A soft warmth sets in as the clouds blanket the sky, containing the atmosphere beneath their protection. The church is much taller up close. It lies along a dirt road, far from any neighboring buildings. The watchtowers on each corner lie vacant as a home for nothing but spiders and crows. This building has withstood the test of time; from its ornate detailing on the door to its broken digital sign, it has watched decades come and go. Allegra runs her thumb over the necklace in her pocket as she passes through the front door.
Wendy moves ahead into the church itself while the rest of the team waits in the lobby. Generally, beasts are at ease in her presence-- she’s one of them, after all. A few creatures scatter when they hear her footsteps. Their small feet scamper across the floor and their tails slink around corners as they find a new hiding place. Beasts come in all shapes and sizes, but the only people inhabiting this church seem to be mice and bugs. Once she finds a light switch, she gestures for the rest of the team to come in.
As Lynx, Allegra, Chaos and Calamity step through the door, dozens of lanterns on the wall light up. The church illuminates with a beautiful warm glow. The light grows faint towards the tall ceilings, except near the altar. The stained glass figures on the far wall sit in the perfect amount of light, with every detail visible, even from this much of a distance. Allegra admires the glow on her skin, turning her palm over slowly.
“Isn’t solar power a wonderful thing?” Wendy says. Allegra’s never seen her smile so wide. Lynx begins to sing a tune-- a shanty of sorts, about a maiden and her lover-- letting her voice reverberate across the cathedral walls. Although an incredibly unfitting tune for the setting, she’s perfectly on key. Calamity groans as her final note disappears into the air.
“Is this entire trip gonna become a singalong?” he asks.
“You should be thankful. Allegra’s little tune saved our asses,” Lynx comments. “As for me, you’re gonna have to deal. When you live at sea for a year, the shanties tend to just happen.”
Allegra’s eyes widen. “You lived at sea? Is there anything you haven’t done?”
“After I first turned, I knew it was only a matter of time until my family found out. If my days were numbered, I figured that I might as well enjoy them.”
“That’s why your manners are so bad,” Chaos says. She aims her machete in his direction, half playful, half threatening.
Allegra hurdles over one of the pews. She comments on the fact that Lynx is the only one she really knows. She doesn’t blame everyone for keeping their distance, but if one member of the team trusts her, shouldn’t they all? “That’s the point,” Chaos answers. “All of us know how to shut the fuck up about ourselves. Little miss Sentry-turned-sailor-turned-renegade never learned that skill.”
She runs her fingers over the worn wood seats and brushes the dust from her fingers. “Come on. Give me, like, one fun fact. It doesn’t have to be personal.”
“I’m the second of six siblings,” Wendy says. “I grew up in a small community and we always had big gatherings and dances. I’d come home bruised because I was short and everyone was always stepping on me.” Feeling more at ease now that the lights are on, she sheathes her sword.
“Chaos has a fear of heights,” Calamity says. His brother shoves him in the back.
“Calamity ate a live frog on a dare once.”
Lynx narrows her gaze. “Dared by who?”
“...Me.”
The group reaches the altar and admires the details. The fake flowers, the flickering lanterns meant to mimic candlelight, the intricate illustrations twice as tall as any human being-- in its purest form, worship is a beautiful thing. Wendy eyes the four figures illustrated on the wall and chuckles. “I didn’t think people still worshipped these guys.”
Allegra cocks her head to the side. “Who are they?”
“The four deities: Genus, Lumen, Necros, and Chronum. Gods of birth, life--”
“--death, and time,” the twins finish. They eye the illustration of the gods curiously. Necros bears a bronze complexion, a loose top with a hood that drapes delicately over his shoulders. Black lines, reminiscent of tattoos, trace his broad shoulders, over his collarbones, and up the sides of his neck. Behind the red of his irises lies a warm, watchful gaze, despite the deep black that surrounds them. For a god of death, his demeanor is quite friendly. His arms lie at his sides, palms facing out, welcoming mankind into his embrace. Meanwhile, Chronum has dark skin, warmly illuminated by the spotlights hanging over him. Long locs trail from his head to his shoulders, growing gray towards the ends. He stands stoically, perfectly composed, as the paragon of order and wisdom. His palms are raised slightly, facing upward. From his left hand hangs a pocket watch-- from his right, a set of scales. Everything about his illustration is perfectly balanced.
The two godly gentlemen create a stark contrast against Genus’s glowing white gown and Lumen’s intricate uniform and staff. Both Chaos and Calamity stare at Chronum for a while, but fix their gaze on Necros even longer. One may call it instinct, an omen, a sign-- but it makes sense, considering he’s a deity of death and they share the soul of a raven. Their connection to these gods runs deeper than faith.
Across the room and down a short hallway, Wendy, Lynx, and Allegra gaze at small TV. The twins join them. The corner space is decorated with primary colors, colorful rugs, and scribbled notepad sketches taped to the wall. It’s both somber and beautiful; the paper decorations and dirty paintbrushes on the table are a testament to the life that bloomed in this house of worship, but they’re also all that remains of a faith long gone.
“The four dieties keep our world in balance,” the voice on the TV says. “Genus gives life, Lumen maintains it, Necros ends it, and Chronum keeps it balanced. Although we think of death as sad-- scary, even-- it’s a necessary part of life. That’s why we treat beasts the way we do. They deserve another chance to be something pure, something truly made in Genus’s image. She is the creator of life, after all--”
A collective groan ensues. What a sorry excuse for killing an innocent creature, Allegra thinks. Even just a few days out from her life in Elk City, she can’t believe she used to think that death was the only option. Lynx presses what she thinks is the power button, but the screen switches to a different display-- a simple geometric outline, full of doorways and halls and different levels. A map. Their position is marked with a small circle. She traces her finger across the display, memorizing it as far as her mind can reach. She darts down the hallway across the room so quick, she might as well be scampering on four legs. The rest of the group darts after her as they cross into the depths of the church. Answers were secondary for this trip; knowledge was always the priority, and it’s closer than it’s ever been before.
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