Saracen stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at the small eye on the wall, a niggling memory avoided the forefront of his mind. Something about it was familiar, a tickling and poking questioning sensation throbbed behind the narrow slits below the deep furrows on his forehead.
The frenetic cleaning and busying of Beleth and Flauros created a subtle crescendo of irritation. Saracen forced his thick fingers into his ears and scrunched his face tightly. There was something...something important...something he missed. Beleth smashed something in the kitchen behind him breaking his concentration.
Saracen growled in frustration, he needed to focus. He threw the weight of his body onto the first brown carpetted step of Belial's ascending staircase and opened his eyes.
**the eye is looking downstairs. Hell is down. Has Belial gone to Hell again? No too much of a long shot, Belial would be more specific.**
Saracen looked up to the eye. There was no discernible emotion behind the plastic sheeting.
**Green. Jade. Emerald. Grass. Nature. Is there some significance in the colour? Is he on Earth? Green Grass of home? Another musical reference. Again too much like clutching at straws**
Brawn until this point had always been more important than brains. He was never a scholar, but there was something eluding him. Belial would know that he would not follow through something complicated. In a few minutes he would have to call Balthazar. Before then he would need to know his next course of action.
**Ok what is the eye looking at? It faces the downstairs hallway wall. A simple desk. A small box on the desk. Has the box always been there or is it planted?**
Saracen moved to the top of the stairs and followed the exact sight line of the eye and found himself looking at a small box on the computer desk.
The box itself was very ordinary, the same colour wood as the table on which the box sat. No decoration, and no lock. Had Saracen seen this box before? He didn't think so. Would Belial have taken such a risk as to leave such an obvious object in full view of Balthazar?
**An eye and a box. There is eomthing there, an eye and a box. Somethings missing. An Eye. A Box. Open the box. Open the box Saracen, come on you haven't got long.**
Saracen descended slowly, the box never leaving his eye and his mind turning and twisting in a race to open the box before his hands. He stood within a whispers breadth from the innocent wood when his concentration was broken by Beleth opening the backdoor holding broken ceramic stained with a sand brown colour. Beleth looked at Saracen sheepishly, he was always so clumsy, the teapot had discovered this the hard way.
**Saracen. The box. Get back to the box.**
Saracen reached out for the box and lifted the lid cautiously to be greeted with three objects. The first was a small sword, the same size as his little fingers. He held the plastic painted sword in his hand, temporarily admiring the articulate painting on such a small item. The second was a small dolls house window, a typical bay window arched at the top. The third was small model saxophone.
**A box. An eye. A sword. An Arch. A saxophone. The rabbit hole deepens. WAIT SARACEN. A box, an eye. Ringing any bells.**
Something was reverberating behind his eyes suddenly. But the window and the Saxophone was giving him a little grief. Common sense was not prevailing with the bulky warrior.
**But it is. The saxophone is a musical instrument. The Window is an Arch. Arch almost sounds like...**
Everything clicked violently into place. The musical instrument. Humans would not make a model of lyre anymore, and of course Arch sounds like...
**But where are they all? Have you looked hard enough Saracen, come on you're getting there. What are you missing?**
As if by a strange psychic answer a photgraph fell from the lid of the box onto the table. Saracen immediately understood, Belial's treasured photograph. He scooped up the box and called for his two comrades.