Sleeping?
What does sleep even mean to a statue?
"Never mind that. My concerns don't lie with you or your statue friends. I need to get into this building. Can you help me? I… uhh, I don't know what kind of payment you would want, but I'll do whatever I can."
"Entering the building, eh…"
The gargoyle took on a deeply thoughtful expression.
"A payment, huh…"
As the gargoyle pondered, Enza began to feel that something was slightly off.
It wasn't that she had suddenly noticed something suspicious in the gargoyle's words. Rather, as she tried to look for something suspicious, it felt like her own thoughts were slowing down. Every idea she tried to have stretched out across her mind like rubber, into infinity. She was busy crafting her next question, but it seemed to take forever to string even two words together, much less a sentence.
Alarm bells started banging in her head. She reflexively leaped backward, putting physical distance between herself and the stone gargoyle. Her leap was much more awkward than usual. It wasn't that her leg muscles had weakened; it was more like her brain was having trouble sending the proper signals for a coordinated jump, similar to how it feels when a limb falls asleep.
As she crawled farther away, Enza felt her mind gradually clear up. She got to her feet and stared at the gargoyle.
The gargoyle—who had watched all of this—wore a disappointed look. "Don't you want to have a nice, long chat? I know you have lots of questions…"
Enza didn't approach to have this chat; instead, backing away a few more steps.
She definitely hadn't imagined it. The gargoyle had been affecting her mental state.
The mental attack must have begun before it even spoke. It probably activates once you get within a certain range.
As she considered the conversation she had just had, it occurred to her how reckless she had been. Instead of carefully gauging the gargoyle's strength and importance to the game, she had begun to rudely ask it for information.
That's no way to act on the third stratum, and it's unlike me. Maybe if it were Athalia, sure…
Enza tapped her foot.
Now what? Do I attempt to talk to it again from a distance? I'm not sure that's safe. Should I circle the courthouse and try to find another way inside? It's a race against time here, damn it…
A wave of hot anxiety was rising up within her. She hadn't gotten over what she'd just experienced in the confessional, not in the slightest. Having to immediately proceed to the third stratum was already difficult enough; a direct psychological attack was the last thing she needed right now.
Her vision grew blurrier with each erratic pounding of her chest. Corners of pulsating black were closing in…
The next thing she knew was blue.
For what felt like a very long time, it was all she observed.
Eventually, she started imagining details and bumps within the solid color that didn't exist. It's a classic trick of the mind.
But in fact, the details really were there, just not the ones Enza was seeing. She was only forced to imagine them because her eyesight wasn't good enough.
No surface is perfectly smooth, but every surface is perfectly smooth when you're far enough away.
With her new and improved vision, if Athalia looked at this sky, would she be able to make out the fine ridges and details in the paint?
After that, Enza didn't think much for a while. She just lay there, looking up.
The longer she remained still, the more she noticed within herself. She noticed a noise, a tranquility breaker.
Thump
Thump
Thump
A heart, unmistakably. A rhythm of her own.
Tendrils of recognition spread from the heart. A left arm, a right arm, a left leg, a right leg—all uncomfortably armored with sticks and leaves and flesh and bone.
After the body was recognized, so began the mind. The first thought:
I'm myself.
Enza pushed herself to her feet. As she did, she nearly fell back down as a head rush overpowered her.
I must have been lying down for a while. Hold on, did I faint?
I got so overwhelmed by my own worrying that I fainted… Forget losing the race to Athalia; if that were to happen in the wrong place, I'd be dead outright. I suppose I just couldn't handle the thought of my mind being invaded again so soon…
From here, I need to take things slower. In part, this is to calm myself so I don't freak out again. But the situation is more complicated than that—an external force is acting on my mind here. That force was accelerating my thinking and making me pursue a reckless line of questioning, so the best way to counter should be with slow, deliberate thoughts backed by clear reasoning.
Even though Enza had just recovered and stood up, she decided to sit back down again. This confused the gargoyle greatly.
Can't exactly think slowly while I'm still in motion, can I? Forget that gargoyle, let me go backwards. What about the game itself? I barely had any time to process the game's bizarre setup before it began.
Temporarily ignoring the clues Azarias had given to the pair, Enza tried to remember the way he described the general idea of the game. It was quite a short description.
So, a race… I have to explore this courthouse, and Athalia has to explore the mine. Each location contains one Instrument, and only one of us will walk away victorious.
It seems like there are multiple things missing from this description, doesn't it?
For one, what about rules?
Not only that, but… what about a punishment?
It was the norm during the games to have a designated punishment for the loser. This punishment would be announced before the game began for the sake of fairness and anticipation.
There's one last issue. There isn't a time constraint placed on myself or Athalia, other than the condition linking our prizes to each other. Theoretically, what would happen if neither of us reached our prize? Would this game be stuck in a stalemate forever, or at least until we both die? There isn't even an indication of the expected time it'll take for either of us to reach our goal.
Enza paused.
Well, this isn't all bad, right?
If I want, I can let these unknowns scare me. But if being scared won't do anything for me, why be scared?
An unknown can be tied into a safety net just as easily as a noose of fear.
If the punishment is unknown, I will choose to interpret that positively. Not unrealistically, just positively. In the case of this race against Athalia, what if there isn't a punishment at all?
No, what if the punishment was hidden between the lines?
If I lose the race, I don't get the prize. Is that the punishment? Is the Instrument lying ahead of me so good that simply not getting to keep it is punishment enough?
…You know, that actually does sound a lot like something Azarias would do.
If I assume there isn't a direct punishment, I can take all the time I need. Whatever that prize is, it's surely not worth throwing my life into the bin so quickly.
She glanced up at the gargoyle again.
That thing… I have a feeling it'll be key to getting inside. The front door being glued shut is like I'm being directly told, "You won't be able to get in through normal methods."
And that raises a problem. If I have to talk to it to gain relevant information, how can I do that safely? Is such a thing even possible?
Well, the effectiveness of the psychological attack is linked to how close I am. Now that I'm a good distance back, if we talk from here, wouldn't it be fine?
I'll at least give it a try, and monitor myself for any mental issues in case the psychological attack is somehow linked to the act of exchanging words rather than physical distance. Now that I know what to look for, I should have plenty of time to react. I should minimize the number of words I say, and be intentional with which ones I choose… I need to think of an effective question…
She began pacing in a star pattern.
After a few repetitions, she paused at the point of the star she had started at.
Wait.
I just remembered.
I almost didn't register it.
Didn't that gargoyle say…
Yes, I definitely heard it. Before I fainted, the gargoyle made a remark about not having seen humans in a long time. It also referenced the Explorers as if it were familiar with who we are.
Enza's eyes were the size of dinner plates.
It's seen one of our own before, possibly more than one? But I've never heard of this gargoyle, nor have I heard of any courthouse on the Mountain.
This can only mean…
The Mountain Research and Exploration Institute was very meticulous when it came to keeping logs of expeditions.
Every time a team returned, they would have to undergo the tedious process of sitting down with the head of the exploration division and recounting everything that happened to them, down to the very last detail. Depending on the expedition length, this could be multiple days of just talking.
Studying the past was absolutely crucial for the Explorers. Besides learning from old mistakes, it was important because it was impossible for the Institute to accurately simulate Mountain conditions without actually going there, and you couldn't exactly take casual day trips to the Mountain.
Every Explorer had to know what happened on all expeditions that had ever taken place before they could even think about setting foot on the Mountain themselves.
Because of this, there was nothing more terrifying for Enza than to hear about Explorers having been to a place she didn't know.
…It really could only mean one thing.
The only time a log wouldn't be made was if that team didn't return at all.
A shudder ran from the tips of Enza's toes, climbed her spine, and bounced around her head before exiting her mouth as a choked gasp.
The gargoyle was now even more clueless as to what was going on inside her head.
"You need some water, or something? Oh, that's right, all but one of you Explorers has no need for it. Besides memories, that's another thing you need to reclaim, you know?"
Enza heard none of this.
There was no response from her other than heaving breaths. Her vision was locked on the green turf. A dull ringing filled her ears.
The gargoyle took this rare opportunity to complain to someone else about its life.
"Ha, do you know what gargoyles usually do on buildings? We serve as decorative fountains. Water pours from our mouths 24/7. It's miserable, you know that? It's the equivalent of being waterboarded. Only recently did someone finally turn that damned spout off for me.
"Because my mouth and head are the only parts of my sculpture with any function, all I can do is talk. It's just great. I get to talk and talk and talk to myself, all day. Do you have the slightest inkling of what that feels like—
"Shut up."
Enza's words came out as half growl and half scream.
"What other Explorers have you met? How did you kill them? What did you do to them? Tell me."
The gargoyle found the look in her eyes to be rather frightening. Enza looked like she was going to climb up and rip its stone head off with her own two hands.
"Uh, well, please recall my appearance. My arms and legs are stuck in place; killing people is generally not my strong suit. Also, please pardon me, but… you're the first Explorer I've ever met in person."