Argent paced between the pedestals, righting tablets that had been scattered by the emergence of my Inheritance, lost in thought. Her touch lingered on serpentine edges, a subconscious motion that perfectly aligned each piece upon the squared plinth but her eyes did not. The intricate script could not draw her attention, not at this time. I could sympathise, I had needed to withdraw from the world to resolve my sense of self as well. Genuine sympathy, for another. It was an exhilarating sensation. The echoes of a hundred fossils resonated with it, a sadness ingrained with me. A way to reflect and empathise with others, to form a connection with a stranger or reinforce an existing one. An urge to be present, to 'be there' for a person one cares for.

It was difficult to restrain myself, remain silent and not interfere. I knew the best thing to be done was nothing, that interference would be unwelcome and harmful. Minutes ago I had been in the same predicament, devoured memories gave me plenty of experiences to compare to and yet...I followed her around the library dissolving dust, repairing infinitesimal cracks and abrasions. Present but...respectfully distant. It was impossible for me to truly give her space, to do so would be to withdraw my light entirely and risk Compression again and would leave me blind throughout my Dungeon. I did as little as I could, limited myself to observing only, said nothing to her and ministered to Tasglann Nilavarai only where she had already passed. As much as it was possible for an omnipresent consciousness to be silently present yet giving space, I endeavoured to be.

Above, I swept my attention through my floors. The original entrance hall remained a dusty maze, packed with webs and puffer caps it now served as my second floor. Water now flowed unsteadily through the well from the river, washing away dirt and spores. Stonefall traps and concealed spike pits, simple traps I had made with great care only a single day ago now triggered with the passage of water. I had thought to divert the stream with more purpose, erect an aquifer or conceal its flow in the walls in stone pipes but...I found I liked the damp warren created in my hasty defence. The floor was slick, sharp edges lurking in shallow pools of black water thick with yellow pollen. I distracted myself accelerating erosion, polishing rocks and pebbles, cutting channels and directing the waters to flow throughout the labyrinth. I seeded skinks and spiders, grew algae that fed on the puffer cap spores. Soon the entire hall was a cool, dank trip hazard that dripped, buzzed and crawled with sounds and movements to put any invading mortal on edge. More out of curiousity than anything else, I created a Giant Hedgehog and a gravid Giant Fly. The eggs she laid in her nest were the size of a goblin's skull, several dozen spilling from her ovipositor in a disgusting mass of pale white orbs. She met her end soon after, unable to manoeuvre in the tight confines she made easy prey for the hedgehog. If there was a use for the ridiculous creature, I remained oblivious to it. The hedgehog's worth would remain to be seen.

My concealed entrance to the third level was now an obvious drain, water spiralling into a torpid whirlpool thick with pollen and mud. I cut nests into the walls of the pit, elevated dry chambers with a short tunnel to a lower entrance. In that manner, the falling water would not drown the Viridescent Scinsids I began to spawn there, conserving mana by creating them as gestating eggs and after a moment's thought, connected the nests with winding tunnels. The spiders, once born, would weave webs across the drain that would catch the larger debris and fish as well as providing another layer of defence against invaders. By the time any such interloper entered my third level it would be obvious they had entered a Dungeon and here I allowed myself to work openly. Falling water splashed in a deep basin comprised of tightly fitted stone slabs that formed a perfect hemisphere. An extended trough carried it along a winding path, crossing itself in several places as it's height slowly fell. Here I paused, seeding crundles, helmet snakes, millipedes, wild plump helmets, sweet pods and other cavern life I had acquired. This floor would become my feeding floor, where I gained mana and dungeon points from the life that teemed within. It would also serve as a test of my minions and their artifice - the water that spilled along the trough was unfit for drinking and likely for irrigation. The Craftwind would need to create a way to purify and filter it.

While I was debating how best to guide the flow down to the fourth floor where the Granite Mob's blockhouse waited, Argent spoke. The Chronicle Vault was back in order, each tablet returned to its proper place and orientation. She stood in front of the incomplete automaton, straight backed with steepled hands to her long nose. Her gaze was unfocused, still pupils wandering unseeing over the intricate mechanisms that formed its innards.

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"So I...am what?" She asked, her voice monotone and numb.

"I do not know." I admitted, "I cannot even tell you if this has happened before. Perhaps in time, as we uncover more of the History, we can answer that together." I paused, choosing my words carefully. My tone was cold and bright, something I wished for the first time I could change but how and to what I did not know. I wanted to imbue my words with warmth and comfort, to reassure her. I settled for sending waves of reassurance through our bond as I continued, "What I do know is you can use Dungeon Magic, a Magic fundamentally different from that of mortal beings. You can gain mana directly from your slain foes and organic matter, converting it directly to a form of your own. The workings you used against the scarlock and his servants should not have been possible. Do you recall the word you spoke?"

Argent turned her head from the construct, glancing up at my core. After a moment she closed her eyes, hanging her head and silently shaking it. She turned to face me but only stared at her feet when she reopened her eyes. My poor castellan thrummed with fear and uncertainty. Barely an hour ago she had stood defiant against a powerful foe and all creation, imposing her will unyielding against one of its most fundamental forces, now she was lost. I had created an adult but really we were barely days old, ill equipped for what we had uncovered. Unbidden, I felt a surge of emotion towards her that rushed through the link between us. Compassion and sympathy and a desire to shield her from all harm. Argent rocked back on her heels, eyes wide. Embarassed and alarmed, I wrestled my feelings under control before speaking again.

"You spoke a word in Dungeon tongue Argent. The others did not hear it nor did the enemy, I believe only I heard it." It was easier to focus on the details, to discuss the problem than to process the emotion. I was new to the business of friendship, of equality. I did not know how to communicate my feelings or gauge what was appropriate, worse I did not yet understand myself. "To my sight, it was suspended as a rune in bright silver. When you gain mana, it is that same silver. I have since realised the words carved on these stones are not in a tongue that mortals can read, even Kelter has never read a single one. I do not know how you have these abilities Argent but you do possess at least some of the powers of a Dungeon Core, able to read our tongue, speak our words into creation and use our magic."

"But...using it almost killed me." Argent whispered, licking dry lips. Her hands wrung, twisting and turning over each other endlessly. "If I can use these powers, why would it- would it -" She faltered, words failing her. As much as I wished to calm her, to banish her fears, it was somehow reassuring to not be alone in being unable to express my sentiments.

"That I believe I can answer," I said, touching her chin with a thin pane of green light to raise her face from the floor. When her eyes lifted to my core it was electric, our gazes meeting across a divide of methodology. I saw by casting light, Argent by absorbing it. Yet we saw each other. "You were created directly from my mana, it is mana that gives you life. The mana that mortals use is different, a lesser impure form. My own mana is elemental, monochrome. Mortal mana is ambient, made of many colours. The silver mana you have converted is closer to that of my own but not perfect. So when your own reserves are lacking, your will began to convert your body back to elemental mana of your own colour and used it to fuel your work."

Argent nodded, turning over the concept in her mind. "That...makes sense." She said slowly, her expression visibly softening, muscles tensed for too long beginning to relax as incomprehension was salved by knowledge. More firmly she spoke again "Yes, that makes sense - so far as it goes."

The goblin spread an arm to encompass the vault, the tablets and slates, the cooling constructs. "This is beyond me, perhaps beyond you." Her eyes flicked over to my core, her tongue darting across her lips once more. A nervous reaction to questioning me? The idea was unsettling, part of me still expecting unquestioning obeisance; the larger part uncomfortable that the one individual I had met perhaps worthy of seeing as an equal should feel fear just for stating the obvious. "We must learn more. Much more, before we accept that as...as..."

Argent trailed off, eyes blinking at the ceiling and mouth making little movements. I realised, after several vocalisations I could not parse, she was searching for an appropriate term. "As an absolute truth?" I suggested.

"Yes!" She barked, straightening in relief sharply enough to knock loose her hood. "Yes, that works. Something immutable. For now it is a theory." She turned her gaze back to the slates and fractal slabs. "We have to learn more."