After four hours, Leda noticed the walls of his dome flicker a little. At the observation, he dusted his knees, straightened with a stretch, and walked to the centre of the safe zone. He dislodged the torch from the ground, face in a smile, and with his lips pressed onto an index finger, in a request for silence. With a shake, the priest doused the torch next. As the dungeon threatened darkness once more, the dome shimmered, curved walls and all, faded with inscriptions and letters. Daiden fell into a trance at the sight.

“We can’t fight our way through the horde,” concluded Leda. “But our escape lies in the success of this quest. Yes, no? Give me your opinion.”

“Ah, I’m too young to just sit around and feel despair!” answered Daiden, affirmatively. “How’s that for an opinion, Ser Priest?”

“Well said, trainee!” praised Leda, with a toothy grin. “Allow me to aid with this expedition, then.”

With a whisper, the light from the dome dimmed. Daiden’s ears perked at the sound of a crack in that moment, from the top. It slithered at first, an inch, at a slow pace. But in a breath, the walls fissured, breaking the cracks into several branches; in another, the dome shattered. When the darkness devoured the once safe zone, Daiden heard a familiar sound, a chant. A radiant fluid, merely the size of a pea, swirled into existence around his chest then. It followed his eyes, illuminating a path up until the length of his arm.

Daiden noticed his hands as well, now translucent and in a blur. He pursed his lips to hold a gasp and turned to the priest with a puzzled expression on his face.

[Don’t make a sound!] echoed Leda, sharply, inside Daiden’s head. He pointed to his lips, and then his head. [We’ll have to continue this journey in silence.]

[What’s happening?] asked Daiden. [Wait, are you even able to hear me?]

[Yes, I wouldn’t want to mute the person charged with protecting me,] said Leda, with a smile. [I’ve cast a spell of concealment on us. We just need to refrain from communicating out loud for it to stay in effect.]

With a gulp, Daiden waded towards the larger horde, stopping near the Acri. He swayed to the side, and the light on his chest followed. He circled around the slimmer undead once, then once more, and returned to Leda’s side.

[They don’t see the light?] said Daiden, curiously.

[It’s not that they can’t…] revealed Leda, slowly. [They’re just not interested. Call it a lack of inherent intelligence. I suppose a rotting brain can do that to you…]

Daiden heard the groans louden. He noticed the undeads scatter, now in a search for them. But the Acri squatted instead, hunched over the dungeon’s hard floor. It scratched the stone at a deliberate pace, slowly. Once, twice, then faster, breaking its fingernails with an obsession. The Acri clutched its throat with both hands and attempted to scream, shaking its head in a frenzy, in frustration.

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[What the fuck?] blurted Daiden, wearing an expression of disgust.

[Ignore the Acri,] said Leda, walking ahead. [It’s upset about losing its prey. Let’s focus on the matter at hand.]

Daiden strode after the priest, now at a distance from him. They crossed a wide pass, twisted, and turned, without a map, avoiding scattered hordes in different parts of the dungeon. The labyrinth broadened in its complexity with every step, with multiple options for paths, each claimed by thick, territorial clusters of rot and decay. Daiden swallowed a lump in his throat, overwhelmed by the degree of the infestation. The grey walls tremored from the cries of the undeads every now and then as well, shaking loose the dust and purple-blue algae.

[What happens when we seal the breach?] asked Daiden, after some thought.

[What’s here will remain here,] said Leda, simply. [But I was merely tasked with closing the breach, not clearing the infestation.]

[You rely on words to create magic,] remembered Daiden. [Wouldn’t that break the spell of concealment? We would have to fight the horde, perhaps more, nearest to the spatial tear. Unless you have a plan…]

Leda shook his head, with a casual shrug. [No. That’s, well…that’s not really my area of expertise. Isn’t that why you’re here?]

“Ah, that’s so unhelpful!” groaned Daiden, in thought. He mouthed an insult, without a sound, and slumped his shoulders in resignation. “Think, you idiot. Think. We can’t go back anymore, and there’s not much I can do against the infestation…ugh, the numbers! What a pain…”

Daiden moved his hips in half-rotations, noticing his muscles stiffen from the stress. He turned to the left, then the right, and continued to walk, deep in thought. His eyes traced to the details around him, weeds as well – clawing and growing from the cracks, some bent in an arc from the moisture.

“Persistent…” remarked Daiden, absent-mindedly. His mind numbed to the bleak, dark environment. “It’s just walls everywhere…what kind of a place is this?”

The two men persisted in silence, without conversation for another hour.

[Should we set up camp somewhere, to eat, maybe have a normal conversation?] asked Leda.

[Not yet, not here anyway,] said Daiden, shielding against a wave of cold. He took another step on instinct, one more, in thought this time, and stopped. [Hold on. You rest here for a bit. I might be able to scout the area faster by myself.]

[You do have a point,] admitted Leda. [How long will you be gone?]

[Not more than half an hour,] assured Daiden. [Don’t worry too much. I won’t utter a word out loud.]

With a smile, Daiden separated from the priest and waded into the darkness. After some time, he scurried at the pace of a rodent, along the walls and on all fours sometimes. He mapped the locations of three hordes in the vicinity, each with at least thirty undeads, one with an Acri as well. He retreated with a frown, glued to the walls once more. Daiden watched the light uncover stone after stone, locked in a pattern of geometric precision. But with a flicker, he noticed something different – an iron door. He pushed away from the wall and tried the handle.

“It’s locked from the inside?” realized Daiden, finding the door unlatched on his end. “That’s strange.”

Daiden pressed his ear against the cold iron, but heard nothing from the other side. Uncertainly, he knocked on the door. He waited for a response and tried the handle again. He heard a gasp this time – soft, almost inaudible. Daiden quickly stepped away from the door and walked a few hundred meters towards his right. He retraced his steps and moved past the door, towards his left.

“Well, not a lot of hostilities nearby…” concluded Daiden. He returned to the door. “Anyone there? I’m here on a formal quest from the Lord’s Castle; ah, from Minister Tyr!”

With a weak smile, Daiden noticed the spell of concealment break in that moment. He swallowed a nervous lump in his throat and waited, with a growing impatience.

“You’re…alive?” a voice said, from the other end, a whisper.