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Chapter 70: Journey to the Center

The two had ventured down the underground cavern for several miles now and had been guided only by the cosmic light of Qu'l-Nia's twinkling hair. The eldritch woman had detected something strange far beneath the planet with her singing and was convinced that it was imperative for them to uncover what it might be. Alma was just satisfied that she could finally see her old friend again—the blinding absence of light.

Above her, the haunting peals of harsh rumbling pervaded her ears bringing to mind the howling of demons. The alien breeze blew strong through the desert above, causing wild sandstorms to shake the sands under the eldritch sun. Alma couldn’t help but wonder if there was anything left living on such an inhospitable planet—demon shadows notwithstanding.

Aside from the distant clashing on the planet’s surface, things had been mostly silent since the beginning of their descent. Qu’l-Nia hadn’t said a word since her discovery of whatever it was they were now after. Was she even thinking of taking her back to own world? What possibly goes through that woman's mind at times like this? At any time really.

Qu'l-Nia finally broke the silence.

"Here," she said. "This is what my melody revealed to me.”

Alma looked to where she was pointing. Great stone bulwark surrounding crude, ancient architecture that hasn’t seen or felt a living thing in hundreds if not thousands of years. Dilapidated ruins carved from roughly-hewn rock into small abodes that were once home to some unknown race of people that lived there at one time.

The ex-soldier peeked in through a large open window in the wall of one of the buildings. Uncomfortable looking stone tables and stools littered the room. Everything about it screamed primitive to her and she found herself trying to imagine what kind of person could possibly enjoy living in such squalor. Not that shutting herself in her room for the longest time was any different. Perhaps creature comforts were simply in the eye of the beholder.

"Big doors… This place reminds me of Clan of the Cavern."

“What is that?”

“It was an old animated television show about a family of cave dwellers who would always get into these impossible hijinks. Cartoons were one of my saving graces as a child and yet, I can’t even remember when the last time I watched one was...”

Qu'l-Nia didn’t respond. Instead, she had slowly been making her way straight toward a singular destination within the nameless city.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"What exactly are you looking for in this kind of place?" asked Alma. "Shouldn't we be figuring out a way back home? I wasn't expecting taking a trip to the stone-age. Bad enough I get no reception on this planet. I haven’t been able to contact my sister, my parents, Heli…”

"Our return is up to you," she replied.

"What in these crazy dead-end worlds are you talking about?"

"I cannot use the same method I took to come here to bring you back. It was your power that brought you here and it can only be that selfsame ability that will take us back.”

Alma frowned. "And you're only telling me this now? Why not back up on the surface instead of rambling on about how my religion means nothing? Speaking of which—does this mean there's no afterlife? If Macha isn't watching us from her throne in Cockaigne, then where is she?"

"It is much more complex than that. The gestaltian is meant to collect the essence of your soul. Whether your consciousness remains connected to that essence is up to you. The conscious mind is not just the thoughts in your head. It is a complex manifestation of your inner voice that has evolved as a separate entity from your soul altogether. That is what travels to other realms if you so choose. Or it can choose to stay connected to your soul as it joins back into the world soul. But from what you have told me, it sounds like that is what your Macha consumes in this afterlife of which you speak."

"Wait, so you're saying you have no soul…?" Alma asked alarmingly.

"I came about very differently. My race lived long enough to develop to this point. When it was discovered that we grew beyond conflict and needs, a greater being came to us and helped us to ascend. It has been so long and, in this body, my memories of such an event are fuzzy to me now, but it is definitely something that happened. My mind and soul were fused into something greater. But that is enough chatting about me. The short answer to your question is, yes. I have something of a soul, and yes, there is something of an afterlife. As I said, these are questions for Derleth, not for me.”

“Oh…” Alma scratched her head and looked around the empty city lost to time. Crumbling stone and cracks in the walls told a very long and empty story of a place that once was. "So, all religions are real?"

"I do not know."

"Come on,” cried Alma. “I thought you loved talking about this stuff!"

The eldritch woman’s focus was elsewhere—guided by some unknown and focused curiosity. Very soon, they had come upon another ancient building that decidedly stood out among the rest. It was much larger and its stone walls were made to look much more polished. Intricate structural pillars surrounded the front of the building, like the entrance to some grand hall or temple. Upon closer inspection, carvings near the avenue depicted what appeared to be some sort of worshipped deity—a floating eye surrounded by a plethora of wavy lines. It almost looked like a sun.

“Q, exactly how old is this place? I still don’t even know what we’re doing here. Shouldn’t I be—you know—practicing on how to get us back?”

"In due time," she replied, fingers sliding gently along the cracks by the door leading inside. Qu’l-Nia peered inside, lighting up the pitch-black area with the unnatural natural glow from her hair. “I sensed this temple down here earlier. If it has any info on exactly what this universe has gone through, it might give us some answers on how to deal with things on yours.”