Page 130 of He Who Sleeps

"Hey, Petra," he tapped her on the shoulder and had to hide a smile at the way she almost jumped out of her skin.

“Saints running!” she said as she looked at him, eyes wide, and then giggled, pulling her headphones out. “Hi... I’m sorry I was miles away.” She closed her notebook, and looked him over. “Everything okay?”

"I did knock," he said apologetically. "I had a free few hours, so I was hoping I could take you on a tour of the original compound. It was destroyed but parts of the old temple are still standing, and some of the ruins are quite beautiful."

“Easton, you never need a reason to come to me,” she said softly. “I’m always here for you.” Slipping off the bed, she grinned. “Kildare told me at dinner about the old temple, and there’s some frescoes there? I would love to go with you.”

"There are some beautiful frescoes," he agreed. "When I was younger, I used to practice photography on them, trying to capture the colors and the light." He wished he'd brought one of his cameras with him. It would have been amazing to take some photographs of Petra in the ruins.

She had a beauty about her that would have been stark against that destruction...a goddess amongst the stones. They'd have to come back one day when he was more prepared. Maybe he could do a whole series, some when she was round with child. He could see the artworks now—a maiden, mother, crone series...light in the dark...grayscale maybe, highlighted with silver leaf and sharp slashes of the colors of the frescoes in the background.

Realizing he'd spaced out, he blinked and took her hand. "Sorry, I was getting inspired. We should go. I borrowed a car so we don't have to walk over. It's cold out there."

“Oh...” she nodded. “I’m yours for the foreseeable future.” Squeezing his hand back, she grabbed her sweater. “Let’s go, yeah?”

"Maybe grab a coat, too," he advised. "December out here is not to be trifled with."

She nodded and grabbed the peacoat Carter had brought for her, as well as gloves. “All set.”

"Then let's go." They headed down to one of the garages where Easton opened her car door like a gentleman and then drove them over some rocky terrain toward a massive ruined complex in the distance.

"This is where the women were held," he said, pointing out where some of the buildings were still standing, although they looked in poor condition and would no doubt fall derelict quickly now that they were no longer occupied. They continued on until the ruins became so dense that the car couldn't go any farther and then they got out to walk. A cold wind whistled through the tumbled down walls but he knew they would get warm soon.

"The temple is just up ahead," he reassured her, helping her over a pile of rocks.

“I’m used to the cold,” she said. “Ohio is bitter as hell, but this isn’t so bad. I mean it’s better being with you. This place is amazing. How old is the complex? It’s not normal to find temples and such in the Balkans, right? Most of that was saved for Turkey and Greece.”

"We're not sure," he said. "The original parts of it are probably dated to around the same age as Gobekli Tepe, but it's been expanded and built on so many times over the years that it's hard to know what's still original. And now that we have the technology to date things more accurately, we can't get down into the lower levels where the original stuff is. The ruins are too unstable. The excavation would take years and the Elders would never have authorized it. Which is fair. We don't really want outsiders poking around in our history. It would be nice if we had some archaeologists in The Order, though."

“Never say never,” she offered. “Though it stands to wonder why you don’t. I mean Order is in like, tons of obscure jobs. Something like that would have been beneficial.”

"Would it?" He didn't see it. Proving it was old meant nothing because it would never be open to outsiders. They'd never be able to publish papers about it or invite the scientific world in to study it. The Order had always been and would always be secretive and there was no monetary benefit to studying what was down there. It was simply knowledge for the sake of knowledge.

“If for nothing else than to know your history, your ancestors and such,” she offered. “Given so much has been kept from all of us.”

"We still have all our texts," he reminded her. "Those were rescued after the collapse. I don't know about artifacts, though. It's possible there's other stuff down there. We should ask the priests."

“And maybe figure out if any of The Order are accomplished spelunkers. Sounds like something Kendrix would do for laughs.”

"If we didn't know for sure that there was something worth rescuing, I don't think Finn would allow anybody to go down there," Easton said. "This region is still tectonically active. There are dozens of quakes every year. Imagine if even a small one happened while a team were down there? We'd never get them out. It's best just to leave the secrets where they lie."

He led her into the old temple building which was sheltered from the wind since parts of all four walls were standing, and under the cracked dome. He'd swung by earlier to light a fire and drop off some blankets and cushions, and he'd also rigged up some floodlights to show the frescoes in all their glory.

It was dark in the cavernous space now and she stumbled slightly over some rubble on the tiled floor, but he really wanted to see the moment when he turned all the lights on and she saw the riot of colors exploding from the walls. "Come and sit here," he told her, moving her gently to a pile of cushions. "There's something I want you to see."

Her eyes were wide, taking everything in. “Easton, this is amazing...” she said as she took in what she could see. “And it’s warm...did you set this up? Like a date?” She blushed.

"Maybe?" He gave her a shy smile. The truth was much deeper than that but he wasn't sure how much of it he was supposed to say. Ever since the gift, the God had been speaking to him from time to time, guiding his advice to Finn and encouraging the artistic way Easton viewed the world.

It was the God that had pushed him to come here today. Somehow it felt important to reconnect to their roots, to reaffirm their faith here, in the place where it had been born. They'd rooted out the darkness amidst their core, but it wasn't enough. He Who Sleeps needed a reconsecration. And what better people to do it than His most broken and blessed, and His high priestess? But those kinda of concepts were too huge to speak of and so instead he simply told her to watch as he plugged in the floodlights and the dome flared into glorious light.

“Holy...” She gasped as she looked. “Easton, this is...” she looked to him. “My god...”

"Gorgeous, right?" He looked around at the illuminated works, some of them still shining with gold leaf paint. "I don't know why they didn't replicate this when we moved. The current temple is boring in comparison."

“Because we didn’t have artists,” she said softly. “Elise said that a lot of the work in the original temple was done by the feminine, though there were two done by two of the men that worked with them.” Her eyes were filled with awe as she swept them over the walls and up to the dome, or what was left of it. “Easton, I think you should paint something in the temple...bring back the tradition.”

"I'd have to ask the priests," he said, but already he was wondering if that was where the images he'd seen earlier had come from...if his triptych idea for Petra had maybe been an inspiration from the God himself, asking him to bring creativity and color back into The Order. He didn't think the priests would say no. "I'd paint better with some visual inspiration," he said with a teasing glint. "You know, to see how the light falls on bare skin. Most of these frescoes are of rituals. If I'm going to paint, I'd like to paint our holiest of rituals."

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