The lemur’s skin was raw and ruined. The touch of the oozes had burned away his furs, made the meat below turn half-liquid and boiling. Now, his wounds had become hard, shiny crusts of reshaped flesh, straining whenever it moved. Blood seethed through wherever the outer layer cracked.
The light of the moon was just out of reach. His eyes could no longer see clearly, only the haze of light breaking through the dark before him.
The beast tried to stand, and with a whipcrack spasm of pain, a long cord of scab stitched down his spine ripped free of the surrounding inflamed tissue. He fell, blinded by agony, blood and worse oozing from his fur. Pathetic, angry sounds filled the dark.
He had made it through the doors. Yes, he was safe. Only for a moment.
He could hear the squelching of the oozes fighting to fit themselves through the cracks in the doorway. In the dim light within, their sickly grey-yellow flesh glimmered as it slowly crept through. There was no choice but to move.
Only his body refused to obey.
He rose once, lanky limbs pushing against the ground. Gravity was too strong. The air was too thin, too dust-choked. Scabs broke and fiery pain ripped through the inflamed flesh below. His head spun and there was a sharp cracking blow to his head.
Moments later he realized he was on the ground; the crack had been his skull striking the floor.
Again. No better result. Only the empty hatred he felt for the earth as his body slumped against it again, muscles shivering. The ground was slick, rough with little warps and grooves, shined over with furry black moss. His skin felt as if it was trying to suffocate him, it was hard and inflamed and fighting against his every move. As if he would drown in his own body.
Once more. Inch by inch he forced his way forward, no longer knowing why, no longer needing to. It was simply enough to move, to keep living, to refuse the stillness that would turn into sleep and into death.
Ahead, the moonlight glittered.
He turned his head upwards, and saw the light came from a statue in the heart of a dry pool. It was a beautiful thing. His goddess. She stood tall and mysterious, lost in the fall of a marble robe. She reached down, fingers curled, waiting for another to take her hand.
The lemur reached forward and grasped the lip of the pool. He fought to crawl forwards. Although his limbs had gone weak, his eyes dark, he fought to drag himself on, and when he could no longer feel his arms beneath him, he chose to believe he was fighting still - that he was moments away. His head lay against the earth as he dreamed.
Stone hands reached down to carry him away.
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The lemur lay against soft fur. Its eyes flickered, and it turned over slowly. Aches and pains stirred in the depths of its body and told it lie still. This time, he listened and surrendered to his own weakness. The furs were comfortable and his exhausted muscles were blissfully happy for rest. It felt like he was melting.
The pain wasn’t so bad. Its fur was gone and cold air brushed its skin, but that skin was whole and unbroken. How?
"Count yourself lucky to have lived."
He turned his head slowly and saw a woman of stone. She was tall and shaped much like the goddess, but far inferior. Her skin was dull grey, where the goddess’ was luminous. She had short, simple hair drawn into a braided knot above her head, where the goddess' cascaded out in untamed curls. She bore a little resemblance to the face he dreamed of, but that was all.
"Most healers wouldn't even have tried. Can you understand me? You're a very strange creature, but I won't complain. I'm happy to have the company. Really, I wish more guests would drop in uninvited." She stepped away, her footfalls hard against the stone. A long shawl of blue fabric woven with diamond patterns of gold draped across her form from one shoulder. "But I'm out of healing for the year so really, if you do bring friends, make sure they come in better shape."
He stirred, his eyes following her around the room. It was a broken place. The ceiling caved down crookedly where the walls had given way. A table bore half-finished fabrics, shards of crystal, polished tools. Candles burned in little alcoves.
It was a home-like place. A den.
Shifting, the lemur slid onto all fours. It was unnatural to be in another creature's territory. The sense of someone else's presence, marked across the room by the small touches of care, was stifling.
The goddess had taught him to understand speech, but she could not take the animal instinct from his soul. He would never be a tame thing that lay by the fire on comfortable furs.
The stone woman looked back at him. “If you want to leave, go ahead. There are plenty of ruins to make your own.” She reached down and took up a knife to hack the leaves from a stalk of fragrant herb.
For a moment he hesitated, unwilling to approach. “Go on! I don’t bite. Saved your life, and you’re acting like I’ll tear your throat out.”
He prowled past her, and looked out on a strange world, one that made him hesitate in the doorway. The cavern ceiling was far above, the stone teeth that hung down covered in luminous bugs that shed a thin, starry glow on the earth. In all directions strange, straight-backed boulders stood in rows. They were hollowed out, with open mouths and empty eyes.
Dens for humans. Most of them had been cracked like eggs.
The sight of so many hollow homes was dark and awful and confusing. They were empty in a sad way. The silence of the cavern was deep, the only break in that awful quiet coming from the buzz of wings far above as the moths shifted on their stalactite nests.
And then he heard the voice of his goddess.
The Old City Must Remember.
Quest - Find the city's heart and awaken it.
[https://i.imgur.com/6NVmTKz.png]
A knife clattered to the table behind him.
“Oh.” The stone woman’s voice was harsh. “So now she talks.” So she had heard it too. Heard the voice of the moon. They must be destined to walk together, seeking purpose and light.
Although she seemed... very angry.