I shoved my nerves aside and pressed a palm to the door. The metal was etched with dips and grooves, coming together to form the shape of a bird at the center. I tapped it, humming to myself.

“Do you think this is a hint about the boss at the bottom?”

Clover eyed the symbol, grimacing. “I hope not. You don't have a long-ranged weapon, and I have very few spells that could hit an aerial target.”

The dread in her voice mirrored the knot forming in my gut, twisting into a painful lump that sat heavy as stone.

I pushed it down with considerable effort and tried to stay positive. “We don’t have any reason reason to believe that’s the boss. For all we know, the person who made these doors worshiped the spirit of birds.”

Clover’s tense shoulders relaxed a bit, and she nodded. “Right, we shouldn't go in expecting the worst. That being said, be ready for a fight. The first floor usually doesn't have monsters, but it looks like this dungeon has been untouched for years. Better safe than sorry.”

I gripped the hilt of my sword in acknowledgement, using my free hand to push the door open.

Stale air rushed past us, making me cough through the dry, warm wave. When it passed, I opened the door wider and took in the scene.

The room was massive, easily big enough to fit several wagons side by side. Unlit torches lined the walls, and inky shadows cloaked every corner. I eyed them warily.

“Do you have a spell that can detect monsters?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Clover shook her head, squinting into the darkness. “I sincerely wish I did; it would’ve saved me quite a bit of trouble. I can cast a light spell, but it will reveal our location to anything within sight.”

We couldn't stumble around in the dark––that was just asking for an ambush. But if we were going to be noticed either way though…

I set my pack down and rummaged through it until my hand brushed against heavy plate metal. Pulling it out, I spoke. “Then we'll forgo stealth entirely. I haven't worn this due to some recovering injuries on my arms, but I think it should be alright now.”

Before I could put it on, Clover raised an incredulous brow. “You were injured and didn't think to tell the healer?”

I shrugged. “You already said I shouldn't assume you'll heal me. Besides, my arms have mostly recovered––no more bone contusions at least.”

Her eyebrow inched higher. “What did you do to give yourself bone contusions?” Morbid curiosity painted her tone, as if she didn't really want the answer.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

I huffed, pulling on my boots. “I used a level ten spell to wound a dragon that was attacking my town.”

Clover froze, her mouth slightly agape as the information sank in. After a few minutes of stunned silence, during which I finished donning the rest of my armor, she snapped out of it with a sputter.

“You fought a dragon and lived?”

I nodded, absentmindedly rolling my shoulders to test the weight of the armor. “There weren't a lot of options. Either I attacked or laid down and let it kill me.”

Something told me it was better to keep the whole ‘I'm the son of the Mad King’ bit to myself. Dawncrest had nearly turned against me when they found out, and I'd been raised with them.

Clover seemed nice enough, but I couldn't risk the quest going south because I trusted someone I shouldn't have.

She shook her head, looking me over appraisingly. “You have a point, but I never would’ve guessed it by looking at you.” Then she frowned. “I never asked, but where were you going when that storm hit?”

It couldn't hurt to tell her that much, right? After all, anyone would look to other towns for help when theirs was attacked…

“The mayor sent me to ask for aid from nearby towns. Starkfell is the closest, so that's the first on my list.”

And after that, assuming I'm successful, I need to find a weapon sturdy enough to withstand Retribution's power…

That wasn't even getting into taking down the Mad King or his pet dragon.

Clover's expression shuttered. “I'm sorry, but you probably won't get much help from Starkfell.”

I waved it off, already knowing that. “Clyde mentioned they wouldn't be friendly. That's fine, I'll prove I'm trustworthy and work from there.”

She shook her head, that guarded mask not slipping. “You don't understand. Starkfell doesn't have resources to spare. A settlement of beastfolk was attacked by ogres, and all the refugees took shelter in Starkfell. Between the extra mouths to feed and the houses that still need to be built, there won’t be any supplies left.”

I hadn't considered that.

“Oh…Well, that does complicate things.” I grimaced, rubbing the back of my neck. “After we get the herb, I'll escort you back to Starkfell, then head out to another town to seek aid.”

It wasn't ideal, but Dawncrest would survive either way. Rushing was pointless and would get me killed.

Clover stared at me, her mask finally cracking to show traces of surprise. “Wait, you're not going to leave now?”

What kind of people did she deal with to make her think I'd abandon her so easily?

Crossing my arms, I shook my head and scowled. “I said I would help you get the herb, and I will. Dawncrest isn't in lethal danger, and by the sound of it, the people who need that herb are. I'm going to escort you back to Starkfell, restock my supplies, and then head to the next town. That's my plan, unless you have any objections?”

She blinked slowly, processing everything, before shaking her head. “No, that's…honestly more than I'd hoped for.”

Then she snorted, “Though I'd like to point out that I'm fully capable of making it safely to Starkfell without any help.”

I nodded. “I'm sure you are, but I'll have to go stock up after this anyway, so why not travel together?”

This time she agreed without hesitation, a small smile curling her lips. “Agreed. Now then, are you ready? The initial light will blind anything around us, so if there are monsters, you'll have a few seconds of advantage.”

I wordlessly drew my sword, muscles tensing in case I needed to lunge. Clover waited a beat before finally raising her mace, light already starting to build around her as she spoke.

“Guiding Light.”

A brilliant flash cut through the darkness, and I half-turned away to avoid being blinded. When the light dimmed, I scanned the room.

We'd been right to be wary.