Chapter 2: lighthouse, tall and grand

(The stranger's story continues. A team is assigned. A lighthouse is explored.)

Elsewhere – and I want to make it perfectly clear that this is, in every sense of the word, as 'elsewhere' as it is possible to get, this is a place several steps removed from what you would consider 'reality' – there are a group of beings, walking along the memory of a beach.

These beings have been known by many names since humanity became aware, in bits and fragments, of their existence. Angels, transients, seraphim, protectors, the fae, the faerie, and elementals – every one of these is simultaneously absolutely correct and completely wrong.

The opinions of the beings themselves on what they ought to be called are many and varied. Quite a lot of them believe that they are above labels altogether, and plastering a name onto their species would be undignified and demeaning. Those tend to be the older ones, though, the ones that were formed so long ago that they (with their perfect eidetic memories) can barely remember that far back. The general consensus, though – and the one I favour myself – is the title of 'element'. Although only some of us are what humans would consider truly elements, it makes a good overarching title for us, and the word itself is rather elegant too.

An outsider looking in would not understand the layout of our organization, and if they were human, they might question the logic of it. Why, they might ask in a suitably exasperated tone, why would you take members of the periodic table – good, solid reliable elements, such as Silver, Magnesium and Cerium! – and place them as if they were on the same level as non-elements! 'Steel' is not an element! (they might continue, growing more and more outraged) – and neither is Jet, or Diamond, no matter how pretty they may look – and we are going to cut off our hypothetical observer's lengthy monologue right here, for the sake of our collective sanity. It's over now; and thank goodness for that.

Elements have been around for far longer than humans ever have, and as such they don't need to fit into any charts or tables that humans have made up. Mendeleev was a very smart man, but he didn't manage to capture all of us, and the ancient Greeks were more correct than they knew in some respects. Our forms and names aren't limited to chemicals and metals and gemstones and the like – there are many more of us than you, or our hypothetical observer, would ever be able to imagine.

Let me think for a second… oh, yes. I haven't seen them around lately, but I can assure you that Rhythm and Pitch and Melody are all members of our ranks. They're Elements of Music, you see? They don't often take humanoid form, and they're rarely around at all, but I can assure you that Pitch appears with the most gorgeous braided hair, and a singing voice that's absolutely divine.

And then there's the older ones – the ones that I mentioned before, a bit outdated in their thinking, but more than worth listening to. Again, they're rarely seen, and they rarely get assigned either, but they are awe-inspiringly powerful. The one time I met one – Fire – they scorched my skin and warmed my soul and filled me with flames and took my breath away, and it was wonderful.

But – oh, I'm off on a tangent again, aren't I? I do apologize.

As I was saying, there are four elements, and they are walking along a memory of a beach. This is a place outside of time and space, somewhere that exists between dream and reality, between mind and matter, and it only looks like a beach because they desire it to be.

And it's quite a nice beach, too – waves lapping slowly against a pebbled shore, and traces of rocky piers off in the distance. There are no birds in the grey sky above. The four elements are making tracks along the beach as we watch, and they are not speaking to each other as they do so. It's a comfortable, companionable silence, one that comes from spending so much time together that there's simply no need for them to speak aloud.

The one furthest ahead – ambling at an easy pace with his hands in his pockets, toeing at the pebbles and shells with his shiny boots – well, that's Silver. He sparkles so well, doesn't he? – if not just in appearance, but in personality as well. I can practically guarantee that you'll never meet anybody that shines as much as Silver does.

Behind, there are a woman and a man, walking almost entirely in synchronization with each other. They are smiling – the woman rather more so than the man – and the woman is carrying an excellent approximation of an old-fashioned parasol. Her name is… well. I suppose you already know her, don't you? There's no need to introduce a girl again, after all. Her partner (and no, not in that sense, that's a human connotation there) is short and sour-looking and rather grim too, but oh, but he really does have a kind heart, underneath it all. He is Steel, in all senses of the word. Steel by name, steely by nature.

And bringing up the back of this silent, companionable procession at the back is easily the tallest of all of them. Lead, a giant of a man who looks like he could easily crush your skull in one hand with no trouble at all. But he has the widest smile and the loveliest laugh and a singing voice that's just so enthusiastic that you can't help but join in with him. And he would never hurt anybody that didn't deserve it.

The four of them are between assignments at the moment, as they have been for a while now. I will tell you now, it's somewhat unusual for there not to be any problems calling for their attention for this long. Usually there should have been at least one minor misdemeanour demanding their presence by this point, but there has been a stifling lack of those lately. None of them would ever admit it – aloud or to each other – but things have been beginning to get rather boring of late.

And then, just like that, an assignment comes through. It comes from somewhere and something higher up, further removed from their level of being, and it immediately demands all of their attention.

The information is communicated directly to them in a way that humans would find difficult to understand or process, and it comes all at once.

Silver stops picking through the recollections of shells on the seaside, and turns to face his companions, and Lead simply stops where he is, frowning as he goes through the assignment in his head. Sapphire closes her eyes to do the same – always having worked better with her eyes closed, and while Steel makes no outward sign of checking the information, he too is processing it.

There is no real way to exactly reproduce the knowledge that they have received in a way that you could properly interpret, so I am going to tweak this scene ever so slightly, and change things so that you may understand what has just transpired.

"We have received an assignment," announces Sapphire less than a minute ago, in this slightly altered version of reality, and her three companions turn to look at her.

(In this scene that I am creating for you now, Sapphire is the only one that has received the aforementioned knowledge, and in turn will need to communicate it to the others. Rather heavy- handed, maybe, but I feel as if this is a mode of storytelling that will fit our uses.)

"We have received an assignment," says Sapphire – she is not saying it again, I am just repeating it for your benefit, to maintain continuity – "and by 'we', I mean all of us."

"Why?" Steel asks, frowning – little lines of displeasure cracking out all across his face. "We've never needed backup before."

"That could be argued," Silver says; Lead makes a little rumbling noise of amusement/agreement, and Sapphire lets herself smile briefly, before her attention turns inwards again, and that fades to one of slight puzzlement.

"Tell me," she says, rather suddenly, "have you seen Ruby lately?"

"Ruby? No," says Silver. "I assumed she was on one of her, oh, you know – her long-term assignments."

"I tend to avoid her," Steel says with an undecipherable jerk of his head. "You know how she gets. No, I haven't seen her either."

Lead seems to consider this for a long moment. "That does seem a bit odd, now that you mention it. Sapphire, has something happened?"

"According to this-" and Sapphire taps the side of her head twice "– Ruby never returned from her last assignment. And she's not the only one. Has anybody heard from Cerium?"

Nobody has.

Sapphire nods, looking grim. "It seems as if quite a few of our number were assigned to this particular place, and they never came back. All contact has been lost with them."

"And so Their solution is to just send more of us?" Steel looks more than slightly annoyed. "Just how many of us 'never came back'?"

Sapphire lists them out aloud, and there are many: Magnesium, Charm (a newer addition), Titanium, Copper (Silver looks noticeably devastated when he realizes this is the case, they were always rather close), Sandstone, Bismuth (and here Lead's mouth tightens almost imperceptibly; he and Bismuth were the closest you could get to siblings), Jet, Agate, and at the very beginning of the list there is Jade, who was the first to go missing, nearly a week ago – relative time. By now you should have worked out what's going on, since I've been so relatively transparent in my recounting. But in case you haven't –

"Jade's assignment was a low-risk one, in a lighthouse somewhere east of New Zealand," Sapphire says. "It was unspecified what sort of irregularity it was. After losing roughly," she pauses for a moment, apparently thinking, "ten Operators to this unknown force, the risk has increased to a high enough level that more than one of us should be assigned. Hence, the four of us."

And this is all they need to know, because it is at that moment that their assignment is due to begin, and without any indication of it having begun to happen, the four of them are gone.

From a linear perspective, the trip from the remembered beach to the lighthouse's island is almost instantaneous. They are there, and then they are somewhere else – as simple as that. From a non-linear perspective thing are (as they always tend to be) quite a lot more complicated than that.

This is how they arrive – with barely a stumble, fading into existence on the path leading up to the lighthouse. They are poised, already looking at the top of it before they have a chance to see anything else, and Sapphire nods. "This is the place," she says, and Steel moves to the front of the group to lead everybody down the path to the door.

It is daylight now, and many weeks have passed since we last saw this lighthouse, but it has not changed in appearance at all. It is still nameless and unremarkable, and the sound of Steel rapping briskly on the large wooden door echoes around the inside of the lighthouse before fading away.

"It doesn't look as if anybody's home," says Silver after a minute of waiting. "Ah, perhaps we should-?"

Lead grins and reaches out to push at the door. The wood cracks and crumples, even though to the casual observer, it would appear that he's only using the barest of effort. Within seconds, the door is swinging open, although the lock is more than slightly ruined.

"Thank you, Lead," says Silver graciously.

Steel unceremoniously wrenches the door the rest of the way open, and steps into the bottom floor of the lighthouse. He stops at the foot of the stairs, turning to look all the way around. "Sapphire. Spot check."

Sapphire hums lightly, her eyes flickering blue for a second, and then – "nothing especially unusual here. This lighthouse doesn't seem to have much history at all."

"It's safe to continue?"

"As safe as any of our assignments are."

And while that conversation is happening, Silver's moved to examine the pile of shattered lanterns and shattered wine bottles, and he's digging through them, eyes narrowed. After a second, he shoves all the glass to the side and scoops up the item that had been rather purposefully buried beneath it all.

"Well, this is definitely the place," he announces grimly to the world at large, and holds up a dark green pea-coat, stained slightly from old wine that had been dripping from the abandoned bottles. "I recognize this – it's Jade's."

"Up," says Sapphire suddenly, looking to the stairs. "I can feel something; it's tugging at me Whatever it is, it's at the top of this lighthouse."

And so Silver folds the jacket carefully and places it back on the ground, and they ascend the stairs, moving upwards, but even as the four of them reach the engineer's bedroom, Sapphire lets out a tiny, uncharacteristic noise of frustration. "It's gone."

"What does that mean?" Lead asks.

"It could mean anything. It could have hidden itself, or left the area, or…" Sapphire looks around the room, the bare, impersonal room, and shakes her head. "Well, either way, it looks like nobody's home."

"Shouldn't there be a lighthouse keeper on duty at all times?" Silver asks, examining the military-style that the twin beds have been made up in. "It seems irresponsible to just leave it like this."

Lead laughs; sits down on one of the beds. It creaks beneath him. "It might not have been their choice!"

"These marks on the ground," Steel interrupts, frowning at the chalky residue that had been left in the vague forms of footprints. "Sandstone was up here at some point."

Sapphire comes over to examine them, and brushes a finger along the marks. "So she was. Well, that means we're in the right place, at least."

"Aha!" exclaims Silver, and abandons his search of the mostly-empty wardrobe, practically leaping across the room to the table with the bright red phone on it. "What's this?"

"It's a phone, Silver," says Sapphire indulgently.

"Well yes, I do know that." Silver frowns at her briefly, and then picks up the receiver, placing it to his ear. "Hm, no dial tone." He plays with the rotary dial absently for a second or two, and then abandons the task. "The line's dead, for whatever reason. Maybe the power-?" He finds the power cord that's trailing off the edge of the table, and follows it all the way down to the floor, and to where it disappears into the shadows. "Ah, now that's strange."

Sapphire sinks down to the ground, sliding herself neatly underneath the table to join him. She has to duck her head down slightly in order to fit in. "What is?"

Silver pulls a lightbulb out of nowhere, and taps it once, causing it to flare with golden light in his hands. He passes it to Sapphire, indicating for her to hold it out for him, and then starts examining the skirting board and wall closely. "Take a look at the phone cord."

Sapphire finds it, and tugs, pulling it into her free hand. The metal prongs of the part that would normally plug into a wall socket are cold against her skin. "It's not plugged in."

Silver finishes his examination of the wall. "Yes, and there's no place for it to be plugged in, either."

"Is this really relevant?" Steel asks testily. "So whoever lives here has a phone that they never bothered to use. How does that affect us?"

"It probably doesn't." Silver takes back his lightbulb from Sapphire, and the two of them emerge from beneath the table. "It just strikes me as rather odd, that's all."

Sapphire rests her hand lightly on top of the phone, and appears to concentrate hard for a moment, her eyes going bright blue. "There's nothing at all inside this phone," she reports.

"Good to know," Silver says, and then glances around the room. "I say, where has Lead gone off to?"

In response to this, there's a faint shout from above them – not panicked or any such thing, just an indication of existence – and the three of them make their way to the stairs, going upwards. The stairs end at the top of the lighthouse, the part where the actual light resides. Lead is leaning on the balcony surrounding the light, and it's creaking rather alarmingly too. He turns at their entrance; grins; laughs.

Silver discards his comparatively smaller lightbulb into thin air, like a child forgetting an old toy in favour of a newer, shinier one, and stares in open delight at the open mirrored dome in front of him. "Now this is more like it!"

"This isn't the time, Silver," says Steel, but Silver has already pried open the control box somehow, and is fiddling about inside it.

"On the contrary," he says with a dazzling grin, looking up from it, even as his hands keep moving. "I think it's perfectly necessary to figure out all the secrets of this place –" and then he looks down and frowns. "Oh, how disappointing."

Steel doesn't humor him by asking the obvious question.

"This light hasn't been lit for years," Silver says, even though nobody's asked. He gives it a pointed thump. "At least three, by my guess. Everything's rusted through. I could restart it, I suppose, but –what would be the point?"

"Not a very effective lighthouse, in that case," says Sapphire. "How strange."

Silver abandons the mechanism within seconds. "There's nothing to see here, I suspect."

"It would be counterproductive for us to spend too much time searching areas that might not have any relevance," Sapphire says, adjusting her hair slightly so it isn't caught in a non-existent breeze. "We have an entire island to cover, after all."

Silver nods. "I believe that the best thing for us to do at this point would be to – how do humans put it, again? – 'split the party'."

"Lead and I can circle the outer limits of the island," says Sapphire with the slightest of blueish tints lighting up her eyes. "I can feel something odd about it; something related to the perimeter. I can't quite pinpoint it right now, but it's a lead that we should follow up on. And Steel, you and Silver can go down to the town."

"The town?" Silver closes up the access panel with a sharp little snap, and turns to look outwards. From the top of the lighthouse, they have an excellent view of all of their surroundings, and a small settling can be clearly seen, although it would be flattering to even call it that. 'Town' is rather a stretch.

[Sapphire, is this really necessary?] Steel isn't whining – he would never do anything as mundane as whine, but the cadence and inflection of his silent words are edging into that territory.

Sapphire quirks a smile in his direction. [Not exactly. But it's rather fun to mix things up a bit, wouldn't you say?]

Steel's response to this – a mental grumble, and then a sort of dull, tired acceptance radiating from him. [I'd really rather not.]

Which, of course, means yes.