Author's note: try only reading the green and pink parts and you'll realize how strange our llittle dungeon really is.
Windwhistler?
I'd never heard that name before, but...my parent said Dungeons didn't have Melody Caves, Flute Lines or Dripping Drums like I did, using echoes and wind and water to achieve wonders. The wind whistles in my caves, though that made what I had come to love sound so simple, not at all like the unfathomable thing I had come to know, the name cast an echo within me.
Windwhistler.
Yes.
[Maybe.]
For the first time, I tried to give a clear answer. I had no way of finding where this stranger speaking to me might be, or how it could speak to me. Before, there had been the assumption that my parent could speak to me because I had once been a part of it. Now my thoughts had been proven wrong.
To be proven wrong opened so many new possibilities, yet at the same time another feeling seeped into my very being. It was strange. There was curiosity and a little hurt, an unwillingness to accept what I had just learned and a need to justify myself for assuming too much. It was overshadowed by a sense of new hope and excitement, though the reason, or rather the idea of what this ew discovery might mean was exceedingly fuzzy. This aimless, spirited mood made me wish to...to do something! To find new things, to do more than what I had been this whole time.
Almost I wished I could ask my parent, but I could already guess what the answer would be.
Advice on how to be a proper dungeon that I had no interest in becoming.
"Ah, good then. I heard you liked weird things. The so called great mysteries within the useless arts like farming and music and all that. Can't see any sense in that myself, really."
Its spoke again. And in a way I was not familiar with.
In just a few sentences this other voice had given me so many new concepty I truly wished to ponder them quietly, but now was not the time, no matter how much the mention of mysteries within my...arts?...stirred my mind.
Arts. My parent had spoken of the arts of wood fire and the arts of winter's ice, of the need to follow an art that held to a single principle for too many, no matter how gread an art like music might be that involved wind and movement, waves and all materials, water and the interaction of materials and so many other things there would never come a day I would see a true end to my love for exploration in music or so I thought. Why would I ever follow a single principle on my way? Why would it be useless when music made my life so full of new things I hardly understood as of yet?
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"....Are you ignoring me?"
...Ah! I had drifted off into pondering before I noticed.
My parent had lectured me before, telling me to answer when I was spoken to.
[What do you wish of me, to contact me in such a way of your own free will?]
"So you are as weird as they say? Well, in that case I have a goblin specialised in illusion magic that would be perfect for you. Honestly, I don't get what that little thing is doing, painting arrays to imitate flowers in my dungeon. The two of you could be the weird and weirder couple."
The words had me stumped. I hardly understood anything at all. First of all, what was this 'magic' the other dungeon was telling me about? What was an illusion? A flower...I'd never heard that word before. And what kind of wondrous being could this goblin entity refer to? If painting could create new things I, too, wished to learn what it was!
Would the wonders this world held ever stop surprising and fascinating me?
I would find gread joy in exploring all these new concepts, slowly and carefully. I would not ssimply ask, for what was an answer worth if one had not walked the whole way step by step and felt all the emotions such an exploration could bring?
[I cannot express my gratitude to you. If there will ever be a day in the future when I will find myself in a position to repay your gift to me, I will do my utmost to show my sincerity.]
How could I not be thankful to one who had just widened my horizons?
"Hah? What on earth are you going on about? First you ignore me and then you give me a headache, seriously! Just take that thing, it's making my headache worse."
Out of nowhere a small, light green shape appeared above my little lake and fell in with a splash.
The puzzling conversation partner I still felt great gratitude for seemed to have lost patience with me, but had still left me with another, even greater gift! Full of joy, I turned my gaze towards the new arrival.