(First entry from the Diary of V.Dorofeyev, translated from the original Slavic by O.Delacroix)

i.

With the help of Pavel and Yngvild, I was able to close the portal, sealing the cavern behind us before we were driven mad.  Even now, a handful of days later, the site of divinity burns like a fever in my mind like a siren, calling out to me.  My companions feel it too.  Pavel weeps openly at the memory of our short sojourn beneath the veil of stars and I can see the longing writ upon the Dane’s face.  I fear that the temptation may prove too much if we remain near. With a strength of will I thought no longer possible, we sought an escape from the darkness of these endless caverns.

I paused, glancing at the stone door that had defeated me through which the architect of the discovered journal had passed through. How long ago, I wondered.  Likely years, perhaps even decades.  He described what lay beyond as Divine.  The sky, Isshu had told her.  The stars.  Heaven. Had he meant the heavens or, as the words left behind for her suggested, the realm of the Highest upon High? 

“Impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head at the thought.  Madness.  And yet, I was proof that anything under the sun was possible, if improbable. 

Closing the cloth bound journal, I reclined on my side, my wings curling around my torso as I slowly flipped through the pages, using the dim light within the chamber, as well as my newly evolved eyesight, to peruse further, my spirit growing with each new entry.

viii.

Pavel has been complaining of head pains for several days now.  I fear it is more than a simple lack of sleep, a symptom of the nightmares that have plagued him since returning to the surface.  Yngvild, on the other hand, seems little changed by our brush with divinity, content with feasting upon the fruit that grow in abundance.  I, as well, although I fought the temptation longer than she.  In truth, I believe that our endless rutting has helped preserve our sanity.  If only Pavel would give in to his base desires as well.

xv.

We discovered Pavel’s body at the bottom of a cliff, the tides beginning to wash over it.  It was obvious that he’d taken his own life.  Once we numbered a dozen.  Now we are two.

xxi.

Again, I ventured beneath the ground, this time alone.  As before, I felt a presence as I passed through the enormous pooled cavern prickling at my senses, a vague sense of dread leaving its mark upon my psyche until I had left the dark waters far beyond.  Only when I entered the anti-chamber did I feel at ease once more.  I spent a day, perhaps less, perhaps more, searching the confined space.  Other than the portal through which he had passed, the only feature of note was a rectangular depression.  I made a note of it, thoughtful that I might make use of it in the future to hide what I had stolen.

I put the book down, my gaze travelling to the slim metal container that I had also discovered, my curiosity piqued.  What might be hidden within, I wondered, carefully turning page after page, searching for some clue, eventually finding it in the last, tragic, entry.

lxv.

With Yngvild’s passing, I am truly alone.  I will soon join her.  I hope and pray that the contents of these pages, as well as what I have hidden with them, are never discovered.  If they are, take heed my warning and forget that they exist.  Having not the means to destroy what was taken without consent I have done my best to hide away the tools of my destruction.   God bless.  

V.Dorofeyev.

I reached out, pulling the container closer with one hand, the other pillowed under my head.  Despite the Russian’s warning, there was little doubt in my mind that I could leave it unopened and simply forget of its existence. The only real question was if I would keep its existence to myself or share it and, if so, with whom?  Until I knew what lay within, it was a question I had no answer for. 

“What secrets did you discover, Vasily?” I murmured softly before holding my breath and opening the lid with trembling fingers, revealing a trio of small items within; sixteen centimetre long rods made of a crystalline material.  Without touching them, I examined them carefully, curious as to their nature.  One resembled an hour glass, fusing two triangles together that their points. Another, an eight pointed star, while the third had a vague figure eight appearance.  At the end of each piece was attached a fragile looking ring of gold.  Carefully, I run the tip of my finger caressingly over the surface of the hourglass, letting out a soft gasp as my touch revealed a netting of delicate veins of red pulsing upon the surface in the wake of my fingertip.  As soon as I withdrew my touch, the unearthly lights faded quickly.  A riddle, one that hadn’t been mentioned within the pages of the accompanying journal.  One more mystery to unravel.  An internal debate followed upon the merits of leaving my find secreted away to be perused upon some future date or removing them from their sanctuary in hopes that either Prel or Isshu could shed light on their purpose.

In the end, I decided that one more secret would do no harm and closed the lid, replacing both the metal box and the journal in their hiding place before, once more, testing my strength against the stone guarding ‘Heaven’, my effort valiant yet fruitless. Just another secret, this time, kept from me, to tally up.  Frustrated, I retraced my steps towards the chamber I shared with my alien lover, barely noticing my passage, so lost in thought was, confident in my footfalls, despite the darkness of the passage.

The first hint of danger came suddenly, setting my heart stuttering and my pulse racing as adrenaline burned through me like wildfire.

“Little butterfly, are you lost?”

I felt fear prickle up and down my spine at the words and then, another sensation, that of needle pricks upon the flesh of my shoulder, recalling a memory of exile a seeming lifetime ago.

“Non!” I exclaimed, whirling to face the nameless silky smooth voice. 

It – or rather, he – laughed softly.  “Oh, but I think you are.”

I felt several more pinpricks upon my inner thigh, and recoiled, backing up quickly, my fluttering wings brushing against the cold stone walls.

“What do you want with me?” I whispered, fighting my fear as something cold and hard brushed against my breast, invisible, despite my enhanced eyesight.

“Merely to sing you songs, little butterfly. Unless, you desire more…”

I shivered as I felt a touch on my nipple, enticing it to swell and harden with lust.  So, too, did my sex respond.  I could feel my pussy flooding with desire, betraying me, my aroma almost pungent in my nostrils.

“Non,” I whimpered softly, shaking my head unsurely, eliciting another chuckle.

“You cannot deny what your body so readily reveals, princess.”  Again I felt his touch, this time along my flank, slowly descending, needle tips tickling inward, teasing over my exposed belly, and then lowering as I stood motionless, frozen in place.  I tried to fight the hunger that was welling up within my core, fought to keep my lids from closing as something sharp and hard traced my engorged lips, the touch both menacing and sensuous.

“Bumble bee sleeps, pretty princess, grasshopper dies. Dragonfly hunts, little princess, devouring flies. Butterfly fights, pretty princess, against overwhelming need. But spiders know how, little princess, her desires to feed,” he sang, punctuating the word ‘princess’ by brushing a cold hard digit against my pleasure nub, until I could no longer think straight.

“Please, stop,” I managed, the words devoid of power as I reached out, clasping at shadows, surprised to find my fingers closing on something tangible.

“Is that truly what you wish?” he teased wickedly.

“Non,” I whispered, grip tightening desperately.

“I thought not, little butterfly,” he said with a chuckle, an inky black silhouette fleetingly suggesting a monstrous shape, lost before I could find a name for it.  “She asked me to bring you to her.  Willingly.  Or not.”

I couldn’t help but hear the emotion evoked in the word ‘She’, a strange mixture of lust, terror, and awe. Whomever ‘She’ was, he was her creature, of that, I had little doubt.  A shiver cascaded through me as I felt yet another touch.  Fingers combing through my hair, leaving me paralyzed with fear.  I had little doubt about having choice to refuse the invitation.  Nor did I wish to, as I felt the stirring of curiosity within my breast.

“I accept,” I managed, the words a breathless whisper, turning to an almost silent gasp as my wrist was imprisoned by inhuman fingers, forcing my bare feet to follow. 

Soon, I was led into another passage, so well hidden that I would never had discovered it without a guide. Despite my superior vision, I found myself stumbling in an almost mystical darkness, one that I could never have navigated with help.

“What are you called?” I queried, panting, as we took pause after passing through a crevice so narrow that I feared I would become trapped, wedged forever between unforgiving stone.

“Hers,” he simply replied.  Once again, the word spoke volumes.  I chose to remain silent, having no ready reply at hand. After that small exchange we continued in silence. For how long, I had no idea, quickly losing track of time on our trek to meet my guide’s mysterious mistress, lost in the maze of passages so that I was at my guide’s mercy.

Eventually, the inky black lessened, and I was able to see clearly again with my enhanced vision. Before us, the passage way grew wider and I felt a light breeze carrying the musky scent of mold mixed with a subtle hint of sulphur. I would have paused, save the sudden grip upon my bicep pulling me forward with a strength I could not match, until we stood upon a ledge, side by side, overlooking what could only be described as a crooked chimney that disappeared into the earth. Lifting my face I saw that it rose towards the surface as well, twisting and turning. Reaching out with my free hand, I explored the chute.  The walls were worn smooth.

“A vent,” I surmised out loud. “A volcano.  Inactive.  I hope.” The last was muttered under my breath and became a scream of surprise as I was suddenly pushed from the edge, scrabbling at the walls vainly for purchase as I plummeted towards my death, my wings useless in the confined space, sliding along the passage, gathering a myriad of bruises until I came to a sudden and unexpected stop.

It felt like I’d fallen into a net, bouncing softly after I’d landed. The strands that supported me felt tacky against my skin as I struggled to sit up, tugging at my skin. Had I been a lesser creature, I surmised, I might have been trapped, stuck to the webbing. As it was, it took an effort to free myself and I could feel their residue clinging to my skin as slowly crawled my way to the stone that supported them, breathless as settled myself upon a narrow ledge, my legs hanging between the supporting strands.

“A web,” I mused, thinking it was a fitting trap for the creature that had sent me tumbling, cursing him under my breath as I recovered. As I sat, poised, I let my gaze wander, focusing on finding an exit from my predicament, my eyes eventually settling upon a neatly carved bore, barely discernable in the near total darkness. 

“Skillet to coals,” I mumbled, wondering what dangers lay hidden in darkness.  Not like there was much choice. And so I crawled, on hands and knees, into the unnatural tunnel and hoped for the best, my heart beating nervously with each passing minute as I made my way towards the unknown, with neither the sun nor stars to guide me.

oOo

Time and distance meant very little as I made my way through the winding passage. In places it opened up so that I could walk upright, bent slightly at the waist, for short distances. How long I travelled, I do not know.  Nor how far.  I only know that I grew hungry as well as tired and dozed uncomfortably for a short while before forging ahead once more.  One thing I did know.  The path was set at an incline taking me deeper into the earth.  Again, I could not gauge how deep, nor where, exactly, in relationship to the island’s topography.  And then, I sensed a change in the air I breathed. Subtle, at first, but growing stronger as I made my way through yet another widening of the tunnel; the scent of flowers, strangely enough. Impossible this far down, and yet, my senses disagreed with my rational mind.  Eventually the darkness grew less, enough so that I could see my hands in front of my face.  Curious, I took note of patches of fluorescent lichen adorning the rock ceiling overhead. Confident that my sojourn was coming to an end, at least for now, I continued on, hands trailing along the rock walls as I stepped carefully in the semi-darkness, the floral perfume growing stronger with each step, until I heard a noise that made me pause; water burbling. An underground spring, I surmised, cocking my head and listening intently, the sudden realization of how thirsty I was quickening my steps as I resumed my march.

Soon, I discovered a small cavern. The size of a parlor, perhaps, had we been in London.  Here, the lichen grew thickly, illuminating a small pool, its surface bubbling as if being fed from below. I wasted no time in falling to my knees and scooping up handfuls of the icy liquid, quenching my parched throat before assessing the rest of the small expanse. For the first time since I’d fallen down the volcanoes bore, I wondered if I would ever see Isshu or Prel again.  A sobering thought, admittedly, but one that I could hardly ignore. Briefly, I allowed myself to weep at my predicament before finding a core of resolve deep within. I had survived too much to remain lost underground forever. Surely there was a purpose to this, one that I could only discover by continuing my trek.  It was then that I noticed the blood red buds lining the walls like veins near the tunnels continuance. Moving nearer, I realized that they were the source of the fragrance that teased at my nostrils.  They were obviously flowering buds, although how they managed to survive without the sun’s light to nourish them was yet another mystery I feared I might never solve.

Thinking of the berries I picked one, careful to avoid the needle-like thorns that surrounded them, and held it to my lips, letting the tip of my tongue sample the outer petals.  There was a bitterness to it, and a hint of tart. Neither pleasant, nor unpleasant. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they said. I tasted it, biting it in too, letting it sit on my tongue for several moments before swallowing.  And then, I simply waited, wondering what properties it might have.

Eventually, I discerned that, unlike the lustberries, this flower had no secrets, and so moved on, exiting the cavern opposite, my way lit by the strange lichens that covered, not only the walls, but the floor now, soft as moss under my bare feet.

At least the passage had grown, both wider and taller, allowing me comfortable egress as it wound through the earth, sloping upwards now.  Again, I lost all track of time, resting as I grew weary, my stomach growling with hunger, until I once more began to despair of being lost forever beneath the earth.  The thought that I would die here, without witness nor grave, worried at me considerably.  Thankfully, before all hope could flee, I came upon a stairway carved in the rocks and spiraling upwards.  Uttering a brief prayer that it would lead to freedom, I ascended wearily, my energy waning with each step, never imagining the strange and magical sight that awaited me at the top step, a scene that I could never have imagined.

I stood upon what I can only describe as a railed platform looking out over an underground contained beneath a huge dome of stone.  Upon the water, or, more precisely, rising up out of the lake like an island, were a multitude of alien looking spires, creating the look of a miniature city. I stood, silent and in awe of the site, examining the sprawl of machinery, for surely, that was what it was, gauging by the huge wires and gears that decorated it.  At one time, they must have had a purpose but, at present, all was silent and motionless.

“Yes, a great purpose.” 

The disembodied metallic voice startled me. I spun to my right in a panic, searching for the speaker, my eyes drawn to a small metal box, the side facing me covered in thin copper mesh.

“Where-“ I trailed off, stepping closer as I heard a soft chuckle issue forth, peering through the grid.

“Merely a tool to project my voice. I am not so small as to conceal myself thus.  Greetings my little insect.”  I heard mockery in her voice, and a spark of anger blossomed in my breast.

“I am not an insect, and certainly not yours.”

Another chuckle. Most certainly feminine.  I almost slapped my forehead with my palm.  A speaker box, of course.  Not common, but I had heard of such things, once upon a time, before I’d been marooned on this isle. 

“You have a backbone.  Good.”

“What are you?” I demanded, ignoring the comment.  “What do you wish from me?”

“An exile.  The last of my kind.  Perhaps I wish only to learn about you.” There was a long drawn out pause before she amended her thought.  “Perhaps.”

She remained silent, leaving me alone with my thoughts, fearful and yet, curious. Eventually, my desire to know more won out over caution.

“It is your machine…?” I gestured, unsure if it – she – could see or sense my movement, towards the center of the dark waters.

“A Ship and yet, not a ship.  Lifeless now.”

“And you are alone?”

My supposition was greeted with amusement.  “Not at all.  I have hatched many children.”  I felt a frisson pass through me, thinking of the creature that sang lullabies in the dark.

“The creature who led me here?”

“My current mate.” 

“Oh,” I responded simply as I began to explore the small platform, running my hand along the rusted metal railing, trying to collect my thoughts before speaking. 

“Your ship, you say.  Where have you travelled from?” I mused out loud, my gaze sweeping the water’s surface before coming to rest upon the alien ship once more. 

“Farther than you can imagine.  Enough questions for now.  Come to me.  I await you.”

For the first time since setting eyes upon the dark lake, I became aware of the sounds filling the vast expanse of the cavern; the pulse of water against stone.  The sigh of a subtle breeze.  The barely heard echoing thrum of distant machinery.  And the soft buzz of electrical current in the distance as suddenly lights began to flicker across the water in sequence, each one closer, illuminating a previously invisible bridge from the platform upon which I stood to the alien ship.

Not much of a walkway.  Made of wire so thin that it would be impossible to see without the aid of the soft blue glowing globes affixed to it every two meters or so.  Nor would it be easy to travel without the aid of my wings to keep my bare feet balanced on the precarious pathway. Turning around wasn’t an option, nor would I have, even if it was.  With a deep breath, I tested the wire with one foot, finding it both sturdy enough to bear my weight, and steady.  And thus, I made my way slowly and carefully, towards the center of the underground lake, all my concentration upon each single step until, finally I came to another platform - set perhaps 40 metres from my destination - and was given the opportunity to get a much closer look.

From where I stood, I could tell that the spires rising from the water where only a portion of the creation.  The platform beneath my feet was, in fact, one end of an oblong shape just under the surface upon which they were attached.  A submersible vessel! Although I had never been aboard one, I was aware of the existence of submarines, as they were commonly referred to.  And an impressive one, at that, easily as large as the Golden Dove.  Although Alien, at least to my eyes, it was a familiar enough design.  I realized that, if I wished, I would forego walking upon the precarious wire bridge and use the surface of the underwater ship instead, although I would be wading in waist deep waters to do so. I tried dipping my toe into the lake and shivered as ice invaded my flesh.  Immersing myself purposefully into the frozen liquid seemed a most unpleasant option.  I turned my focus, once more, upon the spires.  They appeared to be fashioned from steel, as did the mechanisms and gear attached, although I detected vast arrays of tubes and wiring connecting them that were either copper or gold – it was impossible to tell. And glass as well.  Thick panes that served as windows, or so I guessed, although I could not see beyond them; mostly portal sized, though some as small as my own eye.  Bulbs, too, decorated the surfaces, recessed in the metal so that only small glass domes were visible. I only realized their function when I heard the soft hum of electrical current rise in volume and they came to life in a plethora of primary colours; blue, green, amber, and red, for the most part.

“Welcome to the Eye of Thermisto.”

The sudden announcement startled me, causing me to gasp, my heart racing suddenly as I heard a sound not unlike steam escaping a kettle directly beneath, preceding the floor of the platform disappearing with a suddenness that took me by surprise.  In vain, I grasped at the safety of the bridge over which I’d been travelling, as I plummeted, once more, into an unknown darkness. Before I could draw breath to scream, a loud crack nearly deafened me, followed by an explosion of light that effectively blinded me for the span of a dozen heartbeats.  When, finally, I could see again, although imperfectly, I found myself in what appeared to be a large cage, being observed by a creature, both terrible and beautiful in aspect...