Behind the lighthouse was something of a hidden treasure that only a handful of people really ever got to see; it was a small room (complete with a balcony of sorts) built into the cliff-side, and accessible only by an easily missed detachment of stairs a ways from the lighthouse, itself. Roland and Henri would know this as the place that their fathers often went to discuss things privately, though, whether or not they built it or commissioned it, themselves, Roland could not say. Regardless, with Henri’s father’s passing, it had become a comfortable place to just hang out, drink, and not have to deal with any unwanted visitors; it offered seating, a table to put drinks or food on, and, most importantly for today, privacy.
They would need that today.
Roland sat in one of two worn, wooden rocking chairs and was waiting for Henri to return with some supplies. The voice in Henri’s head, Aurelius, he was called, had apparently given Henri a list of things he needed to gather and bring back to their little base. Roland had been waiting patiently for fifteen minutes now and he was starting to get bored. How long did it take to find a matchbox, a couple of candles, a cup of water, and sand? This was ridiculous!
This all felt like a joke to Roland and he wasn’t laughing. Sure, Henri was crazy in a way, but he wasn’t psychopathic and, really, Roland couldn’t believe in this Aurelius thing . . . Today was supposed to be proof, proof that Henri could do, well, things, and Roland could finally have faith in him again but it all just seemed so - so unreal: Aurelius, the fire yesterday, the loud boom from the ocean, the broken door of the lighthouse, and the temperature dropping so fast that it could have killed someone from exposure in an instant. What the hell was even going on anymore?
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FATAL KERNEL ERROR_ Mind link to COMP disconnected_
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