I staggered to my feet, confused, and tired beyond tired, but still with enough presence of mind to realize that I was under attack. Again.

Whatever had hit me in the side of my head wasn’t too solid or heavy. It felt more like a sack of elderberries and thin wood, but that aside, I still didn’t know who or what exactly was attacking me.

“Hey, what is happening out there?” The low voice said again.

“Not. Now. George.”

“George?” There was an indignant, metal-y huff as I scanned the area around me for movement. “I’m a wolf, not a George.”

A wolf?

“Sure.” I mumbled. I didn’t have time for crazy. Then, I saw something at the edge of my light.

There! Below that rock – no wait, it is the rock! Rock-shaped. Whatever it is, it’s moving and it’s not alone.

Out of the dark came four creatures. They ranged from the size of my head to around half that and they crawled leisurely along the ground towards me.

Focus. They’re just some weird looking bugs. Are those giant… fleas?

The answer came as the smallest thing jumped at my leg. It was very sudden, like a rabbit kicking off the ground. I kicked it out of reflex, the sound of thin carapace breaking against my metal greaves.

“Hey! Hey, don’t walk away!” I don’t know what you’re talking about George, you’re right here on my shoulder. Snug and safe.

Anyways, the small insect thing got absolutely annihilated as I introduced it to my armored shin. The disgusting creature folded around my leg and bounced to the side and off into the darkness.

Ow, my leg is… fine? Oh. Good. One down. That was… easy?

Then another one jumped at my head from the side. I ducked, because at that point, the largest one too came barreling towards me from the same direction and I was having none of that.

They both missed and I staggered forward at the last remaining one that hadn’t moved yet. I got right up towards it and tried to stab it with my broken sword.

It jumped backwards, leaving me to awkwardly stumble in the mud. A hard thud hit me in the back of my chestplate – bless armor, by the way – as what felt like the larger one failed to find purchase on the metal plate.

Ow. Still hurts though. These things are heavy! Are they, like, what, oversized fleas?

“Hey, what is going on?” Nothing important George. Go do rat things.

I turned around and what did indeed look like a head-sized flea was scrambling to right itself on the stony ground. It motioned to jump away, and I didn’t think I wanted that, so I stepped on one of its legs. It jumped anyways.

Have I ever mentioned that these fleas can jump hard? Well, they can, and I was even starting to feel a tad dizzy after the first one hit me in the head. But I held my weight on its leg nonetheless.

Crunch.

It leaped away, leaving behind a single limb broken at the knee. A knee. They had a few knees, but that was beside the point. The big one was limping now, or, well, flopping around clumsily like a fish on land.

Serves you right, you bloodsucking bug!

I really wanted to go over and finish it off, but I had two other flea-sized problems to deal with first. Except I could only see one…

“Don’t turn your back!” the low voice said. Way to go George, now that’s some prime advice.

Except that it was a teeny, tiny bit too late. Immediately, something hit me in the back of my left calve, and before I could even regain my balance, I felt the unwelcome feeling of hooked legs digging into my skin. I only had metal armor on the front of my lower leg after all and the cloth and bandages on the back were old and pretty much useless.

Dammit, get off me!

I tried stomping on it with my other foot, but just slipped off its carapace, painfully dislodging half of its legs from my body which it quickly reattached. It was keeping as close as it could to my leg and despite the first one having been easily dispatched, their carapace made it hard to find purchase on their body.

Then, something hit me in the head again, hard enough for me to stumble and fall over. For a moment, the confusion I felt towards the situation of fighting oversized parasites made way for that good ol’ fear for my life again.

I shouldn’t be here. Coming here was a mistake. The swamp is bad, the people want to kill me and even the bugs are built different.

I was arrogant, I didn’t plan at all, I was not prepared, why am I trying to be a hero, what’s wrong with you, they’re just some bugs, c’mon, you’re not even trying…

I heard a painful squeak and that was all it took to snap me back to reality. I quickly pushed myself off the ground, allowing whatever part of George was stuck under me to get free. He did, scampering away with considerable rat-like speed.

I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to squish you. I hope it wasn’t your leg. Hopefully just your tail.

When I tried getting up, I felt the very unwelcome feeling piercing of something boring into my leg, drilling and ripping right into my muscle. I yanked at the flea stuck to my leg, but it was really, really stuck on that.

“STOP. DRINKING. ME!”

“The stomach! GO FOR THE UNDERSIDE!” the voice yelled. Once again, and I cannot stress this enough, great advice, George!

I grabbed my sword and wedged it underneath the belly of the thing. Immediately, I felt it tense up as I wiggled and pushed the blade deeper, meeting more hard plating.

But it was thin enough and as the flea desperately tried to un–burrow its needle–mouth and hooked feet from my leg, my sword cracked the weaker belly plates and slipped into the squishy insides. I wrenched it off my leg completely, standing up and looking around for the suspiciously absent fourth one.

Which… apparently just ran away. Cool. Yeah, that’s, that’s great.

I let out a relieved sigh. Very relieved. I don’t think I really know the words to describe what it feels like to have that thing attached to your leg, ripping and hooking and piercing and slurping and…

I’m totally not gonna look over my shoulder nervously wherever I go now. Nope. Never. Not me! I’m not paranoid. Haha.

My eyes nervously flitted around in case I miscounted; in case there were more.

Right. There was still another one I hadn’t finished off. I staggered over to the big flea, still desperately trying to jump in circles on the floor.

Sorry buddy, but you bit off more than you can chew… suck? Slurp? Ugh, I don’t want to think about it. You’re a bug and thereby basically a spider, which means ridding the world of you is a good thing. I don’t make the rules, sorry.

I stabbed it through the underbelly as well before I started feeling my heart calm down. My leg really, really hurt and it was just bleeding like nobody’s business from a comparatively small hole.

I was genuinely worried I’d bleed out if not for… Harris’ wonder cream!

…Ok, let’s not call it that. Ever again. Please.

I unscrewed the wooden ball of wyckwax and smeared it all over the offending parts of my leg. I especially made sure to stuff the biggest wound with enough to seal it good and proper. This stuff was a real lifesaver, but I was starting to run low on supplies.

And the more I thought about it, the more I felt that it was a good thing. It was just one of many signs that I was in way over my head here. I should have just headed back to the temple the moment I didn’t get swallowed whole by that giant swamp-fish.

The taste of mud, gurgling, muted scre–

I tried to inhale and exhale, to take in a few deep breaths, letting the wax dry and harden over my wounds. I was sitting in a puddle of wet mud and dead bug, but I needed to just… take a moment. The wet rainy air had the ever-slightest tinge of an iron smell and the stuff that came out of a ladybug’s knees to it.

…Ok seriously, why do I remember what that in particular smells like, but I don’t even know the name of my Mum? My Dad? Or a single one of my – alleged – seventeen brothers and sisters? This isn’t fair, it’s stupid. It’s like my mind’s out to give me the most absolutely useless memories out of all of them!

I felt a conspiracy brewing. Maybe that was just the rain, though. And the smell of dead bug soul.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Ugh, that’s making me feel sick. Guess that’s my cue to get up and leave.

I sighed, looking around for George. I found him, in a part where the stone pavement was slightly slumped downwards, as if it was falling into a hole. George was sitting there, sniffing the ground. For all intents and purposes, he looked like a rat, doing normal rat-things.

But I knew. I heard his voice. He talked to me. Screw all this insanity bullshit, I know what I heard! And if my rat-friend can talk to me, why shouldn’t I talk to him as well?

A smile widened on my tired face as squatted down and picked him up. I had someone to talk to, even if it was just a rat. But George was a good boy. There was no doubt about that. He had a weird, low voice that didn’t quite fit him, but that didn’t bother me too much. He was my friend, eternal and good.

“You’re. A. Silly. Little. Rat. George.”

“A RAT?” I flinched at the suddenly very loud voice, dropping him with an unceremonious flop to the ground. The small squeak he let out hurt me within my soul.

“No-George. I­–I. Didn’t. Mean. To…”

A human arm came out of a hole in the ground in front of me. I pulled my feet back and franticly shoved myself away from it.

No. Nonono, what fresh horror is this now? I’m not ready, I’ve had enough, I’m leaving.

“Hey! Wait, don’t go!” The arm barely reached up past its wrist, before slinking down, holding on to a metal bar.

C-calm down, Rye. Breathe. J–just a hand. A normal human hand. The hole was there the entire time. I just overlooked it. That’s the only explanation. Breathe, be calm.

But I wasn’t calm, and I was tired, hands shaking from exhaustion. But above all, I was scared.

Anything can happen out here in the dark. Nothing I do matters, I can’t see, I can’t run, I don’t know where I am, I have no control and I can’t even protect my little George.

George who was next to the hole. George who was sniffing the hand with great interest. Images of the hand taking him and pulling him underground flashed through my mind. To be eaten by some half human monstrosity, to be taken from me by, by, by….

Something in my mind clicked way later than it should have. I wasn’t talking to George before. George couldn’t talk, of course. He was a rat. There was someone else. Someone at the other end of that hand.

“H-hello?” I asked tentatively.

“Hello! Yes, over here.” The hand waved, facing slightly to my right. Another person. Another someone, like Harris, someone I can talk to. A friend, a friend, a friend! Another voice in the void!

I took ‘not bursting into happy tears as my achievement for the day.

I crept two steps forward, keeping an eye on the hand. There was an urgency to its movements and for a moment, I forgot my surroundings, narrowing my vision completely on that one lone limb in the dark. A thought came to me, an invasive one, and I paused.

But it could be a trap. Everyone wants to kill me. I’m a demon. It’s only natural. Maybe the others were demons too, but I don’t want to make any excuses. I killed them.

My hands wandered to my shield and sword. Weary, and still winding down from the initial shock and my previous scraps, I sat crouched just five feet away from the hole in the ground. It was rimmed with stone and metal, the bar the hand was holding on to was one of many, old and rusted but strong. It was either a well or a prison. Maybe both.

If they see me, are they going to attack me as well?

I didn’t want an answer. I’d find out if I approached, no doubt about it. But I just sat there, outside of arm’s reach, looking at but not inside the hole.

“Hey! Are you listening to me?” The voice. Right. It belonged to the person in the well.

“Y-yes. I’m. here.”

“Are the bugs dead?”

“Y-yes.

“Good. Very good. Is it raining?”

The steady pitter–patter had stopped already. “No.” I said, immediately feeling another twinge of guilt. “Not. Anymore.”

“Good, good. Help me out down here, the bars are locked, and I’d like to not be stuck here for the rest of eternity.” The hand pointed slightly left and indeed, there was a keyhole on a metal plate to the side of the bars.

There’s no way I can just force that open! I’d have to get closer; I don’t even know who or what is down there. I can’t trust him, I can’t, I can’t, I–“

“I. Can’t. No. Key.” That was my excuse. It was true no matter how you read it, effectively pushing the responsibility away from me. It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s that I couldn’t.

That was met with a long silence. George squeaked. He seemed to have had enough of sniffing around the hole as he came skittering back to me. I let him get up on my shoulder again, thinking of what to say.

“So… You’re. A. wolf?” There was a snort of sorts.

“Was. Am. Once upon a time, I was not stuck in a hole in the ground, but what does it matter?”

“Wolves. Hunt. Kill. Bad.” They were. An image of a dead sheep caught in the mouth of a wolf played in my head, blurry yet with such vivid sharpness as if I’d seen it with my own eyes. The sheep’s head lolled, and its eyes looked on stupidly to the side. I shook my head to get rid of it.

There was a laugh like a bark. “Yes, we don’t have the best reputation among mortals.”

Another round of silence.

“Why. Are. You. In. A. Hole?”

“I was put here by the damned warden.” The wolf said, barely containing a growl.

It was an odd dissonance, seeing the human hand – armored with dark metal gloves, casually gesturing around – and hearing the voice that sounded like it could very well belong to a talking animal.

“I… made a mistake. Was overwhelmed. Too many, I couldn’t slay them all. They did not stop, they made too much noise and I was left in this cell, to rot.”

Flashes of my fight against the three people shortly before hit me again. A bludgeon to the head, a stab to the wrist. The face of the first guy as I stabbed him. Weight on me like a boulder, the sound of bone cracking against stone, the…

It could have gone very differently.

The sound of metal tapping impatiently on metal caught my attention again.

“I. Fought. Too. I. Had. To. Defend. People. Kill. I–I. I…” My voice seized. I couldn’t say more. Not that I was a murderer. That I was an idiot playing at being a knight.

That I’m a demon.

These unsaid things hung in the air and even if only I could see, I really hoped he didn’t pick up on them. He didn’t, albeit he wasn’t entirely without pity.

“…you are tired, by the sounds of it.”

“Mhm.”

“…you have woken up just recently?”

“Mhm.”

“That is… harsh. It is difficult, is it not?” he said that with a sense of understanding that hit me deep within my heart. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away.

Godsdammit, not now. Don’t embarrass me now, no matter how much I needed to hear it, a short affirmation, the acknowledgement that he knew, that that’s just how it is out here. That it’s not just me being a screwup.

I think my voice still betrayed how I felt, breaking slightly. “…yeah.”

There was a long period of silence, interspersed by the occasional clack-clack-clack of metal fingertips on rusted bars before he spoke up again.

“Tell you what: You help me, find the key and free me from this blasted prison and I… I shall pledge my service to thee.” Another snort. “It has been a long time since was required to I utter those words.”

I put a hand on George, stroking him. That helped me think and calm down a bit.

Squeak.

Yes George, it’s a good deal. A very good deal. That’s a large hand. Armor. A deep voice. He’s big, no doubt. Big and strong. He can help. He can help me find a way out. Why shouldn’t I accept?

“Ok–“

Squeak.

Yes, yes that’s right. We can’t trust him. We don’t even know his name. We haven’t seen his face. He could deceive us, and we wouldn’t notice it at all.

Squeak?

We should make him swear. Swear an oath, on something he holds dear. On the gods, on the sun or his mother and father. Yes, yes, we’ll go with that. Oaths are binding after all.

“Swear. It.”

“On whom?”

“On. That. Which. You. Hold. Dear–cough–est.”

He took a moment, probably to think it over. An oath was no small matter indeed, and oath breakers were always found and severely punished. By the gods, their servants or by fate. Breaking a pact always spelled doom an misfortune.

“Very well.” He said, “I swear upon thy name, my distant lady, to serve…”

“Rye.”

“…Lady Rye, should thou lend thine assistance in freeing me.”

“Unconditionally.” I added.

“…in any way thou demand.”

“Forever.” I couldn’t see into the hole, but I swear I felt more than a hint of anger emit from it.

“Until thou release me from my duty or the debt of a life is paid. This I swear before the gods.”

Fair enough. I was being a bit… rash and unfair. Forever was a long time and maybe I was demanding a bit much, but who could blame me? I needed anyone, anything that could help me survive in this wretched hell and as it so happened, Wolf here was a likely candidate for “anyone”.

He even swore an oath to his lady! Just think, George, he has a lady that he swears to. A lady, someone who’s waiting for him out there. That’s so friggin cool! He has to be a knight, or a lost hero, a servant of the gods or, or, or… probably not an angel or a demon, seeing as he doesn’t glow, but still! The possibilities!

My mind was jumping with joy, conjuring up the wildest stories about this person I had barely met and hadn’t even seen yet.

What adventures did he go on, did he fight bears with his bare hands, did he drink an ogre (ogre’s weren’t real) under the table, did he uncover conspiracies and save the empire in a selfless act of self-sacrifice? Was that why he was out here in a hole, banished far away despite having done untold heroics, away from assassins and intrigue and…

Calm down a bit, me. Whoo, everything’s spinning. Let’s not get overzealous.

While I am very excited about finding a potential companion, a knight no less, I feel a bit bad taking advantage of him when he evidently has no choice but to trust me. At least I get to choose to put my trust in him or not. I should say something, do something.

I stood up on my feet, legs still shaky, but with the will to stand tall. Power of will was probably all I’d be working on for the near future. Good thing I was almost all filled up on that now.

It wasn’t a mistake to come here! There are people in need, here and, well, I’m no hero, but I can at least help.

“I. Will. Get. You. Out. I. Swear.” Swear on what? No idea, I still didn’t remember one single damn name from my past life. “On. My. Mother.” There, better.

He snorted.

Hey, I’m trying my best over here! I just need to take small steps. One foot in front of the other.

I stepped away from the hole in the ground, hoping I’d not just find the key, but also somehow make my way back here. Confidence! I need to be confident. I have a goal. I can help someone.

“Your little guide will show you the way.” The wolf’s hand pointed roughly in my direction. I looked down at the small ball of fur in my hands. George, a guide? Sure, yeah, why not. Not the craziest thing I’ve heard today.

I put him on the ground. Lead the way little guy! He sampled the air, then scurried off in one direction. I followed.

“Rye.” The wolf said as the hole disappeared from my circle of dim light.

“…yes?”

“You will note the warden by the sound of his mail. He is large. Very large. He keeps the keys on a necklace around his neck. Do not try to fight him, you will lose.” Aaand there goes my confidence.

“Anything. Else?” I asked, hoping that I could maybe still just sneak in and out, quick twenty-minute adventure.

“If you hear chanting or the murmur of many people, lay down and be completely still.” Ok… weird advice, but I’ve had weirder things happen, like talking to a toothy frog. Toad. Whatever.

“Is. That. All?”

“The warden has an armored beard.” An armored beard? Really? Is that that important to know? Maybe he has a very long beard. Maybe it’s his weakness? No, that’s just stupid.

I took one more step ahead.

“And Rye.”

“Yes?” I was almost getting slightly annoyed. Which was a great, nearly normal human reaction. I could definitely say that my mind was feeling a lot more grounded after that conversation with the wolf in the hole. My day had started off… rough, but I daresay that it was getting better. Or at least not getting worse.

“I know it is hard out there. But should it start raining again, know that this hole I’m in will fill up above the brim. I will drown, given time.” He said it so casually, but what he said was serious. Dead serious.

No joke, if there was anything that could have motivated me any more than I already was, it was the constant threat of not just losing my own life but the thought of condemning another person to death by drowning, of all things, lingering at the back of my mind.

As I walked away, one foot at a time, I felt renewed purpose lace my steps.

I can’t fail. This time, if I fail, someone else will pay the price.

A thick lump formed in the back of my throat, but I paid it no mind. I had to keep moving. I had a bearded, armored warden to find and a wolf to save.

And then, maybe I could finally find out where the hell I was and how to get out of this hellhole.