ã€ŠShadows on the Wallã€‹


 Ch1 Boss Fight

    ¡°Isn¡¯t this the boss room? Where is it?¡± Jefferson asked. The rogue¡¯s daggers glinted slightly in the eerie light of the dungeon.

    The final room of the third floor was an open meadow. Thigh high stalks of heather painted thick purple lines across the grass, swaying gently despite the lack of wind.

    ¡°Could be hiding in the grass?¡± <mark>Merv</mark> hung back, as close to the door as possible.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> kept his expression neutral. The healer¡¯s timidity rankled, but it wouldn¡¯t do any good to make an issue if it. He flickered a fireball on and off in his hand, a fidget technique he¡¯d picked up in a previous dungeon.

    ¡°Hard to say,¡± said Jefferson. ¡°I¡¯ll scope the area. See if maybe we have to flush it out.¡±

    ¡°Watch your step.¡± <mark>Merv</mark> glared distrustfully at the meadow. The whole dungeon up to that point had had a bog theme, like it was a combination of water and earth rather than just one element. More than once, they¡¯d stepped on what looked like solid ground and found themselves waist deep in murky water.

    ¡°Of course. <mark>Emrys</mark>, keep an eye out.¡± The rogue shimmered once and vanished.

    Not for the first time, <mark>Emrys</mark> envied the rogue¡¯s disappearing act. If he applied himself to stealth magic, he could likely achieve a similar effect. In fact, when he had chosen the <mark>Arcanist</mark> class, Elder Winter had advised him to take advantage of the flexibility the class provided. <mark>Emrys</mark> was capable of using not just fire <mark>mana</mark>, but any type of <mark>mana</mark>. Aside from one healing spell though, he hadn¡¯t followed that advice.

    The fireball continued to flicker in his grip. The trouble with other <mark>mana</mark> types was that even if he could technically make use of them, the spells didn¡¯t come as easily as fire did. He wouldn¡¯t be able to start with a stealthy invisibility spell, he would have to start with a basic shadow spell and work his way up, in other words putting lots of arduous work on interim spells that he didn¡¯t care about.

    ¡°Should we go after him, do you think?¡± <mark>Merv</mark> whispered. ¡°Jefferson¡¯s taking a while.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> frowned. The healer was right. Jefferson was light on his feet and should have made quick work of a room of this size.

    ¡°Give him another minute,¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> answered, his voice low. ¡°If he found the boss, he might be setting up a sneak attack.¡± Jefferson had used that strategy on the previous floors, and <mark>Emrys</mark> had to admit it was incredibly effective. The ability to knock out a quarter of the boss¡¯s health with the first blow was a game changer in these fights.

    A loud smack echoed through the chamber and was quickly followed by a heavy splash. Before <mark>Emrys</mark> or <mark>Merv</mark> could react, Jefferson appeared beside them, his clothes dripping and muddy.

    ¡°It¡¯s like a Venus flytrap. It started small, but it¡¯s growing.¡± He spoke quickly, using the clipped tone of someone trying to impart a lot of information in a short amount of time. ¡°I cut off two of the heads, but it¡¯s a whole cluster. <mark>Emrys</mark>, you should be able to do some serious damage with fireballs. Focus on one head at a time. <mark>Merv</mark>, hang back as best you can. When you¡¯re out of ranged healing spells, come closer but watch your step. There aren¡¯t any obvious splash zones, but the whole meadow feels like a water bed. And if you hit the ground hard enough, it doesn¡¯t take much to punch through to the water.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> followed Jefferson through the thick stalks of heather. The ground beneath his feet gave way under the weight of him and sprung back into place when he moved, the effect becoming more pronounced with every step closer to the middle of the room. It was unsettling, to say the least, but they would have to make do.

    At first glance, the boss looked like a pile of smooth, oval leaves. Just as Jefferson had reported, the pile was swelling, growing rapidly in size.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> gathered his fire <mark>mana</mark> and concentrated it into a thin beam of <mark>superheated</mark> flame, immediately scoring a direct hit on one of the pods. Instead of catching fire, it popped open like a mouth. The underside of the leaves were a soft pink, and there were green tines along one edge like teeth. Now that he knew what to look for, <mark>Emrys</mark> could see that each pod seemed to be hinged where it met the stem, and the outer edge was gated by the teeth. The stems of each pod were growing from the same central stalk.

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    Jefferson threw a dagger with pinpoint accuracy into the pink maw of the open pod. The creature shuddered. The wounded pod shriveled until it was a dried brown husk, and fell to the ground.

    The creature swelled again, until each pod was the size of a man¡¯s head.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> frowned. The beast was unsettling, for sure, but so far it hadn¡¯t done anything particularly dangerous. It was just sitting there, rooted to one spot, letting them attack it. Something¡­wasn¡¯t right.

    ¡°Hit it again with your fire!¡± Jefferson called.

    Despite his misgivings, <mark>Emrys</mark> complied. Another beam of <mark>superheated</mark> flame shot out and made direct contact with a pod. Again the mouth opened, but this time it wasn¡¯t empty. The pink was dotted with black flies, and as soon as the way was clear, the swarm flew at <mark>Emrys</mark> with a vengeance.

    ¡°Aw, what the heck?¡± Jefferson complained. He threw <mark>shurikens</mark> at the open pod until it shriveled. If each pod was actually full of flies, they would have to change their strategy.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> canceled his <mark>superheating</mark> spell in favor of a less focused flamethrower <mark>cantrip</mark>. The flies were small enough that they dropped off fairly quickly, but as before with the loss of a pod, the boss doubled in size.

    ¡°We have to knock them out all at once,¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> shouted, ¡°or the bugs will be too large to manage.¡±

    ¡°If we do that, we will be overwhelmed by the swarm. Keep going one at a time.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> gritted his teeth but did as instructed. Jefferson was the party leader, and the middle of a fight was not the right time to argue. The next pod burst open, letting loose a torrent of <mark>mosquitos</mark>. Each was as large as his fist with a wicked needle-sized nose. He changed his spell to the more general flamethrower. Already he could see that they were taking longer to kill than the previous wave.

    This time, he didn¡¯t wait for the boss to finish growing before he started on the next pod. Fire lanced out at the creature, burning a black hole into its side until a swarm of dragonflies emerged. They were glittering blues and greens, beautiful in any other context. He showered them in fire.

    Several dragonflies burst through the curtain of fire, teeth gnashing. Their gossamer wings were dotted with flames, but the damage hardly slowed them down. They flew in jagged, darting motions. <mark>Emrys</mark> jerked back, but he was too slow to avoid the <mark>oversized</mark> insects, and they latched onto his limbs. They tore chunks out of his robes and then his skin, with their vicious teeth.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> yelped. Each bite of the dragonflies was a hot lance of pain. He circulated <mark>mana</mark> throughout his entire body, enduring the damage until he could unleash his most powerful spell. Fire exploded out from around his body, a whoosh of armor that started at his skin and extended just past his robes. The dragonflies shrieked and burnt to ash.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> canceled the spell and fell to his knees. ¡°Heal!¡± He called.

    <mark>Merv</mark> lobbed a ranged heal spell, and <mark>Emrys</mark> instantly felt the golden magic close his wounds. There was nothing to be done about his robe until he got back to town, but that was worth waiting for.

    ¡°We¡¯re doing great,¡± Jefferson crowed. ¡°This thing is nearly at half health and we¡¯ve barely taken any damage.¡±

    ¡°Speak for yourself,¡± grumbled <mark>Emrys</mark>. He lanced a bolt of fire at the boss. By this point, the pods were each as large as a mattress. If they kept growing like this, the insects that emerged would be too large to handle.

    His aim slipped. The stream of fire seared across the three remaining stalks. They popped open one after another, each releasing a swarm of insects.

    ¡°You idiot!¡± Jefferson screamed. ¡°One at a time!¡± But it was too late. The rogue darted through the swarms, slashing wildly with his daggers. He was able to kill insects with every slice, but there were so many.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> turned up the flamethrower spell and poured all of his <mark>mana</mark> into it. The cone of fire blasted against the flies, dragonflies, and <mark>mosquitos</mark> but it wasn¡¯t enough to kill the empowered creatures. They darted through the flames and emerged unscathed.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> backed away quickly. The ground bucked and swayed beneath his feet, but he kept his balance.

    Balls of golden magic lobbed through the air as <mark>Merv</mark> continuously healed Jefferson. The rogue was taking heavy damage in the center of the swarm as he hacked at the pods. After releasing the swarm they had begun to close, and the rogue feared that if they did, it would mean a second wave of insects.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> kept the continuous stream of fire going in as wide an arc as he could maintain. He couldn¡¯t back too far away from the boss without losing contact, so he was walking backwards in a circle around the creature.

    Which is why he didn¡¯t notice until it was too late, that a singed pod was swinging towards him. It struck him in the side, sending him tumbling to the ground. The weight of his fall punched through the thin layer of dirt and grass. In seconds he was submerged in muddy water.

 Ch2 Left Behind

    <mark>Emrys</mark> panicked. He flailed his arms and gasped, inhaling moss and water. Dirt and algae stung his eyes. The weight of his robes was dragging him down quickly, but he was able to orient himself by the light.

    He had to get back up to air. Already, his lungs were bursting.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> tilted his face up to the ceiling, turned his palms downward, and pushed fire out of his hands. The force propelled him up through the water with enough force that when he came crashing back down to earth, he punched a second hole into the earth. The impact punched out whatever air he had left in his lungs. <mark>Emrys</mark> repeated the propulsion spell more gingerly and clambered back onto semi-solid ground, hacking and wheezing.

    <mark>Merv</mark> slapped him on the back good <mark>naturedly</mark>. ¡°Hey man, welcome back to the party. Did you have a good swim?¡± He laughed.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> spat a glob of wet algae. He looked around wildly. ¡°Where is it?¡± He asked. ¡°What¡¯s next?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry man, we got it. You fired off on it and let loose all those bugs, but Jefferson focused on the stems, and as soon as that was <mark>KO¡¯d</mark>, the bugs wiped.¡± The healer waved him over. ¡°Come on, loot chests are about to drop.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> blasted a heat wave around his body and through his clothes. He was still filthy, but it was better than soaking. The effort of the spell sent a twinge through his body. He was running dangerously low on <mark>mana</mark>.

    Bright white light flashed through the room, and when it cleared there were three chests. Two were bright silver, and the third was bronze.

    ¡°<mark>Aww</mark> man, I keep getting the loser chest,¡± said <mark>Merv</mark>.

    Jefferson laughed. ¡°That¡¯s because you don¡¯t do anything. See, even <mark>Emrys</mark> got a better chest than you did.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> forced a smile. This was the first dungeon he had done with these two adventurers, and he had already decided it would be the last. The rogue at least was a competent fighter, and a healer was always useful to have in a party, but their attitudes were beyond grating. Not to mention that the healer¡¯s hesitation made him unreliable.

    He touched the silver chest that was embossed with a flame symbol, and the lid popped open to reveal a ring. It was a wide gold band with a coil of blue and green going through the center. As soon as he touched it, <mark>Emrys</mark> sensed that wearing the ring would enhance both water and earth spells. Objectively a powerful item, as most rings were only capable of enhancing one element, but it was useless to him.

    Elder Winter¡¯s advice echoed in his mind, that he should take advantage of the <mark>Arcanist</mark> class and learn more than just fire spells. With the ring¡¯s assistance, perhaps he could try again with water and earth. He had to admit, there was a certain appeal to being able to breathe underwater, or to rip the roots right out from under a plant monster.

    The ring fit easily around his index finger, not that that was any surprise. Dungeon gifts were always perfectly tailored to those who earned them. That was what made them so enticing to adventurers, regardless of the danger. One successful dungeon run could provide a year¡¯s wages.

    The dungeon never gave as much as it took, but the potential for riches had a way of blinding people to what they gave up: their <mark>mana</mark>, their energy, their very life.

    ¡°Hell. Yes!¡± Jefferson held up a clear vial of thick purple liquid. ¡°My daggers have been missing a good poison! A little bit of this, and the next boss won¡¯t last five minutes. What did you get, <mark>Merv</mark>?¡±

    ¡°Just another health potion.¡± The healer held up a glass vial stopped with a cork. The liquid within was deep red with shimmering gold swirls.

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    <mark>Emrys</mark> recognized the New Life potion. For any one of his friends and family, that potion could bring them from the brink of death to full health in a moment. It was an invaluable tonic that could only be brewed by alchemists on the level of the royal potions masters, yet to an immortal adventurer, such a marvel was ¡°just another health potion.¡±

    He shook his head. He had long ago sworn to clear every dungeon, and often the safest way to do so was with the help of immortals seeking adventure.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> cleared his throat. ¡°Are you guys ready for the next floor?¡±

    Jefferson and <mark>Merv</mark> shared a glance.

    ¡°We were thinking about calling it a night,¡± said the rogue.

    ¡°It¡¯s getting pretty late.¡± The healer, at least, had the grace to look abashed.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> slowly nodded. ¡°We can make camp here for a while,¡± he said, his voice measured and even. ¡°But if we rest for too long, that creature will <mark>respawn</mark>.¡±

    It was in the nature of dungeons to create and recreate the monsters that defended it¡¯s halls. Defeat was only ever temporary, until someone could reach the dungeon core and rip out the <mark>mana</mark> roots within.

    Jefferson frowned. ¡°We¡¯re not sleeping here. <mark>Merv</mark> and I are going back to our world for the night. We¡¯ll be back at the same time tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s only one floor left.¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> struggled to keep his voice from sounding too pleading. ¡°We could run through it quickly.¡±

    <mark>Merv</mark> vanished. As always when an immortal left this plane, there was no sound nor sight nor any indication that they had gone. They were simply there one moment and not there the next.

    Desperation seeped into his voice. ¡°I can¡¯t finish this dungeon without you. I¡¯ll die. I can¡¯t stay here, by the time you get back the boss will return and destroy me.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, man, I just don¡¯t have time to finish it out right now. Besides, <mark>Merv</mark> is already gone. We don¡¯t want to try this without a healer, do we?¡± The rogue hesitated, then flipped a gold coin through the air. <mark>Emrys</mark> caught it. ¡°Maybe this can help you. See you on the other side.¡± The rogue vanished.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> swore. He turned the gold coin over in his hand. It was a thick piece of metal embossed with a shield and two crossed swords. He closed his eyes and focused his intention on the object until he could sense its purpose.

    The coin appeared in his mind¡¯s eye, enlarged so he could make out every detail of the design. He had seen the image once before, engraved onto an adventurer¡¯s armor. It was the symbol of [Protection goddess/saint?]. The coin was enchanted to deflect one fatal blow per 24 hour period. It was a valuable tool, particularly since it had the ability to recharge.

    He wanted to throw it into the depths of the bog. He¡¯d completed dungeons on his own before, but never of this difficulty and always an element that was weak to fire. This water-logged earth dungeon had been giving him trouble every step of the way, and now he wouldn¡¯t have the rogue to pick up the slack or the healer to patch him up. He was as good as dead, and for what?

    The two immortals had approached him earlier that day, asking him to join their party. Their third member had stood them up, and they only had one day to clear the dungeon. <mark>Emrys</mark> typically refused to work with immortals he wasn¡¯t familiar with, but they had offered full healing and a hundred gold. Add that this was a dungeon he wouldn¡¯t have been able to do on his own, and he had agreed. He had foolishly, stupidly agreed.

    The loyalty he instinctively felt towards a group had not been reciprocated, and it never would be. It shouldn¡¯t have come as a surprise. With hardly any hesitation, they had left him behind. What he had to remember about immortals was that they didn¡¯t value human life. They could return from death themselves, though it temporarily weakened them, and he had witnessed immortals who cared more about that temporary weakness than about the permanent death of a local villager.

    Jefferson¡¯s parting gift only showed that some of them, at least, had some small excuse for a conscience.

    His fingers tightened around the coin until his knuckles turned white. ¡°If I make it out of here alive,¡± he vowed, ¡°I will never party with another immortal.¡± A low rumble shuddered through the dungeon as if in response.

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> pocketed the gold. Jefferson and <mark>Merv</mark> were gone. The boss would return long before they did. Waiting was not an option. The only way he could escape the dungeon was to complete the final floor on his own. Without the immortals watching, he could make use of the dungeon secrets to speed through the first three rooms. The boss would be more challenging, and if the Flytrap was any indication he would likely end up dead¡­ But he couldn¡¯t worry about that yet.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> took a deep breath and sat down, cross legged in the lotus position. Just because he couldn¡¯t wait all night didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t wait at all. A few hours of meditation would replenish his <mark>mana</mark>. If he was going to do this suicide run, he was going to do it as well prepared as possible.

 Ch3 Solo Run

    The double doors that led to the next floor were twenty feet of thick mahogany set into the craggy wall of the dungeon. Both were adorned with massive iron door-knockers decorated with the images of dryads emerging from watery depths. Across the top was scrawled a message:

    Terhyl stepped off the beaten path

    and found it was no experience at all.

    Emrys ran his thumb over the calligraphy. Every dungeon room opened with a riddle. Most adventurers ignored the writing, if they even noticed it in the first place. At first Emrys had thought it was some sort of adventurer etiquette, but over time he began to wonder if not everyone could see the messages. Elder Winter had certainly never mentioned them.

    ¡°Terhyl stepped off the beaten path and found it was no experience at all.¡± The arcanist murmured the words, unconsciously feeling that if he spoke them aloud he would understand.

    ¡°Stepped off the beaten path¡­so there must be another path available.¡±

    What could it mean to have no experience at all? Perhaps the alternate path was a portal that would teleport him immediately to the end of the room. He wouldn¡¯t get to experience the room. That would fit the riddle, but he¡¯d never seen a shortcut that circumvented the room entirely. Typically it offered an alternate route that was simpler in some respects and more technically complicated in others. Not that every dungeon necessarily followed the same rules¡­

    The arcanist shook his head. He was overthinking it. All the speculation in the world would lead him nowhere, if he couldn¡¯t find the other path.

    He stepped back from the doors, his gaze searching the surrounding area. Perhaps there was a smaller door off to the side? He didn¡¯t see one, but perhaps¡­ Emrys pressed his palm against the moss-covered stone and walked along the wall. He stepped slowly, his fingers probing every inch before he moved on. If there was a secret passageway, it would not be found carelessly.

    Only a few steps later, the thin layer of grass beneath his feet gave way. He had just enough time to suck in a startled breath before he plunged into algae-thickened water, sinking faster than made sense. It was more than just his weight pulling him down. It felt like a current, but it also felt like an intention. The dungeon¡¯s awareness permeated the boggy depths and it was pulling him down like a fish on the line.

    Emrys kicked his feet to no avail. A long strip of seaweed tangled up around his thigh, and for a terrifying second he was pulled off kilter until the seaweed tore away from its stalk.

    Fire burst from his palms as he attempted to rescue himself in the same way that he had during the boss fight. He succeeded in slowing his descent but was unable to reverse direction. He funneled more mana into the spell. For one glorious instant he started to propel back toward the surface, but the intent of the water strengthened and once more pulled him down.

    His lungs were burning with the need to breathe. He had never been the type to train his lungs, and it was taking all his self control not to gasp. At this point, he was far enough under water that even if he was able to pull free of the current, he would run out of air long before he reached the surface. There had to be another solution, or he was dead.

    The ring on his finger glinted in the waning light. Plus 10% affinity to water and earth magic.

    Emrys reached out mentally to sense the mana around him. Where before he would have felt a vague indication of magic in the water, he could now see the threads of mana that coursed through it. More than likely he was still only seeing a fraction of what was there, but it was miles better than what he had experienced with water before.

    He reached out with his own will. Long ago, he had learned how to send threads of his own magic outside of his body. It was an inefficient method of spell-casting, crude for all that it was intuitive. Elder Winter had beaten that habit out of him, saying that it was for lazy boys who couldn¡¯t be bothered to learn a spell properly. For all that Emrys had resisted at the time, he eventually had to admit that crude wielding of mana was the equivalent of building a house with a brick instead of a hammer.

    That said, it was effective enough when one didn¡¯t yet know the spells. And Emrys had deliberately avoided water. Fire was his element, and he felt an aversion to water magic that was almost purely based on principle.

    So he extended a thread of his own magic out into the water rushing past him. He looped that thread through a ribbon of mana, then anchored it in his lungs. Breathe, he told the thread, and his lungs filled with pure, blissful breath. It was more mana than air, but it had the desired effect.

    The arcanist¡¯s whole body relaxed. For a moment, the terror of being dragged down into the unknown depths of the dungeon was overridden by the sweet relief of not drowning, and he stopped fighting the pull. What would come, would come. And he would be ready for it when it did.

    The bog seemed to sense that he had stopped fighting it, and the pull lightened up until he felt more like he was drifting. If he closed his eyes, the effect was even peaceful.

    It didn¡¯t last. The current pulled him up into a cave and deposited him on damp rock. He sputtered the incantation to dry himself and his clothes. It did nothing for the mud and algae that clung to his robes, but it was better than nothing.

    The arcanist sighed. He really hated bogs.

    The side of the cave he had entered from looked just like a deep pool. If he didn¡¯t know better, he would have thought it a murky pond, thick with plant life and algae. There was no way to tell that it led to the deep bog that had sent him there.

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    In the other direction the cave narrowed to a thin passage, barely wide enough for a man. It was the only way to go. He squared his shoulders and set off. He was off the beaten path. What sort of experience that would lead to, he could only find out.

    The cave was damp in the sticky way of rocks that are soaking up moisture. He did his best not to touch them, but some parts of the passage stuck out inconveniently so that he had to turn sideways and cinch through.

    After a while, the winding path became familiar. It zigzagged every twenty feet or so and was gradually inclined. There was the occasional mossy patch along the rocks, but for the most part it was just damp, irregular rock. Not once did he encounter a living creature, monster or otherwise.

    It was eerie. He¡¯d cleared dozens of dungeons and not once had he gone so long without encountering the dungeon creatures. Not that he was complaining. The fewer monsters he encountered along the way, the more likely he was to make it through to the end of the dungeon. Bringing his chances of survival up from zero, to half a percent.

    A rumble shook the ground. Dust fell from the ceiling. Emrys glanced around but saw no changes. The rumble continued, though it sounded far away. It was coming from the opening of the cave, where he had started.

    He didn¡¯t know what that meant, but it didn¡¯t sound good. He shimmied faster through the narrow path, ducking and diving between the rocky protrusions with less and less care. They tugged at his clothes at odd intervals, scratching his arms. He moved faster. The rumbling was getting louder, and the sound of it instilled an instinctive panic that had him scrambling to escape. Suddenly the cave felt claustrophobic, and he had to get out.

    A light at the end of the tunnel appeared. Emrys blinked rapidly and looked away, but only for a moment. The end was near, and the passageway widened out toward the end. He practically sprinted out and collapsed on the ground.

    It was careless, he knew, but he lost control. His head was pounding, and he flattened his palms against the ground until he believed it was real. He was safe, however temporarily.

    He glanced back at the tunnel opening just as it collapsed in on itself. The rumbling shuddered to a halt. Within seconds, the secret passage that had allowed him to sidestep the dungeon room was completely gone.

    The arcanist took another deep breath and laid his head against the ground. If he got back home, he might have to take a few weeks off from dungeon diving.

    When he got back home. He had to keep a positive outlook, or he would defeat himself before the dungeon did. He was going to make it out alive. He was going to see his mother and his best friend again. He was going to be stronger for the experience. He was going to destroy this dungeon.

    Newly resolved, the arcanist clambered to his feet and surveyed the area. He had somehow climbed from the depths of the bog to a high vantage point of the next room. True to form, the secret passage had led him to the end of the room, and the exit door was within sight.

    ¡°No experience,¡± he muttered. The riddle must have meant that he wouldn¡¯t have to experience the dungeon room or kill any of the monsters.

    He strode across the last stretch of grass and gazed up at the double doors, searching for the message scrawled across the top.

    Terhyl hid from the world and found clarity.

    The field of battle is decorated by the

    pits of despair and the jaws of death.

    The first part was easy enough. ¡°Terhyl hid from the world¡± implied he would have to find a place to hide, at which point something would be made clear. An exit might come into view, or something else entirely.

    The second half was less obvious. His entire plan hinged on avoiding a direct fight though, so it might work out in his favor.

    The arcanist was as ready as he ever would be. He pushed open the double doors and stepped through. Immediately, he sank ankle deep into the mushy earth.

    ¡°Ughhhh,¡± he growled, ¡°I hate bogs!¡± Heat could dry out his shoes, but it would do nothing for the squelching mud that was squeezing into his boots. He took a deep breath. If this is what he had to deal with, so be it. So long as he could kill monsters from a distance, it wouldn¡¯t matter that melee fighting would have him trapped in mud before he could so much as land a blow.

    Looking out at the area before him, he could see thin trees poking up through the peat valley. As with every room so far, fog rolled through the flat stretches of land, and the piercing cries of birds combined into an eerie ambiance. Low-lying creatures prowled between the trees and high grasses, just hidden enough that Emrys could not count their numbers.

    The riddle had mentioned that the secret of this room would only be visible when he himself was invisible. Jefferson would have been perfect for the role. Once again, Emrys wished he knew the sneaking skills that were associated with rogue behavior. When he was done with this dungeon, he would have to seriously dedicate some time to learning that sort of thing. Even if it stalled his improvements in fire magic, it was too valuable to put off any longer.

    For now, he would have to find some other way to hide. If the monsters could use tall grass, maybe he could too. He noticed that the edges of the valley were lined with thicker trees and heavier bushes, so he clung to the wall and set off.

    Every rustle and creak made him jump, but he was able to slog through the mud into a small copse. He put a tree to his back and used bushes to hide him from the front, and he was able to look out at the valley. He was effectively invisible.

    The first trap was immediately obvious. From where he was standing, it was like a red beacon was shining onto a patch of grass about the size of a pillow. It would require decent aim to hit the target, but that was the kind of thing he¡¯d been practicing since he first learned how to use his magic.

    He concentrated fire mana into a tight ball in his palm. Years of grueling practice had honed this most basic spell into a perfect missile with only negligible leakage.

    He sized up the target and watched the patrolling of the nearby monsters. There were at least ten of them that he could see, and they were milling about. It didn¡¯t look like they were following a pattern at first, but Emrys was patient. It took ten minutes for the pattern to repeat, and there was a five second window where all ten creatures were close to the target. He watched them repeat the pattern three times to be sure he had his timing straight.

    There would be no way of knowing how large the blast radius would be, until he did it. There was always the possibility that he was overthinking the trap and it would be easier to kill every monster than he thought, but he had to be prepared for the worst. If any of the monsters were left alive, he would have to fire ranged attacks at them while they ducked into the natural brush of the valley. The thick mud sucked at his feet with every step he took, but the creatures didn¡¯t have the same issue. If they got within melee range of him, he would not last long.

    The arcanist took a deep breath and calmed his thoughts. He counted down the seconds until all ten of the creatures were in position, and he let loose his fireball. The spell was a hyper-dense ball of magic, and he threw enough force behind it that he wouldn¡¯t have to worry about not triggering the trap.

    Every single one of the monsters watched it approach. It was like they were transfixed by the sudden brightness of the fireball. The spell made contact with the target, and for a moment¨Cjust a moment¨Cthere was silence. Then the ground imploded. A smooth hemisphere of earth was abruptly gone, right where the monsters had once been.

 Ch4 Team up

    <mark>Emrys</mark> let out the breath he¡¯d been holding. Bingo. The field of battle was decorated by the pit of despair. The diameter of the trap had been about twenty feet. He¡¯d been overly cautious, but not by much. The creatures¡¯ pattern provided for about thirty seconds of wiggle room. It was likely that the next trap would require even more precision, so going forward he would have to be just as careful, if not even more so.

    He extracted his feet from the mud and continued on. Sitting still in one place for so long had settled him deep into the mud. He¡¯d have to remember for next time.

    Would it be possible to heat the mud so he didn¡¯t sink into it? It might be worth a shot, but it also might be a waste of <mark>mana</mark>. He didn¡¯t know if he would have the opportunity to meditate again before the boss fight, in which case it would be better to just suffer the mud.

    The next copse was just as obvious as the first. Where the rest of the woods were oddly spaced, the copse was a perfect hiding spot for a sniper.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> settled into the curve of the trees. Once he was well and truly hidden from view, the trap was once again apparent. A glowing red spot, this one about half the size of the first, in the midst of¡­ Actually, he couldn¡¯t see any monsters at all.

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> blanched. If he had walked out there on his own, the creatures, wherever they were, would have blindsided him. Even now, he had no idea if they were following a pattern like the first group had, or if any moment at all would be sufficient to take them out.

    He watched for as long as he could, but there was no hint of movement. No way to tell if timing was important. He formed the fireball spell in his hand. This time, he paid even closer attention to the density and power of the fireball. What he was lacking in precision, he would make up for in power.

    It never crossed his mind that his spell might miss the target. If he was shooting a bow or throwing a knife he might have worried about his aim, but magic was so deeply ingrained in who he was that he never doubted.

    The fireball arced into the air. To his eyes it painted a smooth curve from his position to the target, and it landed perfectly. Again there were a few seconds of hushed silence before the ground imploded, and a perfect hemisphere of bog suddenly collapsed in on itself.

    It was only then that <mark>Emrys</mark> could see the monsters he had killed. Snakes littered the dirt, crushed and bisected. Just under the grass had been a nest of them, but they had all been wiped out by the trap. Hopefully all of them.

    He shuddered. An unsuspecting adventurer would walk right over the nest without realizing and find themselves attacked from below. Snakes were perfectly suited to ambush attacks in the bog environment; they could slither through water just as easily as through grass. Facing that many foes at once, he would have been a goner. To survive something like that, an adventurer would have to be strong enough to kill each snake in one hit.

    He squared his shoulders and headed for the next copse. By this time the thin stretch of forest was becoming familiar, and he strode confidently. <mark>Emrys</mark> settled into the curve of three tree trunks butted up against each other and ducked down so the bushes completely hid him from view.

    Once again, the target was clearly highlighted by a red beacon, and again it had shrunk to half the size of the previous. The fireball formed in his palm, flickering off and on as he concentrated. This trap was more like the first; he could see the monsters roaming around. There were some of the same creatures from the start, wolf-like with long necks and flat feet. He thought he could also make out the flick of a snake¡¯s tail, but he couldn¡¯t be sure.

    He settled in to watch for a patrol pattern. His aim would have to be precise, and he had to catch as many of the monsters in the blast as possible.

    After about twenty minutes, he thought he understood the pattern. He would watch it twice more to be sure. Ten more minutes passed, and the creatures deviated from the pattern. The wolf-like monsters all stopped in their tracks and looked up, not at him but back towards the front of the room. One by one they prowled away from the trap target, disappearing into the brush.

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> swore. Whatever had caught their attention could not be good, and the deviation from the pattern set him back enormously. If he set off the trap now, it might draw their attention to him and end up causing more harm than good.

    He kept going. It wasn¡¯t likely that the dungeon would let him pass through to the next level while monsters were still wandering about, but it wasn¡¯t impossible either. It was rare that adventurers actually did a full clear of each room, because that wasn¡¯t what was required. Some monsters hung back in the darker corners of the dungeon, guarding special rooms or treasure. Others wouldn¡¯t join a fight unless provoked.

    No, the requirement was that the fight be won. In the case of your standard adventurer, that meant clearing out all the aggressive monsters. For him, it meant triggering all traps and killing the associated creatures.

    Which he hadn¡¯t completed. Because something had pulled their attention away.

    It wasn¡¯t likely that the next door would open for him, but there was too much he didn¡¯t know. He didn¡¯t know what had distracted the creatures, and he didn¡¯t know how that would impact his ability to move on.

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    So he had to try.

    He slammed through trees and bushes, keeping an eye out for danger but otherwise caring more for speed than stealth.

    The door to the boss room appeared all at once when he passed the last of the trees. It was a set of double doors as before, but they were even larger and grander than before. He looked for the riddle at the top of the arch, but he couldn¡¯t make it out. The simplest explanation was that it was because of the distance, but it felt like more than that. He had the sense that the riddle was being hidden from him. When he peered at the words, it was like the calligraphy had been smeared.

    He pushed at the door with all his might.

    It did not open. He slammed one of the knockers against the wood, the noise echoing through the room. But still, the door would not open.

    Something wasn¡¯t right. He had solved the riddle and triggered the pit traps. He¡¯d had to skip the last one, but those monsters weren¡¯t being aggressive to him. By all rights, he should be able to move on, and yet¡­

    He looked back at the room he had skirted past. It was the same boggy theme that had plagued his party throughout the dungeon, though this room had rolling hills and the occasional line of stunted trees. Nothing to indicate a deviation from standard dungeon rules.

    A high-pitched shriek echoed through the room.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> sucked in a breath. Monsters didn¡¯t attack unless provoked, or if they sensed an adventurer in their vicinity. He hadn¡¯t provoked anything, and he couldn¡¯t see any in his vicinity.

    Which meant¡­

    Another adventuring party had entered the dungeon and reached this floor. A party who either hadn¡¯t noticed or hadn¡¯t cared about the message on the door.

    A party he could join.

    He waited with bated breath for the adventuring team to make it all the way through the room. Briefly he considered venturing out to meet them halfway, but he had taken the secret passage for a reason; this dungeon was beyond his ability, and if he went alone, even for a short time, it would be suicide.

    Banshee shrieks continued to echo through the room. The sound would last for a short burst, or a quick series of bursts, and then violently gurgle to a stop. Whoever it was, they were giving the monsters just enough warning to see them coming and killing them almost immediately after.

    It felt like forever, and like no time at all, for the first warrior to come into view. She was tall and lithe, with dark armor and darker hair tied up in a ponytail that hung to her waist. In each hand she held a long, thin sword, and she walked with the veteran vigilance of a seasoned warrior.

    She was the most beautiful woman <mark>Emrys</mark> had ever seen.

    ¡°Hey there,¡± he called out after she had slain the last of the dungeon monsters.

    The woman froze. ¡°Hello.¡± She cocked an eyebrow. ¡°Thanks for the help out there.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> winced. ¡°I¡¯m afraid this dungeon is somewhat beyond me. I came here with a few adventurers, but they¡­had to leave. I feared that if I joined the fight, it would be too much for me on my own. Besides,¡± he smiled, ¡°it sounds as though your party is capable enough.¡±

    ¡°My party? It¡¯s just me out here.¡± The woman looked him over. ¡°What actually happened to your teammates? If they¡¯re dead, I don¡¯t want to be in your party.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> scowled. ¡°They¡¯re immortals,¡± he spat. ¡°They¡¯ll be back tomorrow. <mark>Nevermind</mark> that by the time they plan to return, the boss we defeated would have <mark>respawned</mark> and killed me before I could blink. <mark>Nevermind</mark> that I risked my life getting them as far as we did, they couldn¡¯t be bothered to finish what we started.¡±

    ¡°I¡­see.¡± The woman considered his words. ¡°If this dungeon is so far beyond your level, how did you make it through the last two rooms?¡±

    ¡°Well, I had some help on this last one.¡± He grinned, but she only gave him a flat look in return. ¡°I was careful,¡± he shrugged. ¡°Mostly, I just <mark>snuck</mark> around and used traps. Of course, when you came into the second room, the monsters started heading toward you instead of my traps, and that¡¯s when it all fell apart.¡±

    ¡°<mark>Hm</mark>.¡± She fell silent again, her eyes contemplative. She sat in silence long enough that he was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Just before he spoke up, she held out a hand. ¡°I¡¯m <mark>Zereh</mark>, by the way. I can get you through the final boss fight, but I want your share of the loot, non-negotiable. I¡¯d prefer to clear it on my own and get the bonus rewards for doing so, but you need me. So what do you say? Would you like to join my party?¡±

    He shook her hand without hesitation. ¡°<mark>Emrys</mark> <mark>Arcanist</mark> at your service, and absolutely. More than likely, teaming up with you is the only way I can get out of here alive.¡±

    Their party bond officially formed, and <mark>Emrys</mark> was able to sense <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> general location and health.

    ¡°Good. This is just so we can get you out alive, you understand? I would be able to take on this boss alone. I¡¯ve been doing the entire dungeon solo, and I don¡¯t have to stop now.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> held his hands up in abject surrender. ¡°Of course. No argument from me. I¡¯m a dead man if I go in alone.¡± He said the words lightly, but he felt giddy. He was saved. For the last several hours he had been forcing down the terror of facing a battle that he wasn¡¯t prepared for. That sort of thing could only be ignored for so long; to have it suddenly lifted was a surreal level of relief.

    He did feel a small pang of regret for giving up his share of the loot. For this powerful a dungeon, the rewards were bound to be magnificent. But it was worth it. Of course it was worth it. Loot would do him no good at all if he was dead.

    ¡°Take this before we move on.¡± <mark>Zereh</mark> passed a red vial to <mark>Emrys</mark>.

    ¡°Is this¡­?¡±

    ¡°A moderate health potion. For someone who didn¡¯t do any fighting, you look pretty beat up.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> forced a smile to hide his embarrassment. ¡°Those trees are brutal, I¡¯ll have you know.¡± He threw back the potion in one gulp. It wouldn¡¯t have been strong enough to heal a more devastating injury, but it was plenty for the cuts and scrapes he had gathered during his mad dash through the two deadly rooms. Warmth slowly suffused his entire body, tingling where the life magic met his injuries. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    The warrior just nodded. ¡°There¡¯s no sense going into a fight at less than full strength. How are your <mark>mana</mark> reserves?¡±

    ¡°Nearly full. I had a chance to meditate not too long ago, so I¡¯m ready to go.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    ¡°And you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve only got one spell, and I have more than enough <mark>mana</mark> for that. When we get in there, stay back as much as possible. It wouldn¡¯t hurt for you to throw in a ranged attack every so often, but I should need your help so prioritize your safety above all else.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> nodded. What a strange woman. She was stoic and direct, almost gruff in the way she addressed him. The way she spoke was callous and disinterested, but her actions were beyond considerate.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

 Ch5 Sacrifice

    The heavy door slammed shut behind them. The room ahead consisted of a small hut, a bubbling cauldron, and a peaceful meadow that set <mark>Emrys¡¯s</mark> teeth on edge.

    He hung back near the door as <mark>Zereh</mark> crept further in. He flashed back to <mark>Merv</mark>, hanging back while he and Jefferson engaged in the fight. It had seemed weak and pathetic then, that an adventurer would shrink from a fight they had signed up for. But here he was, doing the same thing.

    Well, in this scenario he was weak and pathetic. He had bitten off more than he could chew, and in the future he would stick to dungeons he knew he could survive with or without his teammates. He would never be in this position again. Live and learn, his mother would tell him. Just do better next time.

    A high-pitched cackle startled the <mark>arcanist</mark> from his musings. The noise seemed to come from everywhere all at once, and <mark>Emrys</mark> instinctively conjured fireballs above his palms.

    ¡°Two little mice have come to play,¡± crooned the voice of a woman. ¡°But didn¡¯t your mothers tell you that it¡¯s rude to show up unannounced?¡±

    The bubbling in the cauldron intensified. Thick green fog began to roll over the lip and onto the grassy meadow. Rather than spreading out and dispersing, it all coalesced in a steadily growing pillar. As they watched, the pillar developed a few exaggerated curves, two arms, and a tall, pointed hat. One of the arms lifted up, developed fingers, and snapped. The sharp crack reverberated through the room, and all at once the bubbling stopped. The fog sharpened into features, and a witch stood before them.

    She wore a floor length gown that was the same deep emerald green of the fog. In some places, the dress seemed to still be fog, and a transparent slit showed the curve of her thigh.

    Around her neck was an obsidian necklace. Thick, wavy red hair fell across her bare shoulders all the way down to her waist. Atop her head was the type of pointy black hat young witches dreamed of, complete with the little down-turn at the tip.

    ¡°A bog witch,¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> murmured.

    ¡°Silence, boy,¡± the witch snapped. ¡°I watched you sneak through the tunnel like a rat. I saw you run and hide rather than fight like a man. If you think¨C¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just men who can fight, bog bitch,¡± <mark>Zereh</mark> snapped. ¡°And he¡¯s not the one you should be worried about.¡± Her swords glinted with an otherworldly shine. Her brown eyes flashed bright for a moment, and a soft glow traveled up from the hilt of her swords all the way to the tip, until it looked like the blades themselves were emitting the light.

    No sooner had the spell completed than she pounced. Her swords flashed almost quicker than the eye could follow, but they met only air.

    The witch had vanished from where she stood and reappeared on the other side of the cauldron. ¡°Not so fast, <mark>girlie</mark>. I like to play with my food.¡± She cackled, and again the sound of her laugh traveled across the walls. The witch stretched her hand out over the cauldron and started chanting. ¡°[not sure if I want to put a real chant here, or just some <mark>chanty</mark> nonsense]¡±

    The bubbling in the cauldron returned, this time an overflowing of red fog.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let it touch you¡±, said <mark>Zereh</mark>. ¡°I think it does poison damage.¡± She lunged forward again, and again the witch evaded her. <mark>Emrys</mark> watched her move. At first glance, the witch seemed to teleport, but the second time he realized that it was more of a fast side step. It wasn¡¯t a straightforward teleport, because she had to step into what was probably a portal¡­Not that he had seen a portal. But her movement was <mark>portalesque</mark>.

    He held his breath as he waited for the right moment. Just after <mark>Zereh</mark> dashed forward, he sent out both fireballs, each one just a few feet to either side of the warrior.

    His gamble paid off. One of the fireballs was a direct hit on the witch¡¯s shoulder, leaving behind a black scorch mark. The witch shrieked.

    ¡°You fools! You have no idea who you¡¯re dealing with or what hell you¡¯ve unleashed. It would have been better for you to have let me kill you quickly.¡± She threw her hands up, her painted nails poised, and screamed. <mark>Emrys</mark> clapped his hands against his ears, but it did nothing to dampen the sound.

    The witch vanished, reappearing just outside the hut. The grass surrounding the cauldron bulged and bubbled, blurring the lines between solid ground and liquid.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> backed up, her swords held at the ready. <mark>Emrys</mark> had to admire the way she never let down her guard, even for a second. She was prepared for anything, and she walked with the coiled confidence of a warrior who knew what they were capable of.

    One by one, the bubbles burst. Pockets of earth opened up to reveal the ancient lake that rested below the surface, and out of each opening rose the long, flat head of a monster. Lips curled up to reveal a row of teeth that stretched across the creature¡¯s entire face. Ninety percent of its head was jaw. One of the closer ones widened its mouth experimentally, causing its entire head to hinge at the back. When the creature snapped its mouth closed, the action sent a loud crack through the air.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> wasted no time admiring their teeth. The monsters were beginning to claw their way up onto the grass, and once they did they would become that much harder to fight. She brought her blades down on the neck of one such creature. In one powerful blow, she carved straight through its scaled flesh.

    For an eerie second, black eyes continued to blink and wide nostrils continued to flare. Then, it stilled. The body of the beast sank back down into the water. <mark>Zereh</mark> was already moving on to the next one.

    She killed as many as she could before they could get their feet on land, but the red fog pushed her back. The fog was low, but the creatures¡¯ stubby legs kept them mostly below it. Only their eyes and nose were above it, like disembodied heads swimming towards her.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> tore his eyes away. The warrior fought with mesmerizing grace, and he understood why she had been so confident in clearing this dungeon on her own. But she wasn¡¯t alone, and he owed it to her to make the fight that much easier.

    He knew she could handle the creatures on her own, so he searched for the witch. She had <mark>portaled</mark> to the hut when the creatures appeared, but she wasn¡¯t there any longer. At least, not obviously.

    The hut itself was round, just large enough for one room and made of stone. Rose bushes decorated the front step, and there were two round windows on either side of the wooden door. It had a thatched roof which, if he squinted a little, resembled the witch¡¯s hat. The stone could be a problem, but the roof looked flammable.

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> hesitated. If the witch wasn¡¯t so obviously evil, he would have said the house looked cute. It was like something out of a children¡¯s story.

    ¡°They just keep coming!¡± <mark>Zereh</mark> interrupted his musing. ¡°There¡¯s something I¡¯m missing, something to get us to the next stage. Do you see anything?¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> shook himself. ¡°I have an idea!¡± Before he could second-guess it further, he shot both of his fireballs at the roof of the hut. Just as he had suspected, the fire caught quickly and the whole roof went up in flames. For a moment, the flickering flames sharpened into the image of a pointed hat.

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    The witch herself came screaming out the front door. ¡°My house! My home!¡± she shrieked. ¡°You rotten children. You venomous wretches.¡± She waved her arms in a pulling motion, and a wave of water came out of the ground, crashing over the house to douse the flames. The roof, once a light brown, had been charred to brittle black. ¡°I¡¯ll show you what happens to vandals.¡±

    With a wave of her hand, the red smoke and scaled creatures sank into the earth. Black smoke gushed from the cauldron and immediately funneled into the holes in the earth. The witch chanted unintelligibly, her fingers twisting like she was conducting a symphony. Out of the earth rose skeletons. Instead of bone-white, they were black as the smoke that had risen them.

    The witch cackled. ¡°Meet your forebears,¡± she sneered. ¡°They too tried to fight me and met their foolish end. I will spill your blood and suck the marrow of your bones, and you will join them.¡± She clapped her hands, and a lightning bolt struck the ground at her feet. Electricity arced across the wet grass to every skeleton, so that each was coated in a thin armor of lighting.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> blinked rapidly, trying to disperse the after-image of the lightning bolt. When his vision finally cleared, the witch was gone. The skeletons were already converging on <mark>Zereh</mark>, who wove through the battlefield like a dancer. She slapped the skeletons with the flat of her blades, cracking their bones and moving on before they could touch her. Each attack only did partial damage, but she ducked between them and circled back around to hit them again.

    She could hold her own against them, so <mark>Emrys</mark> knew he had to look at the bigger picture. He had seen bosses like this before. They threw endless waves of minions out to fight for them, and if the adventurers got caught up fighting them, they would never truly advance the fight. They were a distraction, and an effective one at that. It was the most dangerous boss-type to fight as a solo <mark>dungeoneer</mark>, because on top of clearing out the minions, you had to be on the lookout for ways to attack the main boss¨Cin this case, the witch.

    The roof had been somewhat obvious. The hut was a centerpiece, so damaging the house was as effective as damaging the witch. With her being inside the house, it was even more obvious that damaging the house would be damaging to her.

    But the lightning had caught him off guard, and he didn¡¯t know if she had gone back inside the hut, or if she was hiding <mark>amongst</mark> the trees.

    He fired off a spell at the next best thing: the cauldron. He worried that just heating the cauldron would activate whatever was cooking inside, so he focused his attack on the ground below it. He sent a <mark>superheated</mark> line of fire in a circle near the base of the cauldron, burning through the grass and weakening it, until it began to tip over. Just as he¡¯d expected, by the time the thin layer of dirt and grass had weakened enough to tip over the cauldron, the potion within had also heated enough to begin bubbling dangerously. With that in mind, <mark>Emrys</mark> had lined it up such that the cauldron tipped over in the direction of the hut, sending the potion straight for the rose bushes.

    The bubbling black liquid wilted everything it touched, and within moments the rose bushes had warped into a twisted, decayed version of what they once were. The petals were overgrown with mold, and they wept thick gray drops. The skeletons sank to their knees and collapsed, their bones clattering against each other in a haphazard pile.

    Once again, the witch appeared before her hut. ¡°My roses! That¡¯s it,¡± she snarled. ¡°I will carve out your eyes and melt the flesh off your bones. I will snap every ligament and sever every nerve. You pathetic little twerps don¡¯t deserve to take another breath. I will cleanse you from this earth!¡± Lightning crackled behind her.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> kicked a skull. There was no rhyme or reason to the action, just pettiness. <mark>Emrys</mark> watched as she conjured a vial of health potion out of her pack and sucked it down. She had been able to stay a step ahead of the skeletons during that battle, and had even downed just over half of them, but it had taken a toll.

    She was clearly a high-level warrior, and <mark>Emrys</mark> could see how she made it so far in the dungeon on her own. But he couldn¡¯t help but think this final boss would have been too much for her on her own. A battle such as this required a multi-pronged approach, or a complete wipe of the minions before focusing on the true target. Even <mark>Zereh</mark> didn¡¯t have that kind of stamina.

    Probably.

    To be fair, he didn¡¯t actually know everything that she was capable of. But he also liked the feeling that he was contributing in a very real way to the fight.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> grinned. It was the first time <mark>Emrys</mark> had seen her smile, and it was a vicious thing, all teeth and no mercy. ¡°Now I¡¯ve got you,¡± she muttered. ¡°If you think a little lightning is enough to scare me off, you¡¯ve got another thing coming.¡±

    She and the witch circled each other. The witch was acutely aware of the damage <mark>Zereh</mark> could do with those swords and didn¡¯t want to get too close. <mark>Zereh</mark> lashed out with a blade. The witch smirked, knowing she was out of range.

    But <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> blade was assisted by a skill. Two feet further than the tip of the blade, a blue light trailed through the air, cutting through the witch¡¯s midsection.

    She screamed in pain and stumbled back. Green lightning sprung from the witch¡¯s fingertips. <mark>Zereh</mark> tried to dodge, but the lightning followed her. For a moment the warrior lit up as electricity crackled across her body.

    Immortals never truly felt pain, <mark>Emrys</mark> had noticed over the years. Oh, they noticed when they took damage, but it was more of a detached recognition than actual pain. It made them reckless, but it also gave them the ability to push past an injury that would have been debilitating for a mortal. <mark>Emrys</mark> had once seen an immortal keep fighting on a broken leg. It slowed him down for sure, but it didn¡¯t stop him.

    So when <mark>Zereh</mark> froze as the electricity traced the contour of her armor but didn¡¯t cry out in pain, her muscles locked up in shock until the magic ran its course, <mark>Emrys</mark> connected a few dots. She was a powerful warrior with a heavy stock of healing potions. She was entirely fearless running a dungeon on her own, and though she had demanded his share of the loot, she hadn¡¯t made any mention of the <mark>manaroot</mark> at the core of the dungeon.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> was an immortal. Just hours after he had made a vow never to party with an immortal again, he had broken it. He wanted to scream, to cry, to rage at the injustice of the world and his own impotence. Of course, he hadn¡¯t had a choice. Of course, he would have died without her assistance, and if he was being honest, the chances of a purely mortal party finding him at the right moment was so unlikely as to be nigh impossible. It was pure desperation that had prevented him from realizing the obvious immediately.

    And of course, none of those things were the priority in that moment. The witch¡¯s lightning spell had <mark>Zereh</mark> in a full-body lock, and it was steadily draining her health. There was no telling how long she¡¯d be able to keep the spell going and how much damage she would do in the process.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> began chanting the spell for his most powerful attack. He would only get one shot at this; once the witch¡¯s attention had shifted to him he would be as good as dead, so he had to do as much damage as possible in one hit, to give <mark>Zereh</mark> the chance to finish her off.

    Thick clouds of smoke formed above the witch. They swirled above her head, steadily brightening with red and orange. He let the spell charge as much as he dared ¨C <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> health was still draining with every second he spent casting ¨C and unleashed. Fire rained down on the witch. Each drop of fire hissed when it touched her skin, and she jerked away. She dropped her spell to try and dodge away from it, but the clouds followed her.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> turned to <mark>Zereh</mark>. Quickly, he cast a defensive spell on her. ¡°You¡¯re fire resistant for forty-five seconds,¡± he said.

    ¡°Plenty of time.¡± <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> grip tightened on her blades and dashed into the firestorm. <mark>Emrys</mark> quickly lost sight of her and heard only the furious screams of the witch.

    ¡°It¡¯s resistance, not immunity!¡± He sensed his teammate¡¯s health slowly ticking down as she too was caught in the storm. She ignored his cry. The firestorm was preventing the witch from using any of her spells, which made it the only way <mark>Zereh</mark> could get close enough to use her powerful melee attacks. And it was working. The witch was getting weaker every moment.

    With a shriek of desperate triumph, the witch <mark>teleported</mark> away, appearing on the other side of the hut. The smokey clouds moved to follow her, but she had some time before they caught up. <mark>Zereh</mark> dashed back toward <mark>Emrys</mark>. There was no sense in taking any more damage from his spell.

    The witch¡¯s dress was blackened and torn. Smoke was rising from her hair, and she coughed fitfully. ¡°I will end you,¡± she hissed. ¡°I will roast you on a spit and boil your blood into my potions. I will carve you up piece by piece and when I do, I will relish the sweet taste of vengeance and victory.¡± The witch scratched her long nails against her arm hard enough to draw blood. Instead of dripping down, the blood flowed out of her body into a sphere in front of her. The witch chanted quickly, her eyes darting to the approaching firestorm. She didn¡¯t have much time and she knew it.

    Green fog left her mouth as she spoke. It entered the sphere of blood like a ribbon, wrapping around and through until the orb was a mix of red and green.

    The witch¡¯s eyes lit up with a wicked, triumphant grin. ¡°Begone, mage.¡± She flicked the sphere, and it zipped toward <mark>Emrys</mark> almost too fast for the eye to see.

    ¡°No!¡± <mark>Zereh</mark> used a movement spell to dash toward the mage. She slammed into him, pushing him out of the way of the witch¡¯s spell just in time ¨C but too slow to save herself as well. The spell hit her in the shoulder at full force, sending her spinning into the dirt.

 Ch6 Vengeance

    ¡°<mark>Zereh</mark>!¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> crawled over to her. He had a healing spell ready and just enough <mark>mana</mark> to use it. It would wipe him out for the rest of the fight, but the witch was almost gone. Surely if he saved <mark>Zereh</mark>, she would be able to finish the battle from there.

    Her eyes swirled the same red/green as the witch¡¯s spell. ¡°Poison,¡± she gasped. ¡°Blood poison.¡±

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> hesitated. His healing spell was <mark>mana-expensive</mark> because it was the only healing spell he knew, not because it was powerful. If he used it on <mark>Zereh</mark> and it wasn¡¯t enough to counteract the blood poison, he would be dooming them both. Her health was draining dangerously fast, and he had to make a decision soon.

    The warrior gasped. ¡°Potion,¡± she coughed. ¡°Green. Right pouch.¡±

    Tied at her hip was a small bag. He tried to open it, but the strings wouldn¡¯t budge. The <mark>arcanist</mark> swore. Immortals had bags of holding, which could hold far more than a normal bag of that size should be able to, in some cases even having an infinite amount of storage. The trouble was, such items were a gift from the gods. Mortals were not allowed to use them. Even in an instance such as this, where access to the bag would save the immortal¡¯s life, he was unable to open it.

    And they were out of time. <mark>Zereh</mark> sighed her last breath. Her entire body shuddered once, and she disintegrated into golden light.

    ¡°It¡¯s just you and me now, my pet.¡± The witch cackled. She strode across the meadow, the fire storm inching towards her at the same speed as she walked away from it.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> whirled around to face her. ¡°You¡¯re done for,¡± he growled. He poured all of his <mark>mana</mark> into a fire lance spell. The witch was stronger than him, and if he didn¡¯t finish her off with this spell, she would kill him. ¡°I¡¯m going to stop you, and then I¡¯m going to rip the heart out of this dungeon. Not only am I about to kill you, but I will prevent you from ever coming back.¡±

    The witch froze. ¡°You what? Why?¡±

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> released his spell. The lance flew true, piercing the witch through the abdomen. The force of it pushed her back, far enough that the firestorm was able to retake its place above her. She screamed for one long second and at last fell lifeless to the ground.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> slumped to his knees. <mark>Mana</mark> exhaustion threatened to overtake him, but that was one thing, at least, he had a cure for. He pulled a small vial of blue potion from his pocket and drank it in a single swallow. It wasn¡¯t enough to restore his <mark>mana</mark> ¨C only meditation could do that ¨C but it would keep him on his feet until he had a chance to rest properly.

    Bright white light flashed through the room. Two chests appeared before him, one gold and one bronze. He wearily touched both of them. Even though the bronze chest was clearly his, with <mark>Zereh</mark> dead he was allowed to open both. In the bronze chest was a necklace with a miniature potion vial hanging from a thin metal chain.

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> wanted to laugh. He had been so concerned about giving up his loot, but his contribution had been so small that all he had won was a necklace that would slightly boost potion-making ability. Even trying to sell that artifact would be difficult.

    He opened the golden chest next. The chest glowed from within as it opened, and he could have sworn he heard an angelic chord for a moment. At first glance, the box looked to be full of red fog. When he put his hands into it, it solidified in the same way as the witch¡¯s green fog had solidified when she first appeared. He slowly pulled the fog from the chest, realizing as he did that <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> prize was a dress. It was made of that same ethereal material as the witch¡¯s gown, with the only difference being that hers was red.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> could only shake his head. He couldn¡¯t imagine the warrior in a gown, much less such a delicate one as that.

    When he felt strong enough to stand, he made his way past the chests to the witch¡¯s corpse. In death, she was cleared of all the damage he and <mark>Zereh</mark> had inflicted. Her dress was once again pure green, and the cuts on her body were nowhere to be found. She was shorter than he¡¯d thought.

    He sighed. Dungeon monsters were dungeon creations. The dungeon was able to pull inspiration from those that died within its walls, but ultimately the creatures were all puppets. It wouldn¡¯t do any good to feel guilty about murdering the witch outside her own home. She had been a fiction of the dungeon, and her only priority had been killing them.

    He just couldn¡¯t stop thinking about the look in her eyes when he¡¯d told her he was going to destroy the dungeon. In that moment, the facade of the evil witch had fallen away, and she had looked like a woman realizing her own mortality. How much of that was the dungeon, and how much was the witch¡¯s personality?

    He shook his head and pushed the thought away. It was too late to think like that; he had to finish what he¡¯d come for, before the dungeon could throw anything else at him. Every moment that he spent there alone was a danger, but he couldn¡¯t leave without the <mark>manaroot</mark>. Already he could feel the dungeon¡¯s magic trying to push him out. Once the boss was defeated, a mass teleportation spell was activated throughout the last room to send adventures back to the entrance. It wasn¡¯t hard to resist though, and <mark>Emrys</mark> wasn¡¯t done.

    The door of the hut swung open. Eerie, but it told him where he needed to go. He ducked inside and looked around.

    His eyes were drawn to a spot of color. A coat rack stood by the door, a hat on every hook. There was a green bowler hat decorated by a bright yellow daffodil, a red ball cap, and a purple beanie that looked to have been hand-knitted.

    The knot in the pit of his stomach tightened. That was¡­ not at all what he had expected. It would make more sense to find jars of pickled animal hearts or a string of toenails. A witch¡¯s house should be dark and creepy, full of disgusting <mark>knick-knacks</mark> that make your skin crawl.

    Instead, a fire crackled merrily in the hearth. A small cauldron, the perfect miniature of the one outside, hung from a wooden arm that could be moved to guide the cauldron on or off the fire. It was half full of a bubbling brown liquid.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> leaned forward out of morbid curiosity and took a sniff. He jerked back. It wasn¡¯t some foul potion as he suspected, but rather a hearty soup. The broth had boiled too long and was thicker than the witch had likely intended, but it would clearly have been the woman¡¯s dinner.

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> moved the cauldron off the heat. His movements were wooden, his thoughts stalled. There was no sense in letting it char.

    He stared into the soup for an interminable moment until a soft, inquisitive yowl jarred him back to his senses. His eyes jerked up. A black cat sat on the foot of what must have been the witch¡¯s bed. It was little more than several blankets piled on top of wooden slats, but it looked comfortable enough. The pillow, at least, seemed to be good quality.

    The cat stared at him with wide eyes that gleamed an otherworldly blue. Even the cat defied his presumptions; rather than stringy and hissing, the cat was round, well fed and fluffy. Its thick tail waved lazily from side to side.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°<mark>Mrow</mark>?¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. ¡°Focus. You came in here for a reason.¡± He eyed the cat. ¡°You¡¯re not going to fight me, are you?¡±

    The cat lifted up a hind leg in a casual display of incredible flexibility and began licking its <mark>butthole</mark>.

    ¡°¡­right. In that case, I just need to find the dungeon core.¡± It couldn¡¯t be that hard to find, he reasoned. The hut was the central part of the boss room, so it stood to reason that it would lead to the core. Not only would proximity to the core have strengthened the final boss, but there seemed to be an unwritten rule <mark>amongst</mark> dungeons that the core had to be hidden in plain sight. It wouldn¡¯t be sporting for it to be tucked away under a random bush in the forest.

    With that in mind, he flipped up the bed. Trap door under the bed would have been a classic option, so it was no real surprise to find unbroken wood flooring. It was never the first place he looked.

    He tried again beneath the dining table. It was apparent from outside the hut that the only direction the dungeon core could be, was downward. If there had been another room, it would have been apparent during the fight, far too obvious.

    But even when he traced his palm across the entirety of the floor, he could find no indication of a door.

    ¡°It must be something else,¡± he muttered.

    The cat glanced up at him briefly, then resumed cleaning its paws.

    ¡°How can you be so calm? I would have thought you¡¯d be more upset that your master is dead and her killer is rummaging through her things.¡± Blue eyes met his, until the <mark>arcanist</mark> shifted uncomfortably. ¡°Right. Probably happens all the time.¡±

    He scratched his head. If not a trap door, then what? He¡¯d had to teleport once, but that had been a dungeon with clear space-bending themes. What had he run into in the hut that had looked significant?

    The hats wouldn¡¯t lead him anywhere. There wasn¡¯t the slightest hint of a trap door. What else was there?

    He took a deep breath, and the scent of overcooked soup tickled his nose. The soup!

    The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, as it had the entire time he¡¯d been in the hut. Despite the fact that he had done nothing whatsoever to tend the fire, it was the same height and temperature as when he had first arrived.

    The fire mage held a palm out to the flame. He closed his eyes and inhaled, breathing in not just the smell of the soup but the fire itself. It didn¡¯t smell of <mark>woodsmoke</mark> or charcoal. A slow smile spread across his face. The fire smelled of pure <mark>mana</mark>. It was the sort of trick that could keep a fire going at a perfect consistency indefinitely. The only requirement was a steady <mark>mana</mark> supply. Some mages used <mark>mana</mark> batteries, swapping them out as necessary. Others built their homes along a <mark>ley</mark> line, using a similar principle as flour mills by a river.

    As for the witch, she had built her fireplace above the dungeon core.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> pulled the fire into himself. He absorbed the <mark>mana</mark> until he was full to bursting and then pushed back. There was no way he could overload the circuits, not if it was being powered by the heart of the dungeon itself, but he didn¡¯t have to. He just had to find the off switch.

    His <mark>mana</mark> brushed against the inner walls of the fireplace like an invisible limb until he found the runes to control the fire. He sent out a pulse of <mark>mana</mark>, and the fire sputtered out in a moment.

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> sighed. He would have given his left arm to bring the whole fireplace back to his mother¡¯s house, but without <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> bag of holding there was no way to make it happen. Even if he could carve out the stone inscribed with the control runes, he wouldn¡¯t have the consistent power necessary to use it or a fireplace tough enough to withstand <mark>mana-flames</mark>.

    With the firebox empty, he finally saw what he had been looking for. The hearth opened up into a stone chute that led, presumably, to the heart of the dungeon.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> didn¡¯t hesitate. He slipped his legs into the chute and pushed off from the hearth. He slid for only moments before tumbling into the dungeon core room.

    He dusted himself off and surveyed the room. It was the same size and dimensions as the witch¡¯s hut above, though it lacked the furnishings that made the upper level so inviting. The air was thick with <mark>mana</mark> in much the same way as the bog water had been. If he reached for it, he could feel the intention of the dungeon.

    Damp stone walls made a small space feel even smaller, and the only source of light was from the pedestal at the center of the room.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> closed in on it. Four blue flowers bloomed in a pile of green crystal shards. They were all different sizes. The largest was in the center, and the other three surrounded it. Each glowed with an internal light.

    ¡°Leave us,¡± the flowers whispered. ¡°Begone from here.¡±

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> gritted his teeth. White-hot rage filled him in a moment. ¡°Who are you to tell me to leave,¡± he growled, ¡°after inviting me so eagerly to stay.¡±

    ¡°Only a visit,¡± the flowers insisted. ¡°You have defeated the trials. Rest now, brave warrior, and return when you are able.¡±

    ¡°How many have you killed? How many lives had to be sacrificed for you to grow this many?¡± Even in the smallest dungeons, men and women lost their lives chasing riches. For a dungeon to grow to four floors, it must have fed well for many years.

    ¡°Only the willing,¡± the dungeon hissed. ¡°They come to me, as you did.¡±

    ¡°I came for one thing, and one thing only.¡± He pinched the stem of the first flower and tugged it free of the crystals. It had surprised him, the first time, how fragile the <mark>manaroot</mark> could be. The stems were thin. They snapped easily in a tight grip, and he had struggled more than once to dig the roots out of the sharp crystals that made up the flowerbed.

    There was a technique to it, and for a time he had carried with him a special set of gloves. Eventually he had learned to coat his hand in <mark>mana</mark>, making the gloves functionally obsolete. The <mark>mana</mark> glove was soft enough not to bend or snap the flowers while still being firm enough to protect his skin from the jagged edges of the flowerbed crystals.

    The dungeon shrieked at the loss of the flower. <mark>Emrys</mark> felt it in his bones, the harsh pressure of a dungeon in pain. It was the dungeon¡¯s <mark>mana</mark> that permeated the room, and every inch of it pulsed with outrage.

    ¡°One of these days,¡± the dungeon hissed, ¡°my brethren will destroy you. They will chew up your bones and spit out your likeness, and your body will be ripped apart by countless adventurers.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t doubt it.¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> dug his fingers around the base of the second flower and gave it a tug. The dungeon shrieked once more, this time loud enough that <mark>Emrys</mark> caught the echo of its agony. He winced but did not falter. He carried a small case for the sole purpose of gathering <mark>manaroot</mark> flowers, and he placed the second flower gently inside. ¡°But it won¡¯t be today, and it won¡¯t be you.¡±

    For his first couple of dungeons, <mark>Emrys</mark> had tried ignoring their insults and venomous threats, but it didn¡¯t make the process any easier. It was almost a distraction for them to banter, and if he took that away from them, the oppressive intent of the dungeon <mark>mana</mark> could be overpowering. They needed some form of relief as he carved away their life force, and it so happened that threats and verbal sparring were the least destructive option.

    The concussive force that echoed through the dungeon after he uprooted the third flower, was the worst he had ever seen. Just like when the secret tunnel had begun to close behind him, the earth shook with a deep rumble that resonated throughout the entire system of caves.

    ¡°You murderous human,¡± the dungeon spat. ¡°You think yourself so much better than me, but I fight those who are prepared and eager. I encourage and arm them as they test themselves against my challenges. But you come to me where I am weakest, where I am most vulnerable. And as you kill me, you think yourself noble.¡±

    <mark>Emrys¡¯s</mark> hand shook as he reached for the final flower. ¡°I don¡¯t answer to you,¡± he said. He grasped the last <mark>manaroot</mark> with too much strength, and it shattered in his hand. He let out a heavy breath, then dug through the crystals to pull the last shards away. Unlike the other flowers, there was no shriek of pain or cry of despair. There was only silence, the complete and total silence of a dead room.

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> was trembling. There was a part of him, a small part of him, that couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the dungeon was right. There was only one way to kill a dungeon, and this was it. And it was true that not everyone who entered a dungeon would perish. Often adventures would reach the final boss and emerge victorious. They would leave the dungeon to fight another day.

    But in his very first dungeon, where he had first learned magic, he had nearly lost his mentor to an ice bear. He had had nightmares for months after, of Elder Winter lying motionless on the floor beside the corpse of the ice dungeon boss. Even still, the nightmares returned on occasion.

    It wasn¡¯t that the dungeons were malicious. If anything, they were admittedly generous in how they treated their prey. But as long as they were lying in wait, they would draw people in. And the vast majority of them would be unprepared, ignorantly walking into their deaths.

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> closed his eyes and stopped resisting the teleportation spell. White light flashed around him and when it dispersed he opened his eyes to find himself outside of a perfectly normal looking cave. Gone were the thick stalks of heather and cat-tails. When he looked in, he no longer saw the deep pools littered with the bones of adventures. Even the mud and gunk that had seeped into his clothes had vanished without a trace.

    The dungeon was gone.

 Ch7 Delivery

    The walk back into town was long enough for <mark>Emrys</mark> to clear his head. If anything, he had regained the spring in his step. Not only had he survived the toughest dungeon he had ever seen, he had walked away with three <mark>mana</mark> roots and a handful of shards. On top of that, he had gained a ring that would increase his affinity with water and earth magic. It would take some time before he could stop associating those <mark>mana</mark> classes with the mud and sludge of the bog, but if his experiences had taught him anything it was that he should expand his repertoire past fire magic.

    All in all, it was a very good haul for a day¡¯s work.

    ¡°<mark>Emrys</mark>! You survived!¡± Julia waved down at him from the wall tower.

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> waved back. Once upon a time, they had stood watch on the tower together, daydreaming about what it would be like to have magic. The goddess of prophecy had chosen him and he had found his path to becoming a fire mage. He had learned that the <mark>manaroot</mark> could be used to gain magical ability, for those without the good fortune to be born with it. Julia had chosen to stay as she was. If there was going to be an adventure, she¡¯d said, it could just as well come to her and not the other way around.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> pulled open the gate. Back in those days, the wooden door had felt heavy and ungainly in his arms. He shook his head. Times changed.

    ¡°What happened to your team?¡± Julia asked. She was rushing down the stairs, taking them two at a time. ¡°Let me get a look at you. You¡¯re not hurt are you?¡±

    ¡°Just a little foot sore,¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> said. ¡°You¡¯d think I would be used to the hike by now.¡±

    ¡°Well it keeps getting longer, doesn¡¯t it? If you keep this up, you¡¯ll have me out of a job!¡± The guard slapped her friend on the shoulder.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> laughed. Julia had been making the same joke ever since <mark>Emrys</mark> had announced his intention to destroy the dungeons. The town sat on the edge of a ravine that marked the border between the kingdom and their neighbor. Once every several years, the dungeons would overflow and waves of monsters would attack the town.

    ¡°Actually,¡± he said, ¡°my teammates left me.¡±

    Julia stiffened, abruptly serious. ¡°What do you mean they left you?¡± She led <mark>Emrys</mark> inside the watchtower. There was a room at the base of it meant for lounging, and the <mark>arcanist</mark> wasted no time in setting down his bags and putting up his feet. He gratefully accepted a cup of coffee. .

    ¡°Well, they were immortals weren¡¯t they? We made it all the way to the final floor, and they decided to ¡®call it a night.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Call it a night?¡± Julia scoffed. ¡°What does that even mean?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I said! At first I thought they meant they wanted to camp for the night in the third floor boss room. Weird, but doable, you know? But no. They were completely done for the day, and they said they¡¯ll be back tomorrow, or at least tomorrow their time, to finish out the dungeon.¡±

    Julia gaped. ¡°That could be days.¡±

    ¡°Right! So anyway, I had to finish out the dungeon on my own.¡± The <mark>arcanist</mark> rose to his feet. ¡°I really should be going, anyway. You haven¡¯t seen Sven around, have you?¡±

    ¡°Not since you left,¡± she said. A shadow crossed her face. ¡°I¡¯m starting to worry, you know? They keep talking about a necromancer roaming the area. And I know it¡¯s just rumors at this point, but he¡¯s never been away this long.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> raised an eyebrow. ¡°Hasn¡¯t he? He used to sneak off to visit Stephanie every chance he got, and towards the end he was making those visits last as long as possible.¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°It¡¯s different and you know it. He hasn¡¯t been the same since her funeral.¡±

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> threw back the rest of his coffee and placed the mug on the table. ¡°It¡¯s good seeing you Julia. I¡¯m glad it was you on the walls tonight.¡±

    The guard sighed but didn¡¯t push the issue. ¡°How did you survive? You told me you were going to a tier four dungeon, I can¡¯t imagine you had an easy time of it after those immortals left you.¡±

    <mark>Emrys¡¯s</mark> blood boiled at the mention of Jefferson and <mark>Merv</mark>. He had trusted them with his life, and they had thrown that trust back in his face.

    ¡°I found someone else. Another immortal, believe it or not. She must have entered the dungeon sometime after us. She was trying to do a solo run, but she agreed to party with me so long as I shared my portion of the loot.¡±

    Julia frowned. ¡°I think I remember her leaving town. I didn¡¯t see her come back either, though.¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t make it. We were fighting the final boss, and she¡­ Well, she sacrificed herself to save me.¡±

    Julia raised an eyebrow. ¡°I thought you said she was an immortal.¡±

    ¡°I did.¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> laughed, still somewhat in disbelief. ¡°She was. Is. Dissolved into golden light and everything. I didn¡¯t even have time to try and save her.¡± He frowned at the memory. ¡°Not that I could have, after the hit she took. I¡¯ve been thinking I should try and learn a few more healing spells. And some shadow magic. And maybe a water spell or two.¡±

    Julia looked at him like he¡¯d grown another head. ¡°Who are you, and what have you done with <mark>Emrys</mark>?¡±

    ¡°I know right?¡± He scratched the back of his head. ¡°That dungeon really did a number on me, though. I was so out of my depth, and there were so many moments where even a small <mark>cantrip</mark> from another school of magic could have made a world of difference. And there are some things that are just too valuable to pass on, like the rogue I was with? He was able to kill monsters in one blow just by sneaking up on them. If I could do that, I could really start making my way down the ravine.¡±

    ¡°<mark>Hm</mark>.¡± Julia looked troubled. ¡°Don¡¯t rush into anything. I don¡¯t know much about magic, but I don¡¯t think you¡¯d want to stretch yourself too thin. I wouldn¡¯t want you to put that much work into something only to find out it was setting you back.¡±

    The <mark>arcanist</mark> nodded. He¡¯d had the same thoughts, but he worried she only felt that way because she¡¯d heard it from him. And he didn¡¯t actually know what he was talking about, he¡¯d just been trying to avoid learning completely new magic and it had sounded like a reasonable enough excuse at the time.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll think about it. For now, I need to find <mark>Zereh</mark>. She only agreed to get me through the dungeon if I gave her my share of the loot.¡±

    ¡°Get out of here then. I¡¯ll see you on your next run, and hey, let me know if you hear from Sven, okay? I know I shouldn¡¯t worry so much, but I have a bad feeling.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> left the tower behind and headed into town center. That was typically where immortals appeared, whether it was through teleportation or after death.

    As a result, the town center was ringed by market street, a series of shops and stalls all pressed up against each other. The locals tended to stay away from the overpriced goods, but immortals rarely looked further than the conveniently located merchants.

    Unfortunately, the street was absolutely swarming with adventurers. His party connection to <mark>Zereh</mark> told him that she was close by, but it wasn¡¯t specific enough for him to find her <mark>amongst</mark> the crowd.

    The weight of her dungeon rewards hung heavy in his pack. He dug through his pockets until he found a small matchbook. It had been a gift from Sven so he tried not to use it frivolously, but the situation definitely called for it. He had already used three of the twenty matches, so it was with only a moment¡¯s hesitation that he removed the fourth and struck it.

    The match flared to life. The <mark>arcanist</mark> muttered a quick spell and blew it out. A thin trail of black smoke rose from the match, but instead of dissipating into the air it trailed outward about two feet. Unlike a normal match, it wasn¡¯t the fire that burned it down but the smoke. For as long as the match burned, it would point toward its target. In this case, that meant <mark>Zereh</mark>.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> kept the match held in front of him as he followed the smoke. He walked the outskirts of market street and kept away from the densest part of the crowds. His tracking spell was admittedly not the easiest to follow, and it was even worse at night, but it was effective.

    To his surprise, he didn¡¯t find her at any of the shops. She was further out, at the training hall. It was a large dirt courtyard beside the adventurer¡¯s guild hall. He had heard that larger cities often had elaborate obstacle courses in their training halls, but <mark>Westover</mark> wasn¡¯t that fancy. It was little more than a set of training dummies. He was proud to say, though, that a few of the dummies had recently been upgraded to fire off some basic magic attacks.

    By the smell of it, <mark>Zereh</mark> was practicing against lightning magic. There was a tang of ozone in the air that irritated <mark>Emrys¡¯s</mark> nose.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to find you here,¡± he said when the warrior paused to catch breath.

    She whirled around, her swords in her hands in an instant.

 Ch8 Party Time

    ¡°Whoa,¡± he said. ¡°Just me.¡±

    <mark>Zereh</mark> sheathed her weapons in one smooth motion. ¡°Took you long enough.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> grinned. ¡°It¡¯s a long walk. But I brought presents.¡± He could have sworn the tight-lipped warrior nearly smiled at that.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see them, then.¡± She followed him to a bench on the side of the courtyard.

    ¡°First and foremost,¡± he said, ¡°the necklace of slightly improved potion making.¡± He produced the necklace from the sleeve of his robe with an exaggerated flourish.

    She brought the necklace close to her face. The full force of her focus was on the item. The warrior grunted and pocketed the necklace. ¡°That one was yours, then?¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> rolled his eyes. ¡°Yes. Yours looks much more impressive, though I admit I didn¡¯t examine it too carefully while I was in the dungeon. I think it¡¯s a dress.¡± He pulled the fabric out of his bag and held it up to the light. The material was light and so silky that it felt almost wet in his hands.

    <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> expression was inscrutable. ¡°This is what dropped for me? You¡¯re sure?¡±

    ¡°Yes. Gold chest and everything. It must be powerful, but all I get are question marks when I look at it too hard. I was thinking it might be some kind of blood magic artifact, since one of the last attacks the witch used was that blood poison ball.¡±

    The warrior snatched it away from him and shoved it unceremoniously into her bag. ¡°What were you doing in a dungeon of that level anyway? Even with party members, you should have known it would be too much for you.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I admit that wasn¡¯t a great showing for me, but I¡¯m tougher than you think. I¡¯ve been learning fire magic since I was twelve years old, so I know a thing or two.¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> crossed his arms. Her words stung more than he wanted to admit, because of course he¡¯d been saying the same thing to himself ever since Jefferson and <mark>Merv</mark> had disappeared. ¡°Anyway, you have your loot so I¡¯d have thought you¡¯d be happy right now.¡±

    The warrior scowled. ¡°I died,¡± she said simply. ¡°It¡¯s not pleasant, and it¡¯s not easy to bounce back from.¡±

    ¡°Ah, right. Thank you for that. I wouldn¡¯t have expected you to¡­ Anyway, thank you.¡±

    She looked away. ¡°Just stick to a dungeon you can handle, next time.¡±

    ¡°I will.¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> hesitated. ¡°Listen, there¡¯s something else I want you to have. For saving my life.¡± He took one of the <mark>mana</mark> roots out of his pouch and held it out to her.

    Her eyes widened. ¡°Where did you get that?¡±

    ¡°Look, it¡¯s not something I would advertise, or anything.¡± He shuffled uncomfortably. ¡°It¡¯s just because you saved my life and all. I thought I should give you something extra.¡±

    ¡°Do you know what this is? Do you know how valuable this is?¡±

    At that, the <mark>arcanist</mark> couldn¡¯t help but roll his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s a lot less valuable to me than my life, is what it is. I¡¯m saying thank you, that¡¯s all.¡±

    Her brown eyes searched his, as she reassessed him. She nodded. ¡°Well, then. You¡¯re welcome.¡±

    The finality in her tone pulled him up short, and <mark>Emrys</mark> realized that he wasn¡¯t ready to say goodbye. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you might want to stay in the same party for a while longer? We could run another dungeon, maybe one that¡¯s a little easier. I¡¯m pretty handy to have around in the ice dungeons, you know.¡±

    She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think that would be a good idea. I don¡¯t travel with a party.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that¡¯s any of your business, actually. Have a good night. I do wish you luck on your travels.¡± She spun on her heel and returned to the training dummy with the lightning breath. As she walked away <mark>Emrys</mark> felt the party disband, and his connection to the woman dissolved.

    He let out a heavy breath. He shoved down the part of him that wanted to follow her around like a puppy. She was in a league all her own, but he still had his dignity.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> had never considered himself to be a charismatic person, but it had also never been a problem. His friends and family knew him well enough that he didn¡¯t need to charm them, and when he was approached by immortals it was because they wanted something from him. The onus of being charming was on the solicitors.

    So he found himself at a loss when he did not want to leave <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> side. There was nothing she needed from him, and he had shown himself to be less than beneficial to her. It was entirely possible that had she not been distracted by keeping him alive during the final boss fight, she would not have died and suffered the penalties of death that her kind faced.

    After all she had done for him already, <mark>Emrys</mark> could hardly ask her for more. And if he had had a chance to be charming sooner, he had certainly missed it.

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    With a sigh, the mage left the training hall. He felt the same feeling of heavy loss he had felt when he deviated from the destiny the goddess of prophecy had laid out for him, like there had been a fork in the road and in choosing one path he lost the other forever.

    If there was one person who would understand him, it was Sven. They had been friends since long before <mark>Emrys</mark> had developed his magic, and he had been <mark>Emrys¡¯s</mark> sole confidant after his encounter with the goddess.

    ¡°Oh! <mark>Emrys</mark>, thank goodness I found you.¡± An older woman came barreling around the corner. Her hair was a frizzy mess and she was wringing her hands like she might get answers out of them.

    ¡°Mrs. <mark>Thurgood</mark>?¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> recognized Sven¡¯s mother, but he had never seen her outside of her house.

    ¡°<mark>Emrys</mark>, have you seen Sven?¡±

    Ice ran down his spine at the question. ¡°I haven¡¯t, I¡¯ve been in a dungeon for the last couple of days. You haven¡¯t seen him? I was just talking with Julia, she hasn¡¯t seen him in a while either.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t know why your mother lets you put yourself in danger like that,¡± she muttered. Her face darkened for a moment and then resolved back into worry. ¡°Sven left town a few days ago, but he didn¡¯t take any of his things and he didn¡¯t tell Dolores he wouldn¡¯t be on the tower. I¡¯m worried he went off and got taken by the necromancer or some such.¡± She looked about ready to cry. ¡°He¡¯s been doing that since the funeral, you know, just going for walks outside the walls. I keep telling him it¡¯s dangerous but he doesn¡¯t listen.¡±

    ¡°There, there, Mrs. <mark>Thurgood</mark>. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s nothing. I¡¯ll tell you what, I¡¯ll run down to the village myself and check in with Stephanie¡¯s parents. If they haven¡¯t seen him, then we¡¯ll worry.¡±

    She looked at him as though he¡¯d said he would jump off a cliff. ¡°So I can lose both of you? Absolutely not! I¡¯ll send an adventurer.¡±

    That struck a nerve. ¡°Am I not an adventurer? Have I not cleared dungeons on my own?¡±

    ¡°Oh dear, you know it isn¡¯t that. It¡¯s just that¡­I wouldn¡¯t want to lose you. But the adventurers¡­well, you know how they are.¡±

    Immortal, she didn¡¯t say. Disposable. For some reason the immortals didn¡¯t like to be reminded of their invincibility, so it was considered more polite to refer to them as adventures. Which meant that if he wanted to consider himself an adventure, he needed another word for it. It was enough to make a man scream.

    But he pushed that feeling down. Sven¡¯s safety was more important than any title, no matter how hard earned. And on the off chance his friend really was in danger of the necromancer, it would be more prudent to send an immortal.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said. ¡°And I know just the one to ask.¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> led the woman into the training hall where <mark>Zereh</mark> was still hacking away at the training dummies. By the look of it, she was practicing a dashing move where she ran across the room, weaving through the dummies and slashing each one as she passed.

    She moved so quickly she seemed to blur, and he wouldn¡¯t have caught her strikes if not for the red lines that appeared on the dummies where they were struck.

    ¡°Oh wow. She¡¯s quite talented isn¡¯t she?¡±

    ¡°Yes, and you can trust her. I¡¯ve worked with her once before, and when she says she¡¯ll do something she¡¯ll see it through.¡±

    ¡°Of course! She is an adventurer after all.¡± Mrs. <mark>Thurgood</mark> patted his hand and settled in by the door to wait until <mark>Zereh</mark> was finished. The warrior barely paused, flitting from one end of the room to the next, and back again.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> pursed his lips. It was typical of his parents¡¯ generation to be blind to the immortals¡¯ flaws. They were patient and gracious to a fault, and too often they were taken advantage of. An immortal would promise to return with twenty wolf pelts by the end of the week and not actually return until the next summer. In the same way, Sven¡¯s mother was content to wait on the sidelines until <mark>Zereh</mark> approached her, no matter that if Sven were truly in danger, that danger was increasing with every moment.

    The mage¡¯s anxiety built into frustration that worsened every time the warrior passed without so much as a glance in their direction. He nearly called out to her but each time he would feel the soft pressure of Mrs. <mark>Thurgood¡¯s</mark> hand on his arm, and she would gently shake her head.

    So he bit his tongue, and over time his frustration dissolved into awe. <mark>Zereh</mark> appeared to never tire. She never slowed, never rested, yet her form remained just as flawless and graceful as when she started.

    Were all immortals capable of this, or was she a cut above? He wondered. He had only visited the training hall once or twice before and never stayed for long. But if this was the sort of tireless training they could endure, perhaps it was warranted that adventurer had become synonymous with immortal.

    It wasn¡¯t until others began trickling into the hall to do training of their own that <mark>Zereh</mark> finally approached. A flicker of annoyance crossed her face when she looked at him, but she carefully schooled her features into a neutral expression when she turned to Mrs. <mark>Thurgood</mark>.

    ¡°What can I help you with, ma¡¯am?¡± she asked.

    The woman¡¯s patient countenance gave way immediately to worry. ¡°It¡¯s my son, you see. He¡¯s been missing for a few days now, and I fear he¡¯s been taken by the necromancer. Won¡¯t you find out what¡¯s happened to him?¡±

    ¡°Tell me more about this necromancer,¡± said <mark>Zereh</mark>, her face inscrutable.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know too much, except there¡¯s been rumors about <mark>undead</mark> cows and the like. From the sound of it, he started small and has been practicing. A few folks have gone missing in the woods, and people are saying they¡¯ve been taken by the necromancer to be experimented on.¡±

    ¡°Where should I start looking for him?¡±

    ¡°We think he last went to the eastern village, Sonora. Start there, and you should be able to find someone who has seen him.¡±

    The warrior nodded thoughtfully.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to go with you!¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> blurted out. ¡°Sven is my best friend, and I can¡¯t just stand back and do nothing.¡±

    <mark>Zereh</mark> met his earnest gaze with a mixture of surprise and irritation, like she had forgotten he was there.

    ¡°I can handle this quest myself,¡± she said coolly. ¡°I accept this¨C¡±

    ¡°Wait, Mrs. <mark>Thurgood</mark>. Please, if I can¡¯t go with her I will go by myself, and like you said I may not make it back.¡±

    Sven¡¯s mother looked between the two of them, panic-stricken. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be able to help. Since I know most of Sven¡¯s regular haunts we¡¯ll find him faster together. Besides, we¡¯ll have a better chance against the necromancer as a party. Please.¡±

    The woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she let it out, her eyes opened with clear determination.

    ¡°You can¡¯t do this alone. Come back when your party has two or more people.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> grinned.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> gaped. She looked at the mage like it was her first time seeing him. ¡°How did you do that?¡±

    ¡°Take me with you,¡± he said. ¡°I won¡¯t get in the way, and like I said I might be able to help you find him sooner.¡±

    She stared at him for a long moment. The full force of her gaze was enough to make his hands shake, but he clenched his fists and did not look away .

    It was impossible to tell what she¡¯d been looking for, but she must have found it. She nodded once.

    ¡°Fine. Join my party.¡±

 Ch9 Shopping

    ¡°You really don¡¯t have to follow me. I could just meet you at the east gate when I¡¯m ready.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> trailed after <mark>Zereh</mark>. She cleared a path through the crowded street through sheer force of will, and he had to stay close enough to follow in her wake.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mind. We should hurry, don¡¯t you think? How many stops do you need to make?¡± When they left the training hall he expected they would go to Sonora immediately, but the warrior had instead led him back to Market Street.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> ignored his question. ¡°Here we are. Glenn!¡±

    They stopped in front of an alchemist¡¯s stall. Small vials lay in rows across the table, organized by color. The alchemist himself was a tall spindly man in a pinstriped suit. His shoulder length hair was dyed a deep purple with pink and blue highlights. When he saw <mark>Zereh</mark>, he beamed.

    ¡°The warrior returns! My dear, don¡¯t tell me you need to replenish your stock already?¡± He made a show of looking her over for injuries.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> grimaced. ¡°That last dungeon hit a little harder than I expected. I need a few more poison neutralizers, five health potions, and holy water if you have it. Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s not all for me.¡± She jutted a thumb at <mark>Emrys</mark> standing impatiently behind her. ¡°I¡¯m taking care of this one for a while.¡±

    Glenn touched the side of his nose. ¡°Say no more, I¡¯ve got just the thing.¡± From under the table he pulled a cherry wood box of potions. Inside were five health potions, five <mark>mana</mark> potions, five general antidotes, and two bottles of holy water.

    ¡°It¡¯s a little more than what you¡¯re asking for, but your ward looks to be a magic user. It¡¯s twenty-five gold for the set, and ten gold for the holy water.¡±

    ¡°Make it thirty total and you¡¯ve got yourself a deal.¡±

    Glenn put a hand to his heart, looking pained. ¡°For you, I can do that. Don¡¯t tell anyone though.¡±

    <mark>Zereh</mark> paid and slid the potion crate into her bag. ¡°Thanks Glenn, it¡¯s always good to see you. I¡¯d stay and chat but someone is in a hurry.¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> was tugging at her sleeve.

    ¡°That was rude,¡± she said once they were far enough away to not be overheard.

    ¡°What¡¯s rude is how badly he was overcharging you,¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> hissed. ¡°Thirty gold? Those potions should have been no more than twenty, even with the holy water.¡±

    <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> expression hardened. ¡°I buy from Glenn because I like him and because he looks out for me. I wouldn¡¯t have had any antidotes in that last dungeon if not for him, nor would I have thought to purchase any <mark>mana</mark> potions today. Glenn may overcharge for his potions, but he more than makes up for it with shrewd advice.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> grimaced. ¡°I apologize. I should have expected you¡¯d know what you were doing. I only thought, most <mark>imm</mark>- adventurers don¡¯t realize that Market Street prices are inflated for those just passing through. I didn¡¯t want you to be taken advantage of.¡±

    The warrior considered him for a long moment. ¡°Our next stop is the blacksmith, to repair and upgrade my armor. Why don¡¯t you lead me to your recommendation?¡±

    The mage¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°My¡­Yes, of course! This way.¡± Back when he stood guard duty with Sven, they were required to wear basic armor. Cecile was the local blacksmith and while she worked predominantly on basic plate armor, she had trained under the best blacksmiths in the kingdom before settling down in <mark>Westover</mark>, and when she put her mind to it she was capable of truly magnificent work.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> led <mark>Zereh</mark> out of Market Street and deeper into the town. There wasn¡¯t a mortal equivalent to the long line of shops. Rather, the local shops were scattered throughout the town, usually in a building that neighbored the artisan¡¯s home.

    It wasn¡¯t long before they arrived at Cecile¡¯s smithy. She was already hard at work, hammering the dents out of a breastplate. The blacksmith was a short, heavy set woman with cropped black hair. He was pretty certain that the only people with larger muscles than her were immortals.

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    The rhythmic hammering stopped and Cecile looked up at the new arrivals.

    ¡°Cecile, it¡¯s good to see you again. I¡¯d like to introduce you to¨C¡±

    ¡°<mark>Zereh</mark>!¡± The squat woman threw down her hammer and ran to greet the warrior. She engulfed <mark>Zereh</mark> in a bear hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning in a circle before releasing her. ¡°What have you done, what are you wearing? I know I gave you something better than that last time you were here.¡±

    ¡°It was a dungeon full of mud,¡± <mark>Zereh</mark> pouted.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> stared. He was finally seeing an emotion from <mark>Zereh</mark> that wasn¡¯t anger or irritation, and she was pouting. She had leaned down far enough to lay her head on Cecile¡¯s shoulder, and the blacksmith was patting her consolingly.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> cleared his throat. ¡°We are in a bit of a hurry,¡± he reminded her.

    If looks could kill, <mark>Zereh</mark> would have skewered him on the spot.

    ¡°Oh! <mark>Emrys</mark>, how are you? Goodness, I haven¡¯t seen you since¡­ Well, since before Elder Winter took you under his wing.¡± She squinted at him and slapped his shoulder. ¡°I guess you magic types still don¡¯t care for armor much, huh?¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> rubbed his arm. ¡°That might be worth revisiting,¡± he muttered. ¡°How do you two know each other?¡±

    <mark>Zereh</mark> smirked. ¡°I do my research. Cecile is the best in the business.¡± The two women shared a smile. <mark>Zereh</mark> unloaded a set of armor from her bag of holding, and even <mark>Emrys</mark> could tell it was badly damaged.

    ¡°I know it¡¯s a lot to ask, but could you take care of this right away? Mr. Impatient here has been hounding me to get moving on our party quest.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just wait at the East gate until she¡¯s ready?¡± asked Cecile.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I said!¡± <mark>Zereh</mark> exclaimed.

    The two women shared a look, and <mark>Emrys</mark> began to wonder if he was the crazy one.

    ¡°We think Sven¡¯s been taken by the necromancer.¡±

    The blacksmith gasped. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that. Give me a moment, I¡¯ll make it a rush job.¡±

    Cecile disappeared back into the smithy with the armor. Seconds later they could hear the rhythmic clanking of a hammer on metal.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> gave <mark>Emrys</mark> a look. ¡°Has anyone ever told you you¡¯re a buzzkill?¡±

    ¡°Has anyone ever told you to get your priorities straight?¡± he snapped.

    She looked amused at his outburst. ¡°Frequently. But can you at least admit I know my way around town?¡± She gestured at the smithy.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> gave her a reluctant nod. ¡°You certainly do.¡±

    ¡°So. Given that I¡¯m a stronger adventurer than you, I¡¯ve saved your life, and I seem to know what I¡¯m doing after all, do you think maybe there¡¯s a reason I¡¯m doing all this prep work instead of running off half-cocked?¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> hung his head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯ve been disrespectful, and you don¡¯t deserve that. Least of all from me. I¡¯m just worried. Sven has always been there for me, and if he¡¯s in trouble it¡¯s because I went into that dungeon and left him behind.¡±

    <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> eyes softened. ¡°Does he normally go with you?¡±

    ¡°No¡­ But if I¡¯d stayed back, I could have protected him. He only ever learned life magic. I always told him that with his guard experience he would make a great healer in a dungeon, but he never would. Said dungeons gave him the creeps.¡± The <mark>arcanist</mark> ran a hand through his hair. ¡°I think he just saw too many people who didn¡¯t make it back, or who came back injured. You watch them when you¡¯re on the tower, you know? You think about who went out, and who came back.¡±

    ¡°And what about you?¡± <mark>Zereh</mark> asked. Her eyes were thoughtful and compassionate. ¡°You were on the same tower, so why do you go into dungeons?¡±

    A small fireball came to life in <mark>Emrys¡¯s</mark> palm, flickering on and off. He didn¡¯t even realize he was doing it. ¡°Have you ever talked to a dungeon?¡±

    <mark>Zereh</mark> shook her head. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that was possible.¡±

    ¡°It is if you can find the dungeon core. They¡¯re always hidden in the boss room of the final floor. The only thing a dungeon wants is to get bigger, and the only way to do that is to kill. That¡¯s why they make their entrances so enticing and give rewards like breadcrumbs as you make your way through. The more people try, the more will fail, and the dungeon can feed on their <mark>mana</mark>.¡± The fireball flashed white. ¡°The only way to stop a dungeon from killing anyone else is to destroy it. Find the dungeon core and rip out its roots.¡±

    He looked back at <mark>Zereh</mark>, and she flinched at the intensity of his gaze. ¡°I do dungeons for the same reason that Sven won¡¯t. I¡¯ve seen too many people lured in by the thought of riches, only never to return.¡±

    <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> eyes widened. ¡°You¡¯re the reason the dungeons are disappearing.¡±

    ¡°Yes. And I¡¯ll keep doing it until I¡¯ve cleared the entire ravine. It¡¯ll take most of my life, if not all of it.¡± He shook his head and let the fireball wink out. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t leave it for anything, except Sven. He¡¯s like a brother to me. Aside from my mom, he¡¯s the only family I ever had.¡±

    <mark>Zereh</mark> forced a smile. ¡°I¡¯ve never felt that passionate about anything in my entire life.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> raised an eyebrow. ¡°I don¡¯t believe that for a second, not after seeing you in the training hall.¡±

    Before <mark>Zereh</mark> could think of a response to that, they were interrupted by a loud clattering that could only be several pieces of armor crashing to the ground, closely followed by a string of creative expletives. Cecile came hopping out of the smithy, shaking a helmet off her foot. Her arms were full of <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> armor, which she dumped unceremoniously on a workbench.

    ¡°All done!¡± she said. ¡°Armor is repaired, gems are cleaned and recharged. Keep in mind you still have five open gem sockets, so let me know when you¡¯re ready to fill those.¡±

 Ch10 Out of Control

    ¡°<mark>Cece</mark>, you¡¯re a miracle worker.¡± <mark>Zereh</mark> embraced the blacksmith and replaced the mid-tier armor she was wearing with what was obviously her main set. The newly polished armor was a matching set of black steel with lilac accents.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> couldn¡¯t help but stare as she tested the flexibility of the suit.

    ¡°How much do I owe you?¡± <mark>Zereh</mark> asked.

    ¡°For the damages, and considering it was a rush order, that¡¯ll be fifty gold.¡±

    ¡°Done.¡± Without hesitation, <mark>Zereh</mark> handed over more money than <mark>Emrys</mark> had ever seen in his entire life. They said their goodbyes and Cecile went back to the breastplate she¡¯d abandoned when they arrived.

    ¡°Are you ready to go now?¡±

    ¡°Just one more stop.¡± The warrior raised a sardonic eyebrow. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, this one is part of the investigation. Can you take me to Sven¡¯s house?¡±

    ¡°His house? Yes, it¡¯s not far from here.¡± He led <mark>Zereh</mark> through the winding alleys, though she refused to explain what she thought she would find there.

    They found Mrs. <mark>Thurgood</mark> standing outside the front door.

    ¡°Oh good,¡± she said. ¡°I was hoping to see you again before you left.¡±

    ¡°I would like to see Sven¡¯s room, if that¡¯s okay,¡± said <mark>Zereh</mark>.

    ¡°Yes, I think you should.¡± She led the two into the house. <mark>Emrys</mark> had been there before, but it felt different to be there without Sven. Like he was trespassing.

    ¡°I came back here to clean his room after I spoke with you and I found this. I didn¡¯t know what to make of it, so¡­ Well, you had best see for yourself.¡± She waved them inside.

    Sven¡¯s room looked just as <mark>Emrys</mark> remembered it. A bed was pushed up against the far wall, sheets askew. Beside it was the desk they had hammered together when they were boys, covered in books, sketches, and loose notes.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> flipped through a few of the pages and let out a low whistle. ¡°All he¡¯s missing is some red yarn and a cork board,¡± she quipped. <mark>Emrys</mark> flashed her a puzzled glance, and she rolled her eyes. ¡°Never mind. Who¡¯s Stephanie?¡±

    ¡°She was his girlfriend. Sven was planning to ask her to marry him, but then¡­¡±

    ¡°She died?¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> nodded. ¡°There was an accident at the Solstice festival. She didn¡¯t make it. Sven took it pretty hard, and he hasn¡¯t been the same since.¡±

    ¡°It looks like he was investigating her death. There¡¯s notes here on everyone he thought was involved.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense. It was just an accident. She was walking home after the festival and got caught in a stampede. The cows got spooked by the fireworks.¡±

    <mark>Zereh</mark> raised her head. ¡°She was trampled by cows? Seriously?¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> grimaced. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t put it quite like that.¡±

    ¡°Looks like he didn¡¯t believe it was an accident, or at least he wanted a more serious punishment for those involved.¡± She handed <mark>Emrys</mark> a stack of parchment notes. Sven had interviewed a number of villagers in Sonora in an effort to learn what led to Stephanie¡¯s death. Most of them didn¡¯t know anything, having been too involved in the revelry.

    What he¡¯d been able to determine, though, was that she must have left the festival early since she was already in the field by the time the fireworks went off. There were a few pages about why she¡¯d gone to the field in the first place. It wasn¡¯t anywhere near her house, and was in the opposite direction.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> flipped through the notes with a growing feeling of guilt. He¡¯d known Sven was hurting, but he¡¯d had no idea his best friend was spiraling so far out of control. The last time they had talked, he had noticed Sven was distracted and more serious, and the man had been taking more trips to Sonora, but <mark>Emrys</mark> had assumed he just needed time to work through his grief.

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    ¡°He was suffering so much more than I realized,¡± <mark>Emrys</mark> murmured. The notes devolved from neat lines of text to deranged scribbles and sketches, like a written record of his descent into madness. In hindsight, it made sense that a life mage who focused on healing would be devastated by the death of someone close to him.

    <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> eyes were troubled. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± she said. ¡°He could have asked for help, but he didn¡¯t. He made sure you wouldn¡¯t worry too much.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> handed the notes back. ¡°Let¡¯s just find him. Everything we¡¯ve found still points to him being in Sonora, even if it¡¯s for a different reason than we thought.¡±

    ¡°Have you ever seen these symbols before?¡± <mark>Zereh</mark> passed him another sheet. This one was only half a page, ripped at the edges. It was covered in the same symbol sequence over and over, the lines progressing from hesitant scribbles to clean images.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> snatched it from her grasp. ¡°Where did you find this?¡±

    She raised an eyebrow and gestured at the desk. ¡°Same place as everything else.¡±

    ¡°This is rune magic. Anyone can use it, and you can access any element, but it¡¯s incredibly challenging to use. You have to draw the runes perfectly and gather all the right material in exactly the right ratios. It¡¯s a bastardized form of magic that nobody uses because it¡¯s terrible.¡±

    ¡°I think we found someone who uses it.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> sighed. ¡°We can ask him about it when we find him. Is there anything else we need to do here, or can we go?¡±

    ¡°No, I think we¡¯ve¨C.¡± <mark>Zereh</mark> cut off. <mark>Emrys</mark> followed her gaze but as far as he could tell she was frozen staring at the wall .

    ¡°<mark>Zereh</mark>?¡± He waved a hand in front of her face. ¡°You okay?¡±

    She didn¡¯t so much as blink. <mark>Emrys</mark> edged away from her. She was still breathing, but aside from that she was eerily motionless. He was about to call Mrs. <mark>Thurgood</mark> for help when <mark>Zereh</mark> groaned and shook her head.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to have to go later. Let¡¯s say, first thing tomorrow.¡±

    Concern transformed to panic in an instant. <mark>Emrys</mark> was back in the dungeon with Jefferson and <mark>Merv</mark> when they told him they were leaving him behind. The immortals were leaving him behind, leaving him to die.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back as soon as I can, okay? I promise.¡± She pressed his hand between hers and looked him in the eyes. ¡°Okay? First thing tomorrow.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> deflated at her touch. At that moment, he would have agreed to anything.

    ¡°What, um. What should I do while you¡¯re gone?¡±

    ¡°See if you can learn anything about those ruins Sven was practicing. If we know what those are, we might be able to figure out where he went and why.¡±

    He nodded once, not trusting himself to speak. A moment later, she was gone.

    There was something about <mark>Zereh</mark> that made him want to trust her, but at the same time he feared she would turn out to be just as unreliable as the rest of her kind. It would be so much easier if any of the other villagers were as dedicated to dungeon clearing as he was. He had nearly done it once, back when he was still getting used to magic. With Elder Winter there to mentor and watch out for them, <mark>Emrys</mark> had convinced Sven and Julia to join them in an earth dungeon. Sven was able to practice his healing and Julia her spear.

    To say it hadn¡¯t gone well would be an understatement. Julia had nearly gotten her leg torn off, and Sven had vomited at the sight.

    That had been the second room of a two-floor dungeon.

    Julia hadn¡¯t spoken to him for months after, and Sven had stopped listening when <mark>Emrys</mark> wanted to talk about dungeon strategy. Both tried to talk him out of ever going into a dungeon again.

    Winter hadn¡¯t said ¡°I told you so,¡± so much as he had telepathically screamed it with a well-timed eyebrow raise. Anyone else in town who was willing to go into a dungeon would only do so in a party that included at least two immortals, which was occasionally helpful but mostly defeated the purpose.

    <mark>Emrys</mark> found Sven¡¯s mother in the kitchen making sandwiches.

    ¡°Did you find anything useful?¡± she asked.

    ¡°We think he was getting into rune magic. I don¡¯t recognize the symbols he was using so I¡¯ll see if I can find something in the library.¡±

    ¡°Oh honey, why don¡¯t you leave that sort of thing to <mark>Zereh</mark>? She¡¯s already agreed to take you along, so all you have to do is wait for her to be ready. She¡¯ll know what to do.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> snapped. ¡°Are you worried about Sven or not? I thought you wanted me to help you find him, but as soon as you saw <mark>Zereh</mark> it¡¯s like you don¡¯t care anymore. ¡®She¡¯ll get to it when she gets to it, just wait for her at the gate.¡¯ Every moment we wait is a moment he¡¯s still in danger, and it¡¯s like I¡¯m the only one who sees that!¡± He was shouting by the end of it, and tears were pricking at his eyes. ¡°<mark>Zereh</mark> isn¡¯t even here anymore! For all that she said she would help, she¡¯s found something more important to do this evening.¡±

    Mrs. <mark>Thurgood¡¯s</mark> eyes flashed. She set down the bread she was holding. ¡°I¡¯ll thank you not to come into my house and tell me I don¡¯t care about my son.¡±

    <mark>Emrys</mark> blanched. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean¨C¡±

    She held up a hand for silence and received it. ¡°I know you like to play at adventuring, but the true difference between you and <mark>Zereh</mark> is that when an immortal accepts a quest, our fate is taken into the hands of the gods. Sven¡¯s fate is in the hands of the gods. One way or another his destiny has been decided, and it won¡¯t matter if we wait a day or a year. My only role in this now is to wait, and to hope he returns.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe that,¡± the mage said through clenched teeth. ¡°I can¡¯t believe we are so powerless in our own lives.¡±

    Mrs. <mark>Thurgood¡¯s</mark> eyes softened. ¡°I know.¡±

 Ch11 Demons

    Quest ¡°Where¡¯s My loot?¡± Complete!

    You¡¯ve learned why the dungeons are disappearing! A local mage is ruthlessly murdering innocent dungeon cores with complete disregard for how that will impact the ecosystem ¨C or worse, the economy!

    Report your findings to the Demon of Greed to collect your reward.

    Go now? YES or NO

    <mark>Zereh</mark> mentally selected YES. <mark>Emrys</mark> and the hut dissolved into darkness and were quickly superseded by a mountain cave. The quest prompt had dropped her just outside <mark>D¡¯ahn</mark> <mark>Nehete¡¯s</mark> cave at the top of Mount Hayes.

    That was something to be grateful for. Not every quest included the teleportation feature, and if she had had to climb the mountain again there was a good chance she would never have bothered turning it in. She had only been willing to scale it the first time because, well, any adventurer worth their salt wanted to slay a dragon. Not to mention that it was a major quest offered by the king, with a reward to match.

    The dragon, however, hadn¡¯t been at all what she was expecting. Oh, it was a large, scaled beast with wings that slept on a pile of gold, but <mark>D¡¯ahn</mark> had offered her a Unique quest that promised to pay out even more handsomely than what the king could offer.

    A goblin emerged from the cave entrance. It was classically green skinned with red eyes and pointed ears. Each of <mark>D¡¯ahn¡¯s</mark> minions was set apart by one piece of his horde however, and this one was adorned by one brilliant blue sapphire earring.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> idly wondered if it did any good without its counterpart.

    ¡°The master has been waiting for you,¡± the goblin rasped.

    She followed the creature into the cave, nodding cautiously to the monsters they passed. A few of them growled as she walked by and bats would occasionally circle around her head, but aside from that she was left alone. She just focused on maintaining her standoffish expression and walked with the confidence of someone they didn¡¯t want to mess with.

    When they finally reached the dragon¡¯s cave, Sapphire Earring stood to the side and waved her through.

    ¡°What, you weren¡¯t invited?¡± she teased.

    ¡°We respect the master¡¯s privacy,¡± he growled in return.

    The entrance was narrow with one last sharp turn, so the enormity of the room came as something of a shock. There was a long stretch of bare rock before gold began to litter the dirt gradually leading into a massive pile of gold coins and magic items.

    Curled like a sleeping cat at the top was the demon, wearing a dragon¡¯s skin. His scales were blood red and glinted dangerously in the fire light. He grinned at the sight of her, baring the full length of his sharp black teeth.

    ¡°You took your time returning,¡± he purred.

    <mark>Zereh</mark> suppressed a shudder. Few things frightened her in the world of Trillium, but the Demon of Greed was one of them. There was true malice in those eyes, along with the power to back it up.

    ¡°Let¡¯s make this quick,¡± she snapped. ¡°Your dungeons are disappearing because a fire mage in <mark>Westover</mark> is targeting them. He¡¯s hunting down the dungeon cores and ripping them out by the roots.¡±

    Smoke billowed out from the dragon¡¯s nostrils. ¡°Why?¡±

    The warrior shrugged, doing her best to convey nonchalance. ¡°He thinks they¡¯re a danger. People go in hoping for loot, but they don¡¯t make it out. If he destroys the dungeons, nobody gets hurt. Far as I can tell, he won¡¯t stop until he¡¯s cleared the ravine between <mark>Westover</mark> and <mark>Samwell</mark>.¡±

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    <mark>D¡¯ahn</mark> rose to his feet and snapped his teeth. Gold coins tumbled down the side of the horde.

    ¡°That short-sighted fool!¡± he roared. ¡°I was meticulous with my dungeons. They dish out a reward that¡¯s fair with respect to the level of danger. It¡¯s a fair system. And it isn¡¯t as though people stumble into them blindly.¡±

    <mark>Zereh</mark> wasn¡¯t interested in listening to another monologue about the dungeons. She¡¯d heard enough about it the first time around. ¡°Speaking of rewards,¡± she interjected. The sooner she could escape his increasingly furious aura the better.

    The dragon growled, but he nodded acknowledgment.

    Quest ¡°Where¡¯s My loot?¡± Complete!

    Congratulations! As a reward for completing the quest ¡°Where¡¯s My Loot?¡± <mark>D¡¯ah</mark> <mark>Nehete</mark> is offering Lightning in a Bottle.

    Note: to access this reward you must accept the quest Dungeon Avenger.

    Dungeon Avenger

    Dungeons are in danger! One unhinged mage is threatening the existence of dungeons as we know them! Stop that maniac at all costs!

    <mark>Zereh</mark> hesitated at the description. <mark>Emrys</mark> was odd for sure, but calling him unhinged maniac was a stretch.

    ¡°Why do I have to accept the next quest before I can get the reward?¡±

    The dragon sat back on his haunches. His lips pulled back in a smug grin. ¡°That¡¯s a fun little loophole isn¡¯t it? The bottle of lightning is a powerful, unique artifact. All you have to do is write the name of your adversary on the label of the bottle. Then, when you uncork the bottle it will target them and kill them instantly.¡±

    <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> eyes widened. She¡¯d never heard of a weapon that powerful. There was no restriction on how strong the victim could be and it was an entirely targeted attack.

    ¡°You understand.¡± The dragon¡¯s voice had gone dangerously soft. ¡°I only have one of these, so I can only give it to somebody sworn to see it through. That mage has to die.¡±

    <mark>Zereh¡¯s</mark> mind was racing. <mark>Emrys</mark> was pivotal to the necromancer quest she had just started. Not only did she need a party member, but he also had inside information that was already proving useful. If they did end up fighting the necromancer in the process of rescuing his friend, having a magic-wielder in the fight could make all the difference.

    That said, the new quest prompt didn¡¯t list a time requirement. She could wait to release the lightning until after they found Sven and brought him back home.

    ¡°I accept this quest,¡± she said.

    Both quest prompts disappeared. The dragon lazily gestured a levitation spell. At first, <mark>Zereh</mark> couldn¡¯t tell that anything was happening. Then she noticed a portion of the horde was shaking. Loose coins tumbled down, along with the occasional goblet or gemstone. From deep within, the bottle emerged. It was about the size of a wine bottle, made of blue glass that she could almost see through. It floated gently into her hands and she focused on the description.

    Bottle of Lightning, unique

    Centuries ago, the great wizard <mark>Tenebris</mark> <mark>Capillus</mark> Magus captured lightning in a bottle. (His best friend Jared dared him to do it.)

    The gods themselves were furious, as they knew this weapon had the power to permanently kill even them. <mark>Tenebris</mark> entrusted the bottle to <mark>D¡¯ahn</mark> <mark>Nehete</mark>, the Demon of Greed for safekeeping and was never heard from again.

    Use wisely!

    <mark>Zereh</mark> let out a low whistle. ¡°You would grant me the power to kill a god? What¡¯s stopping me from writing your name on this label?¡±

    The dragon roared. He <mark>teleported</mark> down from the horde so fast she didn¡¯t even see him cast the spell. In an <mark>eyeblink</mark> his massive teeth were inches from her face. Hot breath washed over her face, and she couldn¡¯t stop herself from flinching back.

    ¡°You exist to serve me,¡± he rumbled. ¡°Do you think I would give you such a weapon without protecting myself? If you turn that weapon on me, you will face a fate worse than death.¡±

    <mark>Zereh</mark> gulped. ¡°Right. Got it. Do you need anything else, or are we done here?¡±

    <mark>D¡¯ahn</mark> snarled. ¡°We¡¯re done.¡± He blew out a stream of fire that swirled around <mark>Zereh</mark> in a tight spiral.

    When it cleared, she was back at the cave entrance. She shivered. Speaking with the dragon made her realize just how arrogant she had been to think she could have slain it in the first place. It was clearly well beyond her level and would likely be one of the last bosses she ever went after. And in the meantime, she was carrying what was probably the most powerful single-use weapon in the game¡­ to kill an <mark>NPC</mark> at least ten levels below her.

    She shook her head. <mark>Emrys</mark> had made some powerful enemies by hunting dungeons. It was a shame, really. His goal had seemed noble, if shortsighted. Most of the people who went into the dungeons were players like her, and the occasional <mark>wipeout</mark> was well worth the experience and loot.

    Even if sometimes all you got out of it was a stupid dress.

 Ch12 Home Sweet Home

    Zereh checked the time and scowled. It was past time to go. Her encounter with the Demon of Greed had taken longer than she¡¯d hoped, but there had been a countdown timer on the quest return. Not her favorite feature, but what was a girl to do.

    She initiated the logout sequence. The aesthetic of it had changed greatly over the year since she¡¯d started playing the game. Where once the logout process had been a sudden, unpleasant jolt from one version of reality to another, it had since become a gradual pixelization of the scenery around her, before her vision cleared to show the thin film of the VR visor. Tests had shown that a more obvious transition from game to reality helped prevent psychological breakdowns where people lost track of what was real and what wasn¡¯t. That had been a PR nightmare.

    Sarah took off the helmet and shook out hair that had gone slick with sweat. It was an unfortunate downside of the older model. She had been begging her parents for the new version, a fully immersive pod that tapped into every nerve and sense.

    She could get by with the helmet, glasses, and omni-directional treadmill, but she dreamed of being able to feel the artificial sunlight on her skin, to taste the odd foods she encountered in the cities.

    An impatient knock on the door startled her out of her musings. Without waiting for a response, Sarah¡¯s sister came barging in. Ruth was already dressed to the nines in a black and white dress that hugged her in all the right places and flared out in the skirt.

    ¡°How do you always look so good?¡±

    ¡°It turns out when you live your life in the real world, you have time to curl your hair.¡± Ruth looked Sarah up and down and crossed her arms. ¡°At least you¡¯re awake. I was afraid I¡¯d have to force you to log out.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not¨C I¡¯m awake while I play,¡± Sarah corrected hopelessly. There was a safety feature on the VR system that allowed someone to manually log her out of the game if necessary. It wasn¡¯t pleasant, but that didn¡¯t stop Ruth from making use of it if she was running late to dinner.

    ¡°I was keeping an eye on the time,¡± said Sarah. Even to her own ears, she sounded petulant.

    Ruth waved a dismissive hand. ¡°Either way, we¡¯re cutting it close.¡± She eyed her sister¡¯s hair. ¡°You don¡¯t have time to shower, so just throw some dry shampoo in it and I¡¯ll put your hair up.¡±

    Sarah went to the bathroom to do as she was told. Of the two of them, Ruth was the one who understood their parents and how to please them. She would never admit it, but she appreciated Ruth¡¯s assistance. Without her smoothing over the familial disagreements, Sarah would likely have been thrown out of the house long ago.

    So, she dutifully sprayed the shampoo through her hair and shook it out until all traces of sweat had disappeared, or at least grown less noticeable. By the time she was done, Ruth had set up shop with all her makeup. She¡¯d long since perfected the art of quickly transforming her errant sister into a presentable member of the family.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky Mom and Dad were at Cheryl¡¯s. Did you spend all day playing that game?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why they care what I do,¡± Sarah grumbled.

    Ruth used the handle of a makeup brush to smack Sarah on the nose. ¡°They care what all of us do. We ¡®represent the family.¡¯ Close your eyes.¡±

    She closed her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, they wanted me to go to college, so I went to college. They decided they wanted me back home, so I came back home. But I guess I don¡¯t even do that right.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb,¡± said Ruth. It had become a sort of tradition for the two sisters to rehash the old argument every time they had a family dinner. ¡°Social anarchist groups don¡¯t put our family name in a positive light, and you know it. You knew it then, you know it now, so knock it off.¡±

    ¡°They wanted me to join an extracurricular.¡± Sarah shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance. ¡°If anything, they should have been proud I worked my way up to vice chairman so fast.¡± But the words rang hollow. Ruth was right; their parents¡¯ reaction hadn¡¯t come as any sort of surprise.

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    She had gone off to college wide-eyed and naive, but higher education had introduced her to the ever widening gap between the upper and lower class. The middle class was in the process of dissolving entirely, and when she learned that her family¡¯s obscene wealth was predicated on the suffering of so many others, she rebelled against it.

    Faster than she could blink, her mother had clipped her wings. She pulled Sarah out of college with an embarrassing public statement about ¡°health issues¡± and dragged her back home.

    ¡°Okay, now smile.¡± Ruth brushed blush across the apples of Sarah¡¯s cheeks. ¡°I just don¡¯t get why you had to be so militant about it. You could probably get away with running a charity or throwing fundraisers. That¡¯s close enough to being a party planner that mom would have been mollified, and you still would have accomplished something.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯d be okay with it because it wouldn¡¯t ever be effective, not really. At most it would be a drop in the bucket for all the people struggling out there. They don¡¯t need handouts, they need a systemic change.¡± She sighed. ¡°You don¡¯t realize how bad it is out there. I didn¡¯t either until I started talking to some of the scholarship kids at school. You and I, we¡¯re insulated from the rest of the world. We only meet people like us, who have the same warped viewpoint of the world.

    ¡°And it¡¯s horrific, the way so many people are forced to live. We live in a world where nobody should go hungry, and most people shouldn¡¯t even have to work, yet the majority of our country¡¯s population is forced to work two jobs just to feed their children.¡±

    Ruth shifted uncomfortably. ¡°They aren¡¯t managing their money properly then, or they should work on getting a better job.¡±

    ¡°The system works against them!¡± Sarah could feel herself getting worked up, but she was on a roll. ¡°It¡¯s expensive to be poor. If the choice is between investing in stock or eating dinner, which would you choose? Not to mention how many people die because of entirely preventable illnesses, just because they couldn¡¯t afford the treatment. We should all be so much more angry than we are. I was on a path to make a real impact, when mom dragged me back home.¡± She heaved a sigh. ¡°I think that¡¯s why I enjoy Trillium so much. The problems are simpler, and it actually makes a difference when I help people.¡±

    Ruth paused in her work. The face makeup was finished, so she was working on braiding Sarah¡¯s hair into an elegant updo.

    ¡°You know they¡¯re not real people though, right?¡±

    ¡°Out of everything I said, that¡¯s what you¡¯re focusing on? Of course I know they¡¯re not real people,¡± Sarah scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m not one of those nutjobs who loses track of reality. But that¡¯s what escapism is all about, you know? I may not be able to control my life here, but I can in Trillium. I¡¯m powerful there. Respected. I can make a difference. It¡¯s the only place I can make a difference.¡±

    Ruth continued twisting the locks of Sarah¡¯s hair. The one rebellion their parents had allowed Sarah to keep was the silver streak in her pitch black hair. Ruth took advantage of the color difference by pulling the silver into the border of the braid.

    ¡°There is something else I was wondering.¡± Ruth¡¯s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°How¡¯s your mental health?¡± Ruth ran a brush through the last section of loose hair to prep it for braiding. ¡°Are you retreating into the game because you¡¯re, I don¡¯t know, depressed or something?¡±

    Sarah tensed. ¡°Did Mom tell you to ask me that?¡±

    Ruth tugged her fingers through a persistent knot, loosening it gently until the brush ran freely through the hair.

    ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Every now and then I am capable of independent thought.¡±

    ¡°Oh come on, you know I meant¨C¡±

    ¡°I know what you meant,¡± snapped Ruth. ¡°I¡¯m worried about you. You spend more time in the game than you do with me, and I can¡¯t even tell if you have friends you play with or if it¡¯s just you.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ Actually, I made a new friend today.¡±

    ¡°You did? Tell me about them!¡±

    ¡°His name is Emrys. He¡¯s¡­ He plays a fire mage. I think he¡¯s even more passionate about saving the world than I am.¡±

    ¡°The real one, or the fake one?¡±

    Sarah looked away.

    ¡°Sorry. That was mean. I¡¯m glad you made a friend. That makes me feel a little better.¡±

    ¡°You could play with me if you¡¯re so worried,¡± Sarah teased.

    Ruth visibly shuddered at the thought. ¡°And give the government access to my thoughts and memories? I don¡¯t think so.¡±

    ¡°Do I look like a government zombie to you?¡±

    ¡°Just because they haven¡¯t done it yet doesn¡¯t mean they won¡¯t in the future. Call me crazy, but I¡¯m just not going to take that chance.¡± She clapped her hands together and sat back. ¡°Okay! All done. What dress are you wearing?¡±

    Sarah shrugged. ¡°The blue one, I guess.¡±

    ¡°You wore that last month,¡± Ruth groaned. ¡°Let me take a look.¡± Sarah followed her back into the bedroom.

    ¡°Oh, this one!¡± Ruth¡¯s eyes lit up as she pulled out a black and maroon dress. It had one long sleeve that came all the way up, around the neck and connected as a strap on the other side. The neckline was angled so the fabric drew the eye down while still covering the chest.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Sarah grimaced.

    ¡°Definitely. Mom and Dad are getting annoyed with you playing that game all the time, and they said we¡¯re having a guest. I¡¯ll get you a pair of earrings and you¡¯ll be ready.¡±

    ¡°Nobody said anything to me about a guest,¡± Sarah grumbled as she pulled on the dress. She struggled with the sleeve until Ruth gingerly lifted it up over Sarah¡¯s hair.

    ¡°That¡¯s because you don¡¯t talk to Mom unless you have to.¡±

 Ch13 Family Dinner

    Ruth strode through the hallway with all the grace of a princess, albeit a princess who was in a bit of a hurry. She held her head high and even her quickened pace did nothing to lessen her poise.

    Sarah trailed after, doing her best not to fall behind. She landed wrong on a hasty step and stuttered into the wall, her palm slapping against the plaster.

    ¡°Hurry up!¡± Ruth hissed, barely even slowing to glance back.

    ¡°You should have let me wear the chunky heels,¡± Sarah grumbled. ¡°Those are way easier to walk in.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t match your dress. Come on!¡±

    The two sisters slid into the sitting room and settled into the light green chairs that faced the couch.

    Sarah huffed and leaned down to rub her ankle. ¡°See? We had plenty of time.¡±

    Ruth looked sideways at Sarah. ¡°Sit up straight.¡±

    The sound of heels clicking against the marble floors reached their ears. Sarah jerked upright just as their mother entered the room.

    Elena wore a deep blue gown with a high neckline and gauzy three-quarter sleeves. Her hair was stark white and cropped short in a way that elongated her already sharp cheekbones. She surveyed her daughters with a piercing gaze that highlighted their flaws anywhere it lingered.

    At last she smiled, and for a moment the strict lines of her face softened into approval.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you girls look lovely,¡± she said, taking a seat on the couch. ¡°Your father should be down soon.¡±

    Sarah forced a tight smile. Once, her mother¡¯s approval would have meant the world. But times had changed, and the words felt hollow. In part it was because she knew it was really Ruth¡¯s efforts her mother was complimenting, but also because she no longer wanted to be a part of her mother¡¯s society, which she had once struggled so hard to fit into. How much better off she could be living her own life, separate from the exalted trappings of elegance.

    Ruth, on the other hand, glowed at the praise. ¡°How was your day, mother?¡±

    ¡°Oh, wonderful. Your father and I had a lovely time with Cheryl and David. Sarah, you remember Cheryl, don¡¯t you? It¡¯s been a few years since you last saw her.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Cheryl was an old friend of the family. When Sarah and Ruth were kids they had joint family vacations with Cheryl¡¯s family at their beach house. The tradition had ended when Cheryl¡¯s children moved away and had families of their own, but it was a time the girls looked back on with fondness. Back then, she¡¯d been blissfully ignorant of the sweatshops and child labor that fueled Cheryl¡¯s empire.

    ¡°Unfortunately, David is going on a business trip to Europe for the summer. Poor Cheryl is going to be all alone.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s too bad,¡± Sarah said, though it was hard for her to dredge up any real sympathy.

    ¡°It is.¡± Elena tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. ¡°The worst thing for her right now would be to go to that house alone all summer.¡±

    ¡°Are you thinking of going with her, then?¡± asked Ruth.

    Her mother chuckled softly. ¡°Oh no, dear, I couldn¡¯t. I have responsibilities here. We all do, unfortunately. Your father has the business, you have your job. Sarah has¡­¡± She looked puzzled for a moment, then snapped her fingers. ¡°Sarah honey, you¡¯re not busy this summer.¡±

    Sarah froze. Cheryl¡¯s beach house was a private getaway in every sense of the word, equipped with only the most basic internet capability. If she had to go, she would be completely unable to connect to Trillium. That was no doubt why Elena was threatening to send her.

    ¡°No, mother, I,¡± she stammered.

    Elena tapped a manicured nail against her lips. ¡°If nothing changes for you in the next couple of months, she would be delighted to have your company.¡± Her statement was punctuated by the tolling of the grandfather clock. ¡°Ah! Would you look at the time. Our guests will be arriving any moment now.¡± Her eyes met Sarah¡¯s. ¡°You haven¡¯t met Brayden yet, have you? I do hope the two of you will get along.¡± She rose to her feet in a flutter of gossamer fabric.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Sarah stared after her. ¡°What do you think, Ruth? Am I to be sold off as a nurse or a whore?¡±

    Ruth gave her a look. ¡°Don¡¯t be dramatic.¡±

    Sarah pressed the back of her hand to her forehead and swooned. ¡°Alas! Even mine own sister hath turned against me!¡±

    ¡°Be serious!¡± But Ruth couldn¡¯t hide her smile.

    Sarah¡¯s face hardened. ¡°You heard her. She¡¯ll take Trillium away from me unless I get along with Brayden.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Why does she even care if I go out with him?¡±

    ¡°Oh! Oh my god. It¡¯s for Dad.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°Our guests tonight are the Turners. Dad¡¯s been trying to work out a business deal with Mrs. Turner for months now. If you start dating her son, that gives Dad an excuse to spend more time with Mrs. T, which means he has a better shot at making the deal.¡±

    Sarah leaned forward. ¡°But that would mean¡­ No, it¡¯s too much of a gamble. Why risk Brayden and I not getting along and spoiling the whole thing?¡±

    ¡°Because, it¡¯s not a gamble.¡± Ruth spoke slowly, piecing it together as she went. ¡°Either you get along with Brayden and Dad can work on his deal, or you don¡¯t get along with Brayden and you get loaned out to Cheryl. Mom must want something from her, so either way they¡¯ll get something out of this. It¡¯s just a matter of who.¡±

    Sarah slumped back in her chair. ¡°What should I do?¡±

    Ruth¡¯s eyes softened in a rare moment of sympathy. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said. ¡°I would take Cheryl, but I¡¯m not as addicted to that game as you are.¡± She twisted her ring. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll like Brayden.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just a game, it¡¯s¡­ It doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Sarah exhaled. ¡°Dad¡¯s on his way down.¡±

    Their father¡¯s footfalls were softer than their mother¡¯s but more resonant. He had always been more demanding in his own way, both kinder and more resolute in his delivery of expectations and disappointment.

    The girls had learned the sound of his footsteps when they were young enough to be ecstatic that Daddy was home. As they grew older, it had become a signal that they were to be on their best behavior. Even Sarah still acted her best around him, more easily donning the perfect angel persona than she did around her mother. There was a part of her that still hoped to make him proud, that dreamed he might respect her for her choices and convictions even if he didn¡¯t agree with them.

    When he entered the room, he sat in the same seat that their mother had just vacated. Unlike Elena, however, his gaze was warm when he looked at them.

    ¡°Good evening, girls. What did you two get up to today?¡±

    Sarah froze. She couldn¡¯t tell him that she¡¯d spent the whole day playing Trillium. Honestly, she didn¡¯t know why he continued to ask things like that. It might be better for both of them if he¡¯d take a page out of Elena¡¯s book and simply sidestep the questions he wouldn¡¯t like the answers to.

    ¡°I¡¯m finishing up a project for the Donhaiser Group,¡± Ruth answered smoothly. ¡°They don¡¯t need it until next week, but I figured I could score a few points by completing it early.¡±

    Donovan beamed. ¡°That¡¯s my girl. Putting in the extra hours just like your old man.¡±

    Sarah felt sick. It was foolish to think he¡¯d ever see the value in what she did. He was a company man through and through, his values directly at odds with hers.

    The doorbell rang, and the sound of it jolted her like an electric shock. This was her chance to do something for her father. She could get along with Brayden, at least long enough for her father to charm Mrs Turner.

    Was she selling out? Yes. Was it cowardly? Probably. But she wanted him to look at her with the same beaming pride that he had just shown Ruth, and the knot of anxiety in her breast told her she wouldn¡¯t earn it by being herself.

    She heard her mother welcoming the guests and leading them to the dining room. Elena called out that dinner was ready and as they filed into the room she introduced everyone who hadn¡¯t yet met.

    Brayden was a tall man, average looking with an attempt at stubble. The look he gave Sarah made her stomach twist. It was an evaluating look, with just a hint of calculation that melted into a smile.

    ¡°It¡¯s good to finally meet you,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve heard so much about you.¡±

    ¡°Same to you,¡± she said, shaking his hand. ¡°Why don¡¯t we sit together?¡±

    Her mother looked on in approval. ¡°Brayden here has just started working at his father¡¯s firm, isn¡¯t that right?¡±

    The man beamed at his son. ¡°That¡¯s right. We want him to get a feel for the company from the ground up, so we¡¯re starting him at VP of sales for a while. If he works hard, he might get a seat on the board in a few years.¡±

    Brayden brightened at that, and the conversation took a turn for business. Sarah smiled and nodded her way through it, occasionally making comments about how impressive it all was that he¡¯d achieved so much, so quickly.

    After dinner, Sarah walked Brayden to his car. ¡°It was nice to meet you,¡± she said. ¡°Even if the whole thing was orchestrated by our parents.¡±

    He leaned against the hood of the car and put a hand on her waist to pull her close. ¡°What do you say we keep the night going?¡±

    She took his hand in hers and slid out of his grasp. ¡°My mother would kill me. But I do have an idea for our next date.¡±

    ¡°Tonight counted as a date, then?¡± His eyes danced.

    Sarah bit her lip. This was the part that could go sideways. ¡°Have you ever played Trillium?¡±

    Confusion creased his forehead. ¡°That dumb VR game?¡±

    Stay calm, stay calm. Sarah let out a practiced, tinkling laugh. ¡°Yeah. I was thinking, if you wanted to meet me in the game, we would have real privacy.¡±

    He was still confused, but she could see she was speaking his language again.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you ever feel like¡­¡± She glanced back at the house. ¡°Like we¡¯re just their puppets? And they¡¯re watching our every move?¡±

    He stood and cupped her face in his hand. Her stomach roiled at his touch, but she had to keep it up long enough for him to agree to the date. Once they were in the game, away from prying eyes, she could make her pitch.

    He kissed her slowly. ¡°It¡¯s a date.¡±

 Ch14 Understanding Magic

    Emrys sat alone in the library, his table covered in dusty tomes. He had pulled every book that even tangentially related to runes and still managed to learn absolutely nothing about the sketches he¡¯d seen in Sven¡¯s room.

    He rubbed his eyes. Nobody in their right mind turned to runic magic, especially if they already had another option at their fingertips. Sven was a life mage. Emrys had given him mana root to unlock his ability, and the mage had honed his craft in the healing tent. That had always been his focus and he¡¯d never expressed a desire to branch out, though unlike Emrys, he would have had to do so via increasingly creative uses of healing magic. Emrys was only able to branch out to different schools thanks to the versatility of the Arcanist class.

    That said, it wasn¡¯t as if learning another school of magic would be easier through rune crafting. If anything, the opposite would be true. Runes required painful accuracy in both the way they were drawn and the materials used. It was like a hellish combination of calligraphy and calculus. The composition of materials would determine the durability of the spell, the specific color tint of the pigment used to fill in the rune would determine the elements of the spell, and the shape of the rune itself would indicate its function. Because runes could activate any element, they operated on a gradient of composition to elemental ability. A slight miscalculation could result in a harmless miscast or catastrophic failure. A master of runes could conceivably cast any spell of any strength was only the smallest manage rain, but learning it all was so hellishly difficult that the only people who attempted it were those so desperate for magic that they would accept it in any form, or those who lived so fully in their own minds that they could forsake their entire community for the sake of cerebral pursuits. Not to mention the sheer cost associated with acquiring the specific materials necessary for even the most basic spells.

    Sven fit neither stereotype; the discovery of his practice runes didn¡¯t make sense. To compound the mystery, Emrys couldn¡¯t find the slightest hint of what those runes were meant to accomplish. Not that the small town library had much for him to go off of. He had found only one instructional manual and it had been focused entirely on farming. Runes to be carved into a plow to increase the harvest or added to a watering pot to better nourish the plant. None of it pertained to Sven and more importantly none of it matched the sketches.

    That had been his best hope. The other eight books were lucky to have even a full chapter on the subject, and when they did it tended to be the same vague introductory description of how pointlessly difficult it all was.

    He liked to think he would have noticed if Sven had gone off the deep end of scholarly interest, but then again he had been spending more and more time in the dungeons lately. It was entirely possible he had missed Sven¡¯s shift in focus, blinded as he was by his own pursuits.

    Emrys had been feeling for some time that he was close to a major breakthrough in his understanding of magic. With each dungeon he completed, he felt more attuned to his magic. One the first day he had absorbed his mana root, he had felt like learning magic was analogous to making a friend. It was a unique experience in every instance, with different steps and prerequisites in each interaction.

    Elder Winter had dispelled him of that notion, claiming instead that each school of magic followed a strict progression known as a skill tree. A fire mage started with Fireball and worked his way up to Firestorm, for example. A life mage started with Healing Touch and worked their way up to Regeneration and Revival.

    But the more comfortable Emrys became with his own magic, the more he felt he¡¯d been right in the beginning. Every spell was like a conversation with the universe, a request for change and action. The better they got to know each other, the more the world was willing to bend for him, the more it trusted him and what he was asking.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    And in return, he gave his mana. The interactions had begun as something transactional: mana for magic. But lately Emrys was becoming more certain that it was more than that. Like if there was anyone he could truly count on, it was the universe.

    Which was crazy. Obviously.

    Nobody else had ever expressed that same understanding of magic, either in his experience or in the books he¡¯d read. The few times he¡¯d been foolish enough to mention it, he¡¯d been shot down and treated like a child.

    Magic was strict, everyone knew that. You gave and you took, working mana like a muscle until you could take even more.

    Maybe the universe is antisocial, he thought, half-joking. Not everyone gets to be its friend.

    ¡°Hello world,¡± he said, laughing, then buried his face in his palms. ¡°Oh my god, I¡¯m exhausted.¡± The mage plopped his head down on the book in front of him, wondering if anyone would notice if he took a nap. He¡¯d barely slept, not knowing when Zereh would return and wanting to finish his research before she did.

    ¡°Careful. I heard there¡¯s a fine for drooling on the books.¡±

    Emrys jerked up at the sound of Zereh¡¯s voice.

    She slid into the seat across from him, a lightly teasing smile on her lips.

    ¡°Hey,¡± he said.

    ¡°You look exhausted.¡± She handed him a stamina potion.

    ¡°It¡¯s not good to drink those too often,¡± he said, fixing his gaze on the yellow bottle.

    ¡°We¡¯ll just do the one, then. Or were you planning on several late nights?¡±

    Emrys blinked hard. Was she¡­flirting with him? He shook his head and took the potion. He really must be losing it.

    Zereh paged through one of the books. ¡°Did you find anything?¡±

    Emrys shook his head. ¡°Only dead ends. I couldn¡¯t find anything related to what he was working on, which means I also don¡¯t know how he learned it in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Or why.¡±

    ¡°Or why,¡± he agreed. The mage leaned back in his chair. ¡°When we find him, we can ask him all about it. But there¡¯s a good chance it¡¯s not related to his disappearance anyway.¡±

    Zereh raised an eyebrow at that but didn¡¯t comment. ¡°Did he check any books out that haven¡¯t been returned?¡±

    ¡°No. He did look through some of these, but if he took anything out with him, the librarians don¡¯t know about it.¡±

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s it, then.¡± She stood to leave.

    Emrys closed the books and started stacking them.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Putting the books away.¡±

    ¡°The librarians will take care of that,¡± she scoffed. When he didn¡¯t move, she added, ¡°I thought you were in a hurry?¡±

    Emrys frowned but did as he was told. He¡¯d heard the librarians complain over the years about the laziness of adventurers and hadn¡¯t wanted to add himself to that list, but she was right. Their quest was more important.

    He shot an apologetic look at the librarian, but she just waved him off.

    ¡°How do runes work, anyway?¡± Zereh asked, her voice unapologetically loud as they exited the library. ¡°I don¡¯t know anyone who uses them.¡±

    ¡°Runemaster is a crafting-combat class, probably the only one available.¡± Emrys put up a hand to shade his eyes against the sudden sunlight. ¡°Because it¡¯s a crafting class, anyone can learn it and runes could theoretically be used to cast any spell, so long as you have the right materials, pigment, and shape.¡±

    Zereh whistled. ¡°That sounds powerful.¡±

    ¡°It can be, but it¡¯s not worth it.¡± He explained the difficulty of the practice, stressing the need for accuracy and the high cost of failure. Before he knew it, they were well on their way to Sonora and his awkwardness around Zereh had begun to fade. She was an excellent listener, asking intelligent questions and looking at him with such curiosity and interest that he was tempted to keep talking just to make that last.

    ¡°Hold on a minute.¡± Zereh stopped in the middle of the dirt road. ¡°We need to make a quick detour.¡±

    Emrys bit back an objection. She¡¯d proven in town that she would do whatever she pleased, regardless of his opinion. Far be it from him to point out the danger of stepping off the protected path.

    Zereh strode through the tall grass, heedless of the risks. Emrys hesitated for only a moment before following her. Whatever she was doing, it would be faster and safer with a partner.

    She led him up over a hill. To his eyes it looked indistinguishable from the rest of the valley, but she walked with purpose, like she could sense something important on the other side.

    He had to admit to himself that despite his impatience to finally be getting on the road, he was also intrigued to know what could have so instantly derailed her. As they crested the ridge, Emrys saw an older gentleman working on what looked to be a shrine. He couldn¡¯t tell what deity it was for, but the sight of it made his blood run cold.

 Ch15 Side Quest

    ¡°Zereh,¡± he called. ¡°I don¡¯t think this is a good idea. Let¡¯s just go to Sonora.¡±

    Because at the end of the day, it didn¡¯t matter which god it was for; they were all trouble. Oh, it would be all well and good for her to get mixed up in a god¡¯s business, but it could easily be deadly for him. Loathe as he was to admit it, the immortals were suited to the games between gods in a way he never would be.

    Naturally, she ignored him.

    ¡°Hi there!¡± she called to the old man. ¡°Is there something I can help you with?¡±

    Emrys dearly wondered what her motivation was. Did she care so little about Sven, or did she just not believe his time was running out? Or did she care about Sven, but also care more about the man on the side of the road?

    ¡°Thank heavens you¡¯re here,¡± the old man said. He was a perfectly ordinary looking gentleman, his dark hair just starting to turn gray. His eyes were brown and nodescript, but there was something in his gaze that set him apart. Here was a man who could see through the illusions of the world, could break it down into its most basic elements and do whatever he pleased with the pieces. His eyes pierced deep into Emrys¡¯s soul for a moment that lasted forever, then turned a twinkling smile in Zereh¡¯s direction.

    ¡°I¡¯m Greg, pleased to meet you. I¡¯m about to complete this shrine to the Unknown God, and it just occurred to me that that might irritate the other gods who wish to lay claim to this area. You look like a brave, strong warrior. Would you defend me and my shrine as I put on the finishing touches?¡±

    Zereh surveyed the shrine. It wasn¡¯t much to look at compared to the elaborate altars she¡¯d seen in the city, but there was an undeniable gravity to it. The shrine was a waist-high tower constructed of plain gray stone, the kind that could have come from anywhere. What was impressive about it wasn¡¯t the stone itself but the ancient carvings inlaid upon it that hinted at deep, secret meanings.

    ¡°Which gods would we be defending against?¡± Zereh asked.

    Emrys couldn¡¯t believe she was actually considering this. No, it was worse than that. She was choosing to put herself directly in between two known, powerful deities in order to entangle herself with a god of completely unknown power and potential, and Emrys could absolutely believe she was considering it.

    ¡°It won¡¯t be us defending,¡± Emrys interjected before Greg could answer her question. They both turned to him, Zereh with annoyance and Greg with curiosity. ¡°I don¡¯t want any part in this.¡±

    ¡°No pressure, my boy, it¡¯s entirely your decision,¡± Greg said congenially. ¡°But if you don¡¯t mind, would you tell me why not?¡±

    Zereh flashed a startled look at the old man, then seemed to decide she¡¯d like to hear the answer as well.

    He nearly faltered under their combined stare. ¡°We need to find Sven. He¡¯s out there, and he needs me. He¡¯s needed me for a long time, and I was blind to it.¡± When he looked at Zereh, his gaze was pleading. ¡°I can¡¯t let him down now.¡±

    For a moment her eyes softened. He thought he was getting through to her, but it didn¡¯t last. Her face hardened once more into the expressionless mask she¡¯d worn when they first met.

    ¡°We¡¯ll get to him when we get to him,¡± she said. ¡°First, we do this.¡±

    Emrys swallowed hard, doing his best not to let his disappointment show and failing miserably. ¡°Find me in Sonora,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll start the investigation without you.¡±

    He spun on his heel¨C or tried to ¨Cand found that he couldn¡¯t move. Below the neck, he was completely paralyzed. His eyes bulged, rolling until they landed on Greg. The old man was watching him with unrbidled fascination.

    ¡°What the hell have you done to me, old man?!¡±

    Greg held up his hands. ¡°Nothing at all, I swear it.¡±

    Zereh¡¯s cool gaze didn¡¯t hold even a flicker of surprise. ¡°I¡¯ve accepted this quest as party leader,¡± she explained. ¡°So long as you¡¯re in my party, you cannot abandon our quest. Nor can you continue a quest without me.¡±

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Then make me party leader,¡± Emrys growled. ¡°Let me go!¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t make a difference. It¡¯s because I¡¯m an immortal, not because I¡¯m the leader.¡±

    Greg looked impressed. ¡°However did you discover that?¡±

    .Zereh spared him a glance. ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave the party, then. You can add me back in when you get to Sonora.¡±

    ¡°If you leave the party, it will be for good.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°If you leave this party,¡± she repeated slowly, ¡°I will not invite you back in when I get to Sonora.¡±

    Emrys stared. In the short time since they had met, he had known her to be stoic and gruff but also kind. She worked harder to hide her compassion then she did her annoyance, as though kindness were a weakness she could feel but never show.

    Never would he have expected her to be cruel, and that was what this felt like: cruelty. She was asking - no, demanding - that he choose between his friend¡¯s life and his own. That he risk not just his life but his future as well. Gods didn¡¯t let you rest once you fulfilled their first task. There would always be a follow-up, or a retaliation from a rival deity. The shrine wasn¡¯t just a shrine, it was a gateway into a realm he wasn¡¯t capable of surviving. It was a death sentence she was asking him to sign.

    ¡°Why?¡± he asked. He looked at her like he might find the truth in her eyes.

    She didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°If you want to be in my party, I need to know I can count on you to be there, wherever our quests take us. In the same way that you need to be able to trust and rely on me, I need to rely on you. I can¡¯t do that if you¡¯re going to abandon me at every quest that¡¯s a little outside your comfort zone.¡±

    The arcanist considered that. In truth, she was asking for the same level of loyalty and accountability that he had already asked of her. If he could trust her, if they could trust each other, that could be the foundation of a party that lasted beyond this quest. It was the sort of partnership he had been longing for, for longer than he could remember. He had expected to find it in Sven, but his friend had turned to healing rather than fighting.

    The paralysis vanished as soon as he made his decision. He took a step closer to Greg.

    ¡°What is it you need to finish your shrine?¡±

    The man grinned. ¡°Not much is known about the Unknown God. As you can imagine.¡± He chuckled. It was the unselfconscious laugh of a man who held on to a well-worn joke for his own amusement, long used to the blank stares of his humorless companions. ¡°Ah. But what we do know is, he loved Midnight Silk flowers. They used to be plentiful in these lands, but nowadays can only be found at the tallest peak of the Whistling Mountains. The finishing touch of this altar will be three Midnight Silk flowers, one for each point of the triangle.¡± Greg gestured at three holes in the top of the shrine. The stem of the Midnight Silk flower would go in the hole, and the blossom would keep it from falling through.

    ¡°Those mountains are at least three days travel from here!¡± Emrys exclaimed.

    Greg clasped his hands and nodded. ¡°Yes. I won¡¯t be able to make the journey myself. Please, brave warriors, bring me these flowers.¡±

    ¡°Let me get this straight.¡± Emrys could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. ¡°You¡¯re aware that the Unknown God likes Midnight Silk flowers. You came out here specifically to make a shrine for him that was designed to include Midnight Silk flowers. But you didn¡¯t bring any Midnight Silk flowers?!¡±

    Greg just looked at him with a quizzical smile. ¡°My dear boy,¡± he said, ¡°I suspected I would find an adventurer along the way who could assist me.¡±

    The old man¡¯s calm was infuriating, but his words did make an odd sort of sense. When Emrys thought back on it, he could recall many instances where his friends or family would end up somewhere missing a key ingredient. All would seem lost until an adventurer inevitably walked by, willing to run the errand. He had even done it himself on occasion. Only, he¡¯d never thought about it because he¡¯d never been interrupted on his way to something else. He¡¯d never been the one to run the errand.

    ¡°Zereh, please.¡± He turned to the warrior. ¡°I¡¯ll help you with this quest, I swear it. But let us do it after we rescue Sven.¡±

    She cocked her head. ¡°If I say no, will you threaten to leave again?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Emrys squared his shoulders. ¡°But if Sven dies because we were delayed, I¡¯ll never forgive you.¡±

    The stoic woman considered his words. ¡°However long it takes to reach him, we cannot change his fate, not really. His mother understands that, but for whatever reason you refuse to.¡± She tapped her lips thoughtfully. ¡°I¡¯ll prove it to you, I think. We¡¯ll take this quest first.¡±

    Emrys gritted his teeth, but he was a man of his word. There was a part of him that regretted ever teaming up with Zereh, but that part was drowned out by the memory of nearly dying in the dungeon. He needed her. He owed her.

    ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s go find these flowers.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit,¡± Zereh grinned. ¡°You know, I do recall spending time in those mountains on my way over here. And as it happens, I¡¯m a bit of a hoarder. I picked up these flowers just in case they might be useful someday.¡± She rummaged through her bag for a moment and pulled out an entire bouquet of Midnight Silks. Their stems were such pure black that the color erased their texture. The petals seemed to erupt from nothing, and they were a glittering, rainbow white that was too bright to focus on.

    There was magic in those flowers. Emrys could sense it wafting out like a scent. It was a light, playful magic, but beyond that the arcanist couldn¡¯t discern its exact nature.

    The old man laughed and clapped his hands in delight. ¡°Wonderful! A true adventurer is always prepared.¡±

 Ch16 The Trouble with Gods

    ¡°Stand ready,¡± said Greg. ¡°As soon as I place the first flower, the local deity will attack.¡±

    Zereh nodded mutely. Her swords were already unsheathed, and she was crouched at the ready.

    A ball of fire flickered on and off in Emrys¡¯s hand.

    ¡°Here we go!¡± The old man threaded the first flower into place on the altar. Once it was snugly in place it began to glow, illuminating the nearby carvings as well. The scent of the playful magic grew stronger.

    ¡°There! From the east!¡± Zereh pointed her sword at the dark shape of a woman flying toward them. The woman was dark-haired, dark-skinned and full-bodied. A crown of flowers was braided into her hair and her flowing dress reminded Emrys of a fall harvest festival, all bright orange and brown.

    ¡°The goddess of the harvest,¡± Emrys whispered. ¡°She must be the patron goddess of Sonora.¡±

    ¡°Or one of her representatives, anyway. Keep your wits about you. She¡¯ll be looking to duel one of you, and I won¡¯t be able to place the second flower until you¡¯ve defeated her.¡±

    The woman approached. She was barefoot, Emrys noticed.

    ¡°I am Belshava, representative of the goddess of the harvest. Who stands against me as your champion?¡±

    ¡°Just a representative?¡± Greg hollered. ¡°Is that the best she can do?¡±

    Belshava smirked. ¡°The Unknown God does not have many followers to choose from. To defend this land herself would be¡­ unsporting.¡±

    ¡°My champions stand before you.¡±

    Belshava reached into the ground and withdrew a scythe. The blade glinted dangerously in the sunlight.

    ¡°Zereh, maybe you should take this one?¡±

    The warrior advanced. ¡°How do we start? Is there a countdown, or what?¡±

    ¡°Like this.¡± Belshava drew back her scythe and charged. She held the blade low to the ground like she was cutting wheat.

    Zereh leaped over the weapon and swung one of her swords as Belshava passed. It was a near thing, but the tip of her blade cut a line across the woman¡¯s back.

    Belshava slid to a stop and pivoted, gouging a deep furrow into the earth.

    ¡°Not bad,¡± she acknowledged with a wild grin.

    Zereh dipped her head in return. She gripped her two blades and darted forward. Every step was light, every movement looked choreographed. In that moment, she demonstrated what is meant to be a warrior.

    Belshava was slower than Zereh, but she had been dueling for centuries to guard her goddesses¡¯ lands. She held her scythe steady and at just the right moment swung up and out..

    Zereh was able to avoid the blade, but the long handle caught her shin when she was mid-leap. She was knocked off balance and went tumbling into the field.

    No sooner had she hit the earth than the tall grass began to rise, twisting around her limbs to keep her down. The thin strands dug tightly into the skin of her thighs.

    Her swords were too long to use against the grass. While she still had the use of her arms, Zereh dropped one of her swords and pulled a dagger from a sheath on her hip. She cut herself free of the grass, over and over until it slumped back, lifeless once more.

    Belshava was breathing heavily. The induced life spell she had used had taken a lot out of her, and it would be sometime before she could cast it again.

    Zereh triggered one of her own combat skills. She leapt to her feet and dashed to her opponent, so quickly that Emrys lost sight of her for a moment. One second she was lying in the dirt, and the next she was landing a blow that sent Belshava staggering back.

    The divine representative lifted both her hands to the sky enchanted unintelligibly. Thick, dark clouds began to gather in the sky.

    Zereh did not let the opportunity go to waste. She rushed her opponent and started slashing, hitting her directly in the chest over and over again.

    Belshava was visibly weakening, but she continued to chant, speaking faster and faster the longer Zereh attacked.

    Lightning crackled in the clouds, and Emrys could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Belshava lowered her arms and all at once the heavens opened up. Water poured down from the sky and sheets, so thick that he lost sight of the battlefield entirely.

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    Zereh was buffeted back by the heavy rain, momentarily knocked off balance. But she knew that despite the occasional spellcasting, Belshava was a melee fighter at heart. She would have been smart to rely on the heavy scythe from the start, rather than delving into magic that she was obviously less comfortable with.

    Zereh let loose a wild yell and charged. She would find Belshava, or Belshava would find her. Either way, she had done enough damage while Belshava was motionless that even the torrential downpour wouldn¡¯t be enough to tip the scales.

    Emrys squinted into the storm. He was itching to jump in there with her but Greg had placed a restraining hand on his arm.

    ¡°You care about her, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Emrys shot him a sideways glance.¡± Of course. She¡¯s my party leader.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Greg drew the word out like he was tasting it. ¡°There¡¯s more to it than that.¡±

    Emrys pulled his arm away from the old man¡¯s grass. He got the uncomfortable sense that Greg was paying more attention to him than to Zereh¡¯s deathmatch.

    ¡°She saved my life in a dungeon,¡± he said. ¡°And now she¡¯s helping me look for my best friend.¡± He kept his eyes focused on the spot where he¡¯d last seen her willing the clouds to part.

    Greg leaned back. ¡°That¡¯s all it is then? She does things for you and you like that?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not all it is,¡± the mage admitted. ¡°She¡¯s tough, you know? Strong. I need her way more than she needs me. But every now and then she lets me in a little, and I see her. I see the smile behind the eyes, just a hint of teasing. I see a woman who wants connection so badly that she hides from it.¡±

    A loud crack reverberated through the air, like a sequoia tumbling to the forest floor: one big snap followed by an enormous, drawn-out crash.

    Emrys searched the sky for evidence of lightning, even knowing that would have been the wrong order of operations. But as he watched, the rain slowed and the storm clouds cleared. Left in the field was Zereh, wounded but victorious, over the motionless body of Belshava.

    He let out a whoop and punched the air.

    She grinned weakly. ¡°You¡¯ve got the next one,¡± she said. ¡°That took a lot out of me.¡±

    Greg gave them a moment to settle down from the fight. ¡°Are you ready for me to place the next flower?¡±

    Emrys swallowed. The fireball in his palm flickered so quickly it looked steady.

    ¡°Sonora is a farming town, blessed by the goddess of harvest. The goddess sent Belshava as her champion. I understand that. But, Westover doesn¡¯t have a patron god. Who will be coming to its defense?¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Every inch of this world is claimed by a spirit or deity. They cannot abide a vacuum. Regardless of if it has made itself known, there is an entity that considers Westover and the surrounding lands as its territory.¡±

    ¡°So it could be anything.¡±

    ¡°Within reason,¡± said Greg. ¡°Spirits are drawn to places that match their nature.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Zereh chimed in. ¡°You¡¯ve been adventuring in Westover since you were a kid, I¡¯m sure the spirit is not too different.¡±

    Emrys chuckled at that, bolstered by the encouragement. She was right, he had been throwing himself against dangerous opponents since he first got his magic. More importantly, she was looking at him with total confidence. If she believed in him, he could do anything.

    The arcanist squared his shoulders and stepped out into the field. ¡°I¡¯m ready,¡± he said.

    Greg threaded the second Midnight Silk into the altar. Just as the first had done, the second flower glowed bright enough to illuminate the nearby carvings. A bright white line connected the two blossoms.

    Emrys prepared a second fireball. It wasn¡¯t his strongest spell, but it was his most reliable.

    ¡°I think I see it!¡± Zereh shaded her eyes. Sure enough, a shadowed figure was flying in from the west.

    ¡°Is that a bird?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a plane!¡± Zereh cackled.

    Greg laughed.

    ¡°A what? No, it is a bird.¡± Emrys thought it looked like a hawk, the kind that he had often seen flying over the ravine. If it was the same, its tail feathers would be red.

    Only he had never seen a hawk quite so large. As the bird approached it blotted out the sun with its wings. It circled above several times before finally landing in front of them.

    At the site of the enormous hawk before him, the pieces clicked into place. Westover had never worshiped any gods or harbored so much as a shrine to a minor deity, but there had always been tales of a red-tailed hawk that protected the ravine. There were travelers who swore the hawk had rescued them when they lost their way. One even claimed to have slipped off a cliff, only to be caught and carried to safety by an impossibly large bird. Tobias, they called him.

    Emrys gulped. He barely came up to the hawk¡¯s shoulders, and its puffed out chest was three times his own width.

    The hawk screeched, an ear-splitting cry that made Emrys wince. When he looked up again, the hawk had transformed into a man. He had brown hair with red tips, and his eyes held the same piercing gaze that he¡¯d had as a hawk. His body was only protected by simple leather armor, but Emryssuspected illusion magic was at work. As a man, the spirit had an ethereal, almost translucent quality.

    The man knelt. ¡°My Lord,¡± he said, bowing his head to Greg. ¡°This one humbly requests to defend this territory.¡±

    Greg looked startled, then resigned. ¡°You recognize me, then?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my lord. This one claimed these lands long ago, even before the lesser gods entered the world. It would be the height of disrespect to forget your eminence¡¯s visage.¡±

    Greg smiled ruefully. ¡°And yet, most have forgotten. Although I must admit I have had a hand in that myself.¡± He shook himself. ¡°But more importantly, I do grant your request. My champion stands before you.¡± He gestured to Emrys.

    ¡°Hold on a second,¡± Emrys objected. ¡°What is he talking about? Who are you?¡±

    But Tobias had already shifted back into his hawk form and taken to the skies.

    The arcanist shot both fireballs. Tobias was able to dodge the first, but the second singed his wing. The hawk shrieked in frustration.

    Emrys crouched. The valley had turned to a thick mud during Zereh¡¯s fight. It gave him an unpleasant flashback to the bogs, but he shoved that thought away. He refused to let his environment hamper his spellcasting.

    He cast fireballs as quickly as a thought, caring more for speed and accuracy than power. With Tobias able to evade so many of the projectiles, he was more likely to do damage with quantity over quality.

    The hawk circled furiously, pushed higher by the endless barrage of fireballs. It was more damaging than if Emrys had used a stronger spell like Firestorm, in a way, because Firestorm would have been chained to its initial location. By just using fireball, and by casting it with incredible proficiency, he took a basic attack and made it his most versatile.

    Emrys was steadily weakening his opponent and taking no damage in return. If the hawk wanted to turn the tables, he would have to change his strategy.

    All at once Emrys¡¯s target shrunk to a pinpoint. Tobias pulled his wings tight against his body and aimed straight down at the arcanist.

    He dove.

 Ch17 Quest Rewards

    More of Emrys¡¯s fireballs began to miss their mark. His heart hammered in his chest at the sight of the enormous bird angling straight toward him. Most likely Tobias was planning to pull up before impact, but the possibility remained that the spirit intended a full body strike. He probably had enough strength left to survive the impact, whereas Emrys would be absolutely brutalized by the strike.

    The fire mage ceased the barrage of fireballs to instead draw together a swirling shield of fire. He focused The fire directly above his head both empowering the flames and thickening the shield.

    Tobias might be willing to risk the impact to the ground, but would he feel the same if it also involved penetrating a barrier of flame?

    The hawk spread his wings and canceled his descent. Emrys¡¯s shield was pushed down by the sudden wind, but a mage couldn¡¯t be hurt by his own fire.

    Before the hawk could fly too far away again, Emrys grabbed hold of his fire shield and threw it at the bird. It spun like a frisbee and caught Tobias straight in the chest.

    The hawk let out a soul-wrenching shriek. Emma screamed and clutched his ears. There was magic in that screech, an aural attack that couldn¡¯t be blocked by mere fire.

    If he wanted to stay ahead in this fight, he would have to unleash a bigger spell. Firestorm was something he¡¯d only cast a handful of times. He tended to prefer strengthening his favorite spells, finding different ways to modify them so they could become the best option in any scenario.

    But Firestorm just didn¡¯t have the option for modification, at least not in any appreciable way. It was a beefy, localized attack, for all that it had a wide area of effect.

    He didn¡¯t like it. But it was the best option for the moment.

    He began to cast.

    Tobias had slunk away both to lick his wounds and to work on his own next spell. Even as he drew together his own fire magic, Emrys could feel the coalescence of air mana around the hawk.

    The blessing and the curse of mage battles, Emrys thought, was that they would have the opportunity to cast a greater spell, but in doing so they gave their opponent the chance to do the same.

    What it came down to was speed, and Emrys drew fire in the same way he drew breath.

    The hawk was circling in the air above him, and suddenly that air was filled with fire. He shrieked and dodged out of the way, but the rain of fire blinded him in those first moments. He dodged in exactly the wrong direction and flew through the entire storm, shrieking all the way.

    Tobias gathered the last of the air mana that he needed for his spell. Once he was directly overhead, he flapped his wings to release a powerful gust of wind.

    Emrys tried to run off to the side, but he was too slow to evade the wide attack. The gust knocked him flat on his back.

    Tobias descended like an angel of death. His wings were spread wide and his talents were splayed out to eviscerate the mage.

    ¡°Get up!¡± Zereh screamed. ¡°Get out of the way!¡±

    But there wasn¡¯t time. He was still scrambling to his feet and Tobias was fast approaching.

    ¡°You care about him, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Seriously?¡± Zereh snapped. ¡°You¡¯re asking that right now?¡±

    The moment Tobias¡¯s talons connected with Emrys¡¯s body, a golden shield engulfed him. Tobias scrabbled against it but the shield was impenetrable.

    Emrys dug a gold coin out of his pocket. It was embossed by the goddess of protection¡¯s sigil. The crossed swords glowed with the same golden light of the shield.

    He slumped to the ground. The coin¡¯s ability would recharge, but not for another 24 hours. If he got hit again, he was a goner.

    The problem was the wings. Tobias was so agile and had infinitely more maneuverability in the air than Emrys did on the ground. He needed a way to eliminate that advantage .

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    He curled his fingers into the wet grass. The coin wasn¡¯t the only thing he¡¯d gotten from the dungeon. He was still wearing the ring that enhanced his proficiency with water and earth.

    He sank into the feeling he¡¯d had in the dungeon, when an unseen force was pulling him into the water. Once he¡¯d given in to the force, he¡¯d understood it was the dungeon¡¯s intent exerting its influence rather than a physical being. This time, he wasn¡¯t looking for a dungeon. He was hoping to get that feeling from the universe. His friend.

    His friend who would definitely help him not die in the next five minutes.

    Emrys imagined all the water left over from Zereh¡¯s fight being pulled out of the ground and into the air. Humidity so thick that it condensed on Tobias¡¯s wings, weighing him down and dragging him to earth.

    He imagined it, and he asked for it. Begged for it.

    It was risky to use a new spell in a fight. Downright dangerous, really. Old man Winter would have his head if he knew he was not only using a new spell, but a massive new spell in a completely new element.

    But it didn¡¯t feel like a spell. He wasn¡¯t using his own mana to draw the magic into place. It felt like a conversation. He asked for water, and the universe told him he could only use rainwater in the field. He asked for it to pool into a giant sphere of liquid and was told it would have to take the form of heavy humidity instead. He asked that it condense on the hawk¡¯s wings and was answered by what felt like a sarcastic, ¡°Obviously.¡±

    Just like that, Tobias was struggling to fly. The beat of his wings grew sluggish and strained.

    Emrys rubbed his eyes like he was waking up. Tobias was distracted by the humidity, not quite failing to stay airborne, but knowing he ought to land before it became more of a problem. He was moving slower, and that would make all the difference.

    Without worrying his attacks would miss, Emrys was able to heat them to their maximum potential. White hot fireballs landed one after another, each one a direct hit.

    The hawk¡¯s strength finally gave out. The beast fell steaming down to earth.

    Emrys sank to his knees. It was over. It was done.

    He had defeated the spirit of Westover.

    Zereh cheered.

    Emrys locked eyes with her and grinned. It was done. The hard part was over and they were ready to complete the altar.

    ¡°That was amazing,¡± Zereh said when he rejoined them. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you knew anything besides fire spells.¡±

    ¡°I really don¡¯t,¡± Emrys shrugged, a little embarrassed. ¡°I mean I know a small healing spell for emergencies. But this was just something I came up with in the moment.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even know that was possible.¡±

    ¡°For most people, it isn¡¯t.¡± Greg peered at Emrys. ¡°Why is it possible for you?¡±

    The arcanist shrunk into himself. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Hey. How about you put in that third flower?¡± Zereh stepped forward, slightly in front of Emrys.

    Greg forced a smile. ¡°Of course.¡±

    He threaded the third Midnight Silk into the shrine. It gleamed white, and two white lines connected it to the other flowers. The light of the triangle flowed down over the entire altar, trickling through the carvings until it was all aglow.

    ¡°Well. There it is. The shrine to the Unknown God is complete.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going to happen now? Is he going to do anything here, now that the territory is his?¡±

    ¡°Probably not,¡± said Greg. ¡°He doesn¡¯t do much. Prefers more to fade into obscurity.¡±

    ¡°Why did you do this, then? Why pick a fight with two local deities in the middle of nowhere, if the Unknown God doesn¡¯t even care?¡±

    Greg pulled a case of ale out of his bag. He passed a bottle to Emrys and Zereh each and set the rest on the altar. ¡°It seemed like the thing to do.¡±

    Zereh popped the cap off of her bottle and took a sip. Her eyes widened. It was a powerful brew, refreshing health, stamina and mana all at once.

    ¡°Who exactly are you?¡± she asked. ¡°I know you¡¯re not, you know, from around here. And most people I know wouldn¡¯t be able to organize a quest like this.¡±

    ¡°What gave me away?¡±

    ¡°You laughed at my superman joke.¡±

    ¡°Ah. My kryptonite.¡± Greg shook his head. ¡°My friends call me Craig.¡±

    She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Do your friends know your last name, too?¡±

    ¡°Owens.¡±

    ¡°Shut up, you are not.¡±

    Greg shrugged. ¡°Believe me or don¡¯t, it¡¯s all the same to me.¡±

    ¡°But why? Is this normal for you, to wander around and interact with the world?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± He looked suddenly serious. ¡°The truth is, I was hoping to meet you specifically. Well, not you. Him.¡± The old man nodded toward Emrys.

    The arcanist stiffened. ¡°Do I know you?¡±

    ¡°No. But I know Fiordna. She told me quite a story about you.¡±

    This, Emrys thought, was the exact reason nobody except immortals should meddle in the affairs of gods. Once they had you in their grasp they never, ever let go.

    ¡°Who¡¯s Fiordna?¡± Zereh asked.

    ¡°The goddess of prophecy,¡± Emrys muttered. ¡°She doesn¡¯t like me much.¡±

    ¡°I just wanted to meet you, is all,¡± said Greg. ¡°And now I have, I must say I¡¯m impressed. I don¡¯t know anyone who could have pulled off a stunt like that.¡± He finished his beer. ¡°Keep an eye on this one,¡± he said to Zereh. ¡°He¡¯s special.¡±

    ¡°Now hold on.¡± Zereh motioned for him to sit back down. ¡°We finished your quest, shouldn¡¯t you be giving us a reward? I¡¯ve been patient, but I can¡¯t just let you leave.¡±

    ¡°Ah! Of course, my apologies.¡± The old man patted his pockets down, frowning heavily as he did. ¡°I really should have planned something out.¡±

    Zereh just folded her arms and waited. There was no mercy in her gaze.

    ¡°Here we go. This ought to be suitable.¡± With no more ceremony than that, he handed her a flower pot. It was a nice flower pot, made of plain terracotta with no ceramic glaze, with a round shape, tapering inwards.

    Zereh took it uncertainly. ¡°Thank¡­you?¡±

    Greg winked. ¡°It¡¯s a dungeon core. Fill it up with dirt and an intact mana root, and you can grow your very own dungeon.¡±

    Zereh¡¯s eyes widened, and she tucked it quickly into her bag. ¡°Thank you.¡± Her eyes flicked to Emrys, who had gone completely still. ¡°Not that we¡¯ll use it,¡± she said. ¡°But thank you.¡±

 Ch18 Sonora

    ¡°We¡¯re almost there.¡±

    The journey from Westover to Sonora was a short one. As Emrys had suspected, it took them longer to complete Greg¡¯s quest than to complete their journey.

    Zereh squinted. ¡°Where? I don¡¯t see anything except that old shed.¡±

    ¡°Right, that¡¯s the edge of town. You can make out some of the farmhouses further out, see?¡± He pointed.

    Zereh turned slowly. ¡°The edge of town is an old shed? What kind of place is this?¡±

    ¡°Oh come on,¡± Emrys objected. ¡°This isn¡¯t just any old shed. In fact¡­¡± He skipped over to it. The gray wooden panels were weather-beaten and worn. Time had bored holes and cracks into the thin planks until they were held up by no more than hope and shoestring.

    The door hung at an angle, held up more by the padlock than the hinges. Emrys pulled a couple tools out of his pocket and set to work picking the lock. ¡°There¡¯s a new lock. He¡¯s been here recently.¡±

    Zereh watched, faintly amused. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were the type to learn lockpicking.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a game between Sven and I. Every time we come here we put a new lock on it.¡± The arcanist blushed. ¡°It was his idea.¡±

    ¡°I could just pull the door off, if you like.¡±

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t. It¡¯s warded against immortals.¡± He waggled his eyebrows, and for a moment the warrior wasn¡¯t certain if he was joking. ¡°Besides,¡± he added. ¡°If that¡¯s the way you get in, you don¡¯t deserve what you find.¡±

    She put her hands up in mock surrender.

    ¡°Aha!¡± The lock snapped free with a satisfying click, and the door swung open. There was a painful creak of the hinges, and the door fell off entirely.

    Zereh stifled a giggle.

    ¡°We used to come out here, when we were boys,¡± said Emrys. ¡°Nobody ever used this shed, so we made it ours. Look.¡± He held up something that could uncharitably be called an old stick, but which had clearly been decorated as a wand. Yellow ribbon was tied to the end, and amateur hands had carved the edges with symbols that probably looked magical if you didn¡¯t know anything about magic.

    Makeshift cloaks hung from half-bent nails three or four feet high. They were patchwork things, made of old towels and scraps, but they had the look of something well loved.

    Emrys pulled one off and wrapped it around his shoulders. It was far too small to fasten, so he held it around his neck as far as it would go. The cloak was a mix of blues with a poorly sewn design of wings on either side.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± he asked with childish pride.

    ¡°It¡¯s cute.¡± Looking around the shed, she noticed there were cloaks designed for each of the major elements. ¡°What brought you all the way out here? Why not play in Westover?¡±

    ¡°Sven¡¯s mother used to send us out here to help with chores around town. Not many people live around here, and a lot of those who do are elderly.¡± He set the cloak back on the makeshift hook. ¡°When we didn¡¯t want to do chores, we came here instead.¡±

    ¡°You got away with that?¡±

    ¡°For a while,¡± Emrys laughed. ¡°Eventually she found out we weren¡¯t showing up where we were supposed to, and she sent someone after us. That¡¯s how Sven met Stephanie, actually.¡±

    Zereh pocketed one of the toy wands. ¡°They¡¯ve been together a long time, then? I mean they were, before she¡­died.¡±

    The arcanist bit his lip. ¡°Sort of. They didn¡¯t get along right away, you know? But then one day, I realized he was spending more time with her than he was with me.¡±

    ¡°That sounds about right.¡± She edged her way out of the old shed. ¡°Come on. Unless they¡¯re anything of importance here?¡±

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    Emrys took one last look around, and his gaze landed on a scrap of paper on the floor. ¡°He was here!¡± He handed the paper to Zereh. ¡°This matches the runes we found in his bedroom. Remember the torn piece? I bet this is the other half.¡±

    ¡°Excellent! We¡¯re on the right track. Let¡¯s keep going.¡±

    The two adventurers left the shed behind, not bothering to reattach the door. There wasn¡¯t anything valuable in there, nothing worth taking. No reason to lock it back up.

    But as they closed in on the farms of Sonora, Emrys couldn¡¯t help but think it had been too long since he¡¯d visited that shed. Too long since he¡¯d gone to Sonora with his best friend.

    It was entirely possible he was¡­a bad friend. He¡¯d drifted from Sven so slowly over time that he hadn¡¯t even noticed it happening. Their visits together had grown fewer and farther between, their conversations shallower.

    In fairness, Sven had let it happen too. If anything, Emrys would have expected¡­well. It didn¡¯t matter now. He¡¯d bring his friend home, and he would fix things. Whatever it took.

    His head rose, his eyes filled with grim determination¨Conly to see Zereh staring at him with an odd look on her face.

    ¡°What¡¯s on your mind?¡± he asked.

    She pursed her lips. ¡°You¡¯ve had a full life here, haven¡¯t you?¡±

    The arcanist raised an eyebrow. ¡°No more than anyone else, I suppose. Is that such a surprise?¡±

    Rather than answer, the warrior checked her swords. ¡°Be ready. I have a feeling that when we get close, the necromancer will send his forces against us.¡±

    A fireball flared to life. ¡°You think he knows we¡¯re coming?¡±

    Zereh shrugged. ¡°We haven¡¯t been subtle in our questioning. If he has spies anywhere, he¡¯ll know we¡¯re coming.¡±

    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t stay long, then. We¡¯ll find Stephanie¡¯s mom, ask if she¡¯s seen Sven.¡±

    There was a point near Main Street where the dirt road transitioned to cobblestones. Despite Emrys¡¯s insistence that the shed marked the edge of town, it was generally accepted that the real marker was the cobblestone street.

    The second Zereh set foot on the cobblestones, a cloud passed over the sun.

    Emrys glanced up. ¡°That¡¯s odd. Skies were clear just a moment ago.¡±

    Storm clouds were rolling in quickly overhead, replacing blue with gray.

    ¡°Everyone inside! Everyone get inside now!¡±

    Zereh and Emrys hurried toward the voice.

    ¡°What is it, what¡¯s happening?¡±

    The woman barely spared them a glance as she frantically shepherded a group of children into the school house.

    ¡°Storm¡¯s coming,¡± she snapped. ¡°They¡¯ve been getting bad around here lately, so I¡¯d suggest you go indoors. Jason! Jason, get in here right now!¡±

    A boy no more than six was watching them from across the street. ¡°I want to play in the puddles, Miss Mary,¡± he whined.

    The woman glared. ¡°Get in here now. Don¡¯t make me come after you.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± The boy ran off, his face turned up to catch the light rain that was already beginning to fall.

    ¡°Jason!¡± Mary stepped one foot out the door then stopped short. She looked back at the huddle of children behind her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, ma¡¯am,¡± said Zereh. ¡°We¡¯ll go after him.¡±

    Mary turned back to the adventurers. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said, and slammed the door.

    Emrys and Zereh shared a look.

    ¡°We¡¯d better hurry if we want to find him before this turns into a downpour.¡± Emrys held up a hand to catch the raindrops. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a storm come in this fast.¡±

    ¡°Right, then. He went this way.¡± Zereh strode quickly through town, ducking between buildings and weaving her way through town.

    ¡°Do you have a tracking spell on him?¡±

    ¡°A tracking¡­? Oh yes, something like that.¡± She stopped under a church. ¡°Jason!¡±

    A small head poked out from the other side of the bell tower. His hair was flattened and dripping wet. ¡°Go away!¡± he shouted.

    ¡°If you come back with us, I¡¯ll give you candy,¡± she offered. Water ran down her face and armor. The storm was picking up, and lightning crackled through the clouds.

    Emrys shivered. He had the feeling someone was controlling the storm, guiding it into Sonora again and again. The clouds were thick with swirling mana, constrained and itching to be released. It was even trickling into the rainwater ever so slightly. Without his ring he never would have noticed it, but with the boost to his water and earth affinity he could sense a whiff of mana in the raindrops.

    That much residual mana didn¡¯t happen naturally.

    A thick bolt of lightning slammed into the bell tower. Jason screamed. The boy curled into a tight ball, his head between his knees.

    Magic rippled outward from where the lightning struck, running down the church walls and into the earth. It was more mana than Emrys had ever seen outside of a dungeon, concentrating in pockets underground.

    An arm broke through the earth. Bony fingers scrabbled at the grass and dug furrows into the mud as the hand pulled up, dragging out the rest of its body.

    Emrys stared in horror. The creature was half decomposed, flesh barely hanging on to the skeletal frame. Ragged strips of leather served as meager armor.

    It reached out to the boy.

    Zereh stabbed it through the midsection, her sword easily piercing the leather. The bones rattled, but the creature didn¡¯t fall.

    Jason whimpered.

    Emrys shot a fireball at the zombie¡¯s head. Flame coated the exposed bone and seared the strips of decayed flesh. Its jaw hinged wide and the creature let out an awful screech. Black smoke wisped out of its mouth, and it collapsed into a pile of bone.

    ¡°Jason, get on my back.¡± Emrys knelt beside the boy so he could clamber up. Jason wrapped his arms around the arcanist¡¯s neck, and Emrys rose carefully. The boy was heavy, but they weren¡¯t far from the school.

    Zereh took the lead, swords at the ready. ¡°Where are they coming from?¡±

    ¡°Everywhere!¡±

 Ch19 Zombies

    Lightning lit up the sky and Emrys could see multiple lightning strikes across the city. Screams echoed through the streets. But there was no thunder.

    ¡°It¡¯s the necromancer, it has to be. What the hell does he want with Sonora?¡±

    Another zombie lurched into view, and Zereh cut off its head with one swing. The headless body continued to stumble toward them. With her second swing she cut from the neck down, splitting it in two.

    Jason buried his face in Emrys¡¯s neck. The boy was shaking.

    ¡°How much further?¡± Emrys asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost there. But¡­there¡¯s so many of them.¡± The zombies were individually weak, but already a huge crowd of them were walking the streets. Everywhere the lightning struck, the zombies rose.

    The arcanist held Jason steady with one arm and freed the other to form a fireball. Steam rose around it where the rain fell, and Emrys felt the strain of holding onto fire in a rainstorm.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to be much help,¡± he said. ¡°My fireballs are weakened, and if I use any of my stronger spells I risk damaging the town.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡± Zereh readjusted her grip on her swords. ¡°If I cut them in half, they stop moving.¡±

    The two nodded and crossed the street toward the undead. They noticed the newcomers immediately and came stumbling towards them. They moaned unintelligibly. It shouldn¡¯t have meant anything, but it was enough to catch the attention of the other creatures nearby.

    Zereh flashed through the group, cutting several of them in the midsection with one swing. Her sword glowed yellow; she was using a skill,

    Four zombies fell apart. Six more were still incoming.

    Emrys threw fireballs at the downed zombies to ensure they were dead. Again he heard that terrible screech as black smoke rose up from their skulls.

    They continued on like that. Zereh leaped ahead to cut them down, and Emrys followed more slowly to finish them off.

    At long last, they reached the school house.

    The door was barred.

    ¡°Mary! We¡¯ve got Jason, let us in!¡± Zereh pounded on the door.

    Moments later, the door opened. Zereh and Emrys rushed inside, and Jason was passed to Mary. He clung to her. She stroked the boy¡¯s head.

    ¡°Maybe next time you¡¯ll listen to me, hmm?¡±

    Jason nodded tearfully. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ll never run out ever again.¡±

    Zereh shifted uncomfortably. ¡°We¡¯d better get going. Those monsters are all through town.¡±

    ¡°Here. Take this, for your trouble.¡± Mary handed Zereh a small pouch of coins.

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    Emrys poked his head out the door before stepping out and motioning Zereh to follow. The street was clear, but they could hear the sounds of fighting.

    ¡°We have to help,¡± Emrys said. ¡°These people are farmers, they¡¯re not equipped to fight monsters like this.¡±

    ¡°No. We have to stay on track. We came to Sonora for a reason.¡±

    ¡°You want to go after Stephanie¡¯s mom? Now?¡±

    ¡°No better time,¡± she said. ¡°Just think how embarrassed you¡¯ll be if we go around playing hero and she ends up killed by the zombies.¡±

    Emrys felt sick. He wasn¡¯t sure he agreed with that logic, but either way they had to hurry and he knew how stubborn she could be.

    ¡°Fine. She¡¯s not far from here.¡±

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    He followed Zereh and wondered again how she seemed to always know where to go. He hadn¡¯t noticed her cast any sort of tracking spell, but she never hesitated, despite never having been to Sonora before.

    ¡°Hah! Stay back, devil!¡± A young farmer was fending off a pair of zombies with a pitchfork. They were pushing him up against the wall of a barn, and his jabs with the pitchfork were hardly scratching them.

    Emrys shot two fireballs one after another. The rain weakened the spell so it wasn¡¯t enough to stop them, but they turned their attention to the arcanist.

    The farmer plunged his pitchfork into the creature¡¯s back and twisted. There was a gruesome squelch followed by the eerie screech, and the undead collapsed.

    Emrys knocked out the other with two more fireballs.

    ¡°Get inside!¡± he shouted.

    The farmer nodded. He turned to run but was stopped by another creature. It was bigger than the zombies and looked sturdier. Its bones were bigger, and the flesh of its body was more put together. Its features were distended, like someone had combined two or three bodies and not bothered to maintain the proportions.

    The farmer yelled and backed up. The revenant picked him up and raised him high overhead.

    ¡°No!¡± Emrys fired off a few spells, but they barely even singed the undead beast.

    Zereh leaped in with a swing of her sword, only to miss entirely as the revenant easily side-stepped her attack. It was faster than the zombies, and it had no interest in engaging with her.

    The farmer beat his hands against the creature¡¯s skull, but it barely noticed.

    The bones of its jaw rattled. ¡°This one is miine,¡± it rasped.

    ¡°Not today.¡± Zereh lunged, but again the creature dodged and refused to engage. It kept backing away until finally it turned and fled.

    ¡°Brandon!¡±

    Zereh held Emrys back. ¡°Let him go! There are other people here who need you, people we can actually help.¡±

    Emrys ran a frustrated hand through his sopping wet hair and let out a guttural cry. ¡°Fine. Fine! We still have to check on Ms. Turner.¡±

    He followed Zereh through town to what he still thought of as Stephanie¡¯s house.

    ¡°This is the place, right?¡±

    Emrys nodded.

    The small house was entirely surrounded by undead, all moaning and banging their hands against the walls. He thanked the gods that they were all the weaker, killable type.

    A perfect opportunity to vent his rage.

    It only took two fireballs for the monsters to turn their attention to the newcomers. Zereh swept through them like an avenging angel. For the first time, Emrys noted that aside from water running down her armor, the warrior was otherwise untouched by the rain. Her hair looked just the same as it always had, complete with a perfect lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail to frame her face.

    ¡°A little more firepower, please!¡±

    Emrys shook himself. Focus.

    If he didn¡¯t finish them off with a fireball after she cut them down, the bones would rattle and start to merge back together, like some sort of sick regeneration. In his moment of distraction, one zombie had managed to right itself enough to slash at Zereh¡¯s ankles. The damage was slowing her footwork, and without him she would have been overrun.

    Emrys cast fireballs as quickly as he could while aiming carefully to minimize collateral damage. One by one they let out that horrific screech that signaled their death, until finally they were all defeated.

    As the last one fell, the rain at last began to slow.

    Zereh rapped on the door. ¡°You okay in there? We¡¯ve taken care of the undead.¡±

    There was the sound of movement inside, and the door creaked open just wide enough for one terrified eye to look out.

    ¡°Ms Turner?¡± Zereh asked. ¡°We¡¯re here to help.¡±

    The woman¡¯s gaze softened when she noticed Emrys, and she opened the door wider. ¡°You can call me Tiffany,¡± she said. ¡°Come inside.¡±

    The two hurried indoors, and Tiffany shut the door firmly behind them. The house was modestly decorated with handmade furniture. At the center of the room was a large fireplace that was already crackling merrily. It brought some comfort in an otherwise bleak situation.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Emrys asked. ¡°Did they hurt you?¡±

    Tiffany rubbed her arms. ¡°I¡¯m okay. They weren¡¯t able to get inside. Thank you for taking care of them. I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d have done on my own.¡±

    ¡°You did great.¡±

    Zereh cleared her throat. ¡°We were actually on our way to see you for a different reason. Forgive me for being abrupt, but have you seen Sven? We¡¯re worried he was taken by the necromancer, and if today¡¯s events are anything to go by, I¡¯d say the sooner we find him the better.¡±

    Tiffany¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Oh, that poor boy. Yes, he was here last week. Stephanie¡¯s death really did a number on him, you know. I don¡¯t know that he¡¯ll ever get past it.¡±

    ¡°Did he say anything about where he was going, or what he was planning?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± The woman shook her head. ¡°He didn¡¯t look well at all. I do hope you find him. He kept going on about how things went wrong and who was responsible. It was just an accident, a horrible accident, but he was looking for someone to blame. You should talk to the Wardlaw boys. They were with Stephanie that night, so if Sven was investigating, he would have talked to them too.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for your time.¡± Zereh stood. ¡°It looks like the storm has cleared, so you should be safe now.¡±

    Emrys hesitated at the door, but followed her out.

    ¡°I hate to leave her like that,¡± he said.

    ¡°I know, but we can¡¯t do anything for her. It¡¯s safe to say the necromancer caused that storm, and he took that farmer. If he¡¯s kidnapping people, I want to know why.¡±

    ¡°Maybe Sven went looking for him. He thought Stephanie¡¯s death wasn¡¯t an accident¡­ Maybe he thought the necromancer caused it, and went after him.¡±

    Zereh shrugged. ¡°It fits. We should see if anyone else was taken. There might be some sort of pattern there. Let¡¯s talk to the Wardlaws first.¡±

    Sunlight broke through the clouds, and in moments the sky was as clear as it had been that morning. As quickly as it had begun, the storm was over.

 Ch20 Necromancer

    The sound of cheering drew Emrys and Zereh out to the school yard. The whole town had gathered, it seemed. The children were released from their temporary captivity and had already started playing some sort of zombie game. Even Jason had joined the fun and was running around moaning for brainz.

    ¡°This is kind of nice,¡± Emrys said. He stood taller, shoulders back. Clearing dungeons never earned him this sort of recognition.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think this is for us.¡± Zereh pointed.

    Several farmers were marching down the streets with a paladin hoisted onto their shoulders. His steel armor was painted white and gold, so bright it was hard to look directly at him.

    ¡°Who the heck is that?¡± Emrys scowled at the interloper.

    ¡°Sarah, is that you?¡± The knight motioned to the farmers to let him down and strode over to the two adventurers.

    ¡°Brayden?¡±

    ¡°You know this guy?¡± The man reeked of immortal arrogance. Emrys had grown accustomed to Zereh¡¯s more down to earth attitude, but the paladin¡¯s swagger reminded the arcanist of every negative encounter he¡¯d had with an immortal. Here was a man who considered himself above the law, who didn¡¯t see mortals as people worthy of genuine respect.

    ¡°It is you! You look the same, but hot! That¡¯s so funny.¡± The knight pulled the warrior into a quick hug and kept his arm around her shoulders when they parted. ¡°You won¡¯t believe this. I teleported into town and there were all these zombies running around. So I start swinging, you know, and I¡¯m so strong I can knock ¡®em out with one hit. Next thing I know, I¡¯m some sort of hero to these people. ¡±

    ¡°I go by Zereh here, actually.¡±

    He nodded vaguely. ¡°What do you think of my gear? I bought it off a total nerd who¡¯s been working on the character since the beta¨C¡±

    ¡°Brayden! Stop. There are certain things you can¡¯t say here, remember? Or you¡¯ll be forced out.¡±

    The paladin rolled his eyes. ¡°Right, almost forgot. Big Brother is watching.¡± He wiggled his fingers in front of Zereh¡¯s face.

    Emrys cleared his throat. ¡°Who are you, exactly? How do you two know each other?¡±

    Brayden looked Emrys over and smiled, slow and predatory. ¡°Sarah, you didn¡¯t tell me you already had a boyfriend here. He¡¯s cute.¡± He reached out to ruffle Emrys¡¯s hair. The arcanist jerked back out of the way.

    Zereh sighed. ¡°Brayden, this is Emrys. He¡¯s an arcanist with a specialty in fire magic, and he¡¯s been helping me on this quest.¡±

    ¡°Oh yeah! We¡¯re looking for the necromancer, right? The one who sent all those skellies? That¡¯s so cool, it¡¯s like a scavenger hunt.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re looking for my friend,¡± Emrys corrected.

    ¡°Who¡¯s probably been taken by the necromancer, but yes. We were told to ask the Wardlaw boys if they¡¯ve seen him.¡±

    ¡°Oh cool, cool. I¡¯ll ask my girl Mary, she knows everyone.¡± Hecaught Mary¡¯s eye and waved her over. ¡°Where can I find the Warden boys?¡±

    ¡°Wardlaw,¡± Zereh corrected.

    Brayden nodded. ¡°Yeah, them.¡±

    The woman¡¯s pinched face softened when she looked at the knight. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I haven¡¯t seen them. Hey Dylan, have you seen the Wardlaw boys?¡±

    A burly man stopped on his way past the group. ¡°Who¡¯s asking?¡± He wrapped a bandage over a nasty cut on his arm. The man had the muscles of a blacksmith and the scowl of a man who didn¡¯t want to be bothered.

    Brayden held out a hand. ¡°The name¡¯s Brayden. I¡¯m the one who cleared out your little zombie problem.¡±

    The blacksmith warily shook his hand. When they touched, a green spark of healing magic jumped from Brayden¡¯s fingers, along the blacksmith¡¯s arm, to the bandaged wound.

    Brayden winked.

    ¡°Should¡¯ve got here sooner,¡± Dylan grunted. ¡°Wardlaw boys were taken by one of them big ¡®uns. Not just him, neither. From what I can tell, there¡¯s at least three people been taken.¡±

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    ¡°Well! Looks like we¡¯re going after the necromancer after all, then.¡± Brayden eagerly rubbed his hands together. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose there¡¯d be a reward for bringing them home?¡±

    Darryl nodded slowly. ¡°The town could put something together for you.¡±

    ¡°Only one problem,¡± said Emrys. ¡°We don¡¯t have any way to find the necromancer.¡±

    ¡°There must be a clue somewhere, some way to piece together where he¡¯d have set up his base.¡± Zereh turned to Emrys. ¡°Do you still have that rune Sven left behind?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but I don¡¯t think¨C¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t we just follow that guy?¡± Brayden interrupted.

    At the edge of town, limping away, was what looked to be the last undead survivor.

    ¡°That¡­could work,¡± Zereh admitted.

    ¡°I saw him when the guys were carrying me through town. For my parade.¡± Brayden ginned. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be good at this game, but it¡¯s my first day and I¡¯m already doing better than you.¡±

    Zereh¡¯s smile was brittle. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing you¡¯re here.¡±

    Emrys felt the shift when Zereh added the paladin to their party. The man was stronger than anyone he¡¯d ever met. He had effortlessly healed the blacksmith, and there was something about him that put all the villagers under his spell.

    Emrys wasn¡¯t immune to it, either. He could sense it at the back of his mind. Trust. Attraction. He wanted to trust Brayden, to help him.

    If it wasn¡¯t for the way he talked to Zereh, he would likely be as besotted with the paladin as Mary was.

    But Zereh looked at Brayden with poorly masked fear in her eyes. If anyone else talked to her the way Brayden did, Zereh would beat them to a pulp, Emrys was sure. But with him, she laughed and went along with it.

    He kicked the dirt. The undead creature was leading them into the woods, winding its way between the trees. Up ahead, Zereh laughed at something Brayden was saying and touched his arm.

    On the other hand, it was entirely possible that Emrys was looking for something that wasn¡¯t there, some reason to hate Brayden out of jealousy.

    Not that he had any reason to be jealous.

    But if he did, it would make a certain amount of sense. There was no other reason to dislike the paladin. He was a good man, and he¡¯d saved Sonora from the undead almost single handedly. Not to mention, she might be better off teaming up with a fellow immortal than she was with him.

    Emrys grimaced. There it was again. That feeling of trust and admiration. As the shadows deepened and the wind chilled, the paladin¡¯s shining armor became a comforting sight. He would protect the group.

    The shuffling undead moaned. The sound of it echoed eerily through the woods.

    Emrys sped up to be closer to Brayden and Zereh.

    ¡°¡­and that¡¯s what set me up to do so well as vice chair of dad¡¯s company. People say, ¡®oh he doesn¡¯t have any experience¡¯ or ¡®that kid doesn¡¯t belong in the boardroom,¡¯ but I don¡¯t listen to the haters, you know?¡± Brayden¡¯s voice carried through the still air.

    ¡°Wow,¡± said Zereh. ¡°That¡¯s amazing.¡±

    To Emrys¡¯s ears the encouragement sounded flat, but Brayden preened at the praise.

    ¡°There¡¯s only two things you need in order to do well, no matter where you go: charisma and power.¡± He stroked the pommel of his sword. ¡°One or the other can get you pretty far, but both will take you all the way.¡±

    ¡°Hold on, shh.¡± Zereh held up a hand and stopped.

    The undead¡¯s shuffling gait slowed to a stop. It moaned and spun in a slow circle. The creature¡¯s expression was frozen in the rictus of death, but Emrys thought he could see confusion in its eyes.

    A man emerged from the shadows. Emrys blinked and for the first time noticed the large black tower tangled up in the trees, their branches pressed up against the walls like they didn¡¯t realize it was in the way. The walls were impossibly black and completely smooth, ridged with white protrusions that looked like veins crawling up the tower.

    The man wore a thick black cloak that obscured his features. It was embroidered with white veins that matched the look of the tower. He reached a comforting hand out to the undead.

    The necromancer.

    Emrys took half a step forward. Zereh threw out an arm to hold him back.

    She was too late. The arcanist¡¯s foot fell heavy on dried leaves, and the crackle was enough for the necromancer to look in their direction. His face was shadowed by the hood of his cloak, but white teeth gleamed in the moonlight when he smiled.

    ¡°So, the farmers have finally sent someone against me. I wondered what it would take.¡±

    Brayden stepped forward with his sword held high. ¡°I will vanquish you here, villain! Duel me here and we will end this now.¡± The knight winked at Zereh.

    The necromancer laughed. ¡°You are far, far too late, hero. You come to me now, when I am so close to my goals and think you can stop me? You think you can distract me from completing my master work?¡±

    ¡°Tell me your plan then, fiend. What do you plan to do with the kidnapped villagers?¡±

    The necromancer stroked the undead¡¯s skull. Dark purple sparks left trails on the creature¡¯s skin, sinking into the bone.

    ¡°I¡¯m trapped!¡± Brayden¡¯s voice was strained with panic. His hands pressed against an invisible wall. ¡°Zereh, kill him before he finishes this!¡±

    But Emrys and Zereh were struck with the same sort of immobility, each unable to step outside of a two foot square. Emrys reached for his magic, but for the first time in his life he felt completely cut off.

    Zereh was the only one unfazed. ¡°It¡¯s like a cut scene, just ride it out.¡±

    ¡°The most powerful force in this world is life,¡± said the necromancer. His voice was unnaturally deep and gravelly. ¡°And the only way to harness it is through death. Tonight I will enact my greatest work by sacrificing five lives ¨C five deserving lives. I have been preparing for this too long to let you stop me.¡± He ran his finger down the jaw of the undead, down its neck and chest. He rested his palm against the creature¡¯s chest and closed his eyes. Magic spread into the undead¡¯s heart and flowed across the limbs until the entire body was coated in that deep purple glow.

    The creature moaned. Every inch of it was enlarging. The bone white of its bare skull, the strips of flesh across its face.

    The necromancer watched with growing pride as the undead grew to three times its original size.

    ¡°This should keep you busy until I finish my ritual.¡± He spun on his heel and slipped back into the tower.

    Brayden shook out his arms and legs. ¡°Whoo! That was trippy.¡±

    Zereh laughed. ¡°You get used to it.¡±

 Ch21 Nice Guys

    Emrys conjured a fireball. As soon as the necromancer returned to the tower, the arcanist had felt his magic restored.

    The whole experience was deeply unsettling. He never would have imagined another spellcaster could interfere with something so personal and central as his magic ability.

    ¡°He had us at his mercy,¡± Emrys said. ¡°Why didn¡¯t he kill us?¡±

    Zereh looked uncomfortable. ¡°That wasn¡¯t him exactly, it was more¡­ Well, some things are meant to be. They have to happen, so the whole world stops in order to let them.¡±

    Emrys only looked more confused.

    ¡°It¡¯s best not to think about it too much.¡±

    ¡°Are you guys going to fight this thing or just stand around and talk?¡±

    Brayden locked swords with the undead. The creature¡¯s sword was longer than Brayden was tall, yet the paladin was holding his own.

    ¡°Oh, do you need us?¡± Zereh called. ¡°I thought since you¡¯re so good at this, you wouldn¡¯t need us.¡±

    Brayden grunted, visibly torn between needing help and not wanting to admit it. He ducked under a mighty swing of the undead¡¯s blade and snuck in for a cut at its thighs.

    The undead stomped a heavy foot, sending a shockwave through the earth. Brayden lost his footing and fell over.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say I need you,¡± he said through gritted teeth. ¡°But I thought you might like the experience.¡±

    Zereh chuckled. ¡°Well, in that case¡­¡± She darted into the fray. A quick swipe of her blades against the undead¡¯s back was enough to split its attention.

    Emrys released his fireball at the creature¡¯s face. The skull ignited in flames.

    Zereh yelped. ¡°Careful! I¡¯m not fireproof.¡±

    Brayden¡¯s golden sword connected with its chest and barely scratched the leather breastplate. He growled.

    ¡°Use a holy spell,¡± Zereh shouted over the clanging of blades. ¡°You should have something to strengthen your sword.¡±

    ¡°How do I do that?¡± Brayden yelled back.

    ¡°It¡¯s in your spells list! I don¡¯t know what you have, just look.¡± She lunged between the creature¡¯s legs, sliding her blades against its inner thighs. She was wearing it down, but slowly.

    ¡°Hey, Holy Spear sounds good. Takes a minute to cast though.¡±

    ¡°Got it. Emrys, help me buy time.¡±

    The arcanist scowled. Once again, he was in a position where his fire magic wouldn¡¯t do the most good. In this case it might even be detrimental if he caught Zereh in the area of effect.

    Bone was more flammable than he¡¯d expected.

    But if all he had to do was buy time¡­ He thought of the bog and how some parts of the ground that looked the most solid, turned out to be the most treacherous. If he could soften the ground beneath the undead¡¯s feet, the weight of it would drag it down while leaving Zereh unaffected.

    The only problem being that he didn¡¯t actually know any earth spells.

    He took a deep breath and tuned out the fight. Being cut off from his magic during what Zereh had called the ¡°cut scene¡± had made him hyper aware of that connection.

    He tapped into it. Magic lit up the entire forest. The undead glowed dark purple except for its head coated in red. Brayden glowed gold and Zereh gave off a wisp of shadow magic every time she moved. The grass and trees were outlines by green veins, and it was these he focused on. Though he could see everything, he understood that red, blue and green were the only lines he could influence.

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    The arcanist followed those green veins deeper into the earth and imagined them being replaced by blue lines of water, softening the earth until it became unstable.

    The next step the undead took left a muddy footprint behind. Zereh was light enough on her feet that she didn¡¯t even notice the change.

    But a muddy footprint wasn¡¯t enough to make a difference. The tip of the undead¡¯s sword clipped Zereh¡¯s arm with enough force to send her sprawling. She was tough, but the weight difference was working against her.

    ¡°Help me out here, Emrys,¡± she called.

    ¡°Working on it!¡± he yelled back.

    The trouble was, there wasn¡¯t anywhere he could draw water from. He could make some difference by pulling moisture from the grass and trees, but that would put the entire forest at risk without guarantee of the result he was looking for.

    Use your mana.

    The thought came to him like a whisper. For Greg¡¯s temple quest he had used an existing resource to manipulate battlefield conditions. Lacking that, he could use his internal reservoir of mana to enact the change he was looking for.

    ¡°Of course!¡± It was the same way he fueled his fire spells. But because it wasn¡¯t fire, he¡¯d been thinking of it only as external to himself, when it really didn¡¯t need to be. The only difference was that due to his unfamiliarity with the element, the process would be less efficient and more draining.

    He closed his eyes and thought again of infusing the earth with water. Only this time he was pulling that water from himself, his mana reservoir.

    This time, it worked.

    The ground beneath the undead wobbled like jello and its next step plunged it knee deep in bog water ¨Cor at least, a temporary, muddier equivalent.

    The creature flailed wildly and fell forward, faceplanting in the dirt.

    ¡°Nice!¡± Zereh leapt on top of the creature¡¯s back and stabbed with both swords into the base of its neck, dealing massive damage at the weak spot.

    ¡°Here we go! Get clear.¡± The golden light of the paladin¡¯s spell solidified into a glowing spear. Brayden threw the weapon with perfect aim.

    Zereh scrambled out of the way, leaping clear as the spear pinned the undead to the ground.

    The creature struggled for a moment longer, but holy magic was too effective against undead. The light in its eyes darkened and it fell still.

    Emrys slumped back in relief. As soon as he stopped actively introducing water into the earth, the effect started to fade.

    Zereh whooped. ¡°We did it!¡±

    The paladin swooped her up in a hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning in a circle.

    As soon as her feet touched the ground again she stepped aside, her face flushed. ¡°Don¡¯t touch me.¡± At his stricken expression, she softened her tone. ¡°I just mean, please don¡¯t surprise me like that.¡±

    ¡°You know what I like about you? You¡¯re not afraid to say what¡¯s on your mind, even when you should be.¡± Brayden laughed. ¡°Let¡¯s not forget that you asked me out, and I even agreed to play into this weird little fantasy of yours.¡± He put his arm around her waist, pulling her close again. ¡°So you should be a little nicer to me.¡±

    Zereh pushed him away, but gently. ¡°I had something else in mind actually. I think both our parents want us to be together. But you and I both know that we¡¯re too different for that to really work out.¡±

    His face shuttered. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°Well, you have to admit I¡¯m not the kind of girl you¡¯re actually interested in, but there¡¯s no way you like having your mother setting you up on dates. So what if we just¡­ pretended to be together? Help each other out? We smile and hold hands when we¡¯re supposed to, but beyond that we leave each other alone.¡±

    Brayden¡¯s face twisted.

    ¡°You must understand¨C¡±

    ¡°Oh, I understand. You were never actually interested in me. Just like everyone else, you thought you could use me to get to my parents. Well you can¡¯t. I¡¯m not going to let you play me like that.¡±

    ¡°Brayden, I¨C¡±

    ¡°The worst part is, I actually respected that you brought me out here, that you didn¡¯t just cave to the classic dinner and a movie. You stuck to your guns about what you wanted to do, and I respected that. I thought you respected me too.¡±

    Zereh faltered. ¡°No, it¡¯s not that. I do respect you.¡±

    Brayden just shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re just like everybody else. Except at least they have the decency to only go after me professionally, instead of¡­¡± He punched his fist against his chest

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    He chuckled darkly. ¡°No you¡¯re not. But you will be.¡±

    The threat snapped Zereh back into the cold warrior mindset Emrys had grown accustomed to seeing. ¡°Actually no, because you know what? At no point did you ever indicate that you were actually interested in me, as a person. And you¡¯re only upset now because your ego is bruised, because I didn¡¯t want to go out with you.¡±

    Brayden snarled and the mask fell apart. Or was it the mask falling back into place? ¡°You think you¡¯re hot shit, don¡¯t you. You¡¯re right though. I have no interest in going out with you, you¡¯re a fat slut and nobody likes you.¡± He turned his back to the warrior and waved his arms up at the dark tower. ¡°Hey! Necromancer!¡±

    The villain poked his head out of the tallest window in the tower.

    Once he had his attention, Brayden flashed a wicked grin at Zereh. ¡°You know the funny thing about paladins is that we have all kinds of abilities. All kinds of special skills to help our teammates.¡±

    He held his sword up to the sky. A shimmering golden glow traveled up from the hilt to the point and back again. It was the kind of sword that could slay dragons and save kingdoms.

    ¡°Empower Ally.¡± That golden glow shot from the tip of the sword all the way to the tallest window of the necromancer¡¯s tower. The glow engulfed the necromancer. Where the holy magic should have clashed with the undead stain, the magic instead acted as if on an ally, strengthening and emboldening him.

    The necromancer watched the golden light dance across his arms in wonder.

    ¡°Bye, bitch.¡± Brayden disappeared.

 Ch22 Recoil

    Zereh sat against a tree with her head in her hands. Gnarled roots twisted by dark magic curled around her.

    Emrys looked from her to the tower entrance, unsure if he should say anything.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± he finally asked

    Zereh sighed. ¡°I could probably have handled that better. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s on his way to make my life hell right now.¡±

    ¡°What could he do to you while you¡¯re here?¡±

    ¡°Not this,¡± Zereh gestured at herself. ¡°My real life.¡±

    They sat in silence for a bit, Emrys needing to ask the question but also being terrified of the answer. Zereh being completely oblivious to his inner turmoil, drained as she was from the confrontation.

    ¡°He called this a game,¡± Emrys finally said. ¡°Is that why immortals treat us the way they do? They think this is a game?¡±

    Zereh buried her face. ¡°We can¡¯t talk about this,¡± she said, her voice muffled.

    ¡°Why not? This is my life, Zereh. It¡¯s Sven¡¯s life.¡±

    The woman grimaced. ¡°Because I can¡¯t talk about it. That¡¯s the kind of thing that could get me banned. Exiled from this world.¡±

    ¡°That could happen?¡± Emrys said, facing her. ¡°How?¡±

    Zereh lifted her gaze. ¡°Did you think the Unknown God found us by accident? Or as some kind of coincidence?¡±

    ¡°You mean¨C.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re watching. And there are rules for our conduct in this place.¡±

    Emrys absorbed that information. He had always known the immortals to be arrogant and inconsiderate. They always acted as though their own lives were worth more than the mortals. It should come as no surprise that they took it one step further and considered their time in the world as no more than a game.

    And yet. There was a grand injustice to it. The immortals would saunter from their world to his, that they would toy with the lives of his friends and family and worst of all, that they would be so much stronger that the mortals welcomed them in with open arms, grateful for their attention.

    In the midst of all that was Zereh. An immortal, yes, but she was also becoming a friend. And she had her own struggles with the other immortals. A conflict he¡¯d never imagined existed.

    He put a hand on hers. ¡°That paladin isn¡¯t worth your time. Whatever he tries to do to you, in this world or yours, I know you can overcome it.¡±

    Her eyes met his and he realized with a jolt how close they were to each other. He gulped and leaned back.

    A scream echoed out of the tower.

    Zereh grimaced. ¡°One thing at a time, eh? Let¡¯s finish off this necromancer of yours.¡±

    Emrys rose unsteadily to his feet and followed her into the tower. Now that they had finally reached their goal he found himself reluctant to continue, worried what he might find. His urgency was abruptly replaced by an overabundance of caution.

    But as Zereh disappeared through the pitch black doorway he forced one foot in front of the other. Not just for Sven now, but for her too. She was in this mess because of him, and if Brayden was any indication she was sacrificing more than he realized to get through this.

    Dim light filtered in through hairline cracks in the walls, the cracks following the same pattern as the white roots that snaked around the outside of the tower walls.

    It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but when they did Emrys gasped. Cages lined the walls. Each one was large enough to house a person. They were lined with dried grass, and there was a small side table that could hold a food tray. Aside from that they resembled cages for animals.

    Most were empty, but several held the remains of long forgotten captives. Zereh was checking each cage methodically for useful items, even going so far as to pat down the bodies.

    ¡°Sven?¡± Emrys croaked. ¡°Sven, are you in here?¡± His voice shook.

    Zereh finished her sweep of the room. ¡°Emrys, come here.¡±

    He rushed to her side, heart in his throat. Looking into the cage he expected nothing more than to see his best friend lying prone like the others, his corpse a testament to Emrys¡¯s failure in their relationship. But it wasn¡¯t Sven¡¯s face peering up through the bars. A young girl gripped the bars, her blue eyes wide with fear and hope.

    ¡°Lilith!¡± Emrys crouched beside the young girl and pressed his hand against hers. ¡°How did you get here?¡±

    The girl swallowed heavily. ¡°Do you have any water?¡±

    Emrys looked to Zereh for the answer.

    She searched her pack. ¡°We have holy water but that¡¯s it.¡±

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    ¡°That should be fine, right? She can barely talk.¡±

    With a quick grumble about the cost of water, Zereh fished a bottle from her pack and passed it over.

    Lilith gulped it down. ¡°Thank you,¡± she sighed. Already, color was returning to her cheeks and there was a spark of defiance in her eyes .

    ¡°Zereh, did you find a key? Or can we break the bars?¡±

    The warrior gave him a look of exasperation. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be that easy. We¡¯ll have to stop the necromancer, and loot the key from his body. That holy water healed her though, so she should be fine while we climb the tower.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only two stories tall, actually,¡± the girl said. It just looks tall from outside because of an illusion.

    Zereh rolled her eyes. ¡°Lazy developers.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Never mind. You¡¯ve been upstairs?¡±

    The girl nodded. ¡°He said he didn¡¯t mean to kidnap me, but he would use me in the ritual if he had to. Then the skeletons brought back those boys, and he put me back down here.¡±

    The arcanist¡¯s breath caught. ¡°Have you seen Sven? When you went upstairs, was he there?¡±

    Lilith¡¯s eyes filled with tears and she backed into the far corner of the cage. She shook her head hard and clasped her hands over her ears.

    Zereh and Emrys looked at each other, alarmed.

    ¡°Lilith?¡± Zereh asked. ¡°What did you see?¡±

    Lilith just shook her head. She was done answering questions.

    ¡°Onwards and upwards, then.¡±

    Emrys searched Lilith¡¯s face for any clue of what she had seen. Sven was definitely here, in this horrible place. And if her reaction was anything to go by, something truly terrible had happened to him.

    ¡°Right,¡± he said. ¡°Stairs are this way¡±.

    The stone staircase spiraled sharply. Even peering upwards they couldn¡¯t get any kind of preview into the next room.

    Once again Zereh took the lead. If anyone was going to be hit in the face with a trap, it would be the immortal in the party.

    The screams grew louder as they ascended. Mixed in with that, Emrys was able to make out laughter. Ruthless, malicious laughter.

    When he finally rounded the last corner, the arcanist nearly fell to his knees in shock.

    Zereh stepped quietly to the side, as yet unnoticed. The necromancer was focused on his work. Emerys knew that was the strategic action. The longer they could maintain stealth the more effective would be their surprise. But he couldn¡¯t help himself.

    ¡°Sven?¡± The name fell from his lips, thick with horror.

    Five captives were bound and gagged, one at each point of a pentacle star. Judging by their wounds and the wet red of the symbol, it was painted in their blood. At the center of the room was a blonde woman lying on a stone table. She wore the white robe of the deceased, and her arms were crossed over her chest. If not for the alarming bruises across her skin, she looked asleep.

    The necromancer was dragging a wicked looking dagger across a woman¡¯s shoulder in an intricate pattern. The other captives already had their shoulders exposed. If they had the same carving, it was obscured by the blood.

    But at the sound of Emrys¡¯s voice, the necromancer looked up from his work. Annoyance twisted his handsome face. ¡°Emrys. What are you doing here?¡±

    ¡°Looking for you.¡± The arcanist¡¯s voice was strangled. ¡°You were learning rune magic. For this? For necromancy?¡±

    ¡°Ohh, snap,¡± Zereh murmured.

    Sven¡¯s lip curled. ¡°You could have helped me, you know. I wanted your help. But all you could talk about were your precious dungeons.¡±

    ¡°What is this all for?¡± Emrys pleaded, not wanting to believe the evidence before his eyes. ¡°Are you trying to save her?¡± His eyes darted again to the dead woman on the table. Stephanie.

    ¡°That¡¯s how it started. I¡¯m a healer, after all. Thanks to you.¡±

    The arcanist¡¯s mind was racing. ¡°Then you could have brought her back with a revival spell. No need for all this.¡± He gestured at the wounded people before him. All five looked to him with an equal mix of horror and relief in their eyes.

    ¡°Without the help of a master healer it would take years to learn that spell,¡± Sven snarled. ¡°Besides, there¡¯s a limit to how long you can wait before the spell is ineffective. The only way I could bring her back is with necromancy.¡± He grinned suddenly and Emrys found that he no longer recognized his friend. ¡°The beauty of it is, not only do I get her back, I can punish those responsible for her death at the same time.¡± He paced around the pentagram and grabbed two of the men by the hair, lifting their faces. ¡°The Wardlaw brothers, who dragged her away from the festival and pushed her into the field.¡±

    One of them coughed. ¡°That¡¯s not¨C¡±

    ¡°Shut up.¡± The necromancer punctuated with a kick to the stomach. He grabbed the chin of the next man. ¡°The farmer who lost control of his cows. The healer who is too drunk to do her God¡¯s damn job. And last but certainly not least, the absolute buffoon who thought it would be a good idea in the first place to set off fireworks next to a herd of cows.¡± He kicked the last man with particular vehemence.

    ¡°You see, Emrys? This is justice. For Stephanie. Because she deserves to live. And because no one else was going to hold these bastards accountable.¡±

    ¡°What about the innocents who were attacked by your undead when you sent them to kidnap these five? What about Lilith downstairs?¡±

    Sven¡¯s eyes softened for a moment, then hardened once more to flinty gray. ¡°The elders should have prosecuted when I first brought them the evidence that these people were responsible. It¡¯s their own choices that led to this.¡±

    Emrys¡¯s heart broke a little more with every word. How much of this was a result of his own inattention and how much a product of who Sven had always been? A man willing to do whatever it took to save the people he loved, even if it meant crossing every line.

    ¡°I have to stop you,¡± he said. ¡°You understand that, don¡¯t you?¡±

    The necromancer cocked his head. ¡°You can try.¡± Yellow light danced across his fingers. ¡°You know what¡¯s funny? I actually wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d have enough juice for this ritual, even with five sacrifices to fuel the death magic. But after your paladin friend decided to help me out, I feel good. Good enough in fact, to reanimate some reinforcements.¡±

    Emrys whirled around. Running up the stairs was the same overgrown undead they just defeated. That Brayden defeated.

    Zereh was at his side in a second. ¡°We don¡¯t have as much room to maneuver here, but it doesn¡¯t either.¡±

    Behind them, Sven began to chant. The ritual had begun.

    Emrys called fire into the shape of a sword and lunged forward. The blade of fire swiped across the undead, dealing fire damage across its chest.

    The beast roared, but the arcanist was able to dodge away before it could retaliate. The confined space of the winding staircase worked against the oversized creature. If they could keep it trapped on the narrow steps, they could whittle away its health.

    The two adventurers quickly fell into a rhythm. One at a time they drew the creature¡¯s ire, then darted away before they could be hit themselves. Emrys was exhausted when the undead finally fell, but he was unscathed.

    Zereh handed him a stamina potion. He gulped it down. Exhaustion fled from his limbs in the fog cleared from his mind.

    At that moment, Sven¡¯s chanting ceased. Emrys faced his old friend, but the necromancer had become unrecognizable. Thick lines of purple magic rose from each of the five sacrifices, all of whom lay dead, their throats cut. The blood floated alongside the magic, swirling around Sven until he was obscured.

    The mage stretched out his hand towards Stephanie, and the red-purple swirl poured into her. It covered her completely, soaking into her body, filling her with life and magic.

    There was a beat of silence. Then she gasped with breath.

    She was alive.

 Ch23 Stephanie

    Stephanie lay between Drake and Josh Wardlaw, drunk enough not to care about the mud on her skirts. She was wearing her nicest outfit for the harvest festival, and it would take a great deal of elbow grease to get the stains out later.

    She laced her fingers through Josh¡¯s and nuzzled her face against Drake¡¯s shoulder, still bare from their earlier activity.

    The problem with harvest festivals, she thought, was that they were the same every year. Every year there was a large bonfire on the edge of town. Every year, the fiddler put on a show and the rest of the villagers drank and danced all night. It was a good time¡­ the first time. But after that, in Stephanie¡¯s opinion anyway, each subsequent festival was more dull and predictable than the last. Nothing compared to that spark of her first glass of wine, her first harvest dance where everything was new and exciting just for the sake of it.

    So if she was going to have a good time, she had to make her own fun. Figure out for herself what new things she should try, to bring back the excitement. This year, she winked at the Wardlaw brothers and led them away by the hand. Not just away from the festival but to Roderick¡¯s farm. It was close enough that they could still hear the festivities but far enough that the light of the bonfire had all but faded.

    Best of all, she knew that Roderick was home; he hadn¡¯t been to the harvest festival in eleven years, and if he knew they were on his land he would be furious.

    The thought of getting caught was enough to make her shiver. It wasn¡¯t that she wanted to be caught. She didn¡¯t want Roderick to see her any more than she wanted Sven to find out about her dalliances.

    But the potential for it¡­ there was a delicious spice in the possibility of total self-destruction.

    She leapt to her feet and twirled her skirt. Both men watched her move, and she drank in their attention.

    Drake reached for her as if to pull her back onto the grass. Stephanie danced away, making a game of it until she was balanced on a fence post giggling.

    Josh studied her, a sweet look of concern on his face.

    ¡°Come down,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re drunk.¡±

    ¡°Am not,¡± she winked. ¡°I¡¯m just the right amount.¡± To show off, she strutted across the fence like a balance beam. He was right, of course. The wine had hit her pretty hard, but she¡¯d been walking the fences her entire life.

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    She waggled her hips as she passed, peeking through the curtain of her hair to see his expressions softening.

    A loud series of pops shook the air. It sounded like fireworks, but it was way too close to be from the harvest festival.

    Stephanie spun on her heel peering into the dark as if she might find the source of it. She wobbled only a little and was able to catch herself.

    She laughed uneasily. ¡°That was weird.¡±

    The fence began to shake again, this time more violently. The pounding of hooves reverberated through the air and shook the earth, and in turn the fence. Roderick¡¯s cows were on the move.

    Stephanie slipped. The world spun in a twist of alcohol and gravity and she landed heavy on her back.

    ¡°Stephanie!¡± Josh lurched towards her.

    A lantern flared to life in Roderick¡¯s house and an old man stepped outside. ¡°Hey!¡± he yelled. ¡°Who¡¯s out there?¡±

    At the sound of Roderick¡¯s voice, Drake and Josh turned tail and ran. They knew well his reputation against trespassers.

    The rumbling hadn¡¯t stopped. Stephanie could feel like getting louder. Closer.

    In a moment it was upon her.

    ###

    She awoke gasping on a bench. ¡°Where am I?¡±

    Sven loomed over her. He wore a cloak that was unsettlingly black with white lines curling around in an odd pattern, but his face was the same.

    She was used to men who looked at her with desire and adoration. She collected looks like that, feasted on them. But attention like that never held a candle to the way Sven looked at her. When his eyes met hers, she became the center of the universe, the axis upon which all else spun. There was nothing he would not do for her, no edge of the world he would not burn for her.

    She drank it in. They were the only two real people in the world, the only ones who mattered .

    ¡°No!¡±

    Stephanie turned to see Emrys, bloodied and disheveled, beside a warrior woman. For the first time she noted that in a ring around her, at regular intervals, lay five corpses each etched with the same circular rune that was painted on the floor and blood.

    Stephanie took all this in without reaction. ¡°Sven?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here, darling.¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes darkened with momentary rage, not directed at her. Never at her.

    ¡°You died,¡± he said through gritted teeth. ¡°I gathered everyone responsible, and I killed them. To bring you back.¡±

    His eyes searched hers for understanding and she gave it. She saw Drake and Josh¡¯s bodies and remembered the stampede. Remembered them fleeing.

    She looked down at her own body, whole and hale. Her dirty festival dress had been replaced by the white robe of burial, it was clean and unmarred.

    Sven did all this for her. Of course he did. There was nothing he wouldn¡¯t do, no line he wouldn¡¯t cross ¨Cfor her. She pulled him close, hungry for his mouth on hers. His hand cradled her jaw, gently at first and then with more force as he realized how alive she was beneath his fingertips.

    A fireball seared past them, interrupting the kiss.

 Ch24 Finish Him

    Sven put himself between Stephanie and Emrys without a moment¡¯s hesitation. He had not worked so hard to get her back, to lose her so easily.

    ¡°Sven, I don¡¯t want to hurt you. Or Stephanie.¡±

    The necromancer held his hands out palm up, in a gesture of peace. ¡°Then don¡¯t.¡±

    Emrys shook his head. ¡°We have to stop you from hurting anyone else.¡±

    ¡°You have! Good job. I only turn to necromancy to bring Stephanie back and now that I have, you don¡¯t have to worry. I won¡¯t do it anymore I promise.¡±

    Emrys wavered. ¡°You¡¯ve hurt a lot of people.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± Sven stepped closer. ¡°I know, and I¡¯m sorry about that. You have to know I did as little damage as I could. It took me a while to get the basics down, but then I went straight for the ritual to bring her back. And I don¡¯t need necromancy anymore. I¡¯m done. You did it. You stopped me.¡±

    Emrys¡¯s fireball flickered. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me, Sven?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t put into words. I tried once, when it first started.¡± He leaned against a stone pillar. ¡°One of the goddesses came to me in a dream and told me where to find the spell book.¡±

    Emrys¡¯s eyes snapped up. ¡°Which one?¡±

    Sven gave an apologetic shrug. ¡°I don¡¯t know. The dream faded, and the only thing I could remember clearly was the spell book. I wanted to tell you so badly, but it was like the words refused to leave my mouth.¡±

    Emrys was struggling. He wanted to believe in his friend, desperately wanted the nightmare to be over. But he remembered Jason¡¯s frightened eyes and the twisted corpses in the cages downstairs.

    The necromancer must have seen the shift in his old friend¡¯s eyes. He whipped his hands out from behind his back, his fingertips already dancing with purple energy. The magic lashed out at Emrys.

    The arcanist fell to the side, narrowly dodging the death ray aimed for his chest. Years of fighting in the dungeons have left him with excellent reflexes.

    Before he could think too much about what he was doing,Emrys called forth the flaming sword that had saved him against the undead Goliath at the tower entrance.

    Sven backed up warily. ¡°That¡¯s new.¡±

    ¡°Not really,¡± Emrys grimaced. ¡°I just haven¡¯t seen you in a while.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this. We could just go back to how things were.¡± The necromancer¡¯s voice was smooth and calming, but even as he spoke, the five corpses began to stir.

    With his sword in one hand, Emrys used the other hand to conjure fireballs. He shot them at the corpses with wild abandon, caring only enough to make sure the splash damage didn¡¯t impact Zereh.

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    Zereh dashed toward the necromancer, only to slam right up against a golden shield. It formed a mostly translucent barrier between her and the necromancer, glowing bright and opaque only when she pressed against it.

    Sven flashed her a smirk. ¡°I owe your paladin friend my thanks,¡± he said. ¡°Not only did he grant me the power to properly complete the ritual to bring Stephanie back, I have a few temporary spells at my disposal.¡±

    Zereh slammed her fist against the shield. Golden light rippled out from the impact.

    The warrior knew that no shield was truly impenetrable. It would give out if it took enough damage or if the time limit expired. But she also knew that the paladin who had granted this boon was more than twice her own level. The shield was beyond her ability to circumvent, and Sven was closing in on Emrys too quickly for her to rely on the time limit.

    The necromancer slapped his palm against Emrys¡¯s chest, the blow enhanced with deadly magic.

    Emrys slid across the stone floor, stopping only when he slammed into the wall.

    Sven approached him slowly, the edge of his lips curling. ¡°You should have been the one person I could trust with this,¡± he snarled. ¡°The one person who would support me. But even in Westover, I knew I couldn¡¯t trust you.¡±

    The death bolt charged between his palms, a swirling ball of purple and black magic that grew with every second. He knew how Emrys had honed his constitution in the dungeons, and he wasn¡¯t going to take any chances. If he was going to take him out, it would have to be in one shot.

    ¡°Emrys, close your eyes!¡± The warrior held a blue glass bottle with a white label. The glass was just on the edge of translucent, and on the other side something bright and vibrant was bouncing around just out of sight.

    She scrawled Sven¡¯s name across the label and uncorked the bottle. White lightning emerged joyfully at first as though delighted to be free of its confines, then arced across the room. A direct hit at the necromancer.

    The lightning flooded his body, far too much power for one man to overcome. His body glowed from the inside for a brief moment, the lightning following the path of his veins, searing him from the inside. Sven¡¯s body shook violently for a moment, then stilled.

    Emrys scrambled away from the corpse. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± he screamed.

    ¡°A trick that only works once.¡± Zereh tossed the spent bottle. It clattered against the stone floor and rolled away. ¡°I was saving it for something else, but here we are.¡±

    ¡°Much appreciated,¡± the arcanist grunted.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the girl? We should be able to take her back to town.¡±

    ¡°Stephanie?¡± The arcanist looked around, but the young woman was nowhere to be seen. ¡°Did you see her leave?¡±

    Zereh sheathed her blades. ¡°Huh. Must have snuck out during the fight, I guess. Probably just went back home.¡±

    ¡°Probably.¡± Emrys pushed down his unease. It made sense, he supposed. If he woke up in the middle of a fight, he¡¯d probably run out as well.

    There was just something about her eyes that stuck with him. She hadn¡¯t looked afraid, was the thing. If anything, the look on her face had been calculating. What was she thinking? Weighing the odds of Sven winning the fight?

    What if she came back wrong, more undead than Sven had intended? She¡¯d looked normal, but it could be the type of thing to slowly change her.

    Emrys was stalling. Thinking about anything besides the reason he was there.

    Zereh approached the body. ¡°I guess we failed the quest,¡± she said. ¡°Though to be honest, I don¡¯t see any way we could have succeeded.¡±

    ¡°No, he was. He was already lost.¡± Emrys¡¯s whole body shuddered. ¡°I can¡¯t go back home. Not after¡­this.¡±

    Zereh patted his shoulder. ¡°Then don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°But what else is there for me? My whole life has been devoted to the dungeons. I wouldn¡¯t know what to do with myself besides that.¡±

    Zereh¡¯s mind whirred. ¡°You could come along with me, if you want. I¡¯m headed to the Wildlands next to help expand the borders.¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t mind?¡± He looked at her with uncertain hope.

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have invited you along if I did. I¡¯ll tell you what, I have a few errands I need to run.¡± She handed him a key. ¡°Why don¡¯t you take Lilith back to town, and I¡¯ll meet you back in Sonora?¡±

    Emrys nodded slowly. ¡°I can do that. You promise you¡¯ll come back?¡±

    ¡°I promise.¡±

    Without another word, the warrior vanished.

 Ch24 Quest Complete

    Zereh used a Rare Scroll of Teleportation to return to the dragon¡¯s mountain. The quest prompt teleportation wasn¡¯t going to work this time, since she hadn¡¯t technically completed the quest, and she had no intention to do so.

    Even so, the goblin with the sapphire earring met her at the entrance. He sneezed at the sight of her.

    ¡°Apologies. I¡¯m allergic to failure.¡±

    Zereh winced. She supposed she should count herself lucky that the dragon sent the goblin at all, considering.

    They didn¡¯t talk further as they goblin guided her through the hidden tunnels that led to the dragon¡¯s lair. Zereh was too nervous, not just because she was about to circumvent the dragon¡¯s quest, but because the fight against the necromancer had left her raw.

    She had used what was probably the most powerful weapon in the game, a single-use item, to save the life of an NPC. In the moment, it hadn¡¯t even been a question. Cut off from Emrys by the paladin shield, she had no other attacks that could have reached the necromancer in time.

    Had she saved the weapon, she could have used it against a boss monster far beyond her current level and gained a huge boost through the ranks. Should¡¯ve thought of that sooner. If she¡¯d thought to take a detour before going after Sven, she might have been strong enough to defeat the necromancer without it.

    Or, hell, if Brayden hadn¡¯t gotten involved it wouldn¡¯t have been an issue to begin with.

    She winced at the thought of him. He was probably already back at her house, telling her parents how terrible she was. They¡¯d believe him too, and she¡¯d be off to Cheryl¡¯s beach house for the summer.

    Zereh forced herself to take a deep breath. One thing at a time. It wasn¡¯t worth worrying about Brayden yet.

    Because none of that had entered the equation when the one, overwhelming thought in her head was that she couldn¡¯t let Emrys die. There would be no respawn for an NPC; if he died in battle, he died for good.

    It was something of a liability, if she thought about it objectively. The threat of actual character death had repeatedly forced her to make extreme choices, and if she stayed with him that would only get worse as she grew more and more attached.

    But there was something about him that she couldn¡¯t ignore. As the Unknown God had said, Emrys was special. There was a spark in him, something alive and aware that the other NPCs didn¡¯t share.

    That¡¯s what allowed him to change the quest parameters when he wanted to travel with her. It was probably also why his bizarre magical ability didn¡¯t seem to follow any skill tree she¡¯d ever heard of.

    Sheer curiosity was what drove her to sacrifice everything to keep him alive. It wasn¡¯t that he seemed more attractive every time they met, or the relief in his ocean-blue eyes each time he saw that she was safe.

    No, she was protecting him purely out of academic interest.

    The warrior straightened her spine and hid her nerves behind a steel mask. She was used to hiding weakness. It was the one thing she knew she was good at.

    The goblin smirked as he waved her in to see D¡¯ahn.

    She strode past him without a glance.

    D¡¯ahn Nehete¡¯s cave was just as she remembered it, piled high with trinkets and gold coins. The dragon himself was coiled at the top, his head positioned so that smoke blew directly from his nostrils to the entryway.

    A power play, and a heavy-handed one at that.

    She stepped through it. ¡°I know it doesn¡¯t look like it, but I have done as you asked.¡±

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    The dragon rumbled a low growl that echoed through the chamber. ¡°The mage yet lives.¡±

    ¡°He does. But the wording of the quest was that I stop him, not kill him. Emrys won¡¯t be destroying any more of the dungeons in Westover, and that¡¯s what you wanted. He¡¯ll be traveling with me. You can leave him be.¡±

    D¡¯ahn rose to his feet and stretched his wings. The torches that lined the cavern walls blazed with light.

    ¡°What makes you think you can promise me that? The only way to guarantee his inaction is for him to die. Not only have you failed in this, you have used up the priceless artifact I gave you for this sole purpose.¡± The dragon¡¯s yellow eyes bored into hers. ¡°Give me one reason why I shouldn¡¯t kill you now.¡±

    Zereh swallowed. It¡¯s not real, it¡¯s not real, it¡¯s not real. ¡°I did what you asked. He will never destroy another dungeon in Westover.¡±

    D¡¯ahn stared her down, but the warrior did not flinch. This wasn¡¯t her first staring contest, and it wouldn¡¯t be her last. If there was one thing she could be grateful to her mother for, it was that.

    ¡°I will not kill him,¡± she said. ¡°And I will fight against anyone who tries.¡±

    For a moment the dragon looked amused. ¡°Even me?¡±

    ¡°Even you. Though if you could give me a chance to level up a bit more first, I¡¯d appreciate it.¡±

    The dragon chuckled and withdrew. ¡°I see you are determined. Very well. I will update your quest.¡±

    The words wrote themselves mid-air.

    Dungeon Avenger

    Dungeons are in danger! One unhinged mage is threatening the existence of dungeons as we know them! Stop that maniac at all costs!

    Reward: bottle of lightning! Oops, look like you already used that up. Too bad.

    Failure: D¡¯ahn will personally track you down and kill you. Permanent character death.

    The dragon let out a low whistle. ¡°Permanent character death, that¡¯s a pretty serious penalty for failure. You¡¯re really willing to risk it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not risking anything. I¡¯ve already completed this quest.¡±

    He chuckled again. ¡°Perhaps. I do admire your confidence. Go, then. And I¡¯ll only see you again if you¡¯re wrong.¡±

    ###

    Sarah¡¯s hair was slick with sweat, and a few strands got caught in the visor as she pulled the helmet off.

    ¡°You certainly took your time.¡±

    Sarah whirled around to see her mother sitting on her bed, legs crossed. Elena¡¯s expression was bland, but Sarah well knew that a storm was broiling underneath.

    ¡°Mother.¡±

    ¡°Brayden¡¯s already come and gone, but that didn¡¯t entice you away from your game, did it? I¡¯m sure you knew he was coming.¡±

    Sarah bit her lip. ¡°I had some loose ends to tie up. I should have to set aside my work just because he threw a tantrum.¡±

    Elena stood. ¡°There is no work inside that game,¡± she spat. ¡°The only work I needed you to do was on Brayden. He¡¯s a hot headed frat boy, how hard would it have been to win him over?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I won him over just fine, mom. He couldn¡¯t wait to get his hands on me.¡± She reflected her mother¡¯s venom. ¡°Just like you couldn¡¯t wait to whore me out as soon as you brought me home from college.¡±

    ¡°You watch your tone with me, young lady.¡± Elena took a deep, shuddering breath. ¡°For as long as you¡¯re living in this house, you will do your part in this family.¡±

    Sarah took a half step back. ¡°For as long as I¡¯m living¡­¡± Her mother¡¯s words pressed down on her as if to forcibly mold her back into shape. It was too much. She had already spent 25 years at her mother¡¯s beck and call, and for the majority of that she had at least held the blissful ignorance of youth.

    ¡°No.¡± The word fell heavy like a gavel. ¡°I¡¯ll move out. You won¡¯t have to see my disappointing face again.¡±

    Elena gasped. For the first time, true expression showed on her face. ¡°Your place is here, Sarah. Your duty is here.¡±

    ¡°Why? Why, mother? So you can sell me off to your friends? So you can take away everything I care about, lock me in an ivory tower while good people are being turned into slaves out there?¡± Her voice rose. ¡°That¡¯s not the kind of life I want!¡±

    ¡°It is the kind of life you have. We have given you everything, every opportunity. The least you could do is be grateful.¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Sarah shook her head. No. Such a simple word, but it made her almost dizzy to say. ¡°I¡¯m leaving. I¡¯ll find an apartment. I can¡¯t be here anymore.¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t afford that.¡± Panic was entering the woman¡¯s voice. ¡°We¡¯ll¡­ We¡¯ll cut you off. Cancel your credit cards.¡±

    Sarah shrugged, giddy with refusal. ¡°Fine. Do it. I¡¯ll find something cheap. I have my trust fund, if I¡¯m careful I can make it work. But if you do that, you¡¯ll never hear from me again.¡±

    Elena faltered. ¡°You don¡¯t mean that. You¡¯ll come back when you need us. You won¡¯t last a month.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t I, mother? Do I need you? Or will I realize, out there, that I¡¯m doing better on my own.¡± Sarah was revving up, getting into the idea. Lighting up with the thought of freedom. ¡°Just think of what people will say when I¡¯m gone. How that will look to your superficial friends.¡± A smile twisted her lips.

    Elena¡¯s breathing was shallow. If there was one thing she feared, it was unkind gossip about her family. But she was never one to let a curve ball unbalance her for too long.

    She straightened her spine. ¡°Fine. You¡¯ll be given an allowance, but you¡¯ll come to family dinner once a week.¡±

    ¡°Once a month.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Once a month.¡±

 Ch25 Aftermath

    Emrys walked the streets of Westover with the knowledge that it would likely be his last time. He¡¯d taken his time returning from Sonora. Lilith was safe and sound back with her parents, who had been all too willing to offer him a room for as long as he liked.

    He didn¡¯t know when to expect Zereh¡¯s return, so he took them up on their offer. Sonora was closer to where he¡¯d last seen her than Westover would be, so it made sense to stay in town.

    But one day had turned to three, with still no sign of the stoic warrior.

    He was still linked to her through the party connection, so he reassured himself that she hadn¡¯t abandoned him. Besides, she surely had business to attend to in her own world, after the paladin¡¯s tumultuous exit. Not only that, but he was aware that time passed more quickly in his world, so if she was busy for only one day in her own world, that could count for as many as four days in his.

    These reassurances cycled through his mind, but still he felt uneasy. He checked that party connection every five minutes, just as a reminder that she hadn¡¯t abandoned him.

    On the fourth day, he bid Lilith and her family goodbye. They extracted a promise from him to visit again, a promise he wasn¡¯t sure he intended to keep. As grateful as they were that he had returned their daughter to them, he could also sense that his presence was a reminder that she had been taken in the first place.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    So he returned to Westover. His home.

    Everything looked the same: the shops, the people, the guards stationed on the walls. But it felt different in a way he couldn¡¯t articulate. Like when he¡¯d left there had been an Emrys-sized hole, but it had healed over while he was gone.

    He didn¡¯t fit anymore.

    His pace quickened. He was just in town to tell Sven¡¯s mother what had transpired. As much as he would have preferred to deliver the news with Zereh, he also knew that it would be cruel to delay any longer.

    He found her on the front porch of her house, sitting peacefully in her rocking chair with a half-knitted sweater in her lap. She smiled when she saw him.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you a sight for sore eyes,¡± she said. ¡°Come sit, sit.¡±

    Emrys stood awkwardly. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, ma¡¯am. We found Sven, and he was¡­ He wasn¡¯t taken by the necromancer; he was the necromancer.¡±

    The old woman sighed. ¡°I know, dear. That warrior friend of yours already told me. I tried to tell you that whatever happened, it was already decided. There was nothing you could have done.¡±

    ¡°Zereh was here?!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a kind girl, I can see why you like her.¡± Sven¡¯s mother winked. Lightly teasing, as if her son hadn¡¯t just been killed.

    ¡°How are you¡ª? How can you?¡± The arcanist stuttered.

    She set her knitting down on her lap and her smile turned sad. ¡°I did my grieving while you were gone, dear. A mother knows, you know. But he was a grown man, and he made his own choices. And those choices had consequences. The best I can do now is continue on. So. Come sit with me. Tell me everything.¡±

    Emrys swallowed heavily. He was still struggling with his friend¡¯s death, and he hadn¡¯t been able to put it into words. Everyone he¡¯d talked to in Sonora was just relieved the necromancer was dead and gone.

    He took a seat beside the necromancer¡¯s mother. And he told her a story.

 Epilogue

    Daphne pulled off her headset and leaned back in her chair with a groan.

    Elliot peeked out from his cubicle. ¡°Long day?¡±

    ¡°You ever have a quest line go completely off the rails?¡±

    ¡°I thought your necromancer quest was going well.¡±

    ¡°It was! But, the necromancer wasn¡¯t actually supposed to be able to revive his girlfriend,¡± Daphne complained. ¡°The ritual wouldn¡¯t have worked, but this paladin stepped in and gave him an ally buff. Gave him the juice he needed to pull it off.¡±

    Elliot laughed. ¡°That¡¯s what¡¯s great about the game, though. The players have enough agency to change the story you¡¯re trying to tell.¡±

    ¡°I guess. It¡¯s still frustrating to be on this side of it.¡±

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I had something similar happen today. Remember I told you that the dungeons I programmed were getting erased from the map?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, you sent some player off to find out why.¡±

    ¡°Turns out it was an NPC getting into the dungeon core and pulling out the mana roots. So I tell her to make him stop, and I figure she¡¯s going to kill him, right?¡±

    ¡°Right¡­¡±

    ¡°Wrong. She becomes his best friend and convinces him to go around doing party quests with her instead of dungeons.¡±

    Daphne gaped. ¡°Can they do that? Party together?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Elliot shrugged. ¡°The programming is the same, except the NPC doesn¡¯t get a minimap to show where the other party members are. It doesn¡¯t happen very often though, because when an NPC dies outside of their home area, they get deleted for good. Players don¡¯t like it when their teammates can¡¯t respawn.¡±

    ¡°Huh. I see what you¡¯re saying though. She didn¡¯t do what you expected, but still technically accomplished the goal.¡±

    ¡°Right. No harm, no foul. And it¡¯s fun to be surprised when they get creative like that.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ Are you going to tell Craig about it?¡±

    ¡°About my successful quest that doesn¡¯t need intervention? Definitely not.¡±

    Daphne grinned. ¡°Yeah. Me neither.¡±