Pashik stopped walking and looked ahead pensively.
In front of him stood an entrance leading to a dark hall.
He held out the torch in his hand, but the room ahead was too large, and the unsteady flame of the torch wasn’t enough to light it completely.
Unlike the rest of the maze, which consisted of narrow intersecting corridors, the area in front of him was quite open. It was wide enough to accommodate ten people standing side by side. As for its length - the opposite end of the room was shrouded in darkness and he couldn’t tell how far the walls extended.
He squinted his eyes, trying to peer through the shadows. For a second he thought he recognized a humanoid shape hidden within the darkness. But then the flame of his torch swayed, and when he looked again, there was nothing there.
Pashik instinctively tightened the grip around a club in his right hand. He had carved it out of hard pine wood and it was closer to an oversized branch than any real weapon, but it had a reassuring weight to it.
Initially, he couldn't wait to finally leave the labyrinth. But now that the exit was right in front of him, Pashik discovered he couldn’t take a single step forward.
“Katya?”
“I’m here,” a voice answered.
Katya was standing just a few steps behind him. Her face was pale, but if Pashik were to turn around, he’d have seen a determined look in her eyes. Unlike him, her weapon of choice was an iron sickle.
It was a division of labor they had developed over the course of their escape from the farmlands. Pashik would attack first, swinging his heavy club in a large arc and forcing the enemies to focus all their attention on him. Katya would stand in the back, and only move at the very last moment, jumping out to finish off her target in one quick movement.
The tactic was simple, but it had served them well when they got ambushed by a pair of robbers. Especially since the two men had never expected for the woman hiding behind her man to suddenly attack them as well.
“We’ll be entering a large hall. Remember to stay close, the light doesn’t reach the end of the room.”
“Okay.”
Pashik took a deep breath. There was reluctance written across his face, but ultimately he took a step forward and entered the hall. He could hear the faint sound of Katya’s footsteps following him from behind.
Back at the entrance, when the guards informed him that both of them should enter despite carrying only a single medallion, Pashik felt frustrated. It made him ashamed to endanger her like that. But Katya was adamant, and now he felt grateful for her stubbornness.
The truth was, the dungeon terrified him.
As serfs, bound to work on their lord’s lands since the day they were born, fear wasn’t a novel experience to either of them.
They feared long winters when the earth was frozen and they could do nothing but watch as the stockpile of food they prepared grew smaller every day. They feared dry springs, when not a drop of rain would fall to nourish the sprouts. They feared the arrival of autumn, when the soldiers came to collect the taxes.
But the dread he felt when exploring the dungeon was something different.
Katya and he were neighbours - that is to say - the plots of land their respective families were tasked with cultivating bordered each other. This had made their two families natural enemies.
Whenever an unattended animal crossed the invisible boundary separating the two fields to graze, it’d spark a long argument.
The quarrel usually began with one person angrily raising demands for recompense, but soon enough, the dispute would break down into a shouting match, in which both sides aired out all the grievances and resentments they had accumulated over the years.
As the quarrel grew heated, their parents would call for the rest of the family to come over and offer support. Back then, Pashik and Katya were too young to get sucked into the feud, so while their fathers screamed at each other, they simply looked at one another, curious about the only other child their age in the area.
It was only several years later that when Pashik looked at Katya, she’d blush and lower her eyes bashfully.
Their brief affair had come to an end the day when Pashik’s brother spotted them in the fields. Soon, the whole village knew.
Katya’s father had beaten her black and blue that day. Without wasting any time, he announced his intention to wed his daughter, and not long after, parents of eligible young men started visiting their house en masse.
The men congregated in the main room, where they discussed the size of the dowry over platters filled with smoked meats and glasses of home-distilled alcohol. Their wives were relegated to the kitchen. There, amidst whispers and hushed laughter they inspected Katya. Many expressed their approval seeing her rough hands - a good prospect that the girl was hardworking and would contribute to the household.
They eloped on the night of Katya’s sixteenth birthday.
Pashik brought with him a horse from his family’s stable, an old nag, moulting whatever was left of its coarse hair. Two gunny sacks were swung on its back, one filled with horse feed, the other with vegetables and small farming equipment.
Katya similarly carried a burlap sack with her, which she stuffed with preserved foodstuffs and tools.
He let her mount the horse and the two of them escaped into the night, following the direction that the tax collectors came from.
Whenever they could, they travelled through the forest and avoided open fields. While they were wary of accidentally running across a group of soldiers patrolling the land, it wasn’t the lord’s men that filled them with dread.
What really terrified them was the prospect of getting captured by the people from their village.
Any village that allowed their serf to escape was levied a murderous fine. It was enough to bring the richest community to a brink of extinction. It was also enough to make sure that no one was more determined to prevent serfs from abandoning their land than the serfs themselves.
As soon as the other villagers learnt of their escape, they would form a posse. But if Pashik and Katya were caught, there wouldn’t be much of a life left for them. To survive, one needs community. A person can’t harvest a whole field alone. Neither can he solely depend on the traders who seldom visit to exchange for goods they can’t produce themselves. But that was to be their fate if they didn’t succeed in their escape.
Their plan was to reach one of the larger towns of the barony and hope to disappear within the crowds of people living there.
Although they had luckily managed to avoid the pursuit of the other villagers, their journey wasn’t an easy one.
First, they had to abandon their horse when it got its hoof stuck in a burrow. Along with the animal, they had to leave behind most of the food and tools they brought with them, as they proved too burdensome to carry.
Their encounter with the robbers turned out to be a stroke of luck. The men who attacked them were so emaciated their bodies were barely able to support their own weight. The following battle was brutal but brief.
When Pashik searched their corpses, he discovered a pouch holding several silver coins - most likely a bounty from a richer target the men robbed before.
The money was of no use to them in the forest, but it proved essential when they tried to enter a town. The guard would have been blind not to recognize them as escaped serfs, but instead of reporting them, he simply pocketed two silver coins and even whispered directions to a place where they could safely spend a night.
It cost them another coin to pay for their lodgings.
When they saw the room they were to share with two dozen other people, they immediately realized they had been cheated. The odor of dirty bodies was so offensive, it beggared belief. One look at the wretches lying on the cots was enough to know that these people couldn’t possibly have afforded the same fee that the proprietor demanded from them.
Still, it was the first time in many weeks that they had a real roof over their heads. All they wanted was a chance to finally rest in a safe place.
Pashik had to fight off five men that night.
The room was cramped, making it difficult to freely wield his wooden club, but even if he were completely unarmed, chances were, he would’ve managed to defend himself regardless.
Pashik might have lacked the necessary skills or weapons to hunt anything larger than a hare, but together with Katya they were able to forage enough food to ensure that they had sufficient energy to continue on their journey. Neither of them could imagine the measure of deprivation that the town poor experienced.
Here, if you didn’t have the money to pay for food, you simply didn’t eat.
The men who attacked them bore closer resemblance to skeletons than living people. A single blow was enough to make them collapse to the ground. Even Katya was able to easily defend herself from an attacker that sneaked around Pashik and tried to assault her from behind.
Afterwards, Pashik and Katya hesitated whether they should flee the town and try their luck elsewhere. At least one of the men who attacked them was dead and they didn’t know how the powers in charge of the town reacted in similar cases.
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Before they could make up their minds, the owner of the house they were staying in came inside, alerted by the commotion. One look at the bloody club in Pashik’s hand and the bodies strewn across the floor was enough to make him understand what had happened.
Instead of alerting the authorities, the man merely curled his lips and asked Pashik to follow him to a house in a better part of town.
There, a clerk presented Pashik with an offer that could change his life.
All that Pashik had to do was enter the town dungeon and hunt enough monsters to trigger his awakening.
Pashik had a vague understanding of what the clerk meant. He knew that there were people blessed with extraordinary powers. Whenever the tax collectors came to their village, they were escorted by a squad of soldiers. Usually, at least one of them would make a demonstration of his strength to awe and amaze the serfs.
Pashik had never imagined he’d have a chance to join the ranks of such incredible individuals, but that alone wouldn’t be enough to inspire such excitement in him.
The clerk also told him that anyone who managed to awaken their powers was considered a free subject of the kingdom.
A free man.
To a serf, these words described something far more precious than even the greatest riches.
In order to enter the dungeon, you needed a special medallion bearing the insignia of the baron. As luck would have it, the clerk happened to be in possession of one. And all he wanted in exchange for it was the rest of the coins in Pashik’s pouch and that he signed a contract forcing him into the clerk’s employ for ten years.
When Pashik left the clerk’s office, he felt as if he was walking on air. His hands were tightly clutching the medallion. After he explained to Katya the contents of his conversation with the clerk, she wrapped her hands around his body and started crying uncontrollably.
They both felt blessed.
[...]
Pashik took a deep breath, hoping to calm his nerves.
The house belonging to the clerk who sold them the amulet was the first brick building Pashik had ever seen in his life. Its luxury was incomparable to the wooden huts strewn with thatch roofing that the people in his village occupied.
The walls and the floor of the dungeon were similarly laid with bricks, but when Pashik looked around, the sight didn’t make him wistful about the incredible wealth the owner of this place must possess.
Each brick was completely identical to the other. Their surface was smooth and glossy, and without a single blemish.
To Pashik, they felt horrid and unnatural.
They clearly didn’t form naturally. They also weren’t manmade. It was like the dungeon was a product of some alien power that didn’t belong to this world.
And he could feel it.
The dungeon didn’t want him.
***
He saw fire.
It couldn’t be compared to the magnificent display of his chief. The flame that the intruder carried was weak and unsteady. But it came from outside.
Maybe it was a piece of the sun that had fallen from the heavens. Or maybe the man had managed to lure a lighting from the sky.
He only had vague impressions of the world outside the dungeon.
His understanding was built upon the stories and descriptions their chief had decided to share with all the newly promoted captains.
The outside world was incredibly vast. You could choose a random direction and walk for hours without ever being obstructed by a wall.
If you looked up, you’d see a blue sky. The sky was infinite and encapsulated the whole world in its embrace.
Hunger was a foreign concept to the creatures inhabiting the outside. Earth gave birth to plants - living beings just like them, but devoid of their ability to move. You could just pluck them from the soil and eat them whenever you wanted.
It was a paradise.
But to be worthy to enter that paradise, they’d have to complete their mission first.
Defend the dungeon.
Kill the intruders.
Defend the dungeon.
Kill the intruders.
The call of the dungeon grew stronger with every passing moment. It rang out in his head, demanding that he fulfill his purpose. He could sense that the goblins under his command were also reaching their limits.
Still, he waited.
Finally, after exchanging some words, the two intruders entered the dark hall where he and his comrades lied in wait.
The man walked slowly. He used the light of his torch to illuminate the path ahead. The flames formed a bright halo around him, but it wasn't nearly enough to eliminate the darkness pressing on him from all sides.
Hidden within the shadows, the goblins slowly approached.
They were careful to match their pace with that of the intruders, using the sound of the footsteps to hide their own.
The man seemed to have put all his faith into the unsteady light of his torch. He looked straight ahead, completely oblivious to his surroundings.
When the flame of the torch swayed, it was the woman who spotted them first.
It was but a flicker and not enough to reveal their bodies. All she saw was a glint of light reflected off the cruel eyes peering at her from the darkness.
"Pashik!"
But it was already too late.
His comrades rushed towards the woman, surrounding her from all sides. They recognized her as the weaker prey. He sensed it as well, but the allure of the fire was too strong.
He ran past the other goblins towards the man holding the torch.
The woman reacted quickly to danger. She swung the sickle in her hand, cutting across the torsos of the two goblins in front of her.
The instincts that laid buried when they fought amongst themselves finally made their appearance.
Three goblins circled behind the woman and struck at her unprotected thigh. Their sharp claws easily tore through the tendons and the artery.
Warm blood sprayed out into the air.
When its sweet scent reached the goblins, it was as if they were hit by a dose of aphrodisiac. They forgot that there still remained another opponent and jumped at the woman like a pack of hungry dogs.
Jaws opened up as they fought for every bite just like they did back in the nursery.
A few metres further away another battle was taking place.
The intruder roared crazily and swung his club in a wide arc.
He took a step back, avoiding the weapon's path by a hair.
He recognized that the man was stronger than him. If that club were to smash into his body, it would easily break his bones.
But the man was distracted. His bloodshot eyes were completely focused on the woman lying on the floor instead of the enemy standing right in front of him.
The man swung his club again.
He ducked under the path of the weapon and closed the distance in two quick steps.
[Empowered Thrust!]
The air whined as his dagger shot towards the man's torso with incredible speed.
Droplets of blood sprayed everywhere.
The dagger encountered almost no resistance as it cut through the thin layer of clothing. It reached deeper and deeper, piercing through the internal organs.
The man groaned and looked down towards his open stomach.
There was an astonished expression on his face, as if only now he realized he was fighting someone.
"Katya..."
[Empowered Thrust!]
He used the last instance of his skill to go for the heart. This time the dagger had only made it halfway in, losing most of its momentum on the ribcage.
But it was enough.
Pashik fell to the ground. His unbelieving eyes stayed on the figure of Katya’s body. Her small physique was barely visible from behind the mass of excited goblins swarming over her.
"Katya..."
[Level up!]
[You have gained an attribute point!]
[You have gained a skill point!]
[New skills unlocked!]
A slew of messages appeared in the corner of his vision, but he ignored them.
The intruder had dropped his torch as soon as the fight began. It still laid on the ground, but its flame was now as unsteady as ever, seemingly on the verge of dying out.
He kneeled down and picked it up with utmost care.
The fire must have appreciated his gesture. As soon as he raised it from the ground, the flame regained part of its splendor, shining brightly and basking his face in its warmth.
Having secured the most important thing, he turned towards the goblins under his command.
When he saw how little of the prey was left he became furious.
He rushed to the woman's corpse and swung his torch at the goblins.
"WE FOLLOW TRADITION!' he roared.
One of the goblins raised its head and snarled at him. Seeing the rivulets of blood running down its mouth had made him even madder.
"WE EAT AS TRIBE!"
He kicked the goblin straight in the jaw.
It wasn't as if he became immune to the call of the beast. The air was suffused with the aroma of blood to the point where he was barely able to think straight. But he was their captain. Chief had shared the customs of the tribe with him, and he would do his best to uphold them.
It took a combination of flame, kicks, and even his dagger before he got the goblins under his control again.
They brought the two corpses to the deepest part of the dungeon where their chief resided.
The place was brimming with activity.
The center of the room was occupied by a massive cauldron. Teams that returned from their patrols gathered there to offer their spoils to the chief.
"Chief."
He and his comrades put the two corpses on the floor.
Their chief looked at them with appreciation.
"Welcome back, warriors."
A great sense of pride swelled in his chest, when he heard these simple words.
"Eat. Grow stronger. Defend the dungeon."
"Yes, chief!" they all bellowed in response.
They grabbed a few bowls and filled them with the stew simmering in the cauldron. They didn't have to worry that it wouldn't be enough. While the tradition demanded that they bring whatever they hunted back to the tribe, as warriors, the amount of food they could eat corresponded to the size of their prey. With the two corpses they brought this time, each of them could return two more times for another helping.
They found a secluded corner and rested on the floor.
His comrades weren't able to control themselves any longer and immediately dived into the stew in their bowls.
The process of cooking made the aroma of meat even more concentrated, and it was with utmost difficulty that he managed to restrain himself a moment longer.
He wanted to assign his points first.
The first choice was easy. Ever since he had received his dagger from the dungeon, he had fallen in love with the sensation of speed he experienced when wielding it.
[Your agility has increased.]
The other choice was more difficult. He could strengthen the special attack granted to him by the dungeon or unlock a completely new ability.
[Do you want to unlock your Past Memories?]
His understanding of what this new skill offered was limited.
But he couldn't forget the words with which their chief had addressed them when they saw him for the very first time.
"I am your Chief."
"I carry the memories of our tribe."
Without hesitating any longer, he made his choice.
[Do you want to unlock your Past Memories?]
[Yes.]