When the tide had fallen lower, I went to collect mussels covering large rocks out in the harbor. They were all an odd light purple color, distinct from the familiar dark blue I always gathered near my house. Still edible, though! A few black-and-white oystercatchers feasted as well, unperturbed by my presence.
I was unfortunately bereft of my oyster knife, though forcing these mussels open was… not easy, but certainly possible only using hands. Additionally, lacking my favorite rubber boots meant I had to be ridiculously careful not to slice open the soles of my feet. They weren’t extremely soft and vulnerable, but I was all too aware that any infections could spell my death out here.
After eating, I fell asleep on the island’s far side, upwind of the bodies. The night was cool and not uncomfortably cold. I was absolutely no stranger to camping and sleeping out under the stars, but doing so naked was a little too much.
The constellations were different, as well. Just another reminder I was so far from home. It called to mind memories of my parents and I sleeping out on our house’s deck, or camping across the island in Acadia. I would attentively listen and stare for a long time as they described each one, telling tales of heroes and monsters, but inevitably drifted off to sleep...
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I woke to a cacophony of screeches from birds. Climbing up onto a large rock, I briefly watched them devour the other travelers’ remains. Some were powerful enough to rip off and carry away a whole arm. A few were miniature versions of that dragon, with long bodies and many small birdlike wings. Two swooped in, sinking their talons into one of the large scavenger birds. Along with copious amounts of blood, several green, irregularly shaped bubbles floated out upon its death. They looked akin to the ones the spirit had given me, and were lazily snapped up by the dragons.
I crawled down from my rock and cowered a behind a bush. When the dangerous big ones had eaten their fill, I was definitely going to come back later with a few rocks in hand.
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After a much shorter round two of moping around and feeling sorry for myself, I set my sights on figuring out how the hell to use those green triangles. To do magic, because what else could they be for? Despite the continued distaste for my situation, I felt a guilty thrill about the prospect.
Pulling them out was surprisingly easy, only having to focus and grab at somewhere… inside my head, but also not. I certainly looked like a fool, swatting at the air as I tried to manipulate the thing. It was too straining to keep it out for long, making me take constant breaks.
Texts were written on every side of the tetrahedra, in an alphabet that felt so deeply, heart wrenchingly familiar. I couldn’t read a single piece of it, yet vague concepts floated inside my mind in the same way the spirit had communicated.
Two separate lines, incised in an impossibly bright blue color, stood out to me in particular. The vibrancy contrasted with the oxidized bronze-green color of its surface in a way that was almost offensive. They were… powers, or abilities. One was fire, the other vaguer. Something related to water, the salt sea and fresh river, more complex. Mentally pushing at the first prompted a blueprint of sorts. I just had to draw a line along that bit like so, and then push another–
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A tiny white flame bloomed on my palm. It wavered and sputtered as I struggled to feed it a steady stream of power. The flame was warm to the touch, yet I found with a bit of effort it could set tinder alight.
A small, tight-lipped smile crept across my face. Several hours later, upon reaching a satisfactory stopping point, I returned to the cave.
What I saw inside made me reel in horror and outrage. Deep gouges were cut all along the walls, marring beautiful reliefs of long, many-oared ships and marine life, and erasing all the text that accompanied them.
How disgustingly spiteful.
Isn’t this partly your own fault, though, Linus? You could have stood your ground, but scuttled away like a coward.
Although, I reminded myself that those people were powerful enough to make marks several inches deep in rock, and figured my life may as well have been forfeit had I fought. Assuring myself it was a logical decision didn’t quell the feelings of shame.
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Some of the animals depicted in the reliefs were easily identifiable. Octopi, more dolphins, multitudes of fish, sharks., and mermen, too! If they exist, I really want to know what one’s internal anatomy looks like. Not that I would kill one to find out...
I was particularly interested in the fact that more than a few of the bigger fish had lobed fins, in the fashion of a lungfish or coelacanth. Long, wavy, striped eel-like monsters with paddle shaped limbs brought to mind the absent spirit. There were what looked to be massive, toothed whales with whiskers and tiny hind limbs. On the right wall closest to the passageway was a relief depicting a group of humans hunting one. The whale was in its death throes, and many green bubbles seeped out of it, along with four blue rods that a few of the people grasped for.
In several places on the farthest wall, there were new holes. Had those visitors from yesterday had been searching for something hidden?
One, about a foot and a half above the ground, was drilled deep enough to reach my whole forearm in, but I didn’t dare! Looking at the floor directly beneath it, there sat an oblong green stone–serpentinite?–about the width of a cantaloupe. Its surface was absolutely covered in the same written language as on the walls. Even stranger, it had been perfectly split in half down the middle, each side nearly smooth. Only a small chunk was missing, looking to have been deliberately broken off.
Despite appearing entirely dead and inactive, some strange effect remained that prevented me from reading any of the writing carved on it.
I wondered how the disappearance of the spirit and cracking of the stone related to the birds’ sudden appearance this morning. The bodies had certainly been sitting out there for more than a day, yet when I first woke up they had barely been picked at. With that in mind, it was also curious I felt thirsty, but not to the point of desperation. My body was exactly the same superficially, calluses, scars, and all, but I was now sure that some unknown parts of my physiology had been altered.
Ignoring those unsettling thoughts, I peered closer at the walls leading to the room, and it excited me to see that plenty of small inscriptions remained legible! Unfortunately, I suspected the most important information was likely in those two most severely damaged areas in the niche and on the farthest wall.
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I started to read. The text was logophonetic, in that it consisted of both characters that represented a word or phrase, plus ones that represented sounds. It was painfully slow going at first, bringing back old memories of the first time I read a scientific journal article. Aesthetically, it looked rather archaic and pictographic, calling to mind the stark difference between early cuneiform and that used many centuries later by the Assyrians. Most marks were sharp lines and wedge shapes, with the exception of multiple circles occasionally appearing.