A M A L I A
LEFT
More arrive: one familiar, the other strange, but all apparently drawn here by the same sentient siren call. Amalia regards them with curious interest, her head nodding slightly as she returns
Remi's smile.
"Not out here," she replies to
Desmond;
what's in there may be hangs unspoken in the cool night air, with none appearing willing to discuss the danger, the thing that drew them all to this place. They do not need to- they all understand, and as a group they descend into darkness, Amalia falling in behind Archebold as the darkness envelops them all.
Shadows wrap around them, plunging the group into night. Amalia shivers against the darkness, resisting the urge to run, to escape, a lifelong fear of what cannot be seen gripping coldly at her heart. She is grateful, now, for the glow of her lantern, the light cast flickering but refusing to go out, illuminating passageways that split up ahead as well as the faces of her strange companions. The first to arrive,
Samuel, is the first to speak, proposing they take the leftward branch -
East, she thins,
toward Vi, and the quiet prayer reassures her.
Less reassuring is
Archebold's decision to veer to the right, splitting the already fragile group. For a moment Amalia's mouth flies open, but just as quickly it snaps shut as realization hits her: he can see in the dark because he's an Ascended, one of
them, creations of the New Gods and usurpers of the Old (if the legends are to be believed). Of
course the man is arrogant, of
course he wants to split the group. Still irked, Amalia steps forward, her fragile lantern held high as the girl makes up her mind.
"I'll go with you," she murmurs to Samuel.
"Since I have a light." Her dark eyes flicker back to Archebold before turning to look at the other two men.
"We shouldn't separate out too far - these tunnels are dangerous." And dark.
