Dylan: "I didn't even tell Ethan about it."
Dylan: (Knowing him, he'd probably figured it out by now.)
Dylan's nostalgic expression turned bitter.
Only the gentle sounds of waves remained, carrying away the weight of everything left unsaid.
Realising the building tension, Elin searched her memory for a different topic.
Elin: "Compared to you.."
She let out a forced laugh.
Elin: "I've just had an ordinary life. I'm currently doing my diploma in mechanical engineering."
Dylan chuckled.
Dylan: "Just an ordinary life, huh? That honestly sounds quite good right about now."
Elin faintly smiled.
Elin: "Yaa...."
Both stayed silent, reflecting on their current state, neither knew what to say.
Then–
Something caught Dylan's attention.
A faint white light drifted through the night sky. Then another. And another.
Within seconds about a dozen floated above the rooftops.
They weren't stars, airplanes or birds.
They resembled white flames with various sizes, gently dancing through the stillness of the night sky.
His eyes narrowed.
Dylan: (...What, are those?)
Oddly enough, despite encountering these seemingly unknown entities, Dylan remained calm. He didn't sense any danger. At least, at first
But his mind reminded him of the unpredictability and dangers of the unknown.
His grip tightened around his bat, ready for any sudden movement. At the same time his feet shifted, ready to retreat if thing went south.
Elin: (Is something wrong?)
Curiosity moved her head, following Dylan's gaze.
The moment she noticed the lights, she relaxed.
Elin: "Oh, don't worry."
She waved her hand dismissively.
Elin: "Those things are harmless."
Dylan: "You know what they are??"
Elin: "Kinda."
She watched the flames slowly drift through the sky.
Elin: "These lights appear almost every night and eventually drift towards the shrine."
She pointed towards a mountain overlooking the island.
Dylan: "And?"
Elin: "And what?"
Dylan: "What's so special about the shrine?"
Elin: "No clue."
She shrugged.
Elin: "Surviving the goblins is already hard enough, I don't want to get tangled up with some mystery."
Dylan: (Fair enough.)
He lowered his bat, glancing back at the flame.
Dylan: "Again, they are harmless. Right??"
Elin: "Ya, ya. You should have seen the first night. There were thousands of these lights covering the sky."
Dylan: (That sounds terrifying.)
Elin pointed up.
Elin: "Look, here they go."
The flames floated silently across the night sky. Uncaring, unhurried, unbothered.
(Meanwhile – ??? POV)
The night wind drifted through the ancient shrine, gently ringing the withered bells.
Once a place of prayer...
Now, only silence remains.
At the center sat a cloaked figure. Surrounded by many dried green blood stains that had seeped into the wooden floor.
One by one...
The flames descended from the night sky.
Like moths to a lantern, they surrounded the cloaked figure.
The figure plucked one of the flames with its green bony arm.
Observing the tiny flame carefully, before throwing it aside.
???: "Tch."
???: (Another bad harvest.)
???: "These darn MONKEYS!"
The creature suprisingly spoke human tongue. Its voice dripped with irritation.
???: (At this rate the great miracle will take months to finish.)
It slowly rose to its feet. The flames followed close behind.
Hidden behind a heavy wooden door lay the shrine's true purpose.
The room resembled a grotesque butcher's workshop.
Rows upon rows of corpses lined the walls.
Men. Women. Children. Animals. Even goblins.
Every body had been completely drained of blood and engraved with strange glowing marks.
Their pale skin remained perfectly preserved despite the days that had passed.
Some lacked limbs. Others heads.
But unlike the mangled bodies from the station... These amputations were precise, intentional.
The figure walked between them, browsing through the corpses as though selecting merchandise.
???: (These monkeys are far more resilient than I thought.)
Its fingers brushed across a corpse.
???: (But regardless of what they do monkeys will always remain monkeys.)
Eventually it picked out three human bodies and carefully laid them across a large wooden table.
???: (These ones will suffice.)
The figure extended its hand.
???: "Kaltac."
A rusted machete shot across the room, landing neatly in its grasp.
With one quick motion–
*Slash*
One arm fell. Followed by a leg. And another. Another. Another...
The blade rose and fell with mechanical precision, each strike displayed years of experience. Until only three headless torsos remained upon the table.
The machete was set aside.
In its place a thick needle threaded with coarse black string.
The figure began sewing. Arms from one corpse. Legs from another.
Muscles stitched to unfamiliar bones. Joints forced together in ways no living creature should ever possess.
Every pull of the thread tightened the fleshy amalgamation of parts into an increasingly unnatural shape.
???: (At least the souls of these lesser beings still have some use.)
It reached towards one of the drifting flames.
The tiny light struggled inside its skeletal fingers.
Then–
Without hesitation the flame was pressed into the stitched corpse. Infusing into the body.
The body twitched.
Once. Then again.
And somewhere beneath the layers of mismatched flesh...
Something began to breathe.