I feel a sense of solace around you dear Reverend, of those upon this ship, you have truly been the kindest. An observation, if you will indulge me —after our delightful conversations, I’ve noticed that you go over to that dark enclosure over there to flip that protruding nozzle in order to extinguish your ship’s captive sunlight in order to mark the end of day. For myself and the rest imprisoned aboard, as we navigate the darkness of the great Bythos, you are he who decides when night or day is and so I look at you only with gratitude as Moth would have too, no doubt. Despite what you may think, she is present in you as well.

So I have hoped you will bare with me as I recall a portion of my story that still causes me some confusion.

Moth and I had made our way out of the swamps of Nerys and into a dry gorge filled with strange looking stones. Some pointing upwards towards the great Bythos some curling over the gorge’s walls clinging to it and drooping downwards. The walls itself rose to an unimaginable degree, possibly over two hundred cubits tall. The gorge itself held together between its walls, multiple layers of rock formations, creating a sort of canopy by which Moth and I travelled under; at the bottom of where the riverbed ran dry.

I still hadn’t become accustomed to walking and relied on my spear for support. It was not as though the eidolons had built themselves for stability but rather clung onto my armor and used them as you would your prosthetic leg. In fact I’ve noticed many aboard the ship have prosthetics of some-kind 

to replace even the most rudimentary of parts. Though I mean not to offend as I was and am, not that much different. 

Parts of the walkway under the canopy had been smoothed to the point of reflecting the minuscule amount of light that dared enter the gorge. Some of the rocks had holed patterns, systematically placed close together, perhaps by some creature or another hoplite who had been practicing his spearmanship. Moth had no issues traversing this rugged terrain as she had the gift of flight. In that moment, I had wished I could have the same (a thought I find hopelessly foolish now). It was then she had given me my first name, Vesper, as the darkness of the canopy rendered my armor shades darker—whilst I had been hunched over like a monastic due to the lameness of my legs. Though I had wrapped myself in my ragged cloak, it had not provided ample protection to exposure. In other words, it had been freezing. The wind began to funnel through the pathway under the canopy and I began to believe it had been those densely fired currents of wind that had poked those systematically patterned intrusion on the rocks around us.

As it grew darker, the winds grew even more harsh and we were forced to take cover in a fortunate alcove. Inside, all we could hear was the savage whistling of expelling wind, forcing small rocks and sediment to fly horizontally as if the pathway had been the barrel of a large infantry weapon. I could not hear Moth and the only obvious option then was to go deeper into the alcove, so I assumed that’s what she had said.

As we went deeper into, what turned out to be a small canal of sorts, we realized that we were not alone inside this shelter as next to us was a corpse, likely long dead. I could not affirm wether it was male or female, I couldn’t be sure either if it was one of us. In fact it looked more like you —dear Reverend, only with its face stiffened, no doubt by time. Its features looked as though they had been entirely rubbed off. 

I made a light with the activation of my spear, a feature Moth reminded me of by bumping her levitating form onto my right hand. I turned my gaze to affix onto the corpse, it had been covered by a black cloth, likely a ceremonial one as it stubbornly would not reflect the blue glow of my spear. The eidolons within me discussed and decided not to approach and instead would look for a spot to rest. In the corner of my eye, I saw Moth approach the corpse-thing and as abruptly as our sun sets to invite the dark of the night, it began to rise. The light of my spear cast upon its featureless face, an expression of malice as it floated up to look down at us. We had been draped within an ever-expanding absence of light. Darkness had spread beneath my atrophied legs, up the walls of the alcove and over our heads. Even Moth, who’s wings of flesh had no room by which to expand, had been trapped in this room outside our reality. Though what had been on my mind then, and remains with me now, was Moth’s unflinching expression. The automaton’s (that was the corpse-thing) face buzzed around as some insects do around flowers, never breaking sight of either of us. Its neck was extended by steel tendrils and as it approached Moth, my prosthetic body began to loosen and expand, tendrils formed by the eidolons pushed out and accelerated my body’s capabilities to overwhelming degrees. Vesper began firing wildly as his gorget dropped down to expose the imitation of a wild beat’s jaws. I watched outside looking into the unfamiliar vacant cavity that had once housed my eye. When I had awoken, I could hear the sound of dense running water and the smell of burning metal.

Apologies dearest Reverend, but you will have to leave me now. I cannot recall the following events and will need time to gather my ever roaming memories.