This Interlude drifts between awe and humor. Proof that even in the presence of holy beasts and impossible wonders, human nature does not change. Laughter, fear, loyalty, and hunger still shape us as much as miracles do.
As we move closer to the Sepulcher itself, these glimpses remind us that the journey is more than survival. It is about the bonds being forged in the fire.
─── ❖ ────── ❖ ────── ❖ ───
Andrea stirred first, blinking against the pale light, her hand instinctively resting on her belly. Bianca groaned beside her, muttering something about hunger before either woman noticed the shift outside.
They stepped out of the tent together, only to stop dead.
The jellyfish loomed above the plain, its translucent bell shimmering with golden glyphs, its tentacles trailing like celestial banners. It dwarfed even the mammoths.
Andrea clutched Bianca's arm, Bianca clutched back, and without tearing their eyes away from the leviathan, they began to shuffle sideways across the snow until they pressed themselves against my side.
I couldn't help it. I laughed. "You look like two children caught sneaking biscuits from the jar."
Neither dignified me with a reply. Their grip only tightened.
Anthony arrived, arms full of bread and dried meat. He set it down with deliberate calm, as though bringing lunch to a picnic instead of to a field of holy beasts. The women snatched at the food, tearing into it without once breaking their stare at the jellyfish. Crumbs scattered across their cloaks.
I shook my head. "At least pretend you trust me to keep notes if it eats us."
Bianca jabbed a finger at me, still chewing. "If it as so much as twitches, Christopher, you are going first."
Andrea tried to smother a laugh, only to choke on her bread.
Before us, the wolves padded in slow arcs, their silver coats rippling as if stitched from moonlight. One by one, they lowered their heads, muzzles brushing the snow, their eyes fixed not on us but on the women.
The horses stamped and pawed at the frozen earth, long manes sweeping forward to touch the ground. Each breath poured out in streaming clouds of silver and gold, veiling the Pale Expanse in drifting light that shimmered across the frost like dust shaken from heaven's hand.
Above, the jellyfish swelled and dimmed, its bell pulsing in steady rhythm, each flare a silent greeting.
Bianca and Andrea froze mid-bite. Their gazes darted from the wolves to the horses, then up to the vast creature hanging in the air.
The bread slipped from Andrea's hand. Her whisper was thin as a thread. "What... what did we miss?"
Miles leaned forward eagerly, already winding up. "Oh, nothing much. I only almost died being flattened by a mammoth while Chris here screamed like a madman."
"I did not scream," I interrupted, though Anthony's grin betrayed me.
Miles ignored me, puffing up. "And then this divine jellyfish, yes, that one you are gawking at, swiped me out of death's mouth like I was a loose coin in the street. I tell you, I saw my life flash so fast I nearly applauded when it ended."
Bianca's lips twitched despite herself. "So dramatic."
"Dramatic?" Miles clutched his chest. "My bones still rattle. You weren't under a mammoth's shadow."
The women laughed then, full and rich, breaking the tension that had wound tight in the air. Andrea brushed her hair back, eyes still locked on the glowing colossus. "And through all that, you stayed?"
Miles fell silent. His expression softened, and though he tried to cover it with a shrug, his voice gave him away. "Where else would we go?"
Anthony nodded, his gaze steady. "We have come this far together. If we are to be trampled, then so be it. But not one of us alone."
No one answered. We did not need to. The truth hung between us, stronger than any vow.
For a time, we sat there, sharing bread, watching holy beasts linger in the mist, the jellyfish standing vigil like a lighthouse of Heaven itself. And in that stillness, I think we all understood: whatever storms awaited us in the Sepulcher, we had already been tempered by fire.
─── ❖ ────── ❖ ────── ❖ ───
Thank you for reading this latest entry in Christopher's journal.
We are drawing ever nearer to the heart of the Sepulcher of Echoes. Only a handful of interludes remain before the transition into Arc 2, where Max and Seth's story will continue to unfold.
Every view, comment, and quiet moment you spend here keeps this journey alive. I am deeply grateful. Stay with me. The best is yet to come.