Chapter 14 - D&D: Dungeons and Dreams

The better half of an hour.

That’s how long it took May to read the first page of the book Bel-Alis had lent her about dungeons. The doll was a step away from making a blood vow against cramped letters and authors with ancient vocabulary by the end of it, massaging her forehead as if an exhausted student cramming what it could before a final test. She had, to much internal chagrin and snicker of the very unhelpful voices, asked the Priestess for a dictionary and had been constantly pestering her about the meaning of words when their written explanation turned out elusive.

Even May had to admit, however, that if anything, the new words had expanded her vocabulary immensely. And unlike Melindrak’s work, this one didn’t teach her a hundred ways of critique and pettiness.

In fact, that characteristic that Isaias Melindrak had of inserting his own opinions in the Handbook 一 sometimes treating it more like a diary for his findings than a proper educational tool 一 was traded for an extensive scholarly description of what she assumed was dungeon architecture and written equations that left May’s mind spinning.

Oh, she would be the first to tell another about her capabilities when it came to counting 一 a proficiency larger than the one she had with reading, especially considering her ability to not only add and subtract, but also multiply 一 but when faced with not only numbers, but letters as well? Multiple ones at that? May gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes and they still didn’t make sense to her at all.

So, when the first hour of metaphorically bashing her head against the book ended, May took a deep, calming breath and changed her approach. If she wasn’t going to learn anything by forcing her way through the sentences? Then she was going to skim the pages for what was easy to understand.

And that was how May, proud doll that she was, felt her grin begin to stretch from ear to ear; she began to find proper answers and they were everything she had asked for.

According to the chapter titles and the summary, dungeons could be divided into two categories: Natural or Artificial. The first was some kind of natural reaction to potent mana. May wasn’t certain, but that seemed right. It even seemed a bit similar to Melindrak’s explanation of objects being exposed to mana and changing themselves.

But on a larger, deadlier scale.

The second classification, to what she could surmise, was exactly as it sounded. A dungeon created by someone wishing to create both a place for stable growth for those walking the Path and a living ecosystem filled with monsters and wonders.

Charming.

Still, some details about it left an impression in May. For example, only Gemians knew how to properly create dungeons.

When she asked Bel-Alis what a Gemian was, the Priestess told her they were a secluded race of crystal people; a description that told May very little but that she still filed for future use. Though the answer prompted another question inside her.

How many races were out there?

So stoked was her curiosity that when she asked the whispers the same thing 一 May was trying not to bother Alis more than necessary now, since the Priestess looked fairly focused on enchanting her claws 一 all she got were undefined answers. As if they couldn’t agree on a proper number themselves.

Nevertheless, May continued in her surface-level reading, and other important aspects were described near the end. The Altar and the Core; both necessary structures present in every dungeon.

From what she could gather, the reason why they existed was unknown, but they were essential parts of a perfectly functional dungeon; to the point that if any of them were destroyed, the consequences would be disastrous. May rationally chose not to interfere with any of the constructs while delving.

She did not need another explosion or similar disaster this soon, thank you very much.

Done with what she could comprehend of the book, May pushed it aside and opened something else on her table. Well, she was calling it hers, but it was just the vacant desk in the room Alis had tried to tie her to a bed.

Using the book about dungeons to weigh it down, the first of the maps was stretched all over the desk, depicting what May read on the title as the first floor of Crystalia’s dungeon. Which, she realized after reading the larger letters on top, had an actual name of its own.

The Mausoleum of Gems.

So May 一 map displayed over her table 一 took the quill, ink and paper Bel-Alis had given her and opened the third book she would read today. An Asdenian Bestiary, filled with depictions and descriptions of the national arcane beasts to be found from the Arilan Jungle in the west to the Tirian Mountains in the east 一 where she, Kreacher and Alis had seen the city of Pirian nestled among the burning peaks.

Focusing on the drawings on the paper, May took her time understanding the symbols mapping traps, doors and stairs while reading the small list of words on the border. Monster names that she searched in the, thankfully, alphabetically organized bestiary.

The first floor of the Mausoleum had four rooms, connected with branching corridors, that ended in a staircase leading downwards. The population, according to the map’s details, was comprised of Quartzalite Bats and Silica Moles, critters of almost no monetary value and even less danger to anyone.

Unless you were stupid enough to step on one of the moles. Then the glass shards would probably shred your foot.

Still, simple enough. Some spike traps from the ceiling in one of the rooms, a corridor that had a pressure plate connected to an automated bolt dispenser and the most dangerous of all traps: a falling pit. May took to the work of noting all those details down like a fish to water, her Truth humming at the job of properly planning her future actions, leaving her with a vigor to keep working until done.

On the ending of the first floor, on the farthest of the four rooms and the only one connected to the stairwell leading below, a skull was drawn in white and black ink. A boss room inhabited by what the map called an Elite Quartzite Bat.

The Bestiary classified the creature as a High First-Grade arcane monster, unlike the other, more basic cousins of it.

Beyond that, the map had a small place for the resources that could be acquired. Mainly glass and a specific type of endemic plant called Mirror Moss.

May would ask Bel-Alis if they were worth something later. She knew the Priestess had used a large part of her dwindling economies today, setting up for the expedition and armoring them. If she could, perhaps, help her with something, she would.

And so, for the next few hours, May lost herself to noting and planning and ensuring the delving would go through with the least amount of trouble possible. Oh, it was difficult and most likely not that useful 一 a rational part of her mind knew Bel-Alis let her work this as an addendum to the Priestess’s own plans and knowledge 一 but it still felt good to take Control of a future situation just by thinking about it. An extension of her Truth that didn’t involve force, but meticulous intelligence.

The doll wrote and wrote, using more of her childish calligraphy and drawings, learning about the dungeon like an avid student. May was about to finish detailing her plan for the fourth floor when a commotion began to echo from beyond the corridor. The sound of voices calling for her and Alis; the skitter of feet and flap of wings telling her the third part of their party had returned.

She sighed and rose to greet Kreacher. Truly, the things she did for her companions.

***

“Any news from the outside?” Alis asked after opening the stone door that led to the main chamber of the Chapel. May and she had met at the corridor, the Priestess carrying what was either her close-to-completion or completed claws. May kept side-eyeing the runes on the leather and felt herself grow excited at the sight of the magical inscriptions.

“Not much,” Iguana-Kreacher said, their eyes managing to look fairly aloof. “We went as far as outside the walls, but we spent most of the time searching. Give us some time to scout things out.”

“There are other bodies?” Bel-Alis counted the three animals going around the room, an iguana, a pigeon and what seemed to be a particularly large frog.

May looked at the slimy thing with distaste.

“Just one 一 we managed to get hold of a cat. It pushed our limits a little, but we think it was still a kitten.” The Pigeon-Kreacher cooed from his place on the altar, colored feathers around their gray neck puffing. “That or our capabilities are growing alongside our Gift.”

“Ah, it makes sense. How many bodies did you get this past day? Ten?”

“Humm, close enough.” The Frog-Kreacher’s neck bulged, their white tongue used as a whip against the air as they tested it. “We’ve enough Truth for an Ability at least but 一 we’ll keep it for the dungeon. A way to avoid nasty surprises.”

“About that,” May interjected, pulling a small bundle of papers she used to make her notes and presenting them. “I’m almost finished with studying the maps and beasts.”

“Huh, that’s impressive May. What do you have for us?”

“Sketches of plans, mostly. The maps show many rooms and corridors, so I kept on trying to make sure we went through the fastest and safest way possible.” The doll demonstrated, pride in her voice clear to be heard by Kreacher and Alis. “Our largest threats are the monsters and the bosses. The traps become quite useless when you know where they are.”

She would have to remember that detail for later plans. Traps and secrecy should go hand in hand if May ever wanted to make a successful surprise against Hector’s enemies. Their enemies.

“Although…” May remembered a detail that went unexplained both by the maps and her quick read of the book about dungeons. “Why can’t we bypass the final creature of each floor? I mean, all the other rooms have corridors and secret passages, but none let us go through them.”

“Ah, that’s a great question. And the answer is actually the same as to why you can’t just build a tunnel to the next floor, for example.” The Priestess let the pigeon land on her shoulder and began to explain, clearing her throat before starting. “Dungeons are supposed to be both trials and blessings. Well, the artificial ones at the very least. So you can use your whits to bypass monsters and spikes, but there should be a moment where you must test your might. So, boss rooms.”

Bel-Alis looked at both of her impromptu students nodding at her words and felt relieved she had made herself understood. She hadn’t had the opportunity to tell Kreacher about these smaller details in dungeon delving 一 mostly because there was little reason considering their expedition was being guided by adventurers who knew the Mausoleum better than her 一 so it felt good to share the little knowledge she had now.

The girl, however, holding the doll to her chest, tilted her head with burning curiosity. If they would have to fight the strongest monsters of every floor 一 and all the previous adventurers and delvers had done the same thing 一 then how in the Hells were there enough bosses?

The Priestess answered the question with a rare reaction: a shrug of her shoulders. If Bel-Alis felt embarrassed by the lack of information, May was unable to detect it on her face. “I don’t know, May. In fact, I believe it’s a secret only those who can create dungeons know about.”

Alis couldn’t stop the licking of lips at the idea of using that juicy secret for her next Step. Secrets that were known to exist, but remained understood by few, were probably the strongest of them there was.

Kreacher pecked her bald head when they noticed her dreamy expression. Alis always got weird when she had that look on her face.

“Ow. Ow. Stop it, Kreacher!” The Priestess waved her arms, sending the pigeon flying away, cooing all the while.

In the meantime, the frog tried to get closer to May, jumping slowly as if ready for an attack, but her attention was diverting to the slimy thing ever since she saw it in the room; so it took little of her to covertly kick the animal away. She could tolerate the iguana, but that brown and black and bulbous frog was abhorrent by nature.

“Youngster! You kicked me!”

May smiled without teeth at the lizard which now stood closer to them since their two other bodies were out of commission for the moment. “Keep that frog away from me, all right? It’s disgusting.”

“Hey! It’s not disgusting! It’s… kinda cute.” Kreacher mumbled almost self-consciously and May scowled at the notion of considering that bulging fly-eater anything but a natural disaster.

“No. No, it isn’t.” May finished, dismissing Kreacher’s statement. Couldn’t they see the nasty thing it was? “Anyway, are you done with the claws, Alis?”

The Priestess looked at the weapons she still held, extending them for May to pick. “Oh, right! Try it on, please. It should work well.”

The girl put the doll down and tried to fit the claws into her hands. The loose rings and long leather strips remained still; the runes seemingly not working.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Sorry, I forgot.” The Priestess added before touching the claws, her fingers shimmering with translucent mana that grew so thick May could see it with her naked eye. “To activate a rune you need to put some mana into it to get started. You’ll be able to do it better after the Shaping, but until that, you can ask me or Kreacher.”

May nodded, though it still grated a little to be so dependent on them. She knew their concern came from a better place than she initially expected, but it still bruised her ego.

Nevertheless, the touch of Bel-Alis’s mana was enough for the enchantments to glow all around. The light was purplish and soon after May felt the rings and leather tighten around her wrist, but the claws remained at their larger size, making them look way too big for her childish hands.

Still, the weapon looked even more threatening now, with their form-fitting moves and the slight glimmer on the edge of the blades 一 something that wasn’t present before.

“Did you manage to add something else?” May asked as she touched the sharp, sharp claws, shining as if polished. The Priestess nodded in answer.

“Indeed, Cut and Sharpness. It’ll let you carve through the thicker monsters without too much issue.” The proud look on her face was shared by Kreacher, who kept bobbing all three of their heads. Although the frog’s short neck made it a lot more difficult. The Priestess went on.

“Your armor should be ready by tomorrow morning, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” Bel-Alis pointed at the porcelain doll May held, taking care not to scratch her original skin with her claws. “Did you think about what you’re going to do with your body?”

May landed from her belligerent excitement with a proverbial crash, chewing on her bottom lip. She… hadn’t considered how she would take a quite fragile porcelain doll down into the dungeon.

“I… could put it on a bag? Or just put it down when fighting?” May tried, but the ideas weren’t good enough. Still, Bel-Alis and Kreacher didn’t seem to have any better ones.

“We can worry about that later.” The Priestess decided, lightly hitting her cane on the floor. “For now, let’s assume we’ll manage to put the doll down before combat.”

May nodded in silence. Not bringing her original body wasn’t an option to her, both because of the [Skin Walking] limited distance, but also because it was hers. And that mattered.

The rest of their reunion went with May showing Kreacher and Alis her plans, the trio tweaking and adding ideas which were met with May’s critique most of the time. Their attempts to correct her plans stung, an ache in her Truth she fought through to her best attempt.

Her success was… lackluster. She still gave vicious looks at them when they tried to tweak major routes; and so large grew her annoyance that she could feel her head pulsing by the end of it all.

Noticing the dwindling patience of the doll, they quickly wrapped up their plans and retreated to their respective bedrooms, Kreacher in all his three bodies, Bel-Alis into her office to keep working, and May to that last one where she had awoken.

As she lay there, flesh and porcelain in a hug above the hard mattress, May felt on her skin the pinpricks of a call. Of someone observing her. Coupled with the silence from the whispers, she knew what would happen.

For May didn’t dream. Not like the other races described it, oh no. The doll saw not fields of green and gold, or fantastic and almost eerie caricatures of the worlds. Hells, she could beg and cry for a glimpse of her Master’s face in the depth of unconsciousness and receive absolutely nothing. When she slept 一 being knocked out not counting for this 一 May conversed.

And after the events of the past day? She knew it was going to be a long, long talk.

***

The first surprise after falling into the embrace of sleep was that May was somewhere different than usual. The more common place for her conversations was in a dark void not too dissimilar from the one she had been in before entering that terrible vision of Hector.

Not now though. The doll stood in a place that was different, but not new. The tapestries stood around in that similar arrangement. The longer depiction of the crone in a womb, the golden box holding her fear and terror and… a new one. One May had been excited to see ever since she was granted the Ability.

The golden plaque affixed to the floor shone with the inscribed name: [Puppeteer’s Strings] with all the details that marked this new piece as unique as the others. Unlike the floating representation of [Telepath’s Box] or even the dangling-from-the-unseen-limit [Skin Walking], this new Ability was… unraveling around its edges.

The long, multiple threads coiled along the floor and levitated against gravity as if a lady’s hair underwater. Not only that, but while the other two Abilities were represented with fine-looking pieces for viewing and appreciation, this one was… coarser. Thicker. Resembling more of a rug than an art piece.

Still, the painted image 一 and it was painted, instead of different colored strings threaded together to form an image 一 was somewhat simpler than the other ones. Beautiful, but with less work to it.

The image showed a doll. Cloth was the product of its making; the stitches running along its arms and neck, alongside the buttons that were its eyes made May sure that what she was looking at felt familiar. Like watching an old painting of an estranged family member.

The doll, unlike her, was made to look more masculine. Child-like, of course, but the shorter hair, the red regal robes it wore and the golden crown on its head made it resemble more of a king than a queen. The lowered head and lifeless position were supported by thin, black lines coming from the top of the tapestry, coiling around the doll’s arms, neck and chest.

The contrast between the cream-colored background and the clear, darker paints left May almost winded at the sight. The scarlet of its robes, the platinum of its crown, the night of its skin. The doll was the perfect depiction of not only what she had already used of the Ability 一 tying and coiling the strings 一 but also of what more she could still do.

May’s Gift had answered her plea for obedience with the beginning of a path towards dominance. Towards Control of others through strength or manipulation. It mattered not. And watching the new tapestry? Feeling its resonance and rightness within herself? May knew she had made the right choice.

Done? Much. To Talk. About. The whispers finally heralded their presence, snapping May’s focus from the new piece of art.

“Do you know how this is formed?” She asked, not turning back, even though she could feel their presence almost like a physical thing. A cold along her porcelain skin that left her insides rattling.

No. Yes. Yours. And. Not. Gift. Gives. You. Mold.

“It’s based on something of mine them?” May looked at the other tapestries, positioned in a loose triangle, without turning to look at the middle area. She knew they would be there. The whispers were stronger here, stranger. “I’ve never seen such an old woman or the box though. And I think I’d remember seeing a hanged doll.”

But. Saw. Similar. It. Was. Enough. Gift. Completes. The whispers caressed her ears, soft and prompting. Wanting her to turn around.

Wanting her to see.

May resisted to the best of her ability, fearless of what was behind her. And yet… she took a deep breath before speaking again.

“What do you want to talk about? We have a long day tomorrow, you know? Dungeon delving and whatnot.”

Still. Talk. Reminisce. Reflect. They said finally, not giving May the space to wiggle out of their conversation.

“About… what?”

Day. Mistakes. Success. Questions. Answers. Truth. Voices bombarded May, making her flinch at their various tones, surprised by their proximity.

“You… gave me my Gift.” She tried, going for the beginning. Before the Emporium. Before the Plaza. Before Alis and Kreacher.

The voices howled and laughed and snickered and choked, half in mockery and half in exasperation.

No. Not. We/I. Your. Gift. Your. Truth. We. Assist. They explained, words caressing the back of her neck. They were there.

May could hear the movement of their tongues with every word, the clap of their lips in the consonants, the grinding of teeth in the most esoteric of the voices.

“But it comes from somewhere, doesn’t it?” May finally asked what she had been thinking for a while. “The mana, the powers, the Gift. Something is answering.”

Ah. Good. Smart. Question. Answer. Exists. They complimented her 一 but didn’t answer.

“Will you tell me?”

NO!

And they sneered and laughed and choked and spat with their voices.

Their laughter felt like a battering ram into her mind, causing May to fall to her knees under the physical weight of their voices: sharp and clear against her ear, distant and cold like the frost over mountains.

Angry and regretful like the dead.

“Stop it! Stop it!” May pleaded, but the ringing of their voices drilled into her skull, cracking the porcelain beneath her hair. She felt herself vibrating on the inside.

Still, the whispers didn’t cease. They would not. They could not.

“I SAID STOP IT!” May screamed 一 pushing her hands so hard against her ears she could feel her wrists hurting 一 and this time… something answered her.

Control sparked from her voice in waves, meeting the tapestry in front of her and diverting like a wave. The Truth hit another of the representations with increasing velocity, growing faster and faster as May unconsciously gave it more mana. The order ricocheted, again and again, causing echoes loud enough to fight the whispers’s laughter.

It took less than a minute for the eldritch voices to be completely drowned 一 and by the time May heard nothing but her words getting louder and louder 一 she let go of her unconscious grip over the building wave. The Truth faded.

Gasping for air, May rose from the dark floor beneath her feet, and her anger soared within her. Because now that fear wasn't present, wrath became her guide.

Porcelain cracked and expanded, the black flesh underneath growing and pulsing like a heartbeat as May turned into her more monstrous form. Into a young boy’s living nightmare.

Eyes ablaze with malice and anger, the doll turned around to the center of the space around her, and what she saw would brand her mind like hot iron. Hundreds, thousands of dazed mirages floating on top of the floor in languid movements, surrounded by clouds of stars and ash.

Mouths, snouts, beaks and more. Fangs and square teeth growing beyond lips. From lips. Into lips.

There were no details beyond that, no face they were affixed to, only a hellish choir of grunts and grinding teeth. All groaning from the pain felt after being rendered low by May’s Truth.

It was almost enough. Almost enough to make May cave in and give way to the wrongness she felt by watching the mouths move while disimbodied; but her wrath couldn’t be quenched by alien sights and unnatural wrongness.

May was in Control now.

Silently prompting her Gift, the predator clad in porcelain slowly prowled around the whispers in all fours; black, fleshy eyes staring at them without stopping, fanged smile revealing rows and rows of teeth as May lost herself to the hatred while her claws moved almost by themselves against the floor. Manipulating something beyond sight.

By the time she felt it ready, the tension on her fingers wanting to burst, a few of the whispers had roused themselves back to normal. But not all.

With a silent command, she ordered her Ability to attack 一 [Puppeteer’s Strings] lunging not from her fingers 一 but from the tapestry with the same name. All that unraveled thread hardened for a moment, suddenly pointing at the center and the mouths with a snap of movement and then… they lunged.

Some of the whispers fled. Others faded. More of them simply floated away. But those remaining? Oh, they suffered.

Strings bound lips tight, squeezing the whispers into silence. Beaks and snouts were clapped shut by threads that dug into fur and skin and bone, bleeding onto the floor.

The more they squealed and fought against her grip, the more satisfied May felt, fighting through the growing exhaustion of using her Ability to such a degree, edging closer and closer to them with slow steps. Like a hunter to a trapped prey.

And yet… it wasn’t enough. She needed more. No, May demanded more. After all, how dare they try to be on top? How dare the whispers laugh at her as if above?

She was above everything but Hector, and this… figment of knowledge within her tried to ascertain dominance? Over her? May had no kindness for the greedy.

Still, she understood that what they had was a relationship. One shaped by power and time, yes, but a relationship. Like a king trusts his steward, or a prince trusts his maid. It wasn’t friendship or companionship, much less a family bond. It was, in fact, the connection of a lesser and something above them. And May was the latter here.

So as the one on the higher ground, it fell on her shoulders to punish the rude and dissident. There was no space for their mockery and disdain within her anymore.

Plus… she had warned them not to push too hard.

Rising from all fours, the shifted doll grabbed the first pair of lips in front of her, ready for judgment. Plump and gray and filled with yellowed and rotting teeth, the strings binding them retreated as May dug her claws into the cracked lips, going through ash and stars to reach it.

“Where does the Gift come from?” She spared the niceties, hurting the mouth with her grip.

We/I. Know. Much. Of. Little. Little. Of. Much. The lips worked to give her a new riddle and no answer, their voice cracking as if coming from the driest of throats. May’s face was stoic through the words, even with the broken porcelain and black flesh underneath being able to give her more expressions to work with.

Even after all of this, she could feel it in that statement. The whispers didn’t take her seriously enough.

So she dug her claws deeper 一 hearing the muffled wails without an expression 一 piercing flesh until her entire fingers were lodged inside. And then, in perfect, doll-like silence, May ripped.

Hands to each side, the mouth split down the middle in a shower of teeth and blood. She did not look more than necessary before going for the next caught mouth. There were many here still, and she would get an answer to her question in one way or another, but she wasn't in a hurry, so she picked another one.

“Tell me, do the others have voices as well?” She clenched the beak until she heard bone cracking.

No! Only. You. Only. Yours. The voice tittered and shook, finally scared. A grin split May’s face from ear to ear.

“Good, now, how many stormtouched are out there?” May asked.

We/I. Don’t. Know. Impossible.

“I’ll ask again,” May was beginning to get mad once more. “How many of us are out there?” Her voice came out in a hiss.

Can’t. Nine. Tell. One. You. Ten. It panted by the time it was over, shivering in fear and pain as it gave the information. And yet, May had more questions.

She had just opened her mouth again to continue the interrogation when May felt something new happening. The ash and stars surrounding the beak began to churn, the thing squealing in horror as chains surged from beyond the void, binding the bone so tightly it gave in in the middle, breaking it in thousands of shards.

May blinked at the unfolding event and narrowed her eyes. Something new was here, inside her Gift and Truth; she could feel its presence almost instinctively. A weight on her soul as it housed something too large for it.

The doll was about to take another step towards the next caught mouth 一 a snout with a lulling tongue, saliva falling from among the fangs in constant drizzles 一 but the chains appeared again, dragging the snout away into the void instead of destroying it.

She turned her head at another sound, seeing multiple chains dragging her whispers 一 her subordinates 一 away from the clutches of her strings, pulling the mouths with such a strength that her Ability broke, unable to compare. And in response? May ran towards the closest one still bound, demanding her Ability to drag the lips closer to her at the same time.

And this time she was faster than the chains; most of them too busy while dragging the other whispers away as they cried and screamed. Yet, a single one came for the one in her hands, lunging like a snake towards the one she held.

May put an arm forward without thinking, protecting the lips from the bindings trying to drag them away. Her voice came out in a deranged shout as the chain whipped her. “Mine!”

The metal links rose from the floor like a cobra, inspecting the creature trying to stop its work, and lunged once again. But this was May’s domain… and she had Control in here.

“They’re mine!” She screeched again, fighting this unknown assailant as it hit her with enough force to crack her porcelain skin and make the flesh underneath flare in pain. The chain kept striking her repeatedly, whipping her arm while May tried to deflect its blows to the best of her ability and hold the whisper close to her chest.

Still, even with all of her attempts, May still gave ground. The chain, unlike her, had no problem with hitting her legs and stomach and head 一 which it did repeatedly. So when she felt the thing from beyond coiling around her neck and squeezing, the doll took a hold of it and pulled.

The strength of its grip made May consider the possibility of the chain squeezing her throat so hard that her head would just pop out. But her decapitation was not meant to be, for when she tried to pull again, she felt the last of her Truth come out in a bombastic wave. An explosion that left May dizzy and weak and victorious over her assailant as the chain was ripped from wherever it came from. She heard the squelching of flesh beyond and, though she did not feel it, the box inside her mind rattled at the sound.

A single chain of dozens. A single whisper of thousands. The grip around her neck eased instantaneously, and the now inert chain only felt heavy on her shoulders.

Drained, May fell to the floor, laying on her back as the screams grew farther and farther until all that remained inside her Gift was silence.

She knew not what had happened to those taken, or even to the whispers that had fled before the attack, but it would have to wait. Her mana had been spent to its last drags, every drop squeezed out of her to the point she felt her vision darkening around the edges.

May understood, however, that a new enemy had tested her Control and mostly succeeded. She could swear and promise revenge, make vows of retribution and ensure this offense wouldn’t go unanswered 一 She would do all of that if she still had the energy to think about those things. But…

The silent embrace of sleep felt so, so charming to her tired soul.