A Song Of Finns And Dorans
The Temple, Etzos Underground, Ashan 16th, arc 718
Nothing good ever came out of the underground and nothing good entered it either. It was said that all who crossed the threshold from the world above into the underbelly of the city were given an invisible mask to wear. The cynics however suggested that it was not those who entered that wore masks, but rather those that left, for in the civilized world they restrained themselves, shook hands, smiled friendly, pretended to care.
No one cares. That was what Finn thought as he travelled the slippery semi-dark of the underground, making sure not to stop or draw unwanted attention. No one cares about anyone except themselves.
This was no less true with Zipper. She had offered, or commanded rather, to help. He’d accepted, but when he’d paused to think why she was coming to his aid, why she’d always come to his aid at the last moment, he knew it couldn’t be selfless love. He knew for sure now it wasn’t that. Not since he’d read the letter his mother had written to Zipper, the one he’d hunted for so long, the one she had finally given him two trials past.
It read: ...Your brother will need you. He will need your protection always, your attention always, your love always. I so dearly wish I wouldn’t have to ask these things of you but he cannot survive without you and you not without him. You must be the mother that he never had and will never have. He has no one else. You have just each other...
There was a bend in the road that led to a dark, unlit section of the underground. Not many people dared to venture there, but Finn knew that there was a slight drop after a few paces through the muck, and then another bend, this time to the right, hard to find, a pain in the ass to climb and crawl through, but nicely hidden from sight. Then there was a slide, or sewer-pipe rather, downward before landing in what was simply known as “The Temple”. Finn readied himself for the sudden end to the slide and landed smoothly on the other side with a crack of his kneecaps.
The rats that lived there squeaked and scattered, leaving only the hollow echo of his landing for company. When they’d first discovered The Temple they thought, just like everyone else, that they were the first to find it. They weren’t, of course, as evidenced on one midsummer night when they’d sneaked off to stash some stolen goods, only to find a gaunt beggar having taken up lodgings in their secret temple. There was no one there now though.
A small crack in the ceiling let in some light from above making the wet, mossy stone under his feet glitter with a thousand little stars. The bells of Etzos tolled in the distance. It was time. As if on cue, she tapped him on the shoulder.
