Rhen and the delve crew reported the Nexus node to pats on the back from the delve leader. She’d get a little cut of it, too, but it would be an extra five hundred dra coin added to Rhen, Pat, and Careless’ weekly earnings. It was a gross underpayment for such a find, but Rhen wouldn’t turn it down. He just had to survive the rest of the week now. No more wild risks. He’d play it safe and hang back.
In an effort to survive the rest of the week, Rhen made a stop at the Mastery node. He’d battled hard, and used his spells a fair amount all week, so it was likely he had expanded his anima and syntial capacity. There was a long line to get to the east wing mastery node—the one with good fighter abilities—but Rhen had some time to spare before he needed to get to the Down-N-Out.
When it was finally his turn, Rhen shooed off the other fighters, not letting them watch his selections. Rhen felt he was one of the better fighters in the realm for his versatility, and the other fighters knew it. He didn’t want anyone else copying his designs and giving him too much competition, though that wouldn’t matter so much when he owned his dungeon at the end of the week.
Rhen laid his hand upon the mastery node and felt the dungeon anima flow into him, assessing him. Light swirled into view in the long, glassy mirror on the wall that reflected his anima state.
[Rhen Zephitz – Full Assessment]
[Spell Assessment]
Number of Syntials: 4 | Highest Syntial Level: Prima, II
{Prima II: Swift Twitch}
{Prima II: Primordial Breath}
{Prima I: Tremor Blast}
{Prima I: Identity}
Syntial Build Analysis – Fighter Type, High Damage
[Anima Assessment]
Anima Capacity: 100% *Ready to apply a new syntial or upgrade an existing!
{2x Kinse – Light & Chaos Alignment}
{1x Mana – Chaos Alignment}
-----
The more he used his syntial spells, and pulled in anima, the greater his body’s capacity became. But the greater his capacity became, the more likelihood of his body exploding, which is where the syntials came into play. Because Rhen’s body couldn’t grow any bigger to support the additional anima swell, the magical syntials created a barrier around him, keeping his anima and his body intact under all the pressure of the power.
Prima syntials were basic, the lowest level but some of the most versatile spells. Ancilla became more specific and powerful, and once two or three ancilla were acquired, the delver was registered as an advanced combatant. Tertia, the third level, was where the more “godlike” powers came into play. By the time tertia syntials were applied, the body’s capacity would far exceed any creature naturally created in the realms.
There were levels after tertia that few had achieved, but they were legends, and Rhen had never encountered such a being himself. But even Prima II delvers were powerful, having more advanced powers than any creatures without syntials.
Bonding with monster cores expedited the process of anima growth, though Rhen couldn’t afford it—much like most of the poor fluffers working Desedra. They had to slowly, passively restore anima—or suck it out of the dungeon floor through their boots—and so their progression was like that of a snail.
Since he was at full capacity, Rhen would be able to apply a new syntial to help strengthen the anima barrier of his body. The syntials, magical mandala-like tattoos Rhen could adorn himself with, would strengthen his anima channels and allow the body to hold even more anima in it. Though difficult to accomplish, it was possible to overstuff the body with anima. Rhen had heard rumors of spontaneous combustion, gory explosions, and worse from anima overload, and had zero desire to experience it himself. He’d stick to applying new syntials and leveling up his skills.
The mirror flickered to life with additional options.
[Syntial Additions and Expansion]
Available Options: 22 {Expand? Y | N}
Recommended Options: 2
{Vibrational Dampening}
Prima I | Passive | Kinse | Chaos | No Anima Cost
Absorb vibration and convert into functional anima. Current vibrational force absorption potential at Level I; 50 pounds per hour.
{Swift Healing}
Ancilla I | Passive | Kinse | Life | Cost: 10% anima/hour
Append this syntial to Swift Twitch to increase passive healing. Passive healing increased by 25% at Level I. If anima well is emptied, passive healing will deactivate. Passive healing will reactivate as soon as the anima well reaches 20% capacity.
-----
There was no contest. If Rhen wanted to survive longer, [Swift Healing] was the right choice. Vibration absorption was useful indeed, but could wait. Rhen idly wondered what skills were in the hidden twenty options, but he was running out of time with the Mastery node and needed to hurry along. Desedra didn’t charge for the use of the Mastery node—a blessed fact indeed—but workers only got five minutes alone with it per week, so choices had to be quick.
Rhen selected swift healing and cringed as the power flowed from the Mastery node up into his arm. The Prima II syntial on his pec flared to life, and a new teardrop shaped blossom appeared poking out from the left side. A symbol inscribed in it that Rhen could not read, but knew that was the source of the power channeling. Words, especially in script, had power in his world.
With that complete, Rhen headed out—which took another good hour. It was late in the day when he made it to the market, so he only managed to peruse a few vendors before the sun began to set. He turned up back at the Down-N-Out for the evening, toes protruding from his boots, face covered in gore.
Jakira’s nose wrinkled in revulsion at the sight of him. “You need a bath.”
“Can’t afford a bath.”
“Your stench is going to drive away the other customers.”
“But I already paid for the week.”
Jakira growled. “Fine. Free bath. You’ll go after Mr. Aki. He’s on the third floor.”
Rhen grinned and headed toward the stairs. “You’re the best, never change.”
“I wish you would!” Jakira yelled after him.
Rhen turned back, a hurting pout on his face. “Say you don’t mean it.”
She rolled her eyes, then smiled. “Get out of here with your filth.”
The third floor was crowded with familiar faces from the night before, except “Mr.” Aki, whom he found waiting outside the bathing chamber. Rhen had never seen a Prelusk himself, but had heard wild stories of the cuttlefish-like creatures entrancing anyone who crossed their path. They used magic in mysterious ways, with and without syntials, controlling raw anima in logic defying feats of psionics and hypnosis. Stranger than all the other species, Prelusk refused to join the modern culture. They had a special accord with the Imperial Kingdoms to keep anyone out, except on express invitation, and they rarely left their realm.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
This Prelusk was a bit different than Rhen had imagined. He stood six feet tall in a man-shaped body made entirely of muddy water. At the top was his actual body, protruding up like a long, cone-shaped head. His skin glowed a gentle blue, but under the muddy water it was hard to tell if that was all. He had fins on the side of his head shaped sort of like ears that fluttered gently, and long tentacles trailing down the water body’s chest like a slimy beard.
“So, I’m bathing after you?” Rhen asked the Prelusk.
“You are?” Aki’s resonant voice vibrated through Rhen’s chest and then surged up to his head. The feeling was disconcerting, but Rhen tried to shake it off.
“That’s what the Cadrian downstairs said.”
“No. Who are you?” The voice moved through him smoother this time, as if he were adapting to its vibration, or maybe Aki was adapting it to him.
“I’m just a filthy delver who’s been ordered to bath.”
Aki’s fins fluttered and his color shifted between blue and green. “Your name?”
Rhen’s stomach turned, willing him to spit out his name.
Maddox.
Maddox!
He mashed his lips together and shook his head, trying to dislodge whatever magics had willed that word to the surface. It was wrong. That wasn’t him.
Rhen pinned Aki with a stern gaze. “That was rude.”
“Not telling your name to someone who has asked is rude.”
He wasn’t wrong, but fluffer didn’t have to use hypnotic magics against him to find out.
“It’s Rhen.”
“Good to meet. I am Aki.”
Rhen was getting the sense that this Prelusk was new to the common language. Maybe he was new to being not a fluffer, too.
“What’s brought you to Desedra?” Rhen tried for small talk as they waited, listening to the water run into the tub beyond the door.
“Pilgrimage.”
Rhen nodded. “I’ve heard about that. You tour the dungeons, fighting and gaining powers before you can return home. It’s some rite of passage, yeah?”
“Indeed.”
Dude was chatting his ear right off.
“Why do you do it?”
Aki turned to Rhen, his skin glowing brighter blue. His yellow eyes opened wider, and the black, star-shaped pupil dilated.
“Do you not know, or did I just ask a really dumb question?” Rhen was feeling a bit queasy under the Prelusk’s intense gaze.
“It is tradition for the last hatched. We must prove our worth.”
Touchy subject. Rhen thought of his own upbringing. Whether it was the Prelusk’s hypnotic ways, or just the feeling Rhen got from how he’d said worth, he wanted to share some insight.
“My parents gave me up to a delver’s guild before I was even weaned. I get the whole prove yourself thing, but trust me, it’s way more important to live up to your own expectations than any of theirs.”
Aki looked him up and down. “And are you?”
Rhen smirked. “That’s the trick. Have low expectations.”
The water was still running on the other side, and Rhen felt uneasy in the silence as the Prelusk watched him.
“So, why do you look like that?”
“This is my physiology.”
“No, I mean why do you have a body shaped like mine made of water, and your… body at the top like a head?”
He dropped down into the center of the watery mannequin and the water changed shape to be more like a Cadrian. He even grew watery horns and a little spade tail. “This is realm norming. I can pass in the population better if I look more like you.”
Rhen nodded thoughtfully. Prejudice was definitely a thing, especially in the war-realms. While the wars had ended long ago, the old hatred still burned between Shin’Bara and Resplendare—the Desedra’s home realm. Resplendians looked very similar to Shin’Barans, just a few subtle differences in the eyes, hair colors, and height. It was thought they were one race many millennia ago, having traversed the dungeon nexus nodes and populated the new realm. But something happened to disconnect them, leaving the populations separate and stranded until a few hundred years ago when they connected once more.
The door to the bath opened and a young Cadrian boy emerged, his skin glossy with steam. “It’s ready for you.”
Aki’s watery body moved just as Rhen’s own legs would and he stepped into the closet-sized bathing room. He turned back to Rhen, hand resting on the door. “I will consider your words.”
He closed the door, but not a minute later, opened it again. His watery body was clear and clean… and the water left in the tub looked like warm diarrhea. At least it didn’t reek as bad as Rhen did.
“My apologies,” Aki said as he passed Rhen through the door.
“Free bath is a free bath.”
Rhen discovered the brown tint was just dirt, which settled to the bottom of the tub after a minute of being still. He reserved a bucket of the cleaner stuff off the top, then washed his face and hair first. When the water was really starting to smell, he submerged the rest of himself, using a sliver of his precious soap.
He drained the water away, then slowly poured the bucket of mostly clean water over himself to rinse the soap when he was done.
Ah, a delvers life.
That night they were entertained by the same old bard and Aki, who used his psionic abilities to create dancing lights over the crowd. Pinks, purples, and reds streamed overhead like a river. Little blue and green bursts popped here and there, like a fish jumping out of water. They caused ripples through the steams of color that bounced along to the bard’s rhythm.
Rhen could watch it for hours, but his drooping lids said otherwise. He stayed as long as he could, until the crowd had thinned to just a few delvers and the performers. Rhen finally stood, bade the others a prosperous tomorrow, and made his way to the stairs.
“I must sleep.” Rhen felt Aki’s words dimly, like they were being spoken at a whisper. He wondered how the Prelusk did it, communicated that way. So strange.
Aki crossed the floor and followed Rhen up the stairs. “You work in Desedra Dungeon?”
“Doesn’t everyone here?”
“I would like to work with you tomorrow.”
“That’ll be up to the delve leader… Are you even registered? I thought you were on a pilgrimage?”
“All travelers must be registered so we may collect power on our journey. I am still in need of a tertia syntial before I move on from this realm.”
“Tertia?” Rhen stopped at the top of the stairs.
“Yes, I must acquire a tertia syntial before I depart each realm.”
“That’ll take you fifty years of delving Desedra. You’re better off finding a smaller dungeon group you can work with. Try the Dungeon Delver’s Guild tomorrow, they’ll point you to the right place—especially with skills like yours.”
Aki blinked, his fins fluttering. “I understand. Thank you for the advice.”
“You’re welcome. G’night.”
Rhen waved at the Prelusk and headed to his room. He plopped down with a heavy thud on his thin bedroll to vapid snores all around him. Soon enough, the discordant sounds became a symphony that helped him off to sleep.
The following five days flew by for Rhen, following the same pattern as every day that had preceded it. Wake, stuff face, work—saving Careless’ skin more than once—check on his dungeon, walk the market, stuff face, sleep.
Rhen was practically bouncing out of his skin the morning of payday. He took special care in making sure he didn’t get himself killed and set back two-thousand dra. The exit line from the dungeon took far longer than Rhen thought was possible, and for a moment, the idea that he might never get out of that line crossed his thoughts.
Preposterous, as it was…
Rhen leaned around to look at the precession, which was still plugging along slowly, when he noticed Aki’s dirty mud-body not too far ahead. So, he had decided to work for Desedra. Poor fool.
He made it out of the dungeon and a feeling of weightlessness took over. He was just a few steps away from being his own boss, a dungeon owner. Rhen floated over to the payments office and stood in yet another line, the euphoria battling with the anxiety.
What if the dungeon was taken?
It’d been listed for months, and no one had wanted it. It was fine.
What if Sen gave him trouble for quitting the delve after a score?
Sen could piss up a rope once Rhen was a dungeon owner. Nothing could touch him, not even a Desedra, once he had that shiny “D.O.G.” badge on his id syntial.
His pay was just over four hundred dra, to which he argued that the node find should've put him well over five hundred. The desk jockey sighed, referencing some old Desedra rule stating any injury sustained on the delve would come out of the delvers pay to cover repairs... damn that fluffer Pat and his missing fingers.
Either way, his pay was more than enough to free him—and give him some tools to get started. Rhen couldn’t help but run from the payment office all the way down to the Dungeon Owner’s Guild that moment. He skidded through the lobby with his toeless boots and came to a stop at the teller’s station. The same bored teller as the days before appeared. “Let me guess, SB9102?”
“Yes please,” Rhen said, unable to contain his grin.
The information pulled into view. It was still available.
Rhen’s heart pounded as he made the deposit that would get him the rest of the way there.
“You understand that by purchasing this dungeon outright that the D.O.G. is not responsible for any losses of life, limb, personal belongings, nor do we ensure—”
“I agree!” Rhen interrupted.
The teller shook his head, a tiny smile playing on his bored lips. He made a few sweeping gestures and the control in front of Rhen came to life. “Place your hand on the crystal to receive your mark of ownership.”
Rhen slapped his palm down on the node. Warm anima trickled up his arm to his id syntial on his side. There was a tingling ache as a new petal blossomed out from the mark, the light of it visible under his clothes. After a few short seconds, the pain stopped and the anima receded.
“Congratulations Rhen Zephitz, you’re a dungeon owner now.”
Rhen jumped from his seat, fists pumped in the air. “I’m a dungeon owner!”
“Shh,” the front desk attendant hushed him.
“I’m a dungeon owner,” he whispered with glee.
“Anything else I can do for you?”
Rhen caught his breath. “This has just been… I mean wow. Finally. I did it.”
“Best of luck out there.”
The magical glow faded, taking the teller with it. Only Rhen’s reflection remained. He looked at himself. No longer a boy fighting for his place in the world, but a man who’d seized it. He’d scrapped the bottom of the scummiest dungeons, bathed in filth, slept in a room with thirty other dudes, ate stale bread and monster meat… and it was all worth it.
He was a dungeon owner.