Ar'Kendrithyst

Chapter 222, 1/2

Erick almost woke naturally, with twilight filling the world beyond the windows, sunrise not too far away. It was the sort of morning that he had not experienced in a long time. Usually there was some twitter from Ophiel, signaling a new day, or a message from Poi, signaling some disaster. Today was different, though. Today, Erick had woken to the sounds of people moving around outside the room.

It was almost panic-inducing, for the sounds of unknown people outside of his room usually presaged assassination. But. No. No one was coming to kill him. Some guys next door were getting their armor on and getting ready to go out to the dungeons, or something; that’s all the noise was. Most other people in the hotel were asleep—

Erick’s stomach dropped as he remembered last night’s disaster, and realized the other half of the bed was empty; a lingering warmth already fading in the gentle purple light of morning. Quilatalap was gone.

But not really.

Erick glanced further through the mana, down the wooden hallways, through the guildhouse hotel, to the main room. People milled around, noisily and pushy, at least 50 of them, all standing around the chalkboard and the people working that chalkboard. An assistant telekinetically flicked chalk across the big board, while a teller called out names he had drawn from a box, and groups either cheered or moaned that they weren’t the ones put up there first. Every slot that was claimed was one less that they could claim for themselves.

There were not enough slots for everyone there, and all the people waiting in the wings, waiting for their turn. There were 7 dungeons, and each of them were being run every 2 hours, but since the day started at 7 and ended at 4, it meant there were only 35 slots per day.

And some groups had signed up multiple times; the slots were filling up fast.

Erick spotted Quilatalap, as Vanya, next to Barda, both of them hanging far, far back from the group, near hundreds of others, all of them there for the morning rush. Most of them looked like soldiers, but there were a few clearly-adventurers among the crowd, like Vanya and Barda. Nero was inside the crowd of people holding up his adventuring badge and another, local-made badge that indicated he was a local—

The teller called out his name, and he got dungeon 5, 11:30. Nero cheered.

… And Erick thought back to what they had said yesterday. He had thought that Barda and Nero were going for a later time slot. They had told Vanya and Soltic not to bother waking up before noon. Erick had assumed that Barda and Nero wouldn’t be waking up this early, either.

For a long moment, Erick simply lay in bed, thinking about everything.

He went over last night’s revelation from Sininindi. Five years away from Quilatalap; no contact.

He did not like that.

‘Soltic’ got out of bed, and decided on a few things. The only real decision he could make, himself, was that this ‘no-contact’ shit simply was not going to happen. Maybe they’d do letters, or something. But then there was the other realization. He would probably be splitting from Quilatalap, since that is what Quilatalap seemed to want.

Erick was finally confronting some uncomfortable truths about his relationship with the Archlich of Necromancy Itself.

Chief among those truths was that Quilatalap was perfectly fine with being whoever he needed to be to ensure his own safety in the world. Erick was pretty sure that ‘whoever he needed to be’ had been, for a while, ‘Erick’s Boyfriend’. Erick had almost spoken to Quilatalap about getting married years ago, but then…

Well. A lot had happened, and Quilatalap had sort of…

He’d not been interested in having that conversation, or having any sort of conversation anywhere near that sort of commitment. He didn’t even want to move in with Erick to the cloud castle. He preferred being alone in his dungeon, but not really alone; he loved when Erick was there every few days. Quilatalap had said that he loved Erick, but he just didn’t like being around anyone that much, and so, Erick had respected that… Strangeness.

Or at least it was strange to him.

Mortals, when the stars aligned and circumstances were favorable, lived and died together.

Immortals moved in and out of relationships like the tides coming and going from harbor.

According to Quilatalap, in an abandoned conversation they had had a long time ago, sometimes immortal relationships were like mortal relationships, but even the long ones usually broke up for whatever reason, because people grew, even when they did not age. And so, Erick had accepted that their relationship was one of the ocean meeting the land when the moons were overhead…

The moons had been overhead for a while, but they looked to be heading out.

But Erick wasn’t ready to give up without a fight. Some conversations needed to be had.

Soltic went to the bathroom, did his morning routine, took a really nice hot shower, and he came out with his beard shaved and his braids freshly woven, and not a hair out of place. Erick never was one for beards, anyway; they hid the face, and ‘Soltic’ did not want his face hidden at all for the conversations that were to come.

As he stepped out of his room, ready for what may come, the sun was rising, and the hubbub in the front room had died down to people waiting for their turn at lines for food inside the cafeteria. Breakfast was in full swing, and Soltic’s stomach grumbled at him.

He was glad that he had waited several hours to talk to Quilatalap about whatever was to happen next, for if he had spoken about everything right after it had happened, he likely would have said something he did not wish to say. Quilatalap might have done the same.

- - - -

Soltic walked into the cafeteria, grabbed some food, and headed over to the four-top table where Vanya, Barda, and Nero sat, eating breakfast together.

There was a space reserved for him, and so, Soltic sat down, saying, “Good morning!”

Barda and Nero were surprised at seeing new-mood Soltic, for the Soltic of yesterday had been a dour sort of guy. Now he was freshly shaved and looking a bit pretty, with a small sort of happiness on his face. It was mostly a facade, though.

Vanya looked at Soltic and saw the facade. She eyed him a little, going quiet in that moment; she had been the one talking about something or other, and now she was not. She did manage to say, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to sleep in, or not.”

Quilatalap was worried. A lot.

And that broke Erick’s heart all over again.

“I was more exhausted than I thought I was,” Soltic said, “But now I’m not.”

Barda and Nero noticed the tension—

And Nero spoke first, “We got you two a morning delve on our timecard.” He smiled, forcing some happiness into the moment, trying to stop whatever social disaster he imagined happening before him. “Barda and I are going into the city for the day anyway, so we cleared it with the guild and there shouldn’t be any trouble.”

Well that neatly explained what Soltic had seen earlier. Vanya must have spoken to them between then and now… or something. He was pretty sure that what he had seen was Nero and Barda getting a timeslot for themselves. Admittedly, though, he did not look too closely at whatever conversations had passed around before or after the signup, for he didn’t want to spy on Vanya like that; not before he was actually ready to come out here.

Soltic smiled. “That’s great! Thank you.”

“You’re a lot different than you were yesterday,” Barda said, unsure, but liking Soltic’s sunshine.

Soltic said, “Had a good dream last night—”

Vanya whipped a glare at Soltic.

Soltic gave a light glare in response. Did she really think that he was going to blurt out godly business here before she was ready for all that avalanche of events? Of course not. Soltic shrugged. “And I decided to shave the beard. It was getting scraggly.”

Nero and Barda glanced between them. Neither wanted to step into whatever was happening there.

So Nero said, “You two will enjoy the dungeon, but it’s no doubt simpler than what you’re used to delving. Should only take an hour for any decent pair to clear the place. Larger personal take that way, too, than if you’re going in as a full group.”

Barda said, “Still gotta give up 80% of that take to the Regency, and they’re very good about taking their cut.”

Nero let a little bit of disgust show. “They really could lower the taxes on that, but they won’t.”

At the mention of current Storm’s Edge policy again, Soltic almost directly asked them what their deal was. They didn’t seem like a plant from the Regency. In fact, they seemed like a part of an outreach program to assist people coming in looking for some dungeon delving, but who would find nothing available for them due to the way the system here was set up. Perhaps they were a direct counterpoint to the established system—

Ah.

If people weren’t allowed in the local dungeons then the Dark sometimes spawned dungeons for those people. Wild dungeons, filled with random assortments of challenge-appropriate problems. Sometimes a black [Gate] opened up that led to a dungeon that was much, much further away than the local dungeons. That was pretty rare, though. Certainly wouldn’t happen here; not so close to open, public dungeons.

The Dark didn’t give a shit about how much governments took from the dungeons, as long as people got to experience dungeons if they wanted to.

Soltic went back to Barda’s words, saying, “Vanya and I passed by the Pit on the way here, and we didn’t see any spotters at all. Are they hidden, or something?”

“Very well hidden.” Nero stuck a fork into his pancake, saying, “You enter the dungeons with whatever you have, and then when you come out, but before you’ve taken a few steps, 80% of what you’ve gained is gone. Some people call it the Gold Taker, and we still don’t know how the Regency does it. They might have a tamed reacher monster, but that’s… Probably not what is happening here.”

“Probably just [Sneak]ing veteran mages or whatever,” Barda said.

Soltic suddenly knew the purpose of those long-tendril creatures in the sky. He also realized that Nero and Barda didn’t know about the creatures in the air, and that all but confirmed that he was not a Regency plant, here to spy on any newcomers to the Dungeon Guild.

He allowed a bit of surprise to show on his face.

Nero misattributed Soltic’s surprise, saying, “Yup! They just take your gold, without you being able to stop them.”

Barda smirked. “At least it’s good that you don’t have to spend all the time counting everything, right?”

Vanya ventured, “Has to be some sort of monster plucking the things off of you as you leave.”

Nero might have offered the moon reacher variant option, but even he didn’t believe that a monster could actually do what the Gold Taker did. All he said, though, was, “Doubtful.”

Barda scrunched her face. “A group of people with special spellwork, or something. Elemental Bodies and such, no doubt.”

Nero ventured, “Maybe even that Fae Magic.”

Vanya shivered, and it was mostly an act.

“Might be a summoned thing,” Soltic asked, “Those things are pretty autonomous, right? Some sort of summoned [Familiar], like the Wizard’s.”

Ophiel almost popped up, but Erick had good control on that. As it was, he just fluffed himself up on the rafters overhead and continued his silent, unknowable and unseen watch.

“Whatever it is, it’s one of the things I don’t like about delving here. If something is that close and able to do that sort of stuff without you knowing?” With a bit of anger, Nero said, “I don’t like it.”

“Bah. Nero.” Barda said, “It’s not that bad. It’s less to carry!” She looked to Soltic and Vanya, adding, “And if you want, you can just have the Gold Taker take everything, and leave you with a little note saying how much has been added to your bank.”

“Ah!” Soltic chuckled. “I was wondering where the outprocessing was, or whatever you call it around here. We had a branch of Geode Bank located at the entrance to town; we’d leave for the depths and then come back and drop stuff off there.”

Nero’s eyes widened.

“Ahh! Holy shit.” Barda laughed a little. “ ‘The Depths’. You two really are big leagues.”

“What sort of dungeons did you guys do?” Nero asked.

Soltic looked to Vanya. He wondered if it was time to reveal the ‘Dungeon Master’ thing. This seemed like a good time to get that information out there. He said nothing, though.

Vanya decided to go for it. “I’m sort of a dungeon master for a few dungeons. So… We’ve done all kinds of dungeons, actually. Mostly very involved ones with a great deal of exports, but… Also hidden ones. I’m looking to go legit, though, in an expansive sort of way.”

Nero and Barda both went wide-eyed, then the two of them gave each other a quick look. They didn’t speak anymore on the subject, though, for it was obvious that Vanya had some secrets, and Nero and Barda had some secrets, and what had been said was enough for now.

The spy guy in the hut, 250 meters away from the guildhouse and taking notes through his mana sense, suddenly started writing down more things about Vanya, noting that she and Soltic were both necessary to investigate. Not all dungeon masters were listed on the Dungeon Guild rosters, for not every dungeon in the world was cataloged, and nor would such a thing even be possible. Quilatalap was listed on that roster, but Vanya probably had at least one or two dungeons to her fake Guild accounts. If people went searching, they might even find them… On paper, anyway.

Vanya’s words were enough to set off the appropriate alarm bells over in that hidden hut, as planned.

“Well you probably don’t want to move here,” Barda said, “It’s a wonderful town and the people are wonderful in most ways, but the dungeons are pitiful. And forget trying to change them. This whole place is stopped up more than me when I eat too much cheese.”

Soltic burst a laugh at the unexpected toilet humor. Vanya smirked. Nero smiled briefly, and so did Barda.

“Anyway,” Nero said, “The Gold Taker is not real outprocessing; that’s at ‘The Exit’, which is on the right hand side as you’re walking into this little delver’s city. Whoever the Gold Taker is, they’re good at their job, but if you don’t make their job easy then the guard comes out to find you. So it’s suggested you let the Taking happen.”

Barda asked, “Why do you say it’s a monster, Vanya?”

“Because it seems like it would be easy to make a monster that could do that,” Vanya said.

Barda’s eyes went a bit wide again.

Nero seriously asked, “Would it be easy?”

“Well.” Vanya hemmed, “Not ‘easy’. Not something I would want to actually make, either.” She changed the subject, “What are you two doing in town, if you’re not delving today? What’s there to see in the city?”

Nero easily took to the change in subject, “Storm’s Edge is wonderful. You must try the bakeries…”

They spoke for a while, long after the breakfast hour was up and done. Eventually, though, they separated. Breakfast had been great, and so had the people.

It had allowed Soltic to put off his talk with Vanya, but the tension remained, and soon… They’d talk about it.

- - - -

Soltic waited till they were back in their room and the door was shut, to say, “I thought about what happened last night and I cannot do ‘no contact’. I want another way.”

Quilatalap took one look at Erick, and said, “We’ll both be alive five years from now, and then for many more years after that. I ask you not to make this emotional and difficult. I still love you. You still love me, right? Could we simply enjoy our time here? Instead of worrying about the future?”

Erick paused, wondering if he should say what he really wanted to say. If it was smart, or good, or whatever you wanted to call the tangle of emotions that were crushing his heart right now.

He decided he did want to continue.

“I love you, too, but I am not sure you actually love me, or if you were just using me for the protection I could provide, and if that difference even matters.”

Okay.

Shit.

He had said it.

Fuck.

Quilatalap froze. And then he thawed in small parts. In the shoulders of his current body, and then in his breath, and then in his eyes. A deep sadness seemed to envelop the room, centered on Quilatalap.

Erick waited.

In a slow, perfect sort of way, Quilatalap cast a spell that enveloped the room, tendrils of power slowly taking over the space, as he said, “This is a spell that will fool all onlookers into seeing us talk about things that don’t matter.”

To distract himself, Erick wondered why he didn’t have that spell yet. Perhaps he would have that spell if he had bothered to keep up with his magic as much as he should have, but he had had a nation to run…

And silence was stretching, because Quilatalap didn’t know what to say, either.

And then Quilatalap looked directly at Erick, and spoke softly, “I don’t love like normal people. My emotions are not natural. I am a lich. My emotions are the product of inscribing those emotions into my being, and creating a body to house and more easily enable those emotions. Nothing about me is natural. I do a decent job faking most of the time, and relations of all sorts help to solidify those emotions as real, for if I don’t have any normal relationships then I start to get weird. It’s a problem that all liches suffer from.

“About ten days into our relationship, back at the overtaking of the Sovereign Cities, I decided to make myself love you. And so I did.

“I have not regretted this decision. I still love you, in all the ways I can.

“And I have chosen to keep loving you, because I have decided that I enjoy you, as a person. And yes, you have given me an opportunity… Safety. All of that. But if I did not like you, then I would have simply left. You are not the only person in this world who I can ally myself with, but you are the one I choose to continue with, into this great big future that The Wizard of Benevolence is creating for us all. I’m very glad that you’re still just Erick to me, though.

“Are you okay with that? With how I am? If you are not… then…” His voice trailed away.

Erick had a minor whirlwind of thoughts.

Erick had tried a phylactery experiment with Quilatalap years ago, back when he was still going for Full Wizard accretion, and there had been a lot of focus on creating the brain properly, and using various bits of Book Magic and Mind Magic and the study of living subjects and quite a lot of pure artistry. Erick hadn’t been able to do the Mind Magic, though, so the project was mostly halted there.

“I thought that liches created bodies and the bodies held emotions, because that is what biology does, with serotonin and other chemicals and pathways in the brain.” Erick looked to Quilatalap. “But you changed yourself in your soul.”

An accusation. A change that Erick had not known.

A self-made soul-mutilation, in order to make all the rest of what was to come easier?

“I did,” Quilatalap said, without remorse. “And I kept that love strong because of many different reasons. Primarily that I like who you are, and you fit well with every part of me. Your love of magic, your ability to stand on your own. Your power.”

They hadn’t ever had this conversation before, but they had had shades of this conversation. Glimpses in the dark. But now, the truth of Quilatalap stood out there. He was a self-constructed person, who chose who to love, and then made that love happen.

Erick had known that Quilatalap made himself, but the depth of that creation had been talked around; obfuscated until now.

Was he any better, though, for his own reasons for loving Quilatalap? No. What a weird thought. ‘Better than’. Bah! Power was a perfectly reasonable reason to love someone—

Oh.

Holy shit.

Why had Erick even brought this up.

He loved Quilatalap because Quilatalap was capable of defending himself from anything and everything. He had survived an attack by Melemizargo’s Champion. He had survived the Sundering. He was powerful, and that was the only real thing that made this relationship work between them.

So what if he made himself love Erick after only… A couple of weeks, most spent in a [Hasted Shelter].

Erick’s face flushed red in embarrassment. “I did not know you changed yourself that early in our relationship. I love you, too. I’m… Sorry that I brought it up.”

Quilatalap grinned a little, in a sad sort of way. “I’m sorry that this is happening, Erick. That we’re being separated like this. But I want to walk openly, all around the world. I don’t want to upset the offer on the table, either.”

“Of course. Of course. I’m an idiot. Sorry. Yes, you want this… I know that— I’m just worried. Worried about a lot. Worried… Just worried.” He strongly added, “And I don’t like that Sininindi simply doesn’t want me around Everbless, so that’s why I can’t be around here. That particular fact has always been annoying, but acceptable.” He looked at Quilatalap, at ‘Vanya’. “It’s not really acceptable anymore, and I’m not sure how to fight that without ruining this for you… or for Yggdrasil.”

Quilatalap said, “It’s only 5 years. I’m not going to change myself in that much time.” And then, scared yet hiding it, he asked, “Are you?”

“Imight!” Erick blurted.

Quilatalap just stood there.

“I’m supposed to become a Full Wizard at the end of this and there’s surely going to be some big shit happening when I free Yggdrasil, and I want you there by my side, Quilatalap. Not just because you’re you, but because I wantyou there.”

Quilatalap straightened. “Ah.”

“Yes! ‘Ah’.” Erick relaxed. “So I’m worried.”

Quilatalap instantly said, “Tell Sininindi that you’re not going to do this without being allowed to visit.”

Ah.

He reversed that…

That quick?

“… You’re okay with potentially ruining this? Or having her request even more from you than she already has? Because that’s the impression I got from her when we spoke.” And you have that impression, too.

“I am not okay with ruining this, but… Maybe it won’t be ruined if you ask to change some small things. Maybe letters?” Quilatalap decided, “Letters would be good. What did she say to you? Exactly?”

“To stay away. No contact, 5 years. Bare contact through [Telepathy]. It was rather sparse, but repeated a few different ways; she made herself clear. What did she tell you?”

Quilatalap wasn’t sure where to begin, so he started with, “I must embody ‘Vanya’ for 5 years, or until my cover is blown by someone else, and if that should happen then I should continue my work anyway, and the problem will be resolved through… Well. She wants you to solve that political issue if politics should happen.”

“And I will. Gladly.”

Quilatalap smiled a little. “She wants me to become a part of the community here; hopefully as Vanya, but if my cover is blown, then I will be a part of the community as Quilatalap, and she will protect me as long as I operate within her requirements. I don’t foresee that being a problem. But until my cover is blown, even inside the dungeon I cannot be myself until I can create a Grand Dungeon space. According to what she wants, I expect it will likely take me and a repro about a year of work to get the dungeon operational and the Second Script worked out properly. The dungeon she wants is extensive and I’m looking forward to it, because she wants to make extensive use of the False Society option, so I know I’m going to miss any sort of weekly checkup though [Telepathy].” He added, “But… You should be able to visit. Maybe not every night, but… More than a 5 year wait. Letters, at least.”

Erick realized a current truth.

Even if contact was allowed, Quilatalap would want to call off 9 out of every 10 dates, and he’d be working overtime. He’d barely be a part of anyone’s lives, except for the life of the dungeon he wanted to create.

“You’re really interested in the project.”

“Yes. A lot.” Quilatalap grinned. And then his grin faltered. “It’s. Uh. A big project. I’m pretty sure that you’d have to personally barge into my life to bring me out of working-mode like you have a few times before.” He rapidly added, “Nothing is going to happen to my love for you, but I understand that you’re going to be going through a lot, so if something should happen, and if you need me, I’ll be there for you. But also… I know how pure-biologic emotions work, and last night when I asked if you wanted to talk about our relationship, I was worried that maybe you'd think that you were going to fall out of love with me… If you were away for 5 years, or more like 10 or even 20, with Time Magic and becoming a pure Paradox Wizard.” Quilatalap stated, “You’re the one much more likely to fall out of love here.”

Erick’s heart skipped several beats. He wanted to decry Quilatalap’s theory. But…

Quilatalap was the 3000 year old immortal. He had been through this sort of thing several times before.

Quilatalap breathed deep, then looked straight at Erick, and said, “We’ve never really talked about that, but I think it’s time.”

Neither of them had sat down yet. They were both standing in the center of the room, both of them moving around a little as they spoke. Both of them were still looking like Soltic and Vanya. But now, Quilatalap sat down in one of two chairs by the wall. He gestured to the other.

Erick sat down across from Quilatalap.

Quilatalap said, “I’ve known Paradox Wizards before. I am a follower of Phagar, and I have known a lot of Paradox Wizards. I think you’ll make a good one when it finally happens. But there’s something about all that which you don’t realize. Something that maybe only I or Melemizargo or Phagar could ever really talk about with you.

“You’re going to live forever, Erick.

“But more than that: You’re going to travel through time and back again. You probably already have, and you don’t know it yet, and I mean more than a [Return] or whatever. Much more. From one chronologically-connected day to the next, you might have lived a thousand years in another time. Another place. And then you will have come back to wherever you were before, and you will be changed in ways that no one else has been changed.

“It’s going to be lonely. You’re going to have to ensure you remain sane, all on your own. You will see worlds crumble and rise, and civilizations fall and be born again from books left over and then found in an excavation, a hundred years later. More than an immortal, you will become unbound by causality.

“And I’ll be here.

“Just being myself, living through life at a normal pace, accidentally teaching someone something they shouldn’t know, probably trying to clean up a mess or ten. People think that as an archlich I’m some amazing person, or some horror from beyond the Dark, but the truth is I’m just a guy who chooses how he wants to be, and my life is much, much smaller than everyone thinks. I’ll be here, and you’ll be elsewhere, and that’s okay.

“I’m okay with not seeing you for a hundred years, and then picking up right where we left off. I can do that. I have done that. There have been others before you, that I have loved, and been loved in return.” With dry eyes, because he wouldn’t allow himself to shed a tear, he said, “If one of them should show up miraculously then I’d hope we could all get along together. But they won’t...

“I don’t want to say their names because that hurts, but I have done the disjointed relationship thing with others. Sometimes out of necessity, sometimes because we go our separate ways and then meet later and take up where we left off because we want to.

“But time makes a mockery of relationships, and the need for comfort causes all sorts of problems that are best headed off before they happen. To that end, most people like me, like you, have had relations outside of each other, because sometimes that’s just what happens.

“I haven’t done that with you, though, because we had that talk early on, and we agreed on a closed relationship.” Quilatalap said, “But once you become a Full Paradox Wizard, things are going to change. If you should find yourself stranded a thousand years in the future, and you can’t come back, but I’m still there? In that future? I’ll pick up right where I left with you, or I might have moved on, and we’ll make some decisions at that time. But it’s good to know, now, the shape of what might happen there in the future. Or even in the past.

“Paradox Wizards often go both ways, and sometimes even sideways, and there’s no telling what sort of people you will meet, or where Time will take you.

“This five year thing happening right now is not a big deal to me, except that it is a big deal to you.” Quilatalap said, “How big of a deal it is, is completely dependent on your feelings and what you want, Erick. I’m not going to stop loving you; that part of me will always be part of my soul.”

Too many thoughts. Too many spiraling futures.

All that really mattered, though, was that Quilatalap loved Erick, and Erick loved Quilatalap. The exact nature of that love was barely a concern.

Erick rose from his chair, took Quilatalap’s hands into his own, and felt the quickening pulse of their beating hearts in his hands. “I love you. Change back to Quilatalap please.” Erick changed back, too, turning his full height as his crown of black horns came out.

Quilatalap smiled, chuckled, changed, and stood eye-level with Erick, his green skin radiant as the rest of him. His soul revealed itself next. That tooth-lined maw might be the last time Erick got to see him, as he truly was, for a while. Because Quilatalap wasn’t really his body. Quilatalap was his soul.

Erick wasn’t at that stage quite yet, but eventually, he would be a crystal pretending to be a person. It wasn’t quite the same, but it was similar. In the coming centuries… Well. Those would happen as they happened, and all that time was far, far away.

Five years was nothing.

But five years was still five years.

“Ophiel is going to miss you, too,” Erick said.

The little guy dropped down from overhead, unfurling into a ball of wings and eyes, to land atop Erick’s head. He held onto Erick’s black horns as he twittered in happy notes. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he knew enough to ask, “Quilatalap hiding?”

“For a little while,” Quilatalap said.

“Okay!” Ophiel said, and then he hopped off of Erick’s head, and went back to hiding in the mana. “I hide, too!”

“You’re very good at hiding, Ophiel,” Quilatalap said, holding Erick’s hands. “But could you give your father and I a little while alone?”

Ophiel turned his many eyes away, and that was enough.

Erick asked Quilatalap a quiet question about the strength of the hiding magics. Quilatalap said they were strong enough for the next hour, for whatever they wanted to do, for all intruding sounds and sights and mana sense would all be fooled while this magic held well, and it was holding very well.

They made that hour count.

Afterward, Erick said, “Let me know when you want me to step in and help with all of this. Or when the time for hiding is over.”

“I will,” Quilatalap said, softly.

- - - -

Soltic stepped to the edge of the kilometers-wide, open air Pit.

Storm’s Edge’s dungeons rested like black holes-in-the-world, hovering above channels Shaped into what had been a natural, central valley 15 years ago. Before that, it had been a land of rainforest, dense with whatever monsters Storm’s Edge couldn’t clear from the trees fast enough. Now it was a place of bare rock, craters, landshaping, and yes, monsters. Right now some monsters were even floating up the southern monster road, headed up from the southeastern side of the island. They had been flying for a while, probably, guided by the thick mana that held upon the Shaped road, a hundred meters down from where Soltic stood, with Vanya.

These particular monsters were floating whales, 5 of them. Small ones, too. Streamlined and about 4 meters long, they were bright black and the air around them seemed saturated with some sort of unknown power. They floated in perfect formation, too, which was another oddity.

Soltic pointed to the ‘whales’ hovering atop the road, so far below. “Don’t think I’ve seen that type before.” He looked back to Vanya, and felt his heart buoy with a small surety of joy. “Any idea what they are?”

With bright eyes, Vanya said, “The common name is shadow whales. Rather rare, actually! They’re a hive-type, all one monster, which starts from a single whale which soaks in the shadows long enough to produce a second whale. They have a whole life cycle of making many of themselves and then making one large enough to produce live births. That one looks like an adult which has lost its birther.” She said to Erick, “Five whales is about as large as a normal pod gets.”

“Dangerous?”

“I’d rate it at about a 5 star threat; any veteran adventurer could handle a smaller group like that. The non-flying version is much more common, and that’s only a 4 star threat. A pod with a birther in it is a 6 star threat. They were made by the Shades of Ar’Kendrithyst about 800 years ago in an effort to produce a smart predator into the oceans. The non-monster variant is grey dolphin, which came about later due to some necromancers of Quintlan messing with the base monster.”

Soltic smiled as he listened to Vanya. “You’re amazing.”

“Ehhh! You know all of this stuff, too.”

Soltic laughed. “I most certainly do not!”

“Well... Maybe not the deeper history.” Vanya demurred, “Let’s suit up.”

Both of them were in their adventuring clothes; comfortable pants, long sleeve shirts, small backpacks filled with a few essentials but not much at all. No gloves. Decent boots, but not solid boots, made to take real abuse. It was a standard delver’s outfit, all the better to wrap themselves in [Conjure Armor] and to grasp [Conjure Weapon]s with, for those would provide the actual defenses; the clothes were just for comfort.

They cast those defensive spells now.

Soltic swirled with shadows, wrapping himself in metallic black armor; the same color as his magic. It was utilitarian and smooth, able to provide some protection from glancing blows, without providing places for claws to find purchase. The helmet fully covered his head and would provide safe air for breathing for as long as they didn’t piss off the dungeon. If they did that, then the controlling force behind the dungeon might just [Dispel] his armor, and he’d be back to simply wearing his adventuring outfit.

The dungeon should play nice with them, though, since their plan was to play nice with it.

Vanya covered herself with the same shape of armor, but hers was purple.

They were each a 7-Star rated adventurer, and both of them could be relied upon to kill a rampaging wyrm or two on their own, and they certainly looked the part. Mostly. But even fully kitted out, they were still considered naked in some circles. Years ago, before the dungeons had come about, a standard adventuring team of Soltic and Vanya’s star rating would have each worn a bandolier of wands of various flavor, from [Force Bolt] to [Treat Wounds] if they were really rich; magic to test out various dangerous looking things without needing to expend their own mana, and magic to heal, when they got fucked up.

But now, with the dungeons, things had changed.

Because most Script spellwork didn’t work on the other side of those [Gate]s to Darkness (unless someone knew the trick and had a core to utilize the trick) wands and other Script-supported magic items were useless. Some dungeons allowed for some Script magics, but not here, not at the Pit of Storm’s Edge. Healing Magic was almost universally disallowed inside every dungeon, with few exceptions, but Healing Magic wasn’t truly necessary inside a dungeon like it was out here in the real world. When people died in a dungeon, as they often did, they were brought back through a [True Resurrection], and either thrown outside or deposited in a safe area. For the Pit, they were deposited near the entrance.

Erick hoped he wouldn’t need to experience that phenomenon. He hadn’t been in many dungeons except for Quilatalap’s, and that was on purpose. These places were very capable of killing a person. Quilatalap died regularly when he went inside unknown dungeons and poked around.

If necessary, Erick still had all of his power to draw upon, if he wished, but a manual [Witness] was still possible inside a dungeon space; a dungeon couldn’t stop normal magic from working. It couldn’t stop aura control, and elemental bodies, and various baser, more personal magics, like one’s draconic nature. So, if necessary, Erick could [Luminous Beam] whatever lay inside, but that would give away the game to whoever might be inside, watching, be they dungeon master or someone else...

“What’s the dungeon master look like again?” Soltic asked. “I know almost nothing about this dungeon and I know you don’t either, but... What are we not supposed to kill?”

Vanya hopped into the air, the world fracturing under her purple Force boots and along her edges as she held herself aloft on basic Force Magic, to float past the lip of the Pit. “I’m sure it’ll be obvious!” she said, perhaps a bit too happy about the unknown awaiting them. “Let’s just tackle it like any old unknown dungeon!”

Soltic held himself back from complaining about that.

Vanya seemed happy.

So Soltic stepped into the air, like he was stepping upon stone; the wind turning solid underfoot, and that patch of [Stone Air] turning controllable at his whim. He was a Stone Warrior, and so that all made sense. Not as versatile as a Stone Mage, but he got by with the few tricks he was capable of casting himself. He allowed one of those tricks to show now; With a flick of his hand, he summoned a standard-shaped longsword in his right hand, but that sword shimmered with Force and Metal Magic. Soltic dabbled in Metalwork, too.

Erick had chosen this ‘Stone Warrior’ facade because almost everything about his natural durability was explained by the durability of properly cast Stone Magic. Erick, of course, still had access to every single Elemental Body, but for now, as Soltic, the only ones he would be using were [Stone Body], and some aura control. Primarily aura control, though, because [Stone Body]… Well. Stone Magic might fail altogether inside the dungeon.

And sometimes diving into the stone was like diving into an open maw.

Soltic and Vanya descended from the lip of the Pit, down onto the walkway that led to Dungeon 5 about 500 meters away.

Soltic asked, “How much of our kits can we expect to have access to?”

“A good amount!” Vanya said, smiling as she stepped down onto the ground of the Pit. She led the way forward, a conjured shield of Force appearing at her right, hovering at her command. She looked around as she walked, saying, “Now when is that Gold Taker going to show… Or has it already. Hmm.”

The ‘Gold Taker’ had already touched them and acknowledged them as they were descending; the invisible, ethereal, kilometers-wide tentacle monster tapped them with the very tips of its tendrils, paying special attention to the rings and badges that identified them, before moving on. Neither of them had felt the touch at all, and the Gold Taker hadn’t felt out Ophiel, either, who hung out in the air around Soltic and Vanya. Ophiel kept back on purpose, though, so there was no chance of him being found.

Probably.

He wouldn’t be going in the dungeon, either.

Everything was going well, really. Both of them knew that they would be scrutinized by people with [Witness] once it became clear that Vanya was here to change the dungeons, so it was best to pretend for a longer con.

Soltic waved his sword back and forth as he walked, as though he was fending away some invisible thing— And then he stopped that, and said, “Ah. We’re not supposed to engage with the Gold Taker, are we?”

Vanya smiled as she briefly turned back toward Soltic. “Best not.”

Soltic held his sword at the ready, but not actively.

They encountered nothing untoward as they made it all the way to the dungeon entrance, where a black ring hung in the air like a gaping hole in the world. Beyond that space was a land of open air and stone roads.

Vanya went first. Soltic went second.

Ophiel flitted away, off to have an adventure of his own, no doubt, while his father was busy inside the Domain of the Dark.