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Beachcombing for Iron	By : dweller_of_roots Category: +G through L > Lighthouse: The Dark Being Views: 1025 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lighthouse: The Dark Being, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A pale light filtered through the room.
Liryl had been working for some time - she was far more of an early riser than I. I'd groggily offered to help her up - but Liryl had insisted that I rest, or perhaps really that she be allowed to do things on her own. Sleepy as I was - and respectful of her wishes - I was only too happy to let her do as she pleased.
It was a pleasure to watch her rise off of me, lithe body highlighted with that same orange light. She stretched once - then twice, as she watched me watching her. The little curl of her lips made me even happier then the way her pert breasts pressed together in that fleeting moment - there was no rush, no desperate moment to tear us apart. The rest of these days were ours.
... Liryl used her entire body to pull herself around the room. Though it had taken me some time to notice how subtly she used - or perhaps could use - her hips, watching them shift slightly and the small of her back arc as she pulled herself to the wheelchair she used was beautiful. I admired both her quiet strength, and her casuality - and for a moment, wished I was an artist instead of a writer. I thought back to the detailed drawings Liryl had done and I shivered.
But while I drifted in and out of sleep, Liryl had already set to the day's work - sprawling an array of wires, parts, and valves out onto the workbench I'd seen before. Some I recognized by appearance if not by name, but others looked more like mechanical sea anemonae, or even as if they had been carved from solid roots instead of made from wrought metal. She worked quietly enough not to disturb me - but my fascination kept me too focused to drift fully back into the realm of dreams.
She did not focus on herself at all as she worked - shifting and tilting her self-cut blond hair out of the way as if it were a nuisance, and nothing more. It was almost as if she was one of the machines she was working on; quiet, industrious, and focused towards a goal. A thought entered my mind of the priests who would once called this place home as well... Was it possible that they had encouraged this..? I remembered an audio-visual log Liryl had shown me, recorded from some time ago. No - if anything, it seemed like this is who she had chosen to become, and I liked it as all the rest of her.
Managing to suppress my - admittedly pretty sore - morning wood, I tried to find the energy to pull myself out of bed. To my surprise, it wasn't quite as difficulty as I'd made it out to be. I opened my mouth to speak to Liryl - but closed my lips as I saw that she was still hard at work. We were similar perhaps in that manner. I imagined all the times my editor had called me, and all the times I had put off discussions with others to do things I felt (rightly, or wrongly) to be more important. Leaving Liryl to her work, I quietly slipped outside.
To my pleasant surprise, the warm sun had already left my clothes all the drier - if not a little more blanched - then they had been before. Removing them from the one of the many strings hung from the temple interior that Liryl used as improptu clotheswires, I dressed in silence and watched the lazy orange sky above me grow steadily more red. It almost seemed natural, by this point. Throwing Liryl's dress under my arm, I slipped back into the temple proper, and quietly placed it back into Liryl's room.
She was still hard at work - fiddling with something that looked as if it had long ago been a mechanical arm, or perhaps something like it. Her eyes were clouded as if contemplating countless options, all of which had her interest. I decided it was best to still leave her to her devices, though the sight of her, naked and working animatedly, continued to make me yearn for the ability to capture her in art almost as much as I yearned for her. But - if there was one thing that I knew worked well to help keep the spirit of industry going...
It took me awhile to find the 'pantry' in the temple. Like most stored goods, it was down in the basement. Unlike most goods - or perhaps most pantries - there were no cupboards. Only huge containers of an iron-like material and a strangely floral design that 'unfurled' as I pried their lids outward. Inside were bags, tightly sealed and carefully labeled in what I could now recognize as Liryl's precise handwriting. One seemed to be a kind of flour, and that was enough for me. With the supplies I'd brought with me, I set about creating fried biscuits, coffee, and tinned orange juice - a fitting meal while the sky stayed so vividly colored.
Regretting that I had no syrup and didn't know enough about the rest of the materials to risk making one out of them, I took my bounty back into Liryl - who had gotten dressed in what I could only describe as a sort of priestly mechanics jumpsuit. She was spinning idly in her chair, not looking at the workbench and instead biting her lip. So lost in thought was she that when I stepped through the door carrying breakfast, she leaned back in surprise and nearly fell out of her chair! Looking beet-red, Liryl coughed several times.
"I hadn't... I did not see you there! You shouldn't - sneak up on me so suddenly. Is that... Food?"
Turning her head slightly to the side to stare confusedly at my - all right, pretty meager - breakfast offerings, Liryl slowly grinned from ear to ear, the redness fading from her face and only remaining in her eyes - as if I'd given her something more precious than just fifteen minutes of my time in the kitchen.
"This is... The first time, I think... Someone has cooked something for me. Thank you..!"
"What, does before not count? I mean, I know instant oatmeal isn't really cooking, but -"
Liryl was laughing, quietly and exuberantly.
"You know - I, I cannot remember the last time... That I could say I woke up... Hoping, just a little... To have someone share - their breakfast with me. It was such a minor thing I'd forgotten... All about."
Wheeling over to me with great speed, Liryl closed the distance between us so that her face was right in front of my chest. Her smile grew quieter and more subdued - not less joyous, but better contained. Tracing a single finger across my chest, she whispered something unintelligible between the quietness of her voice and the background static that interupted her as she spoke.
... Though I imagined I knew well enough as she held me tightly, and I held her back.
Of course, Liryl found plenty to complain with the actual breakfast itself, as (unfortunately) did I - cooking with xenoflour was nothing like cooking with the stuff I was used to; it was coarser even the the wholest wheat grain, and yet a little too sweet, as if the dough itself were laced with a fine coating of sugar. At least I hadn't added syrup, but it made me wonder about whatever plants might grow in a place like this...
"... Would you like to visit the - archives..?"
My heart skipped a beat. The prospect of knowing more about this world, and all of its ancient secrets - sounded amazing. My writers heart beat fiendishly at the idea I might be able to spend days listening to those who'd come before go on about their world; worldbuilding was perhaps the best part of my writing, and if even a few were narrated by Liryl, well... She must've noticed my expression, because the slightly embarrassed smile she'd held (the archives must be important, then) grew deliciously crafty.
"If you're thinking... It's just me talking to you, I'm afraid most are - just the priests, and those... Who came before. So it will be important for you to study and not... Slack off! Maybe I'll even test you with the test... I was given before I became an official ward of this... Temple."
Her voice grew excited at the prospect - her eyes growing bright and focused. My hands drifted to my brow thoughtfully.
"... Liryl, would that make me a ward of this temple, as well?"
"Yes."
Her voice was so quiet I could barely make it out of the electronic stuttering that interspersed her speech - but it made me grin all the same.
"Guess I'll have to do well then. It'll be damn hard to focus if it isn't you talking about things though. I take it you probably don't want to waste time going over stuff that's probably really simple, do ya?"
"Not in the... Slightest! Though I might help you out if you have questions and... Ask nicely!"
Her chiming laughter grew quiet as something unpleasant drifted across her expression. I noticed her hands draw close together, wringing against one another in a gesture that was highly unusual to see her make.
"Do you... Prefer my voice... Before - "
I stared at her, unblinking.
"I love your voice, Liryl. I love pretty much everything about you."
Giving the sky outside - which had failed to dim even as the dawn begin to fade lazily into the afternoon - a run for it's money with my blush, I tried to avoid Liryl's adoring (and slightly predatory) stare.
"D-don't make me repeat it or anything, geeze. Anyway. Seems I've got some studying to do - if I want to impress you that is, and maybe make a better breakfast than crunchy flatbread biscuits. Maybe you'd be interested in sharing what you're working on with me when I come back..?
Nodding her head enthusiastically, Liryl brushed a strand of stray hair out of her face - our fingers touching as we both reached for it at the same time. Time seemed to stand still and I kissed her forehead. Liryl's eyelids fluttered.
"I would like that very... Very much. Although you may not understand all of it -"
"More than likely. I figure you can explain the hard parts and I'll just create an elaborate fantasy about what the rest does!"
"- That would... be fine by me! It'll just mean you get to be more surprised when... It's finished!"
Rising up to to the tip of her chair, Liryl's lips greeted mine in a firm kiss, different from the sloppy ones we'd shared in the heat of passion before. Our lips didn't part for moments as I tasted her breath on mine. When we finally pulled away, the air surged into my lungs and it took all my effort to mutter a feeble comment about seeing her later, and stumble off to the archives. For her part, Liryl looked extremely pleased...
The archives, however, were not exactly what I'd expected. Each consisted of a small terminal in one of the many spiraling chambers of the temple proper - terminal after terminal that grew out of the floor like a tiny horn. More of the symbolic writing (why was it so different from the common script? Was it a purely ornate way of writing the language I'd seen others write, mutually intelligible to english?) lined the wood-and-copper like surfaces of them, and to my surprise - they spun slowly when touched.
Holding my hand to a terminal, I waited several seconds for it to 'boot' up, as we talked of the computers back home. As it did, messages and symbols flashed into the air, with a neutral voiceover narrating. With my free hand, I could select the symbols or places, and more would appear - before long, hours had passed and all I had learned were popular names of a canid-like animal that was now sadly lost due to the largely agricultural and island-drifting world, at least in domesticated form.
Most of the history was sung by the priests - some young, some old, most joyous and smiling as they recounted tales that had been recounted to them, time and time again. There was a lot of repetition of these tales - but hearing each version, with it's changes and re-evaluations, was itself telling. I learned of how the attitude towards machinery had gradually gone from the admiration of a tool, to a superstitious fear, to the love and restraint shown now. Of the drowning tides that had only stopped as the old factories and megapolises sank beneath the tides.
Of the priests realizing their time was likely drawing to a close, and yet facing each day with optimism and a sense of hope. Some personal stories were not so hopeful, of course - scared, or confused, or lost, perhaps. But these too had been memorialized and in them I felt strangely hopeful. As if, perhaps - no matter how terrible things got, I was not alone. The faces of the frightened initiates and aged ones alike seemed to grow brighter and more positive as they finished recounting their worries to the terminal. Perhaps, I mused quietly, it would not be a bad idea for me to try at some point.
... But the holographics I watched most were those depicting Liryl. She had indeed... Not always been so confined. I rewatched several of the recordings both before and after her accident to try to understand if she had changed - perhaps, how she had changed - in response to it. I was left with more questions than answers. What was certain that the priests of this place had always seen their ward - Liryl - as something special, perhaps both due to her being a ward of the temple and then - after the accident - unlikely to leave it, as well.
... I could not tell if I respected them for their pity, or felt as if they looked down on her, and grew angry at the thought. It was not my place to say - Liryl respected them, and whatever feelings she held were her own.
Perhaps most interesting was how quickly Liryl had taken to machines - both those responsible for helping her breathing and her spine performing as it should, and those that allowed her to move around; the various conveyance systems built into the temple proper. It was no surprise she'd create this world's equivilent of the wheelchair relatively quickly after it became clear she would need to rely on herself. But there was something almost spiritual in the way she interacted with the machinery, and watching her reflection in the later recordings - talking of discoveries she'd made and how best to utilize them - sent shivers of a different sort down my spine.
If you wanted to find a word for it... Pride.
It took me some time to realize Liryl had quietly rolled into the archives. Perhaps she'd been watching me, and for some time. Her expression was blank - not judgmental, but simply waiting for me to speak of my own accord.
"... I won't lie, I didn't take too many notes about the flora and fauna; but I figure I'll probably do better tomorrow morning. There's a lot here to learn though, let me tell ya!"
A flicker of a smile crossed her lips, but she did her best to hide it.
"You had... Taken some time to return, so I wanted to make sure... You hadn't left."
She fidgeted in her chair, uncomfortably.
"I wouldn't leave, Liryl. Is that - what you really were worried about?"
"... I... Did not want you to think that I - lost something. I do not want you to think that I am incomplete."
She spook firmly, and without regret. Our eyes met, and did not budge.
"It's probably pretty heretical to suggest that any 'incompleteness' you have, I'd be willing to 'fill' right here and now, right?"
I gave Liryl my best cheesy grin, and to my relief she burst into spluttering laughter. Trying to look stern and reprimanding while bursting back into peals of snickering didn't help her credability, but did make me genuinely happy with myself.
"Very heretical... Though I imagine that if we were the last, it might not be... So bad."
... Her skin was pale in the eerie blue light cast by the terminals. The jumpsuit fell to her shoulders, just far enough to show off the toned strength of her arms. The shape it made as it fell around her only accentuated the small slopes of her breasts, as if inviting my lips to taste the rise of their tender flesh. It took me a moments to slide her out of the rest of her suit, and she looked confused as I took her in my arms and, with some effort, hefted her over and out of her chair.
That look of confusion left her entirely as I propped her against my waist, my fingers grasping her hips tightly. Instinctively, her arms reached for and against the wall - curling against it as I first tested her innermost depths with my fingers. I could only make out the side of her face and half of it's pleasantly glazed smile as her breath hung raggedly in the cool archive air - but as light as her body was, I couldn't hold it forever... Both my strength and my lust grew impatient even as her sticky lust coated my fingers with it's tantalizing sweetness.
Liryl moaned quietly as I entered her roughly, sinking into her deeply enough that as she contracted around me I could see her fingers going white against the wall. I leaned forward to kiss her, and she tilted her head to mine, stealing a kiss from my lips - a bit of saliva falling to the floor as she panted in surprise.
I thrust into Liryl forcefully, my fingers digging into Liryl's flesh and pulling her against me to get in as deeply as I could. Liryl squirmed and writhed against my grasp, trying to push herself further onto my length - our frustrations only mounting until my fingers slid up, cupping her breasts and pressing her ever more firmly against the wall. With a surprised and pleased groan, Liryl leaned forward -and I nearly tumbled further into her, fingers clutching her breasts tightly enough to leave red prints where they'd been as I sloshed in and out of her cavernous walls.
With every movement, I could feel the juices spilling from her onto me. I could feel ours mixing, dropping to the floor - feel the tiny bulge my dick created as it slid deeper into her. With every thrust I saw more sweat trickle down her back, felt her movement grow more frantic. Her hair stuck out in every direction, a golden maze from which I could just see the pinpricks of her ocean-blue eyes - when I could see anything but the white haze of my lust, as I came into her, time and time again.
Finally, I remembered pulling out, still jerking wildly as my seed splattered against her back, leaving a trail to match and mingle with her sweat. Exhausted, we collapsed to the floor and against each other.
It was a long and sore walk back to her bedroom - and neither of us made anything to eat that evening. But as ridiculously wide as our grins wore - it felt absolutely worth it.
And tomorrow, perhaps I'd even be able to share a little more of what I'd learned with Liryl. I thought of the 'test' she'd mentioned, half in joking - and my heart began to beat faster. Though the sky was a vivid and inky blue-black outside... I could not sleep.
... If I became as she was, a ward of this place... Would it be acceptable to live here? Would it be fine if - things just stayed like this?
I mused on things for some time - and found every possible leading back to the woman sleeping on top of me, a content and peaceful smile upon her lips. On seeing that smile - my worries faded away, and the peaceful obliteration of sleep swept over me, swiftly and welcomed.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Beachcombing for Iron