– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 214, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 20 –
“Hah…”
The family was going towards the dungeon entrance to meet up with the others.
“Hmph…”
“You know, Florine,” started Isille with a decidedly unamused tone. “My child, my beloved daughter, apple of my eye, if you have something to say, then why don’t you say it? If you hoped we can interpret these grunts and noises, you are bound to be disappointed.”
“Hmph.” Florine looked just as unamused as Isille sounded. “Did we really have to bring the whole family? What kind of class is this supposed to be? We look—” She gestured wildly. “This is ridiculous!”
Jorg leaned closer to Terry. “We may want to hang back a bit. Lori took the bait. Rookie move. No idea what’s with her today.”
Most of the time, it was Bjorln who took responsibility for de-escalating these family standoffs. This morning, however, the dwarf was in no mood to join the conversation – or any conversation, for that matter. Never had Terry seen his accepted father that quiet and withdrawn.
“Oh my daughter, fruit of my labor, eternal sunshine of my life, is that what this is about?” wondered Isille insincerely. “I would have never guessed. We told you we will not prevent you from acting childish—”
“I am not a child,” hissed Florine through her teeth.
“My bad,” exclaimed Isille drily. “One gets so confused with age, you know.” She took a deep breath to calm her own flaring temper. “You have a right to make your choice, but so do we. You better make your peace with us being here, Whaka Florine.”
“Hmph.” Florine gritted her teeth. “Fine, but why is even Aunt Brynn coming? She has never set a foot into a dungeon in her entire life!”
“Heh.” Brynn gave no further comment. At other times, she might have found some amusement in Lori getting so bent out of shape over something so trivial. If their destination had been different, Brynn would not take part in a matter that evoked such hard feelings. Normally, she felt a particular fondness for the dwarven girl. Today, however, Brynn was focused on Samuel.
“It was I who invited Whaka Brynn,” interjected Samuel icily. He spoke without even facing Florine. “She may have never set foot into a dungeon, but if the worst happens, she is still your best chance at keeping your lives.”
“That doesn’t even make any sense!” exclaimed Florine.
Isille snorted in derision. “Cherished offspring, beloved daughter, it is moments like these that can have me so confused about your self-evident mature sense of wisdom.”
Florine drew in a sharp breath of air while her eyes were glaring daggers at her mother.
Isille ignored her daughter’s glowering. “If we were to do a ranking of people in Arcana not to have as an enemy, then the list would naturally start with the magic sovereigns, second the dimensional mages, and right after that, your seemingly harmless Auntie Brynn.”
Terry and Jorg both turned to face their aunt. Brynn caught their eyes and winked at them.
“All of you have already experienced some of her works in the training grounds,” reminded Isille. “Whaka Brynn supplied almost half of the Guardians’ training golems and those that you have seen are only the standardized ones. You have never gotten the chance to see one of her custom designs yet.” She glanced at Brynn. “Think about it. All the countless storage items Brynn is carrying around. Take a wild guess what they might contain.” She looked inquisitively at her friend. “Honestly, I am willing to bet Whaka Brynn is carrying enough constructs on her body to conquer a small kingdom.”
Brynn smiled silently in response.
“And you do not believe this is a bit too much?” snarled Florine. “Ridiculous? Completely exaggerated?”
“No,” interjected Samuel firmly. “As a matter of fact, I do not.” His fists were clenched. “And today, I am acting as the instructor, so…”
“Make your peace with it, daughter.” Isille finished the sentence. She shook her head and leaned closer to Brynn. “You know, Sigille once warned me that daughters tend to take after their mothers. I was clinging to the hope that this would not extend beyond my stubby arms.”
“Hmph,” grunted Florine.
Isille sighed. “Oh, well…”
After that, the group walked on in silence. They were getting close to their destination and Isille drew a line at having family squabbles out in public. She wanted for her children to grow up. Sometimes, she was losing her patience, but even if she thought her daughter’s actions to be foolish, she did not want to make a fool out of her in front of her child’s companions.
“Greetings, Terry!” Calam and Siling were already waiting at the dungeon entrance. There were two other people that introduced themselves to the round: Miguel – a dwarven companion of Jorg, and Elena – a human companion of Lori.
“Terry, have you heard about Nassim?” asked Calam.
Terry furrowed his brow. “Heard what?”
“Apparently, Nassim had another one of his outbursts when he visited the market,” explained Calam. “An instructor from the Guardians was present and immediately reprimanded him.”
Terry glanced at Jorg and Lori. He tried very hard not to look at Isille.
“Afterwards, they hauled him off to Guardian management,” continued Calam. “They froze his contribution points and threatened to cut him off from Guardian services altogether. If he wants to continue as a Guardian, he has to take some theoretical classes and he will have his mana sealed for a time while doing special assignments. As far as I have heard, he has to first work at the recovery center for those that have lost access to their mana.”
“Can’t hurt,” commented Siling, and Terry nodded in agreement.
By now, the dwarf Gellath – Jorg’s second companion – had joined up with them. Shortly thereafter, the official Guardian overseer for the class arrived as well.
“Morning everyone, my name is Verecund and today I will accompany the class.” He nodded at the two adult dwarves. “Greetings Isille. Greetings Bjorln.” He looked over the rest of the group. “You must be Brynn. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. It is nice to finally have a face to go with the constructs that whoop my ass in training.”
Brynn chuckled. “The pleasure is mine. I hope that my works have not roughed you up too much.”
“Nothing that cannot be healed or reattached,” said Verecund. “They certainly can be vicious, but they help me grow and I appreciate it. Ah!” He started to grin from ear to ear. “You must be Samuel. It is an honor to meet you. I must have read your first dungeon thesis collection, and the referenced reports at least a dozen times.”
“You are too kind.” Samuel’s face appeared calm, but his voice was quivering faintly.
“It seems you have a fan, my life.” Brynn smiled warmly at Samuel.
“Oh, not just one,” interjected Verecund. “Samuel’s writings on dungeons are mandatory reading in the dungeon squad. For good reason, too. There were quite a few instructors trying to persuade me to switch classes with them. Even one of the retired ones tried to bribe me with cookies. When I declined, she asked me to at least get you to sign a copy of The Realm’s First Line of Defense…”
Verecund paused tentatively in order to gauge Samuel’s reaction. “Truth be told, I also packed my copy of The Immune System Hypothesis.” He was scratching his head in embarrassment.
Samuel gave a slight smile and nodded. “Happy to.”
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During the conversational silences, Samuel stole a few glances at the dungeon entrance. With every glance, the color further fled from his face. Subconsciously, Samuel touched the burn scars on his arm. A few drops of sweat had already appeared on his brow.
Unexpectedly, Samuel felt something on his forearm. Bjorln had walked up to his side. A traditional ceremony among whaka was the forearm bump before a tough battle – hands clenched into a fist and forearms touching bracer against bracer – until the whaka responsible for the first move was ready.
A moment later, Samuel also felt a hand on his shoulder. Brynn looked at him with her usual warm smile.
“It’s alright,” muttered Samuel. He broke off the forearm ceremony. “Thank you.” Samuel touched Brynn’s hand with his own and turned away from the dungeon entrance.
“No, Whaka, thank you.” Bjorln spoke his first words of the day. “Nama.”
“It looks as if we are complete now,” exclaimed Verecund. Alrik – the dwarven mage from Lori’s group was walking towards them.
“Wow, quite the entourage for an introduction class,” remarked Alrik, and Florine blushed profusely.
“Yes, and we should all feel lucky for it,” said Verecund with a grin. “I certainly do. Anyway, now that we are complete, allow me to introduce myself again. My name is Verecund and normally I act as an instructor for the dungeon work classes, but…” He gestured. “Today we have been blessed with a guest lecturer that makes for a far more qualified instructor. Therefore, I will only oversee the class.” He nodded at the scarred mage. “Instructor Samuel, the floor is yours.”
Verecund gave one more nod and then stepped aside.
“Let’s get this over with,” murmured Samuel. “First of all, I ask you to speak up if anything remains unclear. At the Academy, they pick staff primarily for their research. Didactic ability is only secondary, but every teacher at the Academy is told to attend a basic pedagogy and didactics training. Among the many lessons of that training are two that I can wholeheartedly attest to: cycle on the important subjects and start with an empowerment promise.
“So here is my promise to you: At the end of today, you will know something about dungeons that you did not know before and some of those things can save your lives. If I have done my job right, then above all you will know why you should stay away from dungeons.”
Alrik grimaced as if he had discovered there would be flies for dinner.
“Here is the start of our cycle for today.” Samuel spoke with emphasis: “Dungeon work will inevitably get you killed.”
“Couldn’t the same be said for other mission work?” interjected Elena. “Corrupted hunts?”
“Not really, no,” denied Samuel. “But keep that question in mind for later. We will revisit the difference. For now, follow.”
Samuel turned towards the dungeon. One deep and quivering breath later, he stepped through the entrance. An involuntary shiver ran down his spine as soon as he felt the long forgotten and still all too familiar feeling of mana suppression.
Samuel and Bjorln stepped the furthest into the first room. Next were those of the younger generation, then Brynn and Isille. Verecund was the last to enter.
As soon as Terry passed the entrance threshold, he felt an uncomfortable lack of… something. It felt wrong somehow. Almost as if the air had become thin and as if insects were crawling around on his skin.
“That oppressing sensation that you are experiencing is the dungeon’s mana suppression,” explained Samuel. “It is comparable to the sensation of facing an anti-magic spell or the feeling of being hit by a mana cultivator’s disruption discharge—” Something moved in the room's corner and he winced. He had to remind himself to stay calm. Remind himself that the fear he felt was excessive. Remind himself that experiencing a feeling differed from granting the feeling control over him. Not every feeling deserves a reaction.
“…who can explain how a disruption discharge works?” Samuel addressed the aspiring Guardians. He reasoned that questions helped with keeping an audience engaged, but he knew that this question was merely an excuse to buy himself some time.
“You push your own naturalized mana onto the target and crowd out other mana so that they cannot harvest it,” replied Jorg.
“Correct,” confirmed Samuel. “The mana that surrounds you normally is what we call free. It is usable, absorbable, harvestable. Naturalized mana has been adjusted to a specific person. It cannot be easily used by others. It would require time, special items, specific converter spells, or exquisitely high mana control. That is why your mana absorption and regeneration rate are lower in a dungeon. Yes?”
“Does Share Mana belong to these converter spells?” inquired Siling.
“Yes, it does. That spell changes the mana under your control to imitate the mana of another. The better the imitation, the easier it is for the beneficiary to absorb it.” Despite his surroundings, Samuel had to smile at the question. He was happy when a student displayed an ability to apply new knowledge. It almost made him forget they were in a dungeon.
Almost.
“The fundamental lesson here is that the mana in a dungeon already has an owner – the dungeon itself,” explained Samuel. “A dungeon is a living organism, and it uses mana, just like you do.”
“Wait, so we are inside another being right now?” Terry found the idea disturbing.
“Yes… and no.” Samuel frowned slightly. “That is actually a matter of theoretical debate – a debate I frankly consider to be quite pointless. People are quibbling over terms, nothing more. Every dungeon has a core. We are now inside the core’s sphere of influence. I leave it up to you if you consider that to qualify as being ‘inside’ the organism.”
Samuel took a deep breath and then continued: “The degree of mana suppression varies by dungeon. The older and stronger the dungeon, the more intense that suffocating feeling will become. Currently, we are in the entrance room. In this room, the mana suppression is the only thing you will have to face. However, this sensation should serve as a reminder that you are inside the dungeon’s control.
“There is one more proof for that.” Samuel looked at a corner of the room. Without moving, he cast a spell, and a rat levitated from the corner towards him.
“In the literature, this rat would be grouped among the dungeon seekers. Dungeon seekers are creatures from outside the dungeon that have chosen the dungeon as their habitat but have not gone through dungeon-induced mutation.
“The most common dungeon seekers are, in fact, a group of aspect beings – the fairies. They seem to be both attracted to dungeons and resistant to dungeon mutation, leaving them in the top position. Generally, they avoid beings like us. It is rare to encounter them in a dungeon – no matter how common they may be.”
Samuel gestured at the folks present. “Technically, everyone of us would now be classified as a dungeon seeker as well. You can distinguish a dungeon seeker from dungeon natives and dungeon assimilated by looking for a mana core with your mana sense. A seeker does not have one.” He turned his gaze back to the levitating rat. “Now, for the promised proof…”
Terry saw a thin ice needle pierce the rat’s head.
Contrary to their expectations, nothing happened. There was nothing but silence.
“Well, I’m convinced,” sneered Alrik with sarcasm. The exclamation was followed by a short, high-pitched giggle from Florine.
Jorg raised an eyebrow and looked at his sister with incredulity. That was an odd noise to come out of her. It was not like any of her usual hearty laughs or unrestrained giggles.
Brynn had to restrain herself from guffawing at Isille, who visibly cringed.
Verecund shot Alrik a glare, but Samuel did not show any reaction. He simply waited.
Suddenly, the rat was gone. From one moment to the next, the rat had vanished.
Samuel pointedly stated: “After the dungeon has led you to your inevitable deaths, this is what awaits you.”
“What about equipment?” asked Elena.
“Depends, but it is not clear on what,” said Samuel. “The best predictive indicator is surprisingly the equipment’s value. The higher the value, the lower the chance that it will remain. However, let me emphasize that even this ‘best’ indicator only yields predictions slightly better than chance. No proper discernible pattern has been identified yet. If you find equipment in a dungeon, then it is more likely to have been placed there by the dungeon than to have been left there by a deceased seeker.”
Samuel averted his eyes from Elena after replying and looked around the entrance room. “After a being dies in a dungeon, its soul holds on for a brief time. As soon as the soul has dissipated into mana, the dungeon will claim its spoils.”
Samuel caught the gazes of his students. “The main takeaway here is, when you have met your inevitable demise in the dungeon, then the dungeon will leave nothing behind. No one will find you because there will be nothing left to find.”
Samuel took a deep breath. “The first advice I will give you is to never enter a dungeon. The second advice I will give you is to never enter a dungeon without setting up at least one Mark-and-Recall spell. If you cannot cast it yourselves, get an imprinted scroll. They may be expensive, but I would propose to you that your lives are worth more than mana coins.” He shrugged slightly. “And even an average dungeon run will pay for a scroll.”
“Today is on me.” Samuel handed out scrolls to everyone – including the older generation. “These scrolls rely on the dungeon-naturalized mana as a dimensional anchor. Therefore, they only work inside the dungeon. There are two lines on the scroll. They form a pattern resembling a ‘T’ with the top of the letter being placed in the middle of the paper. Rip the one that halves the paper, the top of the ‘T.’”
Everyone did as instructed. Terry could see mana activating and somehow blending in with the surroundings.
“Good,” said Samuel. “All Mark spells were successful.”
“How would we know?” inquired Miguel.
“A scroll’s spell failure causes the scroll to crumble into dust,” replied Siling.
“Ripping the second line – the one that halves the remaining half – will transport you back here,” explained Samuel. “There are conditions for this to work. One of which we will leave for later. The two others are that Recall only works from inside the same dungeon, and that there is a time limit in which a Recall spell can be activated.”
“Follow,” instructed Samuel and descended to the next room. He waited there until everyone had entered. “Same as the entrance room. The subsequent two rooms in a dungeon are practically always the same. These rooms act as mana reservoir dams. The passage between them opens as soon as the concentration of dungeon-naturalized mana drops below a certain threshold. As we are now, it would take around an hour of simply remaining in this place before the passage would open.”
Samuel’s eyes flared up with the glow of mana use. Afterwards, the path was clear. “The process can be intentionally sped up by harvesting and taking control of the dungeon’s mana. Hereafter comes what people generally think of when hearing about dungeons.”
***