Taking a grip on himself, Darell wiped his face on his sleeve and begrudgingly forced his mind to the present. He needed to think rationally; emotions would have to wait until he was in a more stable position.
He looked around the cave he found himself in. The roof was a good three metres above him and the cavern was maybe ten metres across, with two exits on opposite sides. What had they called this place? The dungeon? That didn’t sound particularly promising.
He noticed that the mist was moving slowly toward one of the exits. Could that indicate a way out of the dungeon? It seemed as good a direction to take as any, and so he set off.
As he moved through the opening, he let out a small gasp. The light from the crystals embedded in the walls was stronger here, illuminating a large expanse before him. The crashing sound of large amounts of water could be heard from one side, where a stream snaked out of the darkness, feeding a gloomy lake. All manner of vegetation grew in the cavern, but not the mushrooms and algae that he had been expecting. Rather, there were trees at least ten metres in height. The mist still obscured Darell’s vision, preventing him from seeing how far the limits of the cavern went, but it covered an area that stretched, at minimum, a hundred metres in each direction.
Whatever this dungeon was, it was not what he had expected. Perhaps he had misheard? Regardless, it felt good to be somewhere a bit less confining. He began forward, heading towards the trees when he spotted something moving amongst them.
Out of the thicket emerged a lithe figure, resolving itself into the shape of a woman. Her skin was tinted green and her clothing was made of interwoven leaves. Her eyes were fixated on Darell and she moved quickly towards him.
“Hello?” Darell said as she approached and held up a hand “I, umm, don’t re-”, he was cut off as a brown spike emerged out of her palm, shooting in his direction. It did not separate from her hand, but rather grew outwards at impossible speeds. He stood gaping as it impacted his stomach and pierced his skin. He felt his head getting woozy and energy seemed to sap out of him. He tried to grab onto the root-like appendage that was now nestled in his gut but found that he didn’t have the strength to lift his hands, let alone grab hold or pull anything.
He was dying. Shouldn’t he feel scared? It was hard to think. He looked down at where the spike jutted into his body. Curiously, he felt no pain and no blood flowed out. The woman was grinning at him now and pulling him closer. What was that behind her? It almost looked like a ball of fire, flying through the sky. But fire didn’t fly, did it? The fire hit the woman and she started burning too.
No, it didn’t matter. He wanted to sleep. He was on the ground, which was uncomfortable, but that was fine. Then a person was next to him. They were making lots of sounds and waving their hands about. It was annoying. He closed his eyes, trying to block everything out. The sound was still there, but it was warm and cosy. That was enough. He started to drift into sleep when he felt cold water seep all over him. His eyes shot open and he glared daggers at the legs in front of his face. If looks could kill, those legs would not be begging for mercy right now. They would be dead from all the daggers going through them. See, he told the legs, I am not delusional. That makes sense.
He heard voices around him, but the sounds flowed together to produce an incomprehensible buzz. It was only a little irritating. He closed his eyes again and let the darkness claim him.
~~~~//—\\~~~~
Lucy frowned as she watched Mark tending to the wound in the boy’s stomach. His insides had been ravaged by the forest spirit, but it was nothing that Mark couldn’t heal. His fingers moved quickly, arranging everything perfectly before pouring in and directing mist to mend the damage. Even so, she could feel his frustration as he tended to the boy. Mark did not like the unexpected, and this boy was certainly that.
They were currently far below the surface, long past the point where any but the most experienced and powerful of delvers could survive for long, yet here this boy was carrying nothing more than a white garb. No equipment and no supplies. No party around to watch his back.
Stranger still was how the boy had confronted the forest spirit. He had not tried to run but rather walked willingly into its deadly embrace. That seemed to indicate that he was suicidal, ignorant or possessed an aberration that would allow him to survive. However, all three possibilities had problems. They told an incomplete tale. The boy was an enigma, but that just made him all the more interesting.
She was broken out of her contemplations as Tiberius, the leader of the expedition, made his way over to her. As she watched him approach, she felt the legion of voices that always appeared like a roaring aura around him. With some effort, she forced herself to focus until they were reduced to a mild, if persistent, chattering.
Just as he was about to reach her, she heard Mark curse and felt a strong sense of surprise from him. Lucy reached out to him, gently pushing against his mind. Mark didn’t put up any resistance and let her in, allowing her to probe deeper to get a more complete image of his thoughts. Apparently, the boy had exhibited an intense fever and had been sweating profusely when Mark had found him. At first, he had assumed that it had resulted from the wound in his stomach, but it had persisted, even worsened, after said wound had been healed. He had systematically searched for the cause, and found to his surprise that what the boy was experiencing was in line with an accelerated mist-osmosis. Based on the severity of the symptoms, it was likely that the boy was only now going through his awakening.
“What do you know?” Tiberius asked roughly, observing Lucy’s face intently.
“Mark found… it appears that the boy is going through his awakening at the moment,” Lucy whispered hesitantly as her mind raced to consider all of the implications.
Tiberius was silent for several long seconds. Finally, he made a decision.
“I don’t like this,” he growled, “Killian couldn’t find any tracks other than the boy’s nearby, and his tracks stop nary a few hundred paces from here. If what you say is true then he must have travelled down here exceedingly quickly. It smells of teleportation. Powerful magic, that. Likely to draw attention this far down.”
As he spoke, he squinted hard at the walls, as if not trusting them to not suddenly rush in and crush the party at any moment. Which, Lucy supposed, was an entirely valid fear to have. The dungeon did not appear to have stirred yet, which was a good sign, but it was not conclusive. Sometimes it had been known to act with more care, slowly tightening the noose until its prey had nowhere left to go. Moreover, the dungeon itself was not the only thing that could sense magic of such calibre down here. She shivered slightly as she imagined all sorts of horrors crawling their way toward what must have been, for them, a blinding light.
Then again, it could have been something other than teleportation magic. It was best not to get too attached to any particular theory.
“Not much to do about it now, anyway”, he continued, “We’re heading for the surface, we’ve collected quite the haul already. I’ve half a mind to leave him, but I don’t think Mark would stand for that after healing the boy. Inform the others that we are pulling back.”
Lucy inclined her head in acknowledgement and relayed the message telepathically, feeling a small smile playing on her lips. Tiberius was much softer inside than he let on to anyone, including himself.
As Tiberius was walking away he called out.
“And see if you can pull some answers out of the boy when he wakes. Against his wishes, if you must. We cannot rule out the possibility that this is all a trap to get us to lower our guard. I want to know what in the dungeon's ass I am dealing with.”
Lucy’s smile widened; it had been a while since she had gotten permission to delve deeply into a sentient mind outside of the party. It should prove interesting.
~~~~//—\\~~~~
Darell woke up feeling like his head had been smashed repeatedly against a table and then tied down with weights and put out in the sun to dry. Blinking away his grogginess, he tried to stretch out his limbs only to find that his mobility was severely limited. Taking a moment to get his bearings, he realised that he was lying on the back of a cart, his hands and feet tied tightly together with thick ropes. He was surrounded by a number of brown sacks, some of which emitted an almost unbearable stench that made him feel slightly nauseous.
As his headache began to recede, he carefully shifted around to get a better view of his lower body. After feeling no immediate pain from his actions, he grew more confident and managed to move his hands such that they were brushing up against his stomach. He didn’t feel any pain and was unsurprised by the lack of a hole this time round. Perhaps he had died, gotten a new body and been placed in a different world again. Maybe this time he could submit his time to a speedrunning category.
“Finally awake, are we?” A voice observed from beside the cart, and a few moments later a woman stepped up onto the cart and looked down at where he was lying sprawled amongst the sacks. She could have been taken right out of a fantasy novel, wearing leather armour with a sword strapped to her belt. Her brown hair was tied up in a neat braid she looked to be in her early twenties. Her hands and face were also partially transparent. That is to say, her body but not her clothes was see-through. At the moment, however, that particular eccentricity was rather far down the list of priorities.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
After weighing a few different questions in his mind, Darell decided that there was one he rather desperately wanted an answer to. Steeling himself, he asked, “Are we on Earth?”.
The woman looked at him, widening her eyes slightly before putting on a smile.
“You are currently in the dungeon, hundreds of feet below the surface,” she paused for a moment, then continued upon seeing his blank face, “we believe that you were teleported down here from the surface. Perhaps you can explain how you ended up down here?”
Looking down at the knots around his hands and feet, she added “I am sorry about the ropes, we needed to make sure that you were not a threat,” but she made no move to remove them.
Her words sealed the nail to the coffin. Perhaps it was the way she spoke, or how casually she mentioned teleportation, or just her clothes, but Darell felt certain that wherever he was, it was not on Earth. He felt a growing pit in his stomach and bit his lip to keep it from quivering.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. We are heading back for the surface now. You are safe”, she said softly, her eyes seeking his as he looked away, blinking rapidly.
“It is clear that you are not from around here. You are scared and lost. I want to help you, but to do that I need you to tell me what you remember. Can you do that for me?”
He nodded, taking several deep breaths and focusing on the facts of what he had experienced.
Hesitantly at first, but with growing confidence, Darell told the woman of the day's events; being shot by an arrow, meeting Vishatu, finding himself in the dungeon and being attacked. She sat down on one of the sacks on the cart and listened patiently, eyes scrutinising his face as he recounted what had happened. When he was done, she stood up.
“An interesting story, and it certainly would explain… some oddities. The ‘Great One’ that you have described matches the description given by Champions of the god Vishatu.” She studied his face silently for a moment.
“If you truly did meet Vishatu…” she muttered, before breaking off, and turning to observe his face intently again. “I just realised that we haven’t introduced ourselves yet. My name is Alexandra, what’s yours?”
“Darell.”
“Well Darell, I have chosen to believe you for now,” she stated cheerfully, and began untying his ropes. “Since you have shared what you know, I think it's only fair that I do the same. This world is called Iboria. Every few generations, the Dungeon that we are now passing through spawns a core and multitudes of monsters swarm out to consume all human life in a coordinated attack, with previously warring species setting aside their differences as the core subsumes their wills.”
“Each time this happens, Vishatu summons champions from other worlds into the dungeon with various blessings to lead us against the core. From what you have said, it appears that you were brought along accidentally.”
“Luckily for you, it would also appear that you managed to snap up at least one blessing on your way. Have you given any thought as to how it is that we are able to communicate right now? One of the blessings is the gift of discourse. It is written in the cave of the firstborn that ‘no word, spoken or written, will be obscured from them’ and that ‘their voices will be heard by all’. More plainly, Champions can understand any language and are in turn understood by everyone who hears them speak. Does that make sense so far?”
Darell nodded, feeling a bit overwhelmed at the information.
“There are three official blessings granted to champions, and two or three unofficial blessings depending on who you ask. Before you get your hopes up, I know that you don’t possess some of them and suspect that you don’t possess any. The official blessings are the gifts of discourse, seclusion and veracity. You are already familiar with the gift of discourse. The gift of seclusion prevents others from reading or meddling with your mind and the gift of veracity allows you to know when you are being lied to. Unfortunately, my name isn’t actually Alexandra. It is Lucy. Moreover, I have been in your mind since you woke up."
Darell felt a chill go through him. He was in a world with magic, he should have been expecting something like this, but he hadn’t been. He felt violated and exposed. For all he knew, she could be planting thoughts in his mind and changing his emotions. It was unlikely given that his current thoughts and feelings weren’t exactly positive with regard to Alexa- Lucy. But perhaps that was just the conclusion she wanted him to draw. His arms and legs were now untied and he shifted himself away from Lucy, even as she watched him silently, head tilted to one side as if listening. To his thoughts. Darell felt some bile rise into his mouth.
Finally, she stood. “I think that it is better that we continue this conversation at a later date. I’ll have Killian check in on you and bring you some food.” She then turned and got off the wagon.
~~~~//—\\~~~~
Ok, so maybe he had overreacted a bit, but thoughts were meant to be private. It was not a question of whether he had anything to hide, in fact, he had been completely truthful with Lucy throughout their conversation. It was about the principle. As much as people thought they could glean from the outside, his thoughts had always been his own. A place that no one else had access to. That idealistic image of the world was now shattered.
No, he was overreacting. Blaming it on magic did no good either. Technology had been developing to translate brain waves into something meaningful, being able to read other peoples thoughts was just the next step. It also didn’t change the fact that his subjective experience of the world would remain unique and ineffable to other people. Even if someone could read his every thought, they still wouldn’t know what it was to be him. He would just have to be more mindful regarding his thoughts from now on. That wasn’t to say that violating someone’s privacy by reading their mind without consent was justifiable, but it wasn’t the end of the world. This wasn’t even the biggest bombshell Lucy had dropped on him.
She had called the being he had met a god. Most likely that was god with a small ‘g’. After all, despite his imposing presence, Vishatu had definitely seemed more human than almighty and all knowing… Even so, the implications were scary to contemplate. Darell hadn’t been particularly religious back on Earth, but he wasn’t a full blown atheist either. If anything, he would probably define his position more along the lines of being an agnostic. If God did exist, his ways were mysterious and unknowable. The way things were going, that was something he might have to revise.
Then again, he could not deny the small voice inside him that was secretly elated at the possibility of exploring the unknown. Of finding the secrets of this world and, if at all possible, learning its magic. It was a silly voice, but he clung to it all the same. Being an alien in an unknown world with no way home, he needed the strength and motivation that it provided. As it was, he felt a dark storm of negative emotions lurking just below the surface of the tides, threatening to explode out and consume him at a moment's notice. Come on, happy thoughts Darell. Magic. Instantaneous healing and teleportation. It’ll be fun! Just get your hands on a tinfoil hat as soon as possible and everything should be rainbows and sunshine from there.
Darell was interrupted from his thoughts as a translucent head stuck out of the floor of the wagon mere inches from where he was sitting. Despite everything, his immediate reaction was to stand up and back away, but in his haste he tripped and landed in a heap.
“Hello there!” The head said cheerfully, a much too smug grin plastered on its face as it regarded Darell’s unfortunate position. Then two arms stuck out of the floorboards pushed against it, pulling a body attached to the head onto the wagon, “The names Killian.”
Killian turned out to be a young man in his twenties. He had a very lean build and, just as with Lucy, was wearing leather armour. He was also carrying a tray with what looked like gnarly roots on it.
“Darell,” he said, offering his own name.
“Lucy sent me to bring you some food”, he said, placing the tray he was holding next to Darrell, “I hear you come from another world.”
Darell eyed the roots suspiciously. He wasn’t feeling particularly hungry at the moment. “Yeah, so I’ve gathered,” he responded, “I don’t suppose you are also rummaging around in my head?”
“I see that you have met Lucy then. No, I cannot read your mind, but what I can tell you is that you have awakened. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Awakened?”
“Lucy mentioned you might not know what it meant. After a human has been in the dungeon for long enough, usually a few days, their body begins to change. They become enhanced; stronger, more durable, faster, that kind of thing. They also get an aberration. It manifests differently in different people. Lucy’s aberration is her mind powers. As for me, I can move through solid objects,” he said, phasing his hand through a sack to demonstrate. “I don’t suppose you have noticed anything different since you woke up?”
“I did wake up in an entirely different world with a new body”, Darell deadpanned. Trouble was, if something changed how would he know if it was a facet of the world or of him? Still, he tried thinking back. What has been different since he woke up? Not in the world itself, but in how he experienced it. “What kind of thing should I be looking for?”
“As I said, it varies a lot from person to person. Some can’t be felt. Some you might only find out about when the conditions are right. People have all sorts of aberrations: controlling fire, creating portals, being invulnerable.”
He thought for several long moments and was about to give up when something came to mind; “does your power also give you translucency?”
“No, you can see through me?” Killian asked.
“Yes. I hadn’t thought much of it besides all the other changes, but, well, there it is,” Darell sighed, figures that he would get the ability to see through people instead of anything interesting or powerful, “fun power, that…”
“Don’t concern yourself too much about it, I doubt being able to see through people is the full extent of your power. Powers seeming useless at the outset tends to be an indication that there is more to the power than what meets the eye,” Killian said, the smug smile appearing once again.
Darell rolled his eyes, but allowed himself to be a bit more hopeful at that. He didn’t need to write himself off as the main protagonist yet.
“There is one more thing that you should know. Now that you are awakened, your body is dependent on the dungeon. If you don’t come down here often enough, you will grow weaker and eventually die, and the stronger you become the deeper you will need to delve. Of course, the dungeon is an ever-adapting death trap filled with monsters. I don’t suppose you have trained to fight in your world?”
“No.” Great. Just great. Of course it wasn’t enough that he had been dropped off in a world he didn’t know. It just had to be a world where not only did monsters rise to the surface every now and then, but he had also just gotten superpowers that would kill him unless he went down and fought said monsters. That was just what he wanted.