The second-floor’s challenge comprised a well-lit room scattered with more desks and shorter bookshelves, illuminated by dozens of lanterns hooked upon the walls.

A lone table stood before them, populated by a further pair of lanterns, a small purple flame inside a bowl, a pair of candles to transfer the flame, and another scroll.

‘Explain something to me,’ Jack grunted, staggering to his feet on the tower’s second floor and offering Torick a hand. ‘You’ve got a lot of magical power on your side, but you’re not adept at using it. How exactly does that work?’

‘I just never gained proper use of it. I never had a formal education in magical studies.’

‘But you still persist with it, even though it’s not going your way? Maybe it’s a sensitive subject seeing as we’re dodging death across three floors right now, but facing death is often a fine time to ask these kinds of questions.’

‘Honestly?’ He replied. ‘It’s complicated.’

‘We’ve got time. I just don’t get you. You’re so committed to this, even though it evidently gives you a tough time. Why the obsession?’

Torick frowned at Jack, not out of irritation but genuine consideration. This was something he hadn’t told anybody in a long time.

‘Tell you what,’ Torick sighed. ‘If we make it out of here alive, I shall tell you the truth. Deal?’

‘Deal,’ Jack nodded, shaking hands with him. ‘Now, let’s figure out what’s trying to kill us this time.’

They approached the table and read the parchment as it unfolded before them.

Use the light of the lanterns to find the key to the stairs.

Advice: Do not step out of the light.

That was all.

‘Anything could happen the moment we light these lanterns,’ Jack said. ‘I’m not making any assumptions after what happened back there. The only thing I’m sure of is that we have to follow the instructions to progress.’

‘Indeed,’ Torick agreed. ‘I’m also more inclined to follow the scroll's advice seeing as it would have gone much better last time if we had…’

‘We got plenty of useful herbs and we got out alive,’ Jack spoke. ‘Water under the bridge.’

Jack read the instructions back several times. The room was already well-lit, so why the need to use the lanterns?

Perhaps it would be akin to a luminescent light, the kind used for forensics, or it would ignite a trail that would lead them to the key, wherever it resided within the room.

The advice wasn’t so clear. How could they step out of the light? The room was already well-lit.

Forging ahead was the only way to get answers.

Jack and Torick each took a candle, transferred the flame from the bowl and ignited their lanterns.

The moment the purple flames took, every other light in the room went out.

‘Well, that’s unsettling,’ Torick spoke dryly.

‘Eughhh…’

But the sudden darkness couldn’t hold a candle to the tidal wave of groans coming from around them.

The purple light given from their lanterns shed itself upon clawing hands that appeared from nowhere, as well as gaping, toothy mouths upon all sides. Wisps of translucent smoke waved upon the ground, leading up to misshapen bodies and reaching hands at the end of lanky, solid arms, connected to ghostly specters and rotten heads that floated on the air all around in their dozens, all eager to reach Jack and Torick but unable to move any farther into the glow of the lanterns.

Being: Grim Specters

Type: Undead

HP: 19/19

Nature: Aggressive

Consumes: Souls

Souls. That’s just great.

‘I don’t think that this is a fighting situation,’ Jack said uncomfortably. ‘I think this is a don’t let the lights go out situation.’

‘I miss the pixies,’ Torick muttered dryly.

‘We stay together and we find the key,’ Jack replied. 'That's all we can do.'

‘Oh, believe me, I’m not leaving your side for any reason.’

‘Where do we even start?’

Jack raised his lantern, ignoring the creeping hands of the specters as he searched the cluttered room.

Bookshelves everywhere...

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

This place belonged to a warlock or a mage, and I can only guess that his spirit is waiting upstairs on the final floor.

The lanterns’ light turned everything purple – all except for a cubed box measuring around a foot on each side, residing atop a nearby table.

‘The one outlier,’ Jack whispered, crossing to it with Torick close by as they ignored the clamoring hands of the specters scrambling away with fear. ‘Any idea what’s inside this thing before I open it?’

‘I’m going to go out on a limb and say the key out of this bloody place.’

‘That seems a little too easy,’ Jack said, flipping the lid and looking inside. The base went much deeper than it should have, warping reality out of shape. ‘And I have to reach inside…’

‘Hello,’ Torick said dryly. ‘Umm… How are you?’

Jack glanced over to see Torick speaking to a nearby specter. He nudged the overeager specter away with the toe of his boot before slowly reaching into the box.

‘How are you so calm?’ Torick asked. ‘I mean I was being sarcastic just then, but you seem genuinely unbothered by all of this.’

‘Why aren’t you calm?’ Jack immediately responded. ‘I thought these things existed in your world.’

‘They do, but I have no means to do away with them without the use of my magic. You are remarkably calm for somebody with no experience dealing with the undead.’

‘It isn’t just words that I’m half-decently well-versed in,’ Jack grunted, fumbling around inside the box. ‘It’s knowing when to panic, and when not to panic.’

‘And this isn’t a time to panic? In my mind it qualifies.’

‘Panicking in a dangerous situation never gets you anywhere,’ Jack replied. ‘If I’d panicked back in the forest when dealing with that kobold, I wouldn’t have gotten that arrow drawn in time, and if I hadn’t gotten the arrow drawn in time, I would still be lying in the forest with an axe embedded in my skull right now. You panic, you die. I like being alive…- Ow, FUCK!’

Something excruciatingly sharp suddenly clamped down around Jack’s hand as he fumbled for whatever he was looking for. He dragged his hand from the box and found a small beaver-like creature clinging to his hand, jagged teeth digging deeper by the second into his flesh.

Being: Ogorump

Type: Vermin

HP: 9/9

Nature: Aggressive

Consumes: Anything

‘Glass cannon,’ Jack muttered to himself, fishing out his dagger and jamming the blade through the ogorump’s brain, being careful to dodge his own fingers within its gigantic mouth.

The ogorump quickly dropped dead amid flashing HP alerts. Jack wedged his blade between the vermin’s jaws and pried its mouth open, removing its jagged teeth from his hand with it.

‘God, that hurts…’

‘I’ll bet,’ Torick chuckled. Jack gave him an unimpressed look. ‘Hey, you were the one who wanted to come with me on this quest.’

‘True, but can you at least acknowledge that you would be dead without my help so far?’

‘I’ll admit no such thing.’

‘God, I hate you…’

Jack turned his head, took a mouthful of his shirt between his teeth - just another a war mark that his unfit clothes were taking – and poured water over the wound from his canteen.

The pain was excruciating, but he held on.

‘What the hell was the point in that?’ Jack groaned, shaking his hand out and flexing it as he dealt with the exposed wounds.

‘Not just weakening you,’ Torick replied, using his own twin blades to open the dead ogorump’s mouth once more. ‘There’s something inside this little fiend's mouth.’

Torick pried out the smallest vial Jack had ever seen. It contained barely a few drops of a swirling, glittering green liquid stoppered by a tiny cork with a tag tied around its lip.

Douse me upon flame, it read.

Torick did just that upon his lantern’s flame, turning it a shade of green. The moment the color turned, the specters moved excitedly into its light, unafraid with mad, insane eyes.

‘WOAH!’

Torick literally leaped onto Jack, clambering up his back and perching uneasily upon his shoulder.

The only thing now holding back the droves of grim specters was the purple light of Jack's lone lantern.

‘Looks like two people was a finer idea,’ the gnome commented.

‘Let’s figure out where it leads,’ Jack replied. ‘I’m bleeding from several places and a bunch of undead want to eat me alive, so I’d prefer to get this done fast.’

They scoured the room for anything that showed up differently in the green light.

‘Torick, this lantern is going out,’ Jack spoke, ‘We need to move faster.’

‘I’m searching, Jack,’ the gnome replied frantically. ‘How long?’

‘Less than a minute by my count. If I’m being honest with you, eaten alive by undead is not the way I wanted to go out.’

‘Finally we can agree on something… There!’

The green light shone strangely upon a collection of a dozen ornaments on a nearby table that the pair sprinted over to. The grim specters followed closely behind.

‘Which one is it?’ Jack asked.

‘Perhaps we must arrange them in a particular order so that the key out of this place makes itself known?’ Torick spoke. ‘Wait, these are all containers!

Jack briefly considered tapping each container and reading the contents, but that would take way too long.

He fished out his water canteen once more, flipped every ornament and smashed the canteen's base against every one of them.

Just as Torick was about to protest, the key leaped out from an opaque water jug and spun around on the air. Jack scrambled for it and raced to the door with Torick as the purple flames fed on the last of the fuel.

Jack calmed himself, unlocked the door and pushed it open just as the flames went out. The grim specters surged towards them through the darkness, but the door slammed shut of its own volition before he could even get his hands on it.

‘Third floor,’ Jack said in the dim firelight that flickered from torches upon the walls. ‘All we’ve got to deal with now is the final challenge. Get that done and we’re home free.’

‘Easier said than done,’ Torick muttered, wiping ectoplasm from his shoulder. ‘Bloody undead.’

‘What the hell is with this place?’ Jack panted. ‘Who even designs a dungeon like this?’

‘Most dungeons are not designed,’ Torick breathed, getting to his feet and stretching out his back. ‘Unbound magic trapped in a single location swarms around valuables, especially magic of a dark nature. It is instinctively greedy. It does all it can with the magic it has available to hide its treasure… Which isn’t very much in this tower, all things considered, hence how easy the challenges are.'

‘This is easy?’

‘Oh, indeed, but more difficult dungeons we can worry about another time. This dungeon must have been formed after the tower’s owner lost control of their magic, whoever they were. Fortunately for us, it appears that dungeon doctrine is universal.’

‘Dungeon doctrine?’

Dungeons must obey certain rules, namely adhering to difficulty levels.'

‘Right,’ Jack nodded. ‘Pixies on the first floor, specters on the second… I’ll be honest, I’m skeptical about what awaits us.’

‘So you should be.’

Torick kept his daggers at the ready while Jack kept an arrow drawn as they rounded the wide, spiralling steps to the tower’s third floor.

A heavy pair of wooden double-doors barred their way, the surface marred by what appeared to be rotting purple vines.

Torick and Jack exchanged a look before the gnome slice away at the vines covering the handle. They pushed inside, ready to face the tower's final challenge.