01
Vincent

He stepped through the city gates as sandy winds hit him in warm bursts. The crowd of raene took no heed to him, more concerned about their own days. In this moment, he did not exist to anyone but himself.

It was his second step when he heard a commotion near the gate. Turning around, he saw a man with long dark hair and slim horns decorated with silver jewelry; he was speaking frantically to the guards. He wore similar attire to them, a white and lavender uniform, but the epaulets and the braided cord hanging from his shoulder signified a knight of higher rank. And when the man finally spotted him, he came running towards him.

A third, a fourth, and a fifth step were used to get distance. He heard the man calling out to him: “Vincent! Vincent, stop!”. The man wasn’t far behind.

A sixth, a seventh, and an eighth step. If he could outrun the man, then he was free.

Nine steps, then a tenth…

But he did not make it farther. The man had caught up to him and grabbed him by the arm.

“L-Let go of me!” He tried to tug his arm free, but the man would not let go. He didn’t understand how Reese had found him so quickly.

“Enough, Vincent! What has gotten into you?!” Reese yelled, and that was all it took for Vincent to finally give up. “We’re going home.” Reese grabbed him by the shoulder and push him back toward the gate. “Now.”

Folks stared as Reese escorted him back into the city, but no one took interest in stopping them. Reese kept a tight grip on Vincent’s shoulder, as if trying to keep him from pulling another stunt. But there was no other stunt, no contingency Vincent had planned—he truly thought he’d be able to leave the walls of Janahad without being noticed.

When the two of them returned to the estate, Reese was fuming.

“What is the matter with you, Vincent?” Reese began. “I’ve been searching all around the city, terrified that something had happened to you, but here I find you trying to run away!”

Vincent kept his eyes towards the floor. Fights like this were common between them, but it still didn’t sting any less.

“Are you even listening to me?!” Reese snapped. When he saw that Vincent had flinched, however, he took a deep breath before starting again. “I’m concerned about you, Vinnie,” he said “You’re expected to take your pilgrimage as Regis soon, yet there’s still so much to do before you take your father’s place. You’re falling behind.”

He’d heard Reese berate him on this topic enough time. No matter what Vincent did, Reese would never recognize him as the Regis Vicaria. He would always been seen as a failure of an archivist. It’s a wonder Vincent hadn’t run away sooner.

He had an idea of where this conversation was going to go, so before Reese had the chance to continue, Vincent turned sharply on his heels and made his way upstairs.

“Don’t you walk away from me, Vincent!” But Reese made no attempts to stop him. Vincent went straight towards his room and slammed the door shut.

Now alone, he slid down the door and onto the ground. He couldn’t understand how Reese had found him so quickly—he had studied the fastest routes out of the Cypriene estate, the guard rotation, where the closest outposts and towns were to Janahad—everything. He made sure to tell no one and to leave no trail he couldn’t clean up.

He had to know what he did wrong, which step had the error in it. He searched his satchel, but couldn’t find his notes. He patted the outside of the bag, then his person. He got off the floor and looked over his desk. Still he could not find his notes. It was only when he checked the bookcase did he find the leather-bound journal lying haphazardly on the one of the shelves. Flipping through the pages, he went to where his most recent entries were… and found that a page had been ripped out.

He went through my journal! He was sick and tired of Reese treating him like a kid, but this felt like a step too far. He nearly chucked the book against the wall, but instead let out a groan as he plopped onto the floor again defeated.

Perhaps he could try again another day when the time was right, but he doubted his retainer would fall for this again.

Vincent pulled his knees closer to his chest. He just wanted to go home.

There was a knock at his door. “Vinnie?” came the sound of Reese’s voice “May I come in?”

No, no you may not.

“What do you want?” Vincent asked flatly.

There was a pause, then an envelope was slipped underneath the door.

“Your audience has been requested.”

An audience? This wasn’t the first time his audience had been requested, but Reese had always turned them away. This seemed suspicious.

His curiosity was stronger than his skepticism, however, and he got up to pick the envelop off the ground. Sure enough, it was a letter asking for Regis’ aid. It described an excavation happening to the south of Janahad, where a massive sinkhole had opened and revealed an ancient structure within it. Despite several attempts, they were still unable to piece together the structure’s purpose or how to get inside.

‘Perhaps with the Regis Vicaria’s help, we can finally put the mystery to rest’, were the final words written before the letter was neatly signed by the site’s director.

Vincent opened the door, holding up the letter for Reese to see. “Why?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked why. You’ve never let me do stuff like this, so why now?”

“… It would be good experience,” was Reese’s response. “A Regis’ duty is to keep record of these things, after all. Surely there is some knowledge we have that can help the archaeologists.” He cleared his throat. “We leave tomorrow morning. I expect you to be ready by then.”

With that, Reese took his leave, going elsewhere within the residence. Vincent still remained in the door frame, gripping the decorative envelope in his hands.

For the first time in six years, he would be leaving the city.

An automobile waited for them outside the southern gate the next morning. The drive there was monotonous, only made worse by Vincent’s own anticipation. He remembered hearing about the excavation happening not too long ago, but only now was he privy to the details.

“A giant building at the bottom of a sinkhole,” Vincent said. “What do you think it is?”

“We’ll find out,” said Reese. Vincent thought his answer was boring.

He leaned back into his seat, watching as they traveled over the dusty and broken terrain. As they approached the site, he realized just how large of an operation it was. It looked like a tiny city, with temporary structures and tents densely packed together into neat rows around the perimeter of the sinkhole. The site workers took no heed to them as they passed, some carrying digging tools as they headed deeper into the site.

The automobile pulled up to one particular tent, decorated slightly more fancily than the others. A portly older gentleman dressed in a tweed vest waited outside for them, standing out from the rest of the site workers. He likely was a professor from one of Janahad’s universities.

“Oh good, you’ve arrived!” the man said as Vincent and Reese stepped out of the vehicle. He introduced himself as the site director, though frankly, Vincent had already forgotten his name.

The director beckoned for them to walk with him, as he explained the current situation of the site. He spoke primarily to Reese, despite being informed it was Vincent that the site was expecting. It annoyed him, but Vincent couldn’t say he was surprised. Reese held himself in away that made him respected as an authority. Vincent looked like a child in comparison.

While Reese and the director were preoccupied, Vincent slowed down his pace before taking a turn between some of the structures. It likely wouldn’t be long before Reese noticed his absence; he wanted to explore the site for himself.

He followed the flow of workers to know where to go. For the most part, no one paid him any mind, Vincent only receiving an occasional glance as a new face in the site. He was sure the site workers were informed about the Regis arriving, but Vincent knew he didn’t look the part. Maybe they were expecting someone more refined like Reese or maybe someone older and wiser like his father. Certainly not him.

He eventually found himself near the center the excavation site, where the rows of tents ended and the sinkhole in question resided. It was massive, nearly a mile or two in diameter that then dropped starkly into the ground. A railing had been built around parts of the circumference and in other parts, he could see the starts of wooden ramps swirling into the depths. The railing looked shoddy, but it didn’t stop Vincent from leaning over the edge to get a better view of the main attraction.

At the very bottom of the sinkhole was the structure in question, a large square building embedded within the ocher sandstone. He could make out two large statues of the Administrator framing the entrance, their limbs part of the pillars they were carved from and their eyes closed in serenity. In front of the structure looked to be a courtyard with four more statues at each corner. They were much smaller than the statues on the structure, but if he had to guess, they likely depicted the four Patrons, the first among the deities the Admin created.

Vincent wanted to get a closer look, already scoping out the best way down. But when he turned around to leave, he found Reese was standing behind him, visibly annoyed.

“Ran off again, did we?”

“I wanted to see what we were working with,” Vincent said.

“You’ll certainly see plenty of it while we’re here,” Reese said. “Now come on, we have work to do.”

He followed after Reese, but not without stealing one final look at the structure. It was faint, but he thought he saw something glow near the entrance.

Vincent and Reese were given free reign to peruse the research that had been conducted so far. Vincent didn’t know what to expect from his first experience in the field, but he was still surprised to be reading panicked reports of strange phenomena. One report mentioned sigils appearing on the exterior the building the disappearing when anyone got close. Another mentioned a stain glass window above the entrance that had a section of it broken, but when workers returned the next morning, it was mended completely. To top it all off, there were many notes about a possible deity being spotted at the entrance of the structure.

“A deity, huh.” Vincent picked up another report to read through, but he was starting to lose focus. “Do you think the place might be a domain of some kind?”

“Isn’t that what you are suppose to be figuring out?” Reese replied. He was also buried in another stack of reports.

“I mean, yeah, but you have more experience with this stuff than I do. Thought I’d try and ask.”

“I think this would be easier if we knew how to get inside,” said Reese.

“Is there some kind of lock on the entrance?”

Reese handed a paper to him. “No evidence of one. It’s just sealed shut.”

“Well, why don’t we take a look for ourselves?” Vincent suggested. “We haven’t been in the sinkhole yet, maybe we’ll find something the site hasn’t.” Truthfully, he was much more interested in seeing the deity that had been spotted.

Reese considered it for a moment, then eyed him with suspicion. “Are you just saying that to get out of work?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he playfully admitted. “Besides, I doubt you want to be surrounded by stacks of paper all day. It’s good experience, right?”

“Fine. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.”

On cue, Vincent tossed the paper aside and exited the tent, hearing Reese’s defeated sigh behind him

Outside, the sun had already begun to dip below the horizon. Was it really evening already? It was quiet too, the atmosphere being filled only by the sound of bugs and the soft hum of the lights scattered among the site.

“That’s… odd,” Reese spoke. He looked around concerned. “Where is everyone?”

“Maybe everyone just went home for the evening,” Vincent said.

“Perhaps.” But he didn’t seem convinced.

They made their way to one of the ramps and descended into the sinkhole, the noise of above becoming muffled the deeper they went. Vincent could now see the stained glass window mentioned in the reports, decorated in colorful iconography of the Patrons that contrasted the otherwise beige surroundings. It glowed with a foreign light, suggesting that a light source still survived inside.

They entered the courtyard, being greeted by the faded visages of the Patrons as their statues faced the entrance of the grand structure. It was there that they saw a sigil of a bow and arrow had been burned into the large wooden doors.

“I thought you said there wasn’t a lock,” Vincent commented.

“There shouldn’t be,” Reese replied. “It looks new. Could be related to the reports of sigils appearing around the site.”

Vincent wasn’t certain. Those reports mentioned sigils appearing like mirages, disappearing as one got closer. This appeared more tangible, powerful. It demanding him to pay attention.

Without thinking, he got closer to the entrance. It felt as if he was being pulled in by a presence.

He reached out to touch it.

It was… warm.

The ground shook, bellowing as if threatening to rip the earth open beneath them. He heard Reese yell something and felt his retainer grab onto him, but Vincent remained transfixed on the sigil. It glowed with a beautiful color beneath his hand, liquefying and dissolving back into the door.

The tremors crescendoed as cracks formed on the sandstone walls of the sinkhole. But they would not open as the earthquaked died just as quickly as it had begun.

With an audible creak, doors to the structure began to open.