Tibs formed the ice wall as soon as he rounded the corner and saw the archer letting loose an arrow. Jackal ran around it as the arrow hit, grinning, and headed for the team of golem people. Tibs kept the others occupied with hurried jets of water until the fighter was on them. Then he formed a shield and sword and joined in, targeting the sorcerer, whose element Tibs sensed as… sparkles? Like multitude of small embers flying over a fire, but each connected to the other, and moving much faster.
The faceless sorcerer gestured, etching essence. Tibs couldn’t tell the nature of the etching without knowing what the element was, but lines converged and spiraled; the hallmark of an offensive etching. Tibs thickened the ice on his shield as he raised it and readied himself for the impact. The attack passed through and around the shield, and detonated into Tibs before he got over the surprise.
He was on his back, his body twitching out of his control, water slipping away. What had happened? How? He thought he’d screamed, but he couldn’t tell if his body reacted to his mind. Whose mind? Where was he? Why was he in so much pain?
He wanted to pain to end. He hadn’t done anything to deserve being in such pain… had he? How could he? He’d never done anything. He hadn’t been anyone until now.
Please make it stop!
There has to be—
Something. Right there. He didn’t know what it was, or how he grasped it, but he felt it; this gray…ness? However he was doing it, he had it. He tugged on it hard and the essence fled around him and into the floor.
The pain in his chest eased, and he breathed again. He channeled purity, and the enduring pain finally ended. He channeled metal again in case the sorcerer attacked. He didn’t know why it had protected him, but until he was certain that golem person was dealt with, he was sticking with this element.
“That,” he snarled as he got to his feet. “fucking hurt!” He pulled the essence out and… realized he didn’t know how to etch with it.
Fine. He didn’t need anything fancy. He coated his armor with it and headed for the sorcerer. Metal was hard, and it protected him from the golem’s element.
“Tibs?” Mez called, sounding surprised. He was looking over his shoulder, staring at him. “Don, keep them busy!” Then he was standing before Tibs, whispering, “What’s with your eyes? How did you get metal?”
“I had an audience.” Tibs pushed Mez out of his way. Jackal and Khumdar were fighting the rogue and archer. Tibs pulled his attention away as the fighter’s punch connected with the rogue, only for the skin to ripple like water, and Khumdar was too busy deflecting arrows to step close enough to strike back.
He locked eyes on the sorcerer who was throwing lighting in Don’s direction. The corruption intercepted it and they erupted into a sickly cloud of sparkles.
Mex caught his arm, forcing him to stop. “You can’t do this now,” he said. “How much training do you have?”
Tibs moved his gaze to the archer. “Let go of me, Mez,” he replied and a low, menacing tone. “Or I will make you.”
“So, that none.” He let go, and Tibs resumed heading for the sorcerer.
“What is he doing?” Don asked as Tibs passed him. Another jet of corruption flew and exploded in sickly sparks as lightning caught it.
“A Jackal thing,” Mez replied angrily. Arrows joined the attack, but lighting flew out of the cloud to break them apart, even those made of fire.
Tibs ignored the bits of essence that splashed out of the cloud. The corruption and fire that fell on him he absorbed, and the lighting zipped around and into the floor barely tickling him.
“Tibs!” Khumdar yelled, and he ignored him too. His friends could deal with the rest of—he staggered from the arrow’s impact and glared at the golem archer. He’d deal with that one next.
The golem sorcerer looked at Tibs now. A gesture and an etching formed. Now that he wasn’t bothering trying to understand it, he saw the lightning come at him. It hit and traveled over him. This one stung but didn’t quite qualify as pain before it sank into the floor. Tibs grinned as he kept walking
The golem sorcerer sent lightning after lightning at him while still stopping Don and Mez’s attacks. The stinging increase as Tibs got closer, but he didn’t care. Whatever he had to go through, he was going to make that golem pay for that initial pain.
No emotions showed on that featureless face, but Sto had to be wondering what was going on; if he was even paying attention. The dungeon didn’t seem to be around his team all that much anymore.
Something else Tibs would address. If Sto liked him like he claimed, why was he spending so much time not watching him defeat his creatures?
He added earth to the metal as he raised his arm and gritted his teeth in pain as more lightning hit. This close, they definitely hurt, but he’d heal himself afterward. He punched it in the stomach and the golem flew against the wall. With the step he took to go finish it, corruption and fire impacted the golem and it crumbled.
Tibs ground his teeth. That had been his kill. Something else to address after he took care of the other golem who had hurt him.
The archer staggered from the corruption, and Khumdar broke it with a hit of his darkness covered staff.
Another of his kills they’re taken from him. He was going—
“Stop.” Jackal stood before him.
“They—”
“I said, stop.”
“I will not—”
“I’m the team leader,” Jackal stated, earth essence spreading through his body. “You follow my orders. Don’t make me stop you.”
Tibs glared up at the man. They were supposed to be friends. Why wasn’t he letting him—
“Now,” Jackal growled quietly. “Let go of it.”
“I need to—”
“Not like this,” he whispered through clenched teeth. “Not until we’ve had a talk about you keeping this from me. Water. Now.”
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Tibs glared, considered putting his unending reserve of metal to the test against Jackal’s vast one of earth; as well as the years of practice the fighter had at kicking asses. He relaxed. There would be time later. When his friend wasn’t expecting it. Tibs was a rogue, after all. He shouldn’t be looked to fight face to face.
He let metal go, and heat flared. Carina’s reproachful dying expression. Sebastian’s gloating laugh. Tirania parading him before nobles who drank in her lies. Water filled him, and the pain lessened. The heat tempered, making his loss almost bearable.
He iced the water. Bearable wasn’t enough. He needed it gone.
“I’m good.”
Jackal snorted. “I doubt that, but that’s also for another time.”
“I’m sorry for—”
“Later, Tibs.” Jackal turned from him. “What do we have?”
“A pair of boots,” Mez said, taking them from Don, who stared at Tibs. “An iron bracer from the fighter.”
“Coins from the rogue,” Khumdar said, “eight silver.” He nodded to where the archer had been, and only the bow was left.
Tibs looked at where the sorcerer had crumpled, and a leather tube lay in its place. He checked it for traps, then removed the end-cap. He pulled four pages out with lines and symbols on them; He recognized some as Arcanus. “Don, what are these?”
The sorcerer took the offered pages but continued to stare at Tibs. He shook himself and looked at them, his eyes widening as he flipped through the pages. “Spells,” he exclaimed, looking at the others. “These are spells. I’ve read about dungeons including spell pages in their loot, but I never thought I’d…” His face fell. “I never thought I’d get to see some.”
“So, that’s just for sorcerers?” Jackal asked, strapping the bow to Khumdar’s pack.
Don studied the pages. “No, these seem to only have one element each, so anyone with that element can learn from them, if they know how to read spells. I’d have to do some research to figure out the Arcanus used in them.”
Tibs looked at them, trying to determine which of the letters Don meant.
“Once we’re out, you can work on that,” Jackal said. “Tibs, how do we—”
Don laughed bitterly. “Work on what?”
“Those,” the fighter replied.
“I can’t just research them from memory. There’s essence in them that I have to work out. Any research I’d do needs me to use these spells pages. What, you think that once the guild has them they’ll be nice and let me borrow the pages so I can learn things they don’t think I’m anywhere near ready to learn? Do you know what rank I have to be before they’ll even let me look at spell pages? How much they’re going to charge me for the privilege?”
“Can you get the books you need without the guild?” Jackal asked.
“Possibly, I have…” he glanced at Tibs. “Contacts who might be willing to lend me some, but you aren’t listening to me. I can’t do any research without these pages, and these aren’t thing the guild will let us buy back, even if we had a king’s coffer to pay with.”
“We’re not giving them to the guild.”
“Is that wise?” Khumdar asked, adjusting the pack.
“He’s on the team, right?” Jackal nodded to the staring sorcerer. “And those can help him make us stronger.”
“How are you going to get them past the sorcerer looking over our loot?” Don asked. “They’re trained in detecting anything with essence. I know a few teams managed to sneak small stuff by them, but this?” He shook the pages. “This isn’t small stuff.”
“Seems like you haven’t been keeping up with what’s been happening,” Jackal said, examining the bracers. “That’s not the biggest stuff anyone’s gotten past the check table.” He added them to Mez’s pack.
“What? No, I’d have heard if anyone had managed it. There’s no way to—”
“Are you, or are you not part of the team, Don?” Jackal demanded.
The sorcerer stepped back under the intensity. “I—yes, of course. Tirania put me on it.”
“Then you need to start trusting that we know what we’re doing.”
“That’d be fucking easier to do if you weren’t all hiding something,” Don snapped, pointing to Tibs. “Like what was that? That arrow should have gone through his shoulder. Instead he gets staggered and his armor’s not even scratched.” He pointed to Khumdar. “What’s with your cleric? And where are you getting all that essence for your arrows, Mez?”
“Not going to complain about what I’m hiding?” Jackal asked.
Don rolled his eyes. “I know you’re smarter than you let on.”
“Ice is hard,” Tibs said. “It’s harder the more essence I put into it.”
“Ice doesn’t deflect lightning the way it was dancing over you without doing anything,” the sorcerer countered harshly.
“Don,” Mez said gently, “you should—”
“Don’t ‘I should’ me, Mez. I’m fucking trying, okay? But how the fuck am I supposed to be part of the team if I don’t even know the people I’m on the team with?”
“Maybe you should have thought about that,” Jackal replied in the same harsh tone, “before you went out of your way to piss off each and everyone of us.”
“Don had never had that effect on me,” Khumdar said.
“Where did the team sticking together go?” Jackal said with a sigh.
“Ah.” The cleric turned a severe look on the sorcerer. “Yes, Don, you really should not have exasperated me so much if you wished for me to share my secrets with you.” He looked at the fighter. “Better?”
“Yes. Although it would be more believable if you’d shared some of these secrets with the rest of us.”
“Maybe you, too, have exasperated me too much.”
“I know Tibs hasn’t.”
“And how certain are you I have not shared some of my secrets with him?”
Jackal closed his mouth, considered it, then nodded. “That’s a good point.”
Don threw his hands up. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”
“Not if I can help it,” Jackal replied.
“One thing,” Tibs said. “You take one thing seriously, all the time.”
“No, I don’t,” Jackal protested, then frowned. “Oh, right.” He grinned at the sorcerer. “I take Kro very seriously.”
“How have any of you survived with that kind of attitude?”
“We’ve survived this long,” Mez said, “because we act like this. It took me a while to figure it out, but this place is going to kill me, eventually. If I let that stress me out, it’s just going to speed up the process. Then, once I started looking at the dungeon that way, I realized that stressing out anywhere just speeds up my death. Now, I joke where I can, because the rest of the time I’m too busy surviving.”
“That…” Don shook his head. “That makes no sense. Surviving requires attention, focus. Even Tibs knows that, considering what he’s doing with his element.”
“And how long can you maintain that, Don?” Jackal asked. “How long can you spend thinking only about how you’re going to survive, while you let people around you die?”
“That is unfair,” Mez snapped, as Don’s face fell. “Don has his problems, but you are not helping by constantly shoving his mistakes in his face. You don’t hear us always bringing back how you’ve thrown yourself into fights without us and nearly died in them.”
“Actually,” Khumdar started.
“Right, bad example.” Mez let out a breath. “Look, you keep telling him to trust us so he’ll be part of the team. How about you start trusting him beyond how he can help us, and as an actual person?”
Jackal’s expression darkened. “Maybe if—”
“I’m sorry,” Don whispered.
“Don,” Mez said. “It isn’t you that—”
“I’m sorry I was an asshole when we first met. I’m sorry I treated you like trash when you were on my team, Mez. I’m sorry I blame you for so much, Tibs. I know that after everything I’ve done, it doesn’t mean much, but I am sorry. It doesn’t matter if you never see me as anything other than how I acted back then. I do want to change.” Don let out a breath as he looked at them. “I told Tibs I was going to be a scholar before I ended up here. What I didn’t tell him was that my family was—”
“Stop,” Jackal said.
“I’m trying to explain why I acted the way I did.”
“And I appreciate that.” The fighter motioned around them. “But this isn’t the place, and we don’t have the time. What’s more important? Having this conversation or getting through this room so we can find the actual loot it’s got to be hiding somewhere.”
“You’d…” Don seemed uncertain. “Give up loot so I can explain myself?”
“Yes, Don. I am able to put something before loot.”
“Is he joking?”
“Do I look like I’m being funny?”
“No.” The sorcerer swallowed. “And that’s kind of disconcerting.”
Jackal grinned. “Good. Tibs?”
“I think we have more to gain by resolving this with Don. The room will be here on our next run.”
“I meant how do we continue, but fine. Mez, your thoughts?”
“I have no idea how we deal with the room.”
“I mean about Don.” Jackal sighed.
“Oh, I’m for giving him the time to tell us what he needs to say.”
“Khumdar?
“You know I am always pleased to listen to secrets being exposed.”
“It’s not a secret,” Don protested. “I just don’t volunteer the information.”
“Alright.” Jackal grumbled, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this.” He put on a brave face. “Tibs, work on getting us out of here so I can listen to Don’s life story instead of enjoying well-earned loot.”