Standing beneath the bow of the ship, Syllian could finally see what The Adler looked like. But the sight wasn't impressive; it was dismal.
It may have been majestic in the past, but it certainly wasn't now.
Holes, cracks, deformed wood...
The Adler looked like a slap-shod boat now.
Thud-
A crate lowered beside Syllian via a contraption made by Danny; it was the food crate.
The next to climb down was Helen, with a small drop, she landed beside Syllian and Crude.
They weren't going anywhere until everyone came down. They knew nothing about this island and they weren't a large enough group to split into two so they planned on leaving the anchored Adler behind and explore the island first.
The crate of food and planks was just in case something happened to The Adler while they were gone.
It was a death sentence if the ship was destroyed and they were left with no food and no place for shelter.
Psshh...
A couple of rain droplets splattered on Syllian's face.
'The rain is light.'
After many days of non-stop rain and swaying left and right on that ship, this was a nice change.
Also, this way the crate of food won't be spoiled.
---
A little while later.
Standing side by side, they looked at the island around them with a mixture of weary and excited eyes.
Orland carried the crate of food; Crude and Danny carried a crate of spare wood each.
Stepping forward were Syllian and Allen, with Helen following right behind them.
They were going to lead the pack through with candles in hand for when the lightning ceased.
Syllian scrunched the straw doll in his pocket again. Theon, standing at the back behind the others with Riley, swore he felt someone poke him.
"Lady's first." Syllian faked a noble gesture that he had seen a couple of times from the kids in the slums.
"Yeah. Yeah." Allen looked at Syllian with plentiful disdain and took the lead a step ahead of Syllian.
It looked peaceful, but Syllian wasn't going to take that risk.
-----
The human, Syllian, was an odd one.
Surrounded by Mutants, he took a risk to keep Lanner and Allen alive because he felt powerless and frustrated.
And because he wanted to make his own choice.
But now that he wasn't so powerless and frustrated...
Now that he could make his own choice...
He threw the boy headfirst into danger.
A condescending hypocrite at his finest.
One moment he was making one choice, the next he was making a completely different one.
One moment the Source was blacklisted, the next he was talking to it.
One moment he was arguing and wanting to deathlist Helen, the next he allowed her to follow him.
Every one of his actions contradicted the other.
He was a boy woven together by lies, truths, deceit, and uninhibited hypocrisy.
Others had set personalities that may differ slightly in different scenarios.
But Syllian was the opposite.
There was no set personality.
At times he cared, at other times he didn't.
At times he was angry at someone, the next he wasn't.
And because of it, he was outcast by the lowest of the lowest, the slum dwellers.
Syllian had no friends or people he cared about.
He had two in the past but those days were long gone.
Now, Syllian was just an amalgamation of every desire, emotion, and belief.
Such people were the worst.
You couldn't trust them.
You couldn't believe them.
You couldn't befriend them.
And the worst part?
They themselves had no idea the depths at which their broken beliefs lay.
But these people were also the most malleable.
At any point their beliefs could be anchored, all it required was a spark.
But for Syllian.
His mind was too desolate.
Too void...
He required-
...too lonely.
-a flame.
-----
Dead leaves cracked beneath their feet.
The rain receded further and only a few stray drops occasionally hit them.
They spent 10 minutes just to walk halfway up to the statue, it wasn't a long distance but they opted for safety first.
Miraculously, nothing jumped at them, a tentacle didn't explode out of the ground and attack them, and no Mutant abruptly rushed out of the waters after them.
It was nice and peaceful.
Syllian didn't like it one bit, nor did anyone else.
The more the environment beckoned them in; the more they wanted to run.
[The call of the night beckons all.]
Dread hung high above Syllian's head.
The further they walked into the trees and through the path, the harder it was to spot the large Adler and the more difficult it was to hear the sound of the crashing waves.
It was like the forest was swallowing them.
[The call of the night swallows all.]
Syllian wanted to run right now, but that was counterintuitive.
There was nowhere to run to, nowhere but up.
---
"So tiring." Theon complained from behind them. His words drew a couple of disgruntled looks from the three carrying crates.
Crunch.
Syllian crushed the straw doll.
"Ow!"
It worked, somehow.
'Special straw? Or is this place just cursed?'
Probably the latter.
It had been another 10 minutes and they were about to reach the top of the hill, where the foot of the statue anchored the majestic structure.
"What do you think this thing is?" Allen questioned him as usual.
"No clue."
Syllian had an even more inquisitive question than that.
'How did they build it?'
It was surrounded by a vast body of water.
So, where did they bring the materials from?
How did they even manage to construct something like this in these conditions?
These questions brought back his previous questions too, why was it always night? Why was there tentacles that sucked in hordes of Mutants? And why were there Mutants escaping the water?
This place was an anomaly.
"Do you think they carved the nipples beneath those robes?"
Syllian almost tripped over his feet, "Huh?!"
Allen looked at him innocently, "What? I'm curious."
Helen stared at Allen's face from behind Syllian, the mockery within her eyes was dense as she scoffed and spoke for the first time in a while.
"What? Never seen a woman before?"
Syllian's hand snuck beneath his back and gave her a thumbs up. Allen had no retort and could only lower his head in shame.
"So you admit to it." Helen smirked and chuckled at the boy.
Syllian felt the life drain out of Allen's face, 'Really? Is he that weak to womanly matters?'
"Don't give me a thumbs up, idiot stick, you haven't spoken to a woman in years either."
His thumbs froze and dropped down, then he blankly walked forward.
He couldn't retort to that either.
How depressing.
'No, I must have-'
Nope.
Never.
---
"A stele." Allen stopped walking while the candlelight in his hand flickered as it lit up the object he spoke about.
Stepping beside him, Syllian looked at what the boy was talking about.
A stone tablet as tall as Syllian and perfectly rectangular sat right in front of the statue. It remained in solid condition with little to no wear and tear.
And carved into this tablet, or as Allen called it, a stele, were a set of runes Syllian couldn't understand.
Thud.
Dropping his crate to the ground, Crude walked up beside them and also looked at it.
"This language, I kind of know it."
"You do?"
"Kind of, it'll take me an hour or so to decode it."
Allen nodded, handed over his candle to Crude, and turned to Syllian, "You heard him, but what about you, do you understand it?"
"No. Never seen it before."
Allen questioned the others as well, but in the end, only Crude could decipher the language.
"Look around the statue and then set up camp under it." Crude ordered the others then sat down in front of the tablet and concentrated.
No one had any complaints, the rain was gone here, the ground was dry, and the wind was weak.
Obviously, many other concerns existed in the background, but worrying too much helped no one.
Except Syllian, he couldn't stop worrying.
---
The first thing he did was break off from the group, with Helen in tow. She never stopped following him around since that night.
Examining every inch of the statue's sandals and its feet, the boy slowly looked around it. He checked out all the nooks and crannies.
Until he reached the back end of the statue.
He would have been completely covered in darkness if not for his candle. Looking up, his eyes gazed at its cape; the beautiful cloak created a small circle of tranquillity on the ground.
Turning his eyes to the back section of the sandals, Syllian noticed something odd.
Walking up to the sandals, he ran his fingers across them and realised what it was.
'Potrusions.'
Tracing them up the side, Syllian imagined it in his mind for a moment and confirmed his suspicion.
'You can use them to climb up. Maybe that's one way they used to build it.'
Tap.
Helen pulled on his tunic.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"..."
Syllian almost regretted his choice of allowing her to follow him.
But his instincts from before already warned him once, ignoring the warning now would be a grave decision.
Or maybe it no longer mattered considering all the arguments he had with her after that warning.
'No reason to risk it again.'
The last time he argued with her, they were attacked by a swarm of Mutants.
Maybe next time they'd be attacked by two swarms.
He shivered at the thought of it.
Another young voice suddenly interrupted them.
"How is it here, Finch?" Allen stepped around the sandalled feet and walked up next to Syllian.
"It's a better spot to take shelter."
"I'll tell the others."
Allen paused for a moment then looked at Syllian, "What do you think?"
This question was slightly different.
"Dangerous, probably."
Allen neither commented nor shook his head.
He simply walked away.
-----
An hour passed and a miniature camp popped up behind the statue, far away from water, mud, and the incessant swaying of The Adler.
The bedding wasn't the best, but it was better than the stench that stained the cursed ship.
Sat around a small campfire, everyone quietly ate away.
The atmosphere had turned solemn a little while ago because they all knew that Crude would be finished translating any minute now.
Step...
A man stepped into the light, his face exhausted but noticeably solemn.
Crude was back.
"How is it?" Orland spoke to him first.
Crude planted one hand on his hip, and the other on his face, and then let out a long sigh.
"It was tiring."
"You know that's not what I'm asking."
Shrugging, Crude went up beside Danny and took the last empty seat.
Interlocking his fingers, Crude looked into everyone's eyes one by one, took a deep breath and said:
"It wasn't much, just a few words."
Silence.
"But."
Syllian focused, 'But.'
"It was also a lot."
Then, he revealed:
"Praise be the Mistress of The Night; Blessed be the Mistress of The Night."
'The Night.'
Syllian's hands gripped tight in an attempt to conceal the emotions brewing within him.
Crude wasn't done yet.
"Greet the Mistress of The Night."
The campfire flickered, lighting up Syllian's bloodless face.
"For She is the Harbinger of The Night; For She is the Caller of The Night."
"For She, is The Night."