Spark in the Abyss

Andromeda sighs.

It’s finally over.

She came here seeking adventure, and boy, did she find it. Or rather, it found her and everyone else here who got wrapped up in the action. She takes a look at her fellow brows, Satyrs, and ‘bulls and drinks in the relieved smiles and tired but happy faces. It fills her weary bones and makes her feel like she was just a part of something big and worthwhile. She’s surprised to find the city residents immediately resuming the festivities after such a harrowing situation, but she supposes they must be used to these inkly beings and the potential hazards that come along with living so close to them. Despite her exhaustion, she’s reinvigorated by all the revelry and joins in the celebration once more.

She shares drinks and food with Angea and the others in the group that ventured out to the scarlet fields, swapping theories on the inklings inside their bottles or talking about the worlds they came from and all other matters of casual conversation over fried foods and sweet treats. She’s a few forkfuls into a piece of bulb cake bigger than her head when Cteno sashays into the crowd toting that multi-eyed beast on a leash as if they were walking a dog. An oversized, dangerous, ink-dripping dog.

It’s comical, for a moment, watching the formerly gruesome beast walk heel to the tiny blue Kitbull… and then, all too suddenly, the thing sees Angea and snaps. It flings poor Cteno somewhere into the crowd and looks as if it’s about to mow her down. Maybe it wasn’t over.

And yet… something inside told her that it meant no harm.

That feeling, thankfully, turned out to be right. Instead of straight up eating her like many of them likely thought it was going to, the creature hacked up a glob of ink into her hands. Which, by the look on Angea’s face, might be almost as bad.

There isn’t much time for them all to dwell on the intention behind the offering before the beast is already trampling off in another direction. Follow, it seems to say, and they all reluctantly do. Andromeda ignores the ache in her feet after spending so much time walking back and forth around the entire city, too spurred on by fascination and sheer curiosity. What other secrets could this place possibly hold?

The city they come upon feels utterly abandoned. It holds a different ambiance than the sunkern caverns where the Dalon had led them before. There’s not a trace of aura, neither present or lingering, suggesting no creature of her kin has been here in a long, long time. The emptiness of the streets and the air despite the clearly visible candles in the windows of the homes made this place truly eerie.

She looks around, trying to decide where to investigate first. The architecture of these buildings, while not entirely unique, look like an outdated version of the structures built in the city above. If the City of Ink truly is thousands of years old… could this be the original city? Did something happen here long ago that caused the people who once lived here to flee to the surface?

It was a disturbing thought, yet not totally unfounded in this place so intrinsically linked to the Void. She can feel its presence here, but it almost feels… cold. It’s a strange feeling, not quite uncomfortable, not quite painful, but there. She can’t shake it no matter how hard she tries to focus on anything else. This indescribable energy is felt most strongly near the strange building that the Dalon initially led them to. Angea and Cteno look like they’ve got that covered, so Andromeda decides to stay out of the way… for now. There’s plenty else to explore out here!

A few steps away, there’s an open crater blocked off by an incomplete fence. She doesn’t get too close - just enough to look down. She squints through the darkness, but her eyesight is unable to reach to the very bottom. Maybe it was just really really deep. Or maybe there’s a magical darkness there, keeping all light away from its depths.

She can’t tell and figures there isn’t much she can do there now, so she turns around and wanders to a different area. It looks almost like a park. There’s no playgrounds or soft grass or trees - not a single thing seems to grow down here, only cold stone, unlike in the waves of scarlet above - but there’s an open clearing with paved stone and things that look like benches. She passes through it and finds a Satyr trying to open a door to a large building. It’s not locked, she finds, but something on the other side is blocking their entry. They work together to force it open and tentatively step inside.

It’s just as any house you’d expect to find in nearly any other world. A family could have lived here, judging by the number of rooms it has. She looks through cabinets, closets, anything she can find to inspect. Part of her feels like she’s invading the privacy of whoever used to live here, searching through their belongings like this. But that’s what historians do, right? Learn about the past by studying the present? She hopes something good will come of the information she finds here.

She continues this way, learning as much as she can about the surroundings and jotting down anything she finds particularly interesting.