The descent was longer than I thought it ought to be. Seconds turned to minutes in a nearly pitch black vertical shaft and eventually I lost all sense of how much time had passed. My arms and legs began to burn from the strain of climbing down the ladder. I hadn't realized it would be so difficult, but there was a certain effort in making sure I didn't miss a step in the certain dark, and it began to wear on me. Neither of us talked, I think we were both too nervous about what might be at the bottom of the shaft. As always seems to be the case in situations like this, just as I thought I might not be able to continue, the descent ended. I could make out a faint light below me as the column I was in opened up into a room, filled with a wonderful orange light.
I got down the ladder, and could see the floor a scant eight feet below the bottoms of my boots. I lowered myself down as far as I could, eventually hanging from the lowest rung by my hands, and dropped the last two or so feet down to the floor. Ophelia followed suit, landing gracefully on her feet. We both stretched out a bit, rolling shoulders and trying to relax muscles. I suppose it wasn't easy on her either, even if she seemed to be impossibly strong and fast.
The room around us was small compared to the armory or the boss room above. Each wall was about 10 feet long and all made of roughly hewn stone. No mortar or bricks here. It was clear this had simply been chisled out of the bedrock itself and nobody had bothered to smooth it out or polish it up. Of the four walls, three seemed to have a specific purpose, and the fourth had two doors set into it. One wall had a pair of cots, simple wooden affairs with a blanket and a pillow. Not comfortable, but better than sleeping on the ground. The next wall had a lit fireplace in it, the source of the glow. There was some food on a table next to the fireplace, a kettle, a barrel with a tap, and other sundries for eating. The third wall had a small assortment of arms and armor. It was the exact same equipment we had picked out before, with the exception of Alex's gear. That was nowhere to be seen.
Ophelia headed over to the gear, immediatley changing out her arms and armor for the newer equipment. “Looks like everything is in good condition. You should swap over too, less chance of something breaking if it's not already worn down.” Frankly though. I was just kind of pissed off. This just meant I had violated my own corpse for no reason. Well, I suppose I needed the sack cloth shirt and pants, but still.
“Yeah, I'll change it soon. I want to check out these doors first.” I walked on over to them and gave them a once over, even going as far as to identify the doors with the PSD.
> [Door] - A door to separate two sides of an entryway. Made of wood.
Yeah, okay that was fair. I scratched at my chin, feeling the hint of stubble starting to grow. It had been awhile since I had shaved. I wonder what kind of razors this world had. No way they had nice easy gliding 5 bladed wonders. Frankly, even a safety razor would be amazing. But I had the feeling I'd probably need to find a professional barber to get the kind of close shave I preferred. I had heard of people using pumice stones to rub off the stubble. I winced at even the thought of that though. “You know, maybe I'll just grow a beard.”
“What?” came Ophelia's voice from the other side of the room.
“Oh, nothing, just got distracted. Do the men here keep clean shaven?”
“Normally. You can find a barber on just about any main street. Beards are unusual in these parts at least.”
Well, that was comforting, mostly. Back to the doors. Each one had a plaque on it. Each plaque said the same thing. Only one may enter through this door. Oh. Great. I came back to try and help Ophelia, and the first obstacle we face would force us apart. I just shrugged and walked away, joining Ophelia at the armor as she finished up. I made quick work of my own equipment, piling it neatly in a corner before getting all fresh. The tower shield was left behind though. No point in it if I was going to be alone. It would be way too bulky and I'd just get swarmed while trying to use it.
“The doors say that they will only accept one person each.” I watched her face for a moment. It was always interesting, seeing people think. Ophelia for example, looked up and to her left. Her right hand drummed out a silent pattern on her leg, and she gently bit down on her bottom lip, showing off the pointed tips of her canines.
“Trial grounds tend to follow a pattern. A combat trial, a personal trial that differs for every person, and a reward. I thought we would face a much longer combat trial in such an untouched dungeon, but that might not be the case.” I could read a hint of worry on her face, and felt the same bubbling inside of me as well.
“There isn't much point in questioning it. If the bugbear was the end of the combat trial, then so be it. It's not like either of us know. Those doors either lead to our personal trial then, or we have to complete a solo combat trial.” I tried to smile confidently, but it came out weak. I was afraid that if I had to do a solo combat trial, I would end up dead. Again. “Lets eat, sleep, and then go. I'd really like to get out of here.”
She agreed, and we both ate up our fill near the fire before getting into the cots. Not much was said in those small moments. There was a nervousness in the air, a feeling of despair that I couldn't quite fight off. Anxiety about what was beyond that door paralyzed me in more ways than one. Even if we made it through the dungeon and claimed the focus cores, we would be no better off, not really. We would just end up back at the entrance to the trial ground with those men around us, waiting to grab us.
“Ophelia, are you still awake?” I asked, my voice a barely audible whisper.
No answer, but I heard her shift below me.
“If we both make it to the end of this, what do we do then?”
She was silent for a very long time. “It just depends. There isn't a way to know what kind of powers we will get. If we get lucky, we might just get a set strong enough to let us beat our way out of Roquain's men. But... if not, we just have to bide our time and wait. You came back for me Niles, I won't let them sell you off.”
So, they were slavers, for certain then. “Is slavery common?” I felt like a kid, asking questions of a parent, but I needed to know more of this place, and this felt important enough to ask.
“The noble houses often employ personal slaves. Nobody bothers with labor slaves except for the mines, and there aren't any around here.”
Noble houses? But that was a question for another time. Neither of us spoke again for the night. Well, for what I was calling the night. No way to tell really. As far as I was concerned, I had only woken up an hour or two ago, but something about being either in this world, or in the dungeon itself exhausted me quickly. Eventually though, we both fell asleep.
The timeless feeling of being underground made it impossible to judge how much sleep we had gotten. It could have been an hour, it could have been a day. But we both awoke eventually. The table by the fire had fresh food on it, and the fireplace burned just as brightly as before. But when we slipped off the cots, they disapeared. “Well thats just disconcerting. I suppose the dungeon is telling us to hurry the fuck up.”
Ophelia actually snorted in amusement, though I didn't think I had said anything funny. “I suppose it is. Either way, nothing is to be gained by staying here. Let's eat, and enter our doors.”
We stood in front of the twin doors, and shared a look. “See you on the other side.” I said simply. She nodded, and as one we opened our own doors, and stepped through into pitch darkness.
The moment I fully crossed the threshold, the way in front of me lit up. I looked behind me, cautious, but the door was gone. A simple stone wall was all that was left. Ahead of me, torches lined both sides of a curling hallway that sloped upwards gently. I grabbed one of the torches out of the sconse, readied my spear, and started walking up the slope.
If I had to guess, I completed a single revolution before it came to an end. It felt pointless, like a simple staircase would have sufficed. What was the point of it? The curving hallway stopped at a pair of double doors, and I pushed them open, stepping into an enormous space. My eyes widened as I took it all in. Thick, marble columns of pearly white stretched on either side of the room, tinged with lines of something golden and sparkling. At the other end of the room was a throne made of the same white and gold as the columns. And upon the throne sat... Ophelia.
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Okay. It absolutely could not be Ophelia, but still. It looked like her. This trope was played out as well, right? That had to be something evil, using the visage of a companion to try and throw me off my guard. I knew that. I KNEW that. I had seen it in games, in television, in movies, in books. It was a trope as well used as the 'bad guy turns into you mid fight so your allies can't tell who to help' trope.
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice shaking juuust a bit. I wanted to sound strong, indifferent, bored even, but I just couldn't pull it off. I was too anxious, too scared of dying here to do that.
Not-Ophelia rasied her eyebrows. “Really, not even a moment of hesitation? I didn't fool you at all?” Her voice was perfect, but the diction was wrong. This creature spoke differently, in an all too familiar accent. It was a perfect match for actors and actresses from the 30's and 40's. What was it called, that accent?
“Tranatlantic!” Not-Ophelia said, giggling in a way most unlike the real thing as she walked over to me.
“Mind-reading?” I asked, desperately clinging onto curiosity to prevent fear from taking hold. Not-Ophelia let out another giggle. I didn't dare to take my eyes from her, even as she proved more and more that she was not in fact, the elf. Each step seemed to lengthen, the creature growing taller, filling out more. By the time she reached me, the woman had grown nearly a foot, curves pushing out the clothes in a way that might have been very pleasing in almost any other circumstance.
Not this circumstance though. Watching the body of my friend change and stretch and grow in real time was just plain disturbing. It brought out a sense of revulsion in me that I had only gotten when watching media that strongly invoked uncanny valley. Whatever this thing was, it was almost, but not quite, a person.
“Niles Thatcher, you should not be here! I do not know how you came to this world, but I know you did it twice.” She stopped a brief step in front of me. We were the same height now. I swallowed, hard, as those almost familiar crimson red irises stared at me like they were peeking into my soul. “Average. Everything about you is average. You even died an average death.” She let out a sigh, like I had disapointed her.
“Who are you?” I asked, just as I tried to identify her with the appriasal feature of the PSD. But nothing happened. In fact, the entire HUD I had set up was gone. The glasses were still on my face, but none of it was functioning at all.
“I am Fate.” There was the briefest of moments, like the time between raindrops falling, when I could tell exactly what she meant. This being wasn't called fate. This being WAS Fate. Capital F. The enormity of the being before me slammed into me like a tsunami, shattering my sense of self. Ever so briefly, I could see everything that Fate was, every chance encounter, every breadth of luck or twisted wind. This being was the briefest moments of time and space that could spell the doom of empires or the rise of heroes and nobody would ever know they were even involved. You couldn't call an existence like that a person. This was the very concept of fate, given a mind and a will.
My soul was scoured by that split second of perception. I can't explain how I know that, but I could FEEL the very fabric of my existence shudder and shake, and I screamed as I felt a pain so deep there could be no way to describe it. It wasn't my mind or my body that suffered, but something else. I gasped as I ran out of air, and clutched at my chest. My jaw clenched hard, and I gathered every bit of meager resolve I had. “Well fuck me sideways....” I spat out, barely managing to stand.
She stared at me for a long moment, and then laughed. “Another time perhaps!” Wait, was she flirting with me? Did gods flirt? Was she a god? She... it.... they? Fuck it, Fate looked like a woman, I was going to go with she. Easier than trying to correct my own internal monologue on the gender expression of a being that was utterly incomprehensible.
“Why are you here? Are you a god?” I asked between shuddering breaths. My entire body was shaking like a leaf about to fall from a tree in a storm. I needed to get back under control.
“Very good Niles! Your resolve is impressive! Yes, I am a god. Fate, the god of Fate, as you have experienced for yourself.” She walked around me, behind me, and out of my sight. I tried to turn, but every bit of my energy was already devoted to just standing in place. “As for why I am here, well. I needed a tool. Something unaccounted for. When you arrived, you cut the threads I had spun, and set everything in a new direction. I thought I would visit you personally. Imagine my surprise to find you dead!”
Fingers pressed into my cheek from behind, and I felt lips on my ear, soft and warm. A flirty goddess who could split me in two just by letting me get a glimpse of her. Fuck me.
“I already told you Niles, another time, perhaps, if you serve me well.” Her voice was whispered honey in an old-timey accent. I shuddered, nearly falling to the floor. “My surprise increased again when you came back. I want you Niles. You are an unexpected variable in this game, and one that can give me a chance. Be my champion.”
There was way too much to unpack there. I didn't understand enough, I didn't get what she was talking about. I could flounder guesses about all I wanted, but I had nothing concrete. “Why? To what end? You control fate, can't you just force the ending you wish?”
She continued her circuit around me, and stopped in front of me again. Still wearing Ophelia's face, but different. “I cannot. We gods have our limits and our rules, so that we do not turn this world into a battlefield once more. What we can do, is nominate a champion, and aid them. Be my champion, and I shall be your benefactor. You came back for a reason, did you not? What is that reason?”
She was running circles around me, not quite answering what I was actually asking, but still giving me answers. It was information at least, something useable that gave me understanding to an extent. “Ophelia. I came back because I had a dream that she would die if she was alone.”
“And in that moment, you acted rashly, did you not? You came back to help out a girl you barely know, in a world you know nothing about. You abandoned your friends, your family, your home. Do you regret it?”
Those were all questions I had ignored before, but... “No. Or, I don't think so at least. I'll miss my brother, but we were never close. And... someone needed to help Ophelia, to change her-”
“Her what?” Fate asked, smirking at me knowingly.
“Her fate.”
“Be my champion. I will assist you in your endeavors. There is nothing you must do for me, except continue to change the fates of those around you. In doing so, I will help to guide you along the path to changing Ophelia's fate as well. As she is now, she will fail in her goal.”
I nodded my head, lips pursed. “I'll need power, to survive in this world. Even just to survive leaving this dungeon.”
“I can do that. But, the power I can grant you won't be grand. You will never become a hero. I will give you the power you need to change Ophelia's fate, but it might not be the power you want, nor the power you would have gotten otherwise.”
“You'll decide what my focus core gives me?” I asked, just to confirm. So damn vague. Power itself was a vague term, I should have been more specific myself.
“Yes, Niles. But the Champion of Fate will never be the champion of the people. Your role will be supporting those changing the world, not doing it yourself. Accepting this opportunity to change the fates of others will change your fate as well.”
I nodded. I hadn't come back to be a hero. Frankly, an opportunity to make a difference while staying under the radar seemed nice, in fact. “I accept.”
She reached forward the moment I said those words, and pressed a single fingertip to my chest. I felt a searing pain across my skin and clenched shut my eyes. When I opened them again, Fate was gone, along with the glorious room I had been in. Before me were the roots of a tree, snaking out of the ceiling and down through empty space into the ground. In the middle of the roots, like a bird in a cage, was a glowing, fist sized sphere of blue light.
My HUD popped back up, immediately appraising what I was looking at.
> [Focus Core of the Barrier] - Magus type - A core of crystalized magic that can open one's magical meridians, allowing for the shaping of mana.