The flames crackled and licked the air, turning it into billowing smoke that reached the top of the cavern. The group huddled around the fire in a circle, minus Oya who was sitting outside the cave, with her extra clothing off, attempting to bathe in the moonlight. Burnt patches of skin and bubbling blisters could be spotted all along her limbs and face. The toll paid for using her powers during the daytime.

Sheridan sat flat on the floor, with a small propped up under his leg. His face looked inquisitive, nodding before opening his mouth to speak. “So if this is all true, the Church is what we’ve always thought it was.”

“Worse.” Lun said. “The fact that we have this hidden history reeks of long term planning. This cult that the Church started generations ago has been planning everything for this moment. They will stop at nothing but to see it through. No possible evil should be discounted as a possibility for them.”

“I wonder what the Queen and the royal family knew, or any other heads of state.” Sherdian wondered out loud. “So Abel is a part of this now? Whether he likes it or not? He is this Conduit.”

The Custodian’s eyes lit up at the mention of this word. His voice bellowed from the hollow metal body once again. “The child selected to be the Conduit is undergoing a great task. It is for the better of society.”

Sheridan’s tone became coarse with gravel. “That doesn’t particularly answer my question, but it does in a roundabout way. He has no choice. You’re condemning him to even more danger than he’s already been in. The boy has bravery, which means he’s going to be stupid about the whole situation.”

“You don’t have to follow him on this. You and the rest can pack up, keep doing what you’re doing, and have no impact on the world.” Lun said.

“Sheridan, we have a chance to do some good. I know you’ve said a handful of times that we need to be a force of good. Thieves with honor you said.” Jaqri responded.

“Doing small goods is subjective. I tried to live my life honorably and well once, look how that turned out.” Sheridan said with venom in his voice.

Lun stayed quiet in his corner as the two argued, he looked out of the cavern at the night sky’s canvas, painted with stars. His mind wandered back to the pyres in Last Hope, the eldritch creatures descending down from the night to maim and slaughter everyone around. Shaking his head, he continued to listen to the disagreement between Jaqri and Sheridan.

“You always said you wanted to do more, Sheridan. Remember what you told me when all was lost for me as well. You said that there’s no need to shake the feeling of wanting to do more, to feel guilt, but to harness and use it to be a better force in the world to come.”

Sheridan gritted his teeth, biting his tongue in the process. “Don’t bring up my past. I know what I said to you. I’ll sleep on it, okay?”

Lun wanted to say that he would go with the Custodian and Abel regardless of what they all thought, but in order to stop fanning the fire of anger past what already existed, he tried to change the subject again. “Jaqri, your kind is very rarely seen. What brings you to being here, with a bunch of bandits?” He smiled at the end of that, eyes dotting towards Sheridan.

Jaqri stared off behind everyone for a moment in a pensive look. He turned back to meet Lun with his eyes and opened his mouth to speak. In the few times that Lun had heard him speak, he never realized how slow, deliberate and calculated every word was, as if it was a struggle to form the language.

“I am the last of my kind, at least that I know of. Abel always wants to remind me of the hope of more.” Jaqri solemnly said. “There has always been distrust of us. Our technology is different, our way of life is different. People see what they don’t comprehend as savage. Couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Lun’s eyes widened at this. “We were always told that the sasquatches warred the nations of the world, attempting to steal the technology. That they weren’t much more intelligent than wandering jackalopes. Thus, why they were hunted and driven away. I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that this is false. I always knew there was some sort of smelly propaganda about it. Surprise.”

Jaqri nodded. “History is written by the victors, they say, right? Our technology is one with the world. You use machines of iron and steel. You bend the very earth your will in forges of molten fire. We simply commune with those of the earth to do the same. A train for us would be similar to a herd of animals we organize to transport us en masse. Airships made of beautiful ivory and spider-silk. Lost to generations of jealousy and mistrust.”

Lun looked pained. Every single thing he knew about the world was being burnt at the edges, as the fire consumed all of his knowledge, it was replaced with fresh, vibrant knowledge. In a matter of days, he had begun to shift from a skald, a storyteller, a wanderer, to this. His mind shifted to his parents and his last conversation with them. Yelling at him for wasting all of his time reading books instead of following in the family footsteps. He shook his head before looking back at the group.

“Why haven’t you told anyone this? Isn’t there proof?” Lun said. “There has to be someone to listen. I’m listening. I promise this story will get out.”

Jaqri smiled, bearing a long row of massive, but flat teeth. “No use. The damage has been done. I think we should focus on the task at hand and what we’ve recently discovered. It’s been so long my people have been hunted down, that technology is far lost. My tribe was moving from place to place in hiding, forced to be hunter-gatherers as if we were primitive people.”

Lun thought about it for a moment again. His mind was always wandering around from place to place, but it settled on one of the languages he didn’t recognize in the tomb they were at. Was this the language of the sasquatches? Were they created by the gods as well? So many burning questions. Not enough answers. Even when he got an answer to one, it just opened more.

“Y’all need to get to sleep.” Sheridan muttered out. His eyes wandered over to Abel, his body still shivering and sweating. “Are we sure he’ll be okay, metal man?”

“I am the Custodian. The Conduit will be okay.” It answered plainly.

“Alright. Time to hit the hay then. Jaqri, I will tell your story one day. Is Oya coming?” Lun shrugged in her direction.

“No, she doesn’t sleep much at night. Part of what she is. Before you ask, that is another story for another day, preferably one she should tell you herself.” Jaqri said before laying his massive frame down on the ground, closing his eyes to sleep.