Izzik looked down at the bed, his antennae flicking about giving away the deep thought he was in. Elach took a sip of water from his glass bottle, listening to the hideaway spewing a myriad of curses towards Lighthome and the great lights that ruled it. But the silent question it had asked him to mull over was still rattling about in his mind; could he take the Hideaway with him? He’d wanted to say no, but Y’talla’s bond had flared up unconsciously just then and given him pause. And whether it was uncanny timing or a request for him to wait, Elach had five days before he had to give a solid answer.

Five days for Y’talla to finish whatever she was doing, five days to follow Prisoner’s footsteps and get out of here in one piece. More than enough time as it stands, but if Izzik was indisposed, it might not be enough.

“Izzik is well enough to move at this moment, but would not advise searching out the many lights until nightfall.” Izzik eventually said, but his words were cautious and carefully chosen. “The many little lights are not active while the sun is high.”

Elach noted Izzik’s hesitance, but couldn’t place anything that would warrant it. Unless…

“Are you scared that whatever did this to your legs will be there tonight?”

Not a flinch from Izzik, but his glowing eyes seemed to dim ever so slightly. He tipped his head down, and crossed one pair of arms over his chest in shame. “There is no chance; Occril the escort will be there. As Occril always is, and always will be.”

Slowly, Izzik raised his head to look Elach in the eyes. Elach set his water bottle between his legs, opening his arms wide in what he hoped was a welcoming gesture. “We can’t help you help us if we don’t know what we’re in for.”

Izzik let out a breathy, chittering laugh. “I suppose you are right, the Elach. Izzik will not bore you with the specifics, but know that Izzik and Occril were very recently of the same swarm. The dark-spawn and the new great lights changed everything, and Occril is now a shell of what Occril once was. Izzik does not truly know if the Occril Izzik knew is still alive under the cover of shadows, as Occril’s lightblood no longer shines through.”

Lightblood. From what Shar told him about Izzik’s bizarre combination of blood and Issi, that must be what these insect-people call it. Which meant they didn’t call it Issi, but light. Which meant that these great, little, and many lights were probably powerful manifestations and two words for wisps respectively.

Elach gestured with two fingers at his own eyes. “Your glowing eyes; is that your lightblood shining through?”

“It is.” Izzik confirmed. “It is considered polite to let only the bare minimum show through, with an obvious exception for the great lights.”

“Interesting. This might be good news, and might be bad news, but it’s been pitch dark for almost an hour now.” Elach leaned forward, trying to discern Izzik’s reaction to his words. It seemed to be nothing so far. “If Shar protects you from Occril, will you take us to where you gather the little lights?”

Izzik nodded but gripped the covers tightly. “Without hesitation.”

It didn’t seem as if there was no hesitation, and as Elach trailed his eyes down to Izzik’s covered legs, he noted that one was bouncing nervously while the other was deathly still. Izzik might be willing, but his body was still injured. He opened his bond to Flow and sent them a request, which they confirmed immediately, then he repeated it out loud for Izzik to hear.

“Flow, tell Shar to be back at the hideaway in an hour. Izzik’s legs will be good enough to go, and the light wisps only come out at night.” Elach eyed Izzik as he spoke, and the relief was plain to see. Izzik slouched over as his eyes dimmed for a moment, coming back brighter than ever. “Well, Izzik, we have an hour to kill. Anything important I should know before we go looking for trouble? Or, and I probably should have thought of this sooner, but do you know how Prisoner cleared this floor?”

“On the second, Izzik knows precious little.” Izzik said with a sad shake of his head. “Prisoner worked with a group of knights who were loyal to the old great lights, but those scattered to the winds when time took Prisoner from this floor. All I can say is that Prisoner’s group entered lighthome and never emerged, yet Izzik never felt any of the group’s light fade. It simply… disappeared. All at once. If you can confirm that Prisoner is alive, along with the rest of the group, then the requirement for clearing Izzik’s home floor must be within Lighthome.”

Just like Elach thought, but one thing bothered him. If Shar was sure he couldn’t deal with those hornets, and most of the other practitioners he’d come across in this floor group were about as strong or a little stronger than he was, then how would they clear this floor? Unless it was designed to put a complete stop to a practitioner’s climb, it didn’t make any sense.

He tucked that thought away for Shar later. “Looks like we made the right call with Lighthome.”

“Izzik assumes the Elach did as well. On the Elach’s first question; Izzik is unsure what information would assist you.” Izzik unfolded his arms, gesturing at a moss-covered square Shar had been using as a footrest. “That container has literature Izzik stashed away many cycles ago, long before the great lights condemned the light and brought the shadows upon the swarm. They are the Elach’s, if the Elach wishes.”

Elach peeled off a layer of moss to reveal a thin line of blackened metal running down the middle of the cube. He grunted and struggled to pry the stuck-together halves apart, eventually ripping one half of the metal lid from its rusted hinges in a spray of scrap and lichen. “Uh, sorry.” He said with a sheepish shrug, gently placing the removed half on the root floor.

Izzik buzzed with amusement, but said nothing. Elach supposed that was a good sign that he hadn’t angered him, but that could have been a buzz of hatred that he’d sorely misinterpreted. Ignoring that possibility, Elach reached down into the damp box and removed four hunks of coloured resin that were littered with abstract symbols and letters that looked similar to those he knew but arranged in a nonsensical fashion.

“I don’t know what I was expecting.” He murmured, holding up the bright yellow chunk to the dim light of the luminous moss. There was a dim core inside that ate away at the light as it passed through, and that felt a thousand times denser than the rest of the resin to his Issi senses. “But it wasn’t this.”

“What the Elach holds are memory eggs. They teach a hatchling all they would need to know about their lightblood.” Izzik pushed himself out of bed, kneeling beside Elach and removing the other three memory eggs. “Yellow is for the swiftness of thought, of body, and of lightblood. Red is for the knowledge of the swarm, of the culture and lives that came long before Izzik.”

Izzik placed the red egg in Elach’s hands, and Elach felt the draw of curiosity calling out from inside of it. It was just as dense as the yellow egg, but now that he held both, he could feel that the yellow one was somehow lighter. They were exactly the same weight, but it was lighter.

“Red might be of less import to the Elach, or it might be exactly what the Elach is looking for. Izzik does not know, and Izzik does not pretend to.” Izzik said with a shrug. “White is for failure, for knowing how to heal wounds of the flesh and of the lightblood system. White was always said to be the most important of all, and was required to be mastered before yellow or orange were advanced beyond the knowledge of an infant.”

The white egg was placed on top of the yellow egg, and Elach had to adjust himself to avoid dropping all three. Before he could get a word in, Izzik was explaining the last egg.

“Orange is the final memory egg Izzik could salvage, and it is for the strength of thought, body, and of lightblood. A twin to yellow, and a sibling to blue, which was unfortunately lost to time.” Izzik placed the orange egg on Elach’s pile, tilting his head to the side when he saw Elach struggling. “The shine of Izzik’s lightblood was determined after Izzik learned from all the eggs, as it was for all members of the swarm. Now hatchlings are coloured by the shine of the little lights, learning nothing of the lightblood they carry nor the history of the Lighthome they walk.” Izzik mourned, his eyes darkening.

Izzik’s eyes stayed dark until Elach cleared his throat. “Thanks Izzik, but I don’t have time to go through even one of these. I was looking for something more immediate to help. Like how Occril fights, or what to watch out for with the little lights, or how you locked yourself up after we met.”

“The answer to the Elach’s last question is simple; Izzik retreated to Izzik’s headspace the moment it seemed safe enough to do so. Do you not have a headspace?” Izzik asked, tapping the side of his head with one long finger. “Prisoner had one, as far as Izzik can recall, but does the Elach not have one of their own?”

Elach chuckled and shook his head. He’d completely written that off as a possibility. “No, I have one. I just forgot other people can have them.”

“As for how Occril fights, that is something that should be described to the Shar as well, correct? As the Shar will be fighting Occril as well, correct?” Izzik asked, waiting patiently for Elach’s confirmatory gesture before continuing. “If we agree, then we wait for the Shar to discuss Occril’s prowess. The little lights, however, will be the domain of Izzik and the Elach. Izzik’s name was given after Izzik developed a technique to call the little lights, and one that the Elach might be able to reproduce.”