Work Text:
Incandescent souls danced along the distant shoreline, spotlighted by a formidable lighthouse. Cold seawater peaked in gentle waves at your hips, its pattern softly illuminated by lamplight. Pink sand crested within the small channel as it led in a bloody path to ruined buildings. Thick fog set in not a moment after your boots met the grain. It swirled through the sky in cosmic warning, preventing any sliver of natural rays.
Dark boulders lined the dirt path, coated healthily in sea spray and slaty moss. Candles cradled gravestones, both meticulously kept and broken. Their owners stayed near, misty against the night yet filled with the lights they once carried. Each footfall echoed into the obscured isle as you approached a fork in the simplistic road.
To the left, a battered storage space. Scrap-like metal boxes rest by shattered walls, holding anything from an abomination of the Fatui’s creation to rations. Best not to explore that option.
To the right, the ever-alluring lighthouse. Pristine on its rocky perch, untouched by time nor weather. Two lanterns hang on rope above the presumed sitting area, entirely still despite the frosty breeze. This option wouldn’t be any better, it seems. At least this way you may find a sign of life.
There certainly would be none in the Maroon Basin. The Wild Hunt ensured that. Though noble, the Lightkeeper’s concern with the Fatui’s domain still served to perplex. If they were so determined to take charge of Nod-Krai, let them find out what such entails.
Perhaps you’ve never quite been suited for this job.
To the right it is.
Clean-cut cerulean grass gave way to metallic steps, rising forward to an empty bench and table. Tools lay at the ready, organized neatly beside pots and an oil can. Behind the array of rust-tinted grey sits a door. It is decorated in the fashion of a fellow Ratnik, yet no sign of a resident can be found behind the glass patternings. Further up, then.
The metallic steps picked up into a ramp after the landing, guiding you to the lantern room’s ladder. Climbing proved to be a taxing affair, every ascending rung spelling an exertive exhale. You were nearly halfway when a morbid creak sounded from beneath you. Not close enough to be the ladder, that you determined for certain after shaking around.
Could it have been the door? Surely not…
Regardless, it did not concern you. Whatever lurked inside the supposed keeper’s home could stay there. You were going to investigate the lantern room. Find any notes, any available food or water, possibly a map.
Or, you were going to stubbornly and regretfully give in to your own curiosity and investigate the door.
Exertive exhales transformed into near-chuckles of disbelief, every hair in your body standing on end as you went down every step.
Why? Why were you so compelled by death?
Perhaps this job was quite right for you after all.
The lavish door was already open by the time you reached it. Your gaze immediately transfixed by the flame-wrapped lamp, burning shades of indigo like rich moonlight in the night. Each lick danced delicately, enchanting in its unpredictability. Color conquered every inch of your eyes. The object was unusual in its pull – invisible tethers keep you rooted right in place. The shades merged, floating and mixing around each other into hands that wrapped over your wrist in an instant.
The surrounding night turned to plain void. Your fingertips turned translucent as the clearing fog around you. Like creeping vines, the mist ate away at your flesh. It was painless yet frighteningly cold. A single blink and your entire body was gone.
So you had thought.
Instead, the mist returned your flesh. It fluttered about through the void, slowly unveiling a striking scene. Golden eyes bore through you, the face attached struck by shadow. The figure rests in elegant leisure, their dark cloak brushing the wooden floor. Not a word is uttered into their silent abode, filled with books and all manner of curios. Moonlight highlighted every gem and metal, breaking the pure rays into paint on the walls.
“You have finally arrived.”
Their voice was dangerously soothing to your fraying mind.
“I’m sure you are feeling frazzled after such a jarring experience. Please, come sit.”
There was little else to do but listen. Your body rattled with exhaustion, likely covered in grime and blood after the chaos of the day.
The ceiling of the study boasted grand paintings. Snezhnayan legends and Ratniki myths lay in silver-laced monochrome, surprisingly detailed despite their lack of vibrancy. The mural was visceral, not in gore, but in emotion. In drive and passion. In steadfast dedication. Each piece was divided by a beam, curling towards one domed center. As the art’s mystique trailed off recognition took its place.
“Are we… inside that flaming lantern?”
“An astute observation, dear guest.”
“How?” you laughed.
“Forgive me if this is too bold or callous. Do you recall the moment you touched this land?” he paused for your acknowledgement, “The minute you reached the sand, you changed. Only those as ephemeral as myself may enter this space…. you do realize what I’m saying, yes?”
Maroon Basin… Final Night…
Maroon Basin… Final Night…
Did I…?
Am I…?
There was no denying the truth within his ichor-laden eyes.
The spirits on the shores – you were kin now.
You were something beyond the coil.
“Would you care to stay for a while? You need not make decisions in haste.”
A gloved hand manifest before you, thousands of tales and ventures within.
“Why not?”