The silence seemed to pulse.
Distorted whispers brushing the edges of his mind.
A sense of dread grew ever larger as a basement door flew open, causing everything to go black.
Chapter 11: Together
Asher woke to the faint sound of clicking gears. Blinking groggily, he saw Kaspar hunched over the table, illuminated by the dawn outside. The soft light illuminated Kaspar's focused expression as he tinkered with a collection of small mechanical parts.
The mechanical rabbit from the previous night sat upright on the desk, restored but now sporting a comical limp as it tried—and failed—to hop smoothly.
Kaspar noticed Asher stirring and turned with an eager grin. Before Asher could get a word in, Kaspar held up the same rainbow feather, mumbling something in his native tongue. Asher squinted, confused, until the words shifted into a clear understandable form.
"This... make speak the same," Kaspar said proudly, tapping the feather before tucking it behind his ear.
"Okay," Asher muttered, sitting up. "What are you even doing?"
Kaspar launched into an animated explanation, waving his hands at the desk cluttered with strange devices. "Fix machines. Church work! Gears. Springs. Pipes."
"You're trying to say you're fixing all the machines around here by yourself?"
"Yeah!" Kaspar exclaimed with glee, practically bouncing on his feet.
Before Asher could respond, Kaspar grabbed a tool case and shoved it into Asher's arms. "Come! I show!"
"Wait, what?" Asher protested, but Kaspar had already dragged him toward the door.
The church turned out to be larger than Asher expected, a labyrinth of dimly lit halls and creaky staircases. Kaspar led the way, pointing out various spots with rapid-fire explanations that the feather struggled to keep up with.
"These dorms," Kaspar said, gesturing to a long hallway. Most of the doors were shut and covered in dust, save for two near the end. "Only one used now. Quiet. Lonely."
Next, they entered the main church area. The vaulted ceiling arched high above rows of worn wooden pews, bathed in multicolored light from stained glass windows. At the front, Otto stood addressing a small group of listeners, his tone calm but charged with energy. Kaspar paused briefly, waving at Otto, who nodded in acknowledgment without breaking his flow.
"Biggest machine here," Kaspar whispered, pointing to the assorted pulsating machinery lining the walls "Pipes, gears connect... everywhere."
They moved on, passing by Otto's quarters—a spartan room with a neatly made bed and a desk piled with ledgers—and into the library. The space was modest but packed with books that seemed impossibly well-organized compared to the rest of the church.
"Library," Kaspar said, picking his nose. "Mostly boring. Too many not machinery."
Asher smirked but held his tongue.
Finally, they reached the kitchen. It was a disaster zone. Pots and pans were stacked haphazardly, ingredients spilled across the counters, and the smell of burnt breakfast lingered in the air.
"Kitchen! Best place." Kaspar grinned proudly, kicking a stray wrench under a cabinet as if that would help the chaos.
Through it all, Kaspar kept up a running commentary on the machinery, pointing out levers, gears, and valves hidden in walls and corners. His explanations were vague at best, often derailed by enthusiastic tangents about unrelated gadgets.
By the time they returned to the dorm, Asher's arms ached from carrying the tool case, and his mind swirled with half-formed questions.
One question, however, bubbled to the surface—a question he'd been ruminating on since Otto's cryptic remarks the day before.
"What's even is a Beyonder?" Asher asked, his voice tentative.
Kaspar froze, his wide grin fading into something more subdued. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Asher's gaze. "Beyonder..." he repeated slowly, as if testing the word on his tongue.
After a moment, he rustled his hair trying to think. Before gesturing for Asher to follow him again. They stepped back into the library.
Kaspar motioned for Asher to sit, then pulled a battered notebook from a nearby shelf.
"A Beyonder..." Kaspar began, his tone uncharacteristically serious, "is someone... not normal. Not human. Or... maybe too human? I don't explain well."
He flipped through the notebook, stopping at a page filled with sketches—figures surrounded by strange symbols, their forms shifting and warping.
"We take... magic potion. Change inside," Kaspar continued, pointing at one of the drawings. "Not just body—mind, soul. Become more... or less. Strong, yes, but danger always. Madness close. Lose yourself... become monster."
Asher stared at the sketches, his throat dry. The images were crude but haunting, each one depicting a transformation more grotesque than the last. He thought of Otto's words from the night before—guardians, but also miserable wretches.
"Why?" Asher asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why would anyone do this?"
Kaspar shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Some want power. Some... no choice. Me? I do because..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Because the world need fixing. Machines break, people break. Beyonders must fix. Or try."
Kaspar stood abruptly and rummaged through a drawer in Otto's desk, pulling out a small stack of cards. He placed them on the table: The Wheel of Fortune, The Hermit, and The Paragon.
"These," Kaspar said, tapping the cards. "My idol Emperor Roselle made them. Correspond to paths—ways of being Beyonder. You Wheel. Otto and Me, Paragon. Man who gone? Hermit."
Kaspar got up pacing back and forth, running his hand through his hair as he muttered to himself, clearly frustrated.
"Otto say, nine steps, 9 to 1. But these cards... No card name match! No 'Wheel,' no 'Hermit,' no 'Paragon.' Why? Why these cards?" He waved the cards around, his voice rising with confusion.
"Cards should match, right? But no. No match." Kaspar's eyes narrowed in frustration, staring at the cards as if they would explain themselves. "Roselle... he make these cards. He link to pathways. But no match! What mean?"
Asher watched, trying to make sense of the mess Kaspar was unraveling. "So, it's just a title? Does it need to mean anything?"
"Yeah, title! Symbol!" Kaspar threw his hands up in exasperation. "But wrong! Why call it 'Wheel' When no wheel? Why? No make sense! Title not match path!" He kicked at the ground, his agitation growing.
As Kaspar paced back and forth, muttering to himself in frustration, Asher could feel the tension in the room building.
It was as though the chaotic jumble of thoughts in Kaspar's mind was spilling over into the air, leaving the whole space thick with confusion.
"Kaspar," Asher said softly, standing up from the chair. "Hey, it's okay."
Kaspar froze mid-pace, his eyes snapping up to meet Asher's. His hands clenched at his sides, but Asher could see the tension slowly draining from his shoulders.
"Look," Asher continued, taking a step closer. "I don't get all of this either. The Beyonders, the paths, the cards, it's supernatural nonsense, sure. But freaking out like this isn't going to help anyone."
Kaspar's gaze flickered to the cards on the table, his frown deepening, but he didn't say anything. Asher gave him a moment to collect himself before he added, "We'll figure it out. I'll help you—just... breathe for a second, alright?"
Kaspar let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging as the tightness in his posture began to ease. He nodded slowly, though he still looked somewhat defeated.
"Good," Asher said, feeling a sense of relief as the atmosphere lightened.
As the room settled into a quiet calm, Asher gave Kaspar a moment to regain his composure. He could see the turmoil still bubbling beneath the surface, but for now, at least, Kaspar seemed to be in a slightly better place.
"Kaspar," Asher said, breaking the silence. "I need your help with something."
Kaspar blinked, looking up at Asher with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "Help? What need?"
Asher hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the small book in his hands. "Well, I'm starting to realize that, uh... I don't really understand this place. I don't speak the language—Feysac, right?"
Kaspar nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yes. Feysac language." He frowned slightly, clearly thinking. "Hard to learn. But... you want to try?"
"Yeah. I mean, I don't exactly have a choice," Asher said rubbing his shoulder awkwardly. "If I'm going to be stuck here, I might as well get better at it."
Kaspar chuckled, though it was a lighthearted sound, more in line with his usual exuberance. "You learn fast. You understand quick." He seemed to think for a moment before nodding decisively.
"Okay. I help. But machines might explode. I'll fix… later, you learn!"
Asher and Kaspar continued their small lesson in silence, the only sounds in the room being the scratch of pen on paper and the occasional muttered word of encouragement from Kaspar. It was a slow process, each new word feeling like a small victory, each syllable a step further from confusion and toward some kind of understanding.
For a while, it felt like they were in their own little world—isolated from the complexities that hung over the church like an ominous cloud.
Eventually, Kaspar tapped the table, breaking the quiet. "Enough for now," he said, his voice surprisingly calm. "You rest. Machines... I go check."
"Hey, Kaspar… thanks. For helping me. I really appreciate it."
Kaspar turned, eyes lighting up with that same enthusiastic grin. "No problem! We learn together! We fix world!"
Asher smiled.
"Yeah. Together."
With that, Kaspar gave a final wave and headed out the door, leaving Asher standing in the quiet room, a sense of calm settling in for the first time since his arrival. There was still a long way to go, but at least he wasn't alone in it anymore.