The first floor of the dungeon … was rather pleasant.

Gentle rays of sunshine warmed Nina’s face as they filtered through the thick canopy of green leaves. Around her loomed the trunks of gargantuan trees that stretched into the sky and had trunks as wide as a bus. The trees were widely spaced, and there was almost no undergrowth to wade through. It felt almost like walking through a park, just one designed for giants.

Not bad, Nina thought, as far as dungeons go.

George sat on her shoulder purring, his slender tail wrapped loosely around her throat. He nuzzled her face as she slipped him a strip of jerky. He’d stayed close to her ever since the escape and ... everything that had happened after. He still refused to talk and had reacted violently towards most strangers. Nina worried about him, but she had no idea how to socialize a child as unique as he was. She would focus on keeping him safe. Finding the boy a proper caretaker would have to wait.

Max seemed to be the only exception to George’s distrust of strangers. He had not warmed to the man, not exactly, but neither did he hide or grow aggressive when Max approached.

“We’ve been walking for an hour,” Nina said. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“We’re almost there,” Max said, “Took me days to find it the first time, so you should consider yourself lucky that I’m here to show you the way.”

“My white knight, little ol' me would be helpless alone. That better? I’m more concerned with getting out of here than stroking your ego.”

George chirped in agreement and sent a puff of smoke towards Max. The man turned towards the dragonling and smiled, showing two rows of white teeth. George yelped, and wound his tail around Nina’s waist as he disappeared behind her back, clinging to her armor. After a few moments, George risked peeking one eye above Nina’s shoulder.

“I see you little lizard,” Max said. “Just make sure you aim that fire in the right direction when it counts.”

George responded with what he probably thought was a mighty roar but came out more like a kitten’s mewling. Nina couldn’t help but laugh. This was the most animated she’d seen the child in days.

“I think he likes you,” she said, rubbing her hand across the bony ridge behind George’s ear.

“Of course he does. What’s not to like?”

“Well, for one —”

The sun grew brighter as they stepped out of the trees and into a wide-open field of golden grass. Wind brushed through Nina’s hair, and she felt a slight chill tickle at her nose. She drew her eyes across the field and her mouth dropped in awe.

“There it is,” Max said. “I call it Yggdrasil, but Eve refuses to acknowledge the name. She just calls it ‘Trial Dais One.’ She’s not much fun, if you haven’t noticed.”

A long gorge cut through the plain, carving a line towards a large crater surrounded by jagged rock. A large plume of crystalline branches rose up above the cliffs like diamond spears thrusting into the heavens.

“That’s …” Nina said.

The sun refracted through the branches of the crystal tree, splitting the light into shimmering rainbows and sparkling reflections. Nina felt George’s weight as he climbed on her head and stretched his neck forward to get a better view.

“Yeah,” Max said. “I had the same reaction. It’s breathtaking — Also, it’s full of traps and spiders, so don’t go getting too enamored.”

“Wait,” Nina said, subconsciously drawing her arms around herself. “Did … did you say spiders?”

“Yeah, giant crystal spiders the size of a minivan and tough as diamonds. Nothing too difficult for the first freaking floor.”

“Thank god,” Nina said, while visibly relaxing. “I thought you meant normal sized ones, my skin crawls just thinking about them. I can deal with the larger variety.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Nina’s sword appeared in her hand and she gave it a few experimental swings. George chirped in excitement, breathing out sparks and thick lines of smoke in time with Nina’s mimed attacks.

“Oh,” Max interrupted, “There’s plenty of those too. Thousands of baby spiders that can pick the meat off your bones in seconds. I’d be dead five times over if Eve hadn’t got me out of there.”

"You're joking?"

Max just smiled and kept walking.

***

“Once again, you come to me empty-handed,” Victor shouted. “I warned you what would happen.”

“My apologies, My Lord,” Cassandra dropped to one knee. “It won’t happen again.”

He placed his hand over Cassandra’s bowed head, gently stroking her hair. It was so lovely, and yet he’d long ago grown bored with the woman’s physical charms. She had better uses.

“I’ve been so patient with you,” he said, grabbing a clump of her hair. “I’ve trained you, provided resources and comfort to you and to your family. I feel almost like a … a surrogate father to little Kattie. I’ve been so kind, and yet at every turn, you betray that trust.”

He slammed Cassandra’s face into the floor, causing branching fissures to grow across the blue marble. Victor lifted Cassandra’s limp form and stared into her ruined face, one unfocused eye met his gaze. Shards of stone had stabbed into her cheeks and long rivulets of blood flowed down her face. One eyebrow was nothing but a bloody pulp above an eye too swollen to open.

Victor sighed, letting Cassandra slump onto the floor.

“I don’t want to do this. It hurts me just as much as it hurts you, but I cannot tolerate weakness, and you Cassandra — are not weak. I chose you for that reason.”

“Yes, Lord Reech.”

“I blame myself for your failures. It’s why I’m so hard on you. Perhaps I failed to provide you with the proper resources or guidance?”

“No. My failures are my own and I wish to atone.”

“And you shall, but first,” he picked up a red journal, “tell me everything you can about this book.”

“We …”

Cassandra stumbled as she tried to stand, her head spinning as her vision became blurry. Victor caught her, shushing her as he gently placed her into a plush office chair.

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” he said. “You’ve had a head injury, so you shouldn’t try to move. I need you to think. Where did you find this book?”

“It …” she said. “The book was recovered during my most recent op. The target escaped with the aid of a male accomplice, we believe he was the same accomplice who aided her previously. He dro … he —”

“This accomplice had the book?”

Nina shook her head as she tried to force out the words.

“You,” he turned to point at the other members of Cassandra’s quad. “Get her to a healer and send me everything you have on this accomplice. Family. Friends. Background. If he has a favorite brand of toilet paper, I want to know about it.”

“Yes, My Lord,” they answered in unison.

The three men picked up their injured leader and quickly filed out of the room. Victor couldn’t help but notice the shattered stone as they trampled it under their feet. Something about the blue marble tugged at his memory, but the thought proved to be elusive.

“One last thing,” he yelled at the retreating quad, “Once you’ve patched her up, see to it that Cassandra reports to the Halls.”

Victor ignored the startled responses. His hands shook as his fingers wrapped tightly around the small journal. His eyes focused on the intertwining dragons depicted on its cover. When the ding of the elevator told him he was finally alone, he screamed. He tore free a chunk of the cracked marble floor, crushing it between his fingers.

“Why now,” he shouted, “when I’m so close?”

He let the rage course through him long enough to vent his frustration but quickly tamped it down. Now was not the time to give in to emotion. Not if he was still alive. That shouldn’t be possible.

It must be an heir ... an impostor. 

Victor gently removed a priceless portrait depicting the first Lord Reech, behind which was hidden a small keypad. After setting the painting down, he screamed again. His foot lashed out, sending the painting careening into the wall. Its frame shattered into splinters and rained down over the torn canvas.

Five quick beeps indicated that Victor had entered the correct password and a small cylinder emerged above the keypad with a whirling buzz. He placed his eye in front of the scanner as a blue light washed over his face.

“Victor Reech,” He said. “Voice input code: Alpha – Zero- Fortnight.”

“Welcome, Lord Reech,” said a computerized voice. “Access granted: Vault 23-B is now opening.”

The hiss of pneumatics was followed by the sound of grinding stone. A panel of the wall slid down into the floor, revealing a long hallway surrounded by glass cases. Each case held some powerful artifact, or an heirloom passed down by the Reech family.

Someday, Victor would leave his own offering to the future leaders of the family. Today, however, he wasn’t worried about the future. It was the past, long thought buried, that interested him.

Victor stopped at a suit of emerald armor emblazoned with the family dragons. A heavy lance was held in the armor's right gauntlet. The point of the lance was still stained with blood said to have been from the last dragon. A legend from nearly a hundred years ago.

Victor grabbed the lance and hurled it towards a case at the rear of the vault, shattering the glass and pinning the object inside to the wall. He slowly walked across the room, the crunch of broken glass echoed with each step.

He held up the red journal with one hand as he pulled the lance from the wall with the other. At the tip of the weapon was a small red book. Even destroyed, he knew that the symbols on the covers of the two books were identical.

Was it a forgery?

Victor shook his head. No, the timing is too perfect.

Charlemagne had returned.