"We go in tonight. Meet me at the Serpent d'océan hotel, room 401. Signed: Edward Greaves."
Elizabeth was walking down 18th street at a fast pace, nervous as she reread the small message in the crumpled piece of paper to remember the room number.
She was a newly graduate from the archaeologist guild, and to have a tomb raider as famous as Edward Greaves seek to make of her a prospective apprentice was as terrifying as it was exciting.
"This must be the hotel." She said to herself as she stared at a big red gate, a serpent's sprawled skeleton was emblazoned upon its side. She had to climb narrow stairs to reach the entrance, a big man in a black uniform ordered her to stand in place and present her identifications.
She scrambled through her purse for a moment, pulling out all sort of oddities, from her scorpion keychain to a miniature leather journal then finally, she found her identification card.
She inspected it to make sure it was her image on the i.d, and she saw that the woman had tousled black hair styled in a pixie cut and that her big green eyes had a feline-like appearance, accentuated by her retroussé nose. "Yup, that's me alright," she said to the guard, crinkling her snub nose at him as she handed over her card.
He scrutinised the i.d before directing his suspecting gaze back at her, but his gaze did not stop at face level. He took a moment to observe her dress, Elizabeth was wearing an elegant crimson dress, with a deep V-neckline that seemed unnecessarily sensual. The bodice of the dress fitted closely to her figure, accentuating her curves, and It had thin shoulder straps that matched the color of the thin black belt around her waist.
Elizabeth grew impatient at his staring, and asked him, "Is all set? I am tardy for an important meeting." He saw no faults in her papers nor in her figure, so he bade her entry,
and she entered through the door, hoping that he was not continuing his inspection behind her turned back.
As Elizabeth stepped through the grand door of the Serpent d'océan hotel, she found herself in a lavish foyer adorned with Salvador Dali's artworks and red opulent furnishings inspired by surrealism, their quirky designs edging on the extreme. The lobby seating consisted of a giant undulating snake, each downward curve was a seat, and every upward sinuous movement a waste of space, and under which some people laid their baggages.
She decided to climb up the stairs and to avoid the elevators because they were congested with bald men in suits. The dimly lit spiral staircase exuded an air of mystery and warmth, and she found herself getting hot and bothered the closer she got to Mr. Greaves' chamber room.
Following the little directions she had received, Elizabeth made her way to the fourth floor and found room 401 at the end of a long and empty corridor. She took a deep breath, then exhaled softly, trying to not let her trembling breath betray her anxiety, she gathered her composure and knocked firmly on the door, announcing her presence with a loud bang.
"How may I help you officer?" A voice trying to sound charming sounded behind the door.
"It's Elizabeth, I am your new apprentice...that is if you end up accepting me."
"It's open, come in."
After a brief moment, she pushed the door slowly and deliberately, resembling a cat carefully assessing her surroundings. her gaze fell upon the renowned Edward Greaves. A wide-brimmed hat concealed his eyes from her sight, while his feet rested leisurely on the table, clad in sturdy ankle-high boots, and she noticed that their sole patterns showcased exceptional grip and traction.
Then she looked down at her own open toed heels, and she began to feel underdressed for the task at hand.
Greaves raised his hat, casting an appraising gaze at Elizabeth. "Smart of you to dress in a way that avoids arousing suspicion. I assume you've brought a change of clothes in your purse?" he inquired as he stroked his gruff beard.
Elizabeth, feeling a twinge of embarrassment, rubbed the back of her head and admitted, "I'm afraid there is no outfit. I assumed my current attire would be sufficient..."
"I must confess," Greaves chuckled wholeheartedly, rising from his seat to procure her a more appropriate attire, "that I bear some responsibility for not completely disclosing the true nature of our mission."
She was relieved that he was not as intense as she had initially thought. He came back quickly, holding in his arms a long-sleeved top, black tactical trousers with multiple pockets, and a pair of earth-toned boots dangling between his fingers. Then he took a moment to explain the significance of each item.
"Lesson one, the gear is an extension of the adventurer." he began as he hung the top on his arm, displaying it for her. "The clothes must be made of a lightweight and breathable material, allowing freedom of movement, just in case we have to flee from a bear or some deranged graveyard dweller."
He turned the top around and extended the sleeve then continued, "It should also have moisture-wicking properties to keep the wearer dry and comfortable during physical exertion. Go ahead, rub the elbow area." She followed his instructions and was impressed. It even had reinforced patches on the elbows and shoulders.
"As for the trousers," he explained, "they have adjustable straps to ensure a secure fit regardless of the wearer's size. Even though they were initially mine, you don't have to worry about your pants falling down mid mission."
"That's a relief," she commented, before her eyes landed on fingerless gloves buried in the stack. "And what are these for?" she inquired.
"This?" Greaves said as he slipped a glove on and wriggled his fingers inside. "That's to make you feel badass."
And with that unexpected comment. He managed to break through her nervosity and made her laugh a little. Then with a quick wink, he left her and headed to the balcony as she began to undress posthaste, slouching forward while standing to start with her left heel.
He stood at the balcony waiting for her to finish, leaning against threadbare rails to take in a last view of the city.
They were in the heart of Sinclair's district, towering high-rise buildings extended as far as his eyes could see. Their architectural design showcased unique elements that set them apart from traditional towers.
The glassy blocks of their skyscrapers were angled and of varying rotations, and the square gaps between each stacked block made them appear as if suspended in mid-air, casting an ethereal effect on the entire cityscape.
The interplay of light and shades throughout the day had diverse effects on the structures, forming an ever-changing arrangement of geometric patterns and eclipsing angles sprawling across the facades. Now that it was dawn, Edward Greaves noticed that the blocks were mirroring the setting sun, diffusing a vibrant purple glow inbetween orange tinted frames.
However, not all of the city exhibited this futuristic veneer. In the midst of the towering blocks, an ancient temple stood, its weathered yellow stone walls adorned with climbing vines.
This architectural urn shaped relic starkly contrasted with the sleek metal and glass buildings that surrounded it.
Overgrown gorse shrubs and all sorts of wildflowers and unidentified sprouting enclosed Its central location, even starting to spill towards the adjacent roads, as if they had claimed their territory in defiance of the encroaching urban landscape.
It was the rumors surrounding this nameless temple which piqued Edward Greaves' interest in the city. Complaints poured in from highly esteemed individuals, ranging from doctors to nearby landowners, who reported terrifying visions during the devil's hour, and crooning words seemingly emanating from the undergrounds of the structure.
As men of science and firm disbelievers in paranormal occurences, some attributed these strange phenomena to a gas leak, while others pointed fingers at the peculiar plants, believing their leaves to possess hallucinogenic properties.
However, Edward held a different conviction, he glanced behind him in the direction of Elizabeth as she was busy tying her boots, and then chose to keep this knowledge to himself, not wishing to alarm his new apprentice lest she flees before even finishing knotting her lace.
"Are you done? We have to get moving." He rushed her, taking her by the hand to lead her outside of the room.
"Yes, but where are we going?" She asked him curiously as he was dragging her behind him.
"I'll explain to you once we get there, it isn't far away." Greaves replied evasively, he believed that once they were deep under, she would rather stick next to him than trace back her steps and seek an escape all alone.
It was a quiet journey of just a few blocks, and Elizabeth found herself adjusting her new outfit's straps in an attempt to get more comfortable. Meanwhile, Edward Greaves led the way, his demeanor reflecting a sense of deep contemplation.
He did not utter a word the entire walk, remaining absent minded until at last they pulled up to the temple grounds and were greeted by an awe-inspiring vision: the wall's immense curved form.
They started circumnavigating the round structure before Greaves laid his hand upon the expanded stones. The view took the breath from his lungs, and for a moment he forgot his companion was trailing behind him as he gazed reverently upon the wall of ancient stones wrought together by time and the elements.
"Such a magnificient monument..." commented Elizabeth, " Its walls seem expanded as a clay urn, as if a relentless sun has continuously shaped them under its enduring heat for thousands of years."
"Possibly longer," Greaves remarked, fascinated, as he passed his finger over the concave joints, drawing her attention to their absence. "Observe how their forms are swollen and interconnected. They seem to have melted and fused together."
"Like a smith's work I believe," replied Elizabeth. "When he subjects the steel to high temperatures to meld ingots together, only to cool it off afterwards, affixing it in place.
When these stones were subjected to intense heat, they've absorbed the thermal energy, and the heat expanded their molecular structure, only for the storms to cool the new homogeneous edifice, infusing it with an eternal quality and a sunken appearance."
Elizabeth paused for a moment, curious at the seemingly natural arrangement of the temple's construction. She couldn't help but wonder how such a remarkable structure could have been created under current conditions. Edward Greaves, perceptive to her thoughts, deciphered the unspoken inquiries on her face.
"In their times," Edward began, "the sun was a different kind of sun, and it seems they modified the stone composition, perhaps using minerals with higher porosity."
Curiosity sparked within Elizabeth, causing her to tilt her head to her right and gaze at Edward with intrigue. "A different kind of sun? Do you mean the indigenous when you say 'they'?"
Edward, wearing a smile of anticipation, directed his attention towards the temple entrance. There were no doors nor gates; instead, a massive boulder obstructed the way. As he crouched down to release a sturdy branch from its tangled roots, he responded to Elizabeth. "The answers we seek lie within the depths of these ruins. And the sooner we descend, the more likely we'd be back home in time for supper."
She understood his plan and helped him to mend the branch beneath the boulder. Then with their combined effort, the boulderstone had been rolled out of the way and the air became thick and infected with a putrid humid smell, as if an olden grave had been opened. Overwhelmed by the sudden waft of decay, Elizabeth nearly fainted and hastily adjusted her top to cover her nose and alleviate the stench, while Edward remained unfazed, having grown accustomed to such odors.
When Edward peered inside the temple, there was nothing but a sheer slope leading to complete darkness. Determined to proceed, he retrieved a sturdy pike and ropes he had previously secured to Elizabeth's side, and proceeded to anchor the pike firmly into the ground. With the rope securely attached to the pike, he flung it into the abyss below, and signaled to Elizabeth with a pump of his fist in the air to follow his lead as he started his descent.
The rope rasped against the vertical stone slant, the sound jarringly loud in the sepulchral silence. After several minutes, he managed to find a foothold on a large ledge. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he lit a torch and secured it in a wall sconce nearby, casting a flickering glow of light on the scene as he glanced up to assess Elizabeth's progress.
She appeared to be in trouble, struggling to maintain her balance on the smooth, nearly parallel surface. Her weary arms trembled, their strength waning as they clung desperately to the rope, its fibers tearing through her sweat-slicked palms.
"Jump!" Edward yelled, his voice cutting through Elizabeth's panting breath.
Instinctively, she obeyed. Her fingers tore from the rope and she was airborne, flying away from the climbing wall and into emptiness.
A wave of horror washed over Elizabeth as darkness rushed up to swallow her. Every fiber of her body tensed in anticipation of the fatal landing, muscles bracing for impact against hard floor.
She fell for what felt like minutes, limbs reaching upwards, eyes refusing to clamp shut as they fixated on the faint light of the ever-distant entrance.
Then, with a great jolt, her fall was over. Elizabeth lay sprawled in the arms of Edward, panting furiously. It took her a few seconds to recover normal breathing, after which she looked downward, examining where she might have ended up if he didn't catch her.
"What's down there? I hope not stakes to impale curious adventurers." She asked Edward, in a clear sign that she was recuperating.
"It's because of me that you'll never have to find out, no need to be grateful." He responded as he put her back on her feet.
"No need indeed, cats always land on their feet don't you know?"
"I'll keep that in mind for next time," He commented as he examined their route, "be a dear and bring the torch, will you?"
Elizabeth did as she was asked, following Edward Greaves, torch in hand as he navigated on the ledge. The dim glow of the torch illuminated crude reliefs lining the walls as they passed by - figures with elongated heads, spears in hand, seemingly sacrificing plague-wracked kindred, corpses heaped in flames, winged creatures erupting from smoke.
As they moved forward the shadows seemed to deepen and thicken, oppressing their sights further. The torchlight fluttered over the carved images crowding the walls, causing the still figures to appear agitated - maws tremoring in rictus grins, barely perceptible eyes glinting with malice.
Edward seemed to navigate the narrow passageways by instinct now while Elizabeth followed close behind, trailing her fingers along the damp lichen that crawled up the flank of bloated stones. She hurried to catch up with Greaves, no longer wishing to linger in that claustrophobic place. The walls now seemed to lean outwards, pushing them uncomfortably towards the abyss.