what's the point?"
"I wonder..." Marcus began, his voice trailing off.
"What is it?"
"The striders knew about the cult's connection to Yar-Anar for a while, even when they weren't so brazen about their worship. And religion is pretty frowned upon on this continent, at least as far as I can tell. What if this place is full of fanatics?"
"Remove it from record to reduce the number of cultists? It could work."
"That guy upstairs said something about how no time would be enough, too. Maybe this has been in motion for hundreds of years."
"Either way, coming here was a good choice."
A loud noise could be heard from upstairs, shaking the foundations of the fort. Marcus and Elanor glanced at each other.
"We'd better get going."
"Agreed."
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"So, you want to talk about that?" Tess asked in a concerned tone as the two approached the ritual site.
"Talk about what?" Roxy snapped.
"Your outburst. You know as well as I do that he doesn't shield her from anything, and that she doesn't make him weaker. What's it really about?"
"Nothing, it was just what I said."
"What do you take me for? You don't live a life like mine without learning how to read people. What was that really about?"
"I told you, nothing."
Tess sighed. "Since you won't tell me, I'll just have to guess." She examined Roxy with her eyes.
"It's not anger, you wouldn't be civil if it was. It's also not concern for Marcus."
"What? I am concerned about him."
"So you care about him, that helps." A small smile tugged the corner of Tess's lips. "You're jealous of her, aren't you?"
Roxy forced a laugh. "Jealous? Are you sure your senses haven't dulled with age?"
"Nope, and your reaction confirms it," Tess said, crouching down to examine the ritual.
After a minute, she stood. "Nothing but the mark of the god. We should probably go up and check the other corridors," she said as she looked around at the empty courtyard.
"Let's go back a moment," Roxy said, following her up the stairs. "Why would I be jealous of her?"
"Let's see. She has a connection to the real him, you only know the person he forced himself to become; he openly cares for her, but treats you as nothing more than a pest. In fact, her entire being is a link to the child he was before he met you, and that terrifies you."
"You didn't have to answer," Roxy pouted as she overtook Tess.
"I don't think you have anything to worry about though," Tess muttered.
"Did you say something?"
"No."
Aside from the weapons on the walls, the second corridor was empty.
The third corridor on the opposite side of the yard was like a mirror to the first.
The two opened a couple of doors as they advanced only to find a similar picture to the rooms on the other side.
In fact, the only difference was a large door at the end of the corridor.
Heading inside, the two found a large study.
One would be forgiven for thinking the room had no walls. Bookshelves, filled to the brim with paper and dust covered every inch of the perimeter of the room. Buried by the bookshelves, a sliver of infant moonlight snuck its way into the room, providing the faintest illumination of the room.
A large, leather-bound book lay shut, covered in dust on a grand desk placed purposely in the centre of the room.
Roxy opened it with a grunt.
She studied the contents, skimming through the large amount of text for anything helpful.
"This just seems like a report book. Do you have anything?"
"Nope. These just look like recreational books," Tess responded with a sigh."
"How old is this?" Roxy muttered. "This language is like a predecessor to ours."
"It's probably around three-hundred years old, that's when this place was last used." Tess walked over to the desk and looked at the book over Roxy's shoulder. "Anything interesting in the reports at least?"
Roxy shook her head. "It's just stuff about shipments, recruits, supplies, blah blah blah." She shut the book with a sigh. "This all just seems useless. I'd much rather take action to find stuff out."
As if fated, a loud noise could be heard from the courtyard, followed by the fort shaking.
"What was that?" Tess exclaimed.
"I think that came from downstairs," Roxy said as she closed the book. "Come on, let's go."
"Looks like you'll get your action after all," Tess joked to Roxy as they ran back to the stairs.
They arrived down the stairs to find Marcus and Elanor waiting for them.
"Was that you?" Roxy asked them
"No, it wasn't us," Marcus responded.
"I'm guessing it wasn't you then?" Elanor asked.
"Have the three of you considered the thing who's now standing atop the ritual is the one responsible?" Tess asked sarcastically.
"You can see it too?" Marcus asked in a pessimistic tone. "I was hoping I was hallucinating."
The creature, a twisted parody of the human form, turned its head to look at them.
It extended an arm to point at them. Not with hands, but with tentacles.
"You will defile this holy place no more!" it declared. Its speech was distorted, as though it was talking with lungs full of water.
The group coughed as the stench of the creature reached them. It was similar to that from the corruptions they had seen previously but more potent. It was like the creature's first attack, assaulting their senses and irritating their lungs.
Marcus snapped his fingers, manipulating the air around them to provide some form of filter. Grateful for pure air, the group gasped.
"Alright, let's do this!"