The ocean was a new thing to Elios. Much like the cities had been, but... it was far better than all the cities he'd seen combined. It seemed to move on it's own, back and forth in a rocking motion that he couldn't tare his gaze away from. He knelt slowly, and extended a hand to the water as it surged forward, drenching his boots and his hand. The water was warm. He smiled slightly, idly wondering what life forms and creatures could possibly dwell beneath the surface... he'd probably never know.
He straightened again, shaking the water from his hand as he stepped backward, his wet boots gathering up the sand as he went, but he paid that no mind. He turned his back to the water, gazing up at the coast, and the forest, where he had grown up... he'd never even dreamed of something like the great expanse of water five years ago. Streams and creeks were as good as it got. He sighed, about to go back the way he had come, when he spotted what appeared to be some sort of... old building.
It looked vaguely familiar. Like something he'd seen back home. Without hesitating he strode off towards it, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shoreline ringing in his ears, and the breeze whipped his hair over his shoulders. There didn't appear to be anyone else around, but Elion felt that... itching feeling that he was being watched. That tingling at the base of his spine. He tried to dismiss it, but couldn't ignore it.
He made it to the steps of the crumbling building, stamping his feet to rid his boots of the wet sand, it looked as though it was some sort of old church... he pushed the big, decaying wooden doors open with some difficulty, stepping through carefully. The doors shut immediately, plunging the elf into semi-darkness. The stained glass windows didn't provide much light, but.. Elion could almost see enough. Religeon was another new prospect to him, the Elves worshipped two gods, and that was all. It appeared the people here had several... he did find that odd.
He strode up to the altar, placing a hand over the long burnt out candles. Frowning slightly, for the wicks... felt warm. Even if the candles felt old. He let his hand fall away, and probably would have left then, but there was... a sound from somewhere beyond the altar. Elion slid immediately into a better stance, pulling his bow from his back - like it would do much good in the darkness - out of habit, an arrow already in his other. He remembered the other night a few days ago with Vincent. The last time he'd heard a sound in the darkness it didn't exactly have a very good outcome. He was betting on this being a similar case;
"Who is there?" He called, his voice gave away his uncertainty, and he inwardly cursed. Taking a careful step backward, maybe this chapel wasn't exactly 'abandoned' after all... the Elf had a bad feeling about all this.