First Steps into the Sacredness

Scratching stone is a marvelous sound. It invokes wonder and mystery in even the most plain of people, and never more so than when its coming from an enormous stone gate slowly revealing its treasures. This particular stone gate was opening a path into an abandoned, ancient temple for a small spirit with a great deal of curiosity, causing a tremor to shake the walls of the underground cavern it was in. One could only hear it opening, for the cavern had no natural light sources, and would have been completely black had it not been for the soft light of the aforementioned curious spirit entering through the immense doors. He ran his paws over the blank marble tile lining the hallway, feeling its cold surface as the first being in eons to do so. Every one of his senses was sharpened and attentive, his eyes vaulting in every direction as he watched for dangerous traps or creatures lurking in the darkness, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to finally overwhelm the little spirit right has he had finally triumphed. His long, fine ears pricked up to listen for any signs of distress as he squinted to see through the darkness, making various pauses and changes in his gait to avoid masking the sounds of approaching beasts. All that, and yet it seemed as though there was nothing sneaking about. He couldn't hear anything other than his own hollow steps and his nervous, shallow breaths as his chest rose up and down.

Before him lay a long corridor with indecipherable drawings adorning every corner. The hallway yawned deeply into the complex, with its ceiling stretching almost ten times higher than Ori himself. To his surprise, golden light fell down from cracks high in the roof and lit the walls and floor more than strongly enough to see. He strolled through the passageway whilst taking a curious interest in the odd drawings, but no amount of squinting allowed him to make heads or tails of what they represented. Some of the pictures seemed to have sections designed to be pressed, but even as he ran over them with his paw, there were no revelations to be made. Slowly, his interest in the artwork drifted away until he ultimately lost it entirely, completely focused on the pathway forward. Not long after that, he found himself in a central lobby filled with magnificent enameled staircases leading upwards to all sorts of separate rooms. Unfortunately, they had long since fallen into ruin, most likely having been destroyed by whatever event had wrecked this once peaceful place. Plants, able to survive in even the most desolate conditions, twirled above and entwined around the broken masonry, seemingly trying to take back what had once belonged to them. Ori felt his jaw slowly fall as his eyes drove over the incredible scene, it was the most impressive thing he had ever seen. His eyes eventually came to rest on the second level above the stairs, deciding that was the most likely direction to find an exit, or at least something interesting, he wasn't really sure what he was searching for. The staircases were out of the question, though. "Maybe I can climb these rough walls," he mouthed to himself silently, not wanting to break the reverent silence of the temple. Indeed, the walls were mottled with enough holes and pecks that his hooves wouldn't slip off like they did on the smoother stone from earlier. It was worth a try, at the very least. He threw himself at the wall with a bound, shoving his paws into it with force. While he was able to cling for a short time, he just didn't have the claws to climb higher and got stuck. Shortly thereafter, he lost his balance and gravity mercilessly yanked him down again, his paws grating the whole way down.

"Foolish." he thought. "This was a stupid thought. There's no way I was ever going to be able to climb this," he chastised. He could scale trees easily, but blank walls like this were never even remotely possible. He was just about to kick himself further over it when noises rang out from one of the shadowy corners on the first level, spiking his senses into overdrive again. The sounds resembled a band of skittering insects, and they were getting louder. With a single motion, Ori summoned his blade and directed its peak towards the origin of the sounds. There wasn't any room left for incompetence today, and his ears spun around like a radar dish, scanning the airwaves for details on the incoming threat. Vision wasn't left behind, and his eyes narrowed into a far-sighted squint, becoming clearer with every step he heard. Making out silhouettes in the darkness was difficult, but there were certainly many of them.

"Show your faces!" Ori shouted confidently. Nothing changed about the silhouettes' movement, but they did finally reach the light shining through the central room. Bugs. Only about half as tall as himself, but their sharp fangs and razor-thin legs more than compensating for their small size. They scuttled towards him fearlessly, as if his light were a magnet to them.

Ori watched every move carefully, prepared for an attack that could come at any second. He was right to do so, as not long after he had assumed his stance did one of the creatures jump backwards and zoom forwards to race its claws through the air, the strike barely missing Ori's skin by hair lengths. He didn't even have time to react to the next attempt, one of the other bugs had done exactly the same thing from the side. Claws raked through his left arm and elicited a short cry of pain, but he couldn't focus on that for too long. Another bug leaped at him from the right, but his sword was already there. It cast a spiritual blue trail through the air behind it as it cored the bug right down the middle with a hiss, killing it instantly. There was only one direction left he hadn't been attacked from, and he jumped through the air with a flip to distance himself from his group of attackers. Now he could see how many of them there were. Three bloodthirsty bugs slowly crawled towards him, their fourth member lying in pieces behind them. He swung his sword in circles, loosening his arm for combat with a distraction technique to confuse the beasts. It was to no avail, the bugs didn't show any signs of confusion or even mild distraction. Perhaps they were too smart to confuse, or, more likely, too dumb to comprehend more than one thing at a time. Their actions were probably driven by either by an unquenchable blood-lust or basal instinctual drives.

When they got too close for his liking, he unleashed his assault. His blade tore through the air, splitting it apart in a lightning-fast path right through his opponents. One hit. Two hits? No, not even a single one of the swings had connected, the closest it getting being light taps on the edges of the bugs' fangs. All of them had jumped backwards immediately at the first sign of movement, as if it were programmed into them. Much like before, they shot forward with vengeance, and an unprepared Ori met with furious, burning shocks of pain as every claw hit its intended target. His belly, his chest, his left arm again, all covered in new lacerations that spilled fresh, brightly-glowing spirit blood to the stony floor. When it was separated from its host, its light faded and it swiftly turned a dark red color, lifeless and dead. The poor little spirit whined in pain and clutched at his new wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. The injuries weren't much on the surface, but they hurt with a blazing fury.

The bugs weren't kind enough to give him pause. They weren't dazzled by the radiant blood at all, even though a few drops of the stuff had landed right on their faces. Without waiting for any movement from Ori, they leapt backward again. The little spirit knew what was coming next, and also knew he needed to prevent any extra pain at all costs. They gave him only one second to react in their speedy attack, but Ori was fast too. He demonstrated his skill by deftly rolling to the side and letting all the bugs' attacks crash through nothing but air. Since his previous stance hadn't worked, he changed to a new one and held his blade as lowly as his arms could hang. It was a completely relaxed pose, though no pose he could hold would relieve the horrible pain from earlier. Then, he contracted all his muscles at once, as if a pile of sand had hardened into stone. He didn't dare turn away from his opponents, he wasn't sure if he would withstand another hit. The last thing he wanted was to get hurt even more than he already was, and his heart began to race as the bugs determined their next move. His body did the opposite, standing still as a statue and prepared for anything that they might try.

Time slowed to a crawl as he held himself still. Finally, the bugs got over their confusion and turned to him in a near-simultaneous movement. They then moved closer to the tensed-up spirit holding his blade tightly in his paws. Ori didn't think about attacking them, that had only went poorly before. Instead, he decided to observe every one of their motions, looking for a flaw in their strategy. They came closer and closer and… There! The bugs jumped back, regardless of whatever Ori was doing. Shortly afterwards, they flew forward with the same tremendous speed as before, but now the little spirit was prepared. He waited until one of them was just about to reach him before swinging his blade, letting it rip through the air and guts of the monster in an almost unnatural fashion. A clean cut drew right through the center of its belly, dropping it to the ground silently. With only two left, he positioned himself right between them, so that they would lunge at him from both the right and left sides. Just as their preparations finished, he spun around his own axis with his arm outstretched and his blade hissing through the air, yelling a high-pitched warrior cry and slicing the bugs to pieces.

Silence. While standing still and masterfully observing the battlefield without moving a muscle, he took many deep breaths, trying to find his own center. Again, the edge of his right paw was laid on his undulating chest.

As the colossal flood of adrenaline slowly petered out and his body calmed down, he was able to sense his own nerves again. His paws immediately flew to his wounds. The shiny bleeding stopped, but nothing he did relieved the terrible aching feeling coming from the deep scratches. Glowing tears escaped his big eyes and rolled down his cheeks as he tried several times to wish away the pain. High-pitched whines came freely from his little larynx for a short while before sobbing hiccups overwhelmed him like an ocean wave. He moved his right arm to his face to carefully wipe the tears constantly flowing from his eyes away, being very careful to not stretch any of his cuts. His whole body shivered in pain and exhaustion.

And there he would have remained, had a small hole not caught his attention. The bugs had revealed a tiny gap when they had broken free from the walls, and it seemed to lead somewhere.

A cold wind brushed his sensitive skin as he entered the new passageway. The darkened void before him quietly howled with both the cavern's winds and the distant crashes of falling stones, striking the ground with enough force to shake his fine ears. It was like a step into an entirely different place. One look at the broken ceiling above him, and he knew it had been a one-way trip. Only a few rays of the shiny golden light managed to make their way into the cave, but they eventually were dispersed into the tiniest particles in the darkness, illuminating nothing. Again, he was left with naught but his own light to rely on in the accursed darkness. He whipped out his sword, prepared for any extra surprises hiding behind the rocks surrounding him. Every step he took was light as a feather and cautious as those of a quarry. Yet the cave still seemed quite empty and dead. The ceiling above him rose ever higher with every breath he took, stretching to new heights that opened the room even further. Out of nowhere, a drop of water fell on the tip of his nose and he looked up with a start. His large, still glassy eyes reflected the blue light from another flower, the same type he'd seen in the spider den from earlier. Only a few inches away from the flower was another hole leading back into the temple, as evidenced by the golden light strewing through the entrance. From there, it wasn't hard to realize what he needed to do next. The strong rope flashed out from his paws again, firing off to his new target. The forceful pull set off a familiar tingle in his belly, and he timed the jump off the string just right, allowing him to grab on to the ledge with his paws perfectly. A quick push, and his legs gracefully followed over the edge in a singular limber movement. Such skill usually would please him, but the only applause he would get today was the bolts of pain shooting through his fresh wounds. It was enough to force him to narrow his eyes again and another weepy moan escaped his little mouth. The scratches still felt like they were on fire, and he hated to be so powerless about it. The feeling of being incapable of helping himself was almost worse than the pain itself, but he had no other choice but to endure his suffering.

Again, he stood in the great concourse where he had fought the wicked bugs, but this time he was on the second floor. The balcony looked even bigger now that he was standing on it, as he was able to look over the magnificence of the entire room from its height. A massive gallery of various pictures orbited the entire path, depicting all sorts of scenes in their untranslatable languages. The ceiling was even better, incredible paintings all coming together to a helix in the center. Even in the dilapidated state the temple was in, Ori could perfectly imagine how it had looked before. "This must've been a really majestic place," he whispered to himself humbly, taking in the masterful gracefulness of the architecture in a way he hadn't been able to from the ground. "Simply stunning… I wouldn't know where to start on imagining such pieces…" One piece of art in particular caught his eye, and he stopped to carefully brush off the sand and dust obscuring the masterpiece. "How did they"—he paused to brush off a hardier chunk of dirt— "ever even get it on the walls without paint? Wait, there's more…" He wiped off an even larger surface, having to blow to reach the very top. The remaining tears in his eyes fell out as his eyes widened. "This looks like—" His monologue was interrupted as some of the particles of dust fell into his nose, causing him to sneeze and follow up with a mild coughing attack. One sniff and a couple rubs over his face with his right arm later, he dedicated himself back to the picture again. "This looks like," he started again, "like father. Somebody drew father."