Cetanthro moved about in the distance, walking between buildings and patrolling the area around their small city underneath the wreck. Even from far away, Owin could see a few of the hulking itajara he had fought last time he had passed through. Far above the wreck were longer, more monstrous looking fish. It was impossible to tell if they were intelligent mobs or just creatures swimming around.

“Our plan is to climb up the shipwreck, pass over the city, and head toward the exit. If we can find the secret, then we will explore it, but I don’t know where it would be on this floor,” Owin said.

The Withered Shade nodded slowly. “I suppose that seems reasonable. Is it?”

“Yes?” Owin pointed to the right side. “I think that’s where Ernie had wanted to climb up, so we could try over there.”

“Yes, of course.” The Shade crouched and put his bony elbow on Owin’s shoulder. “Who is Ernie?”

“A friend.”

“Hm. And a friend is . . .”

“Okay.” Owin shrugged his elbow off. “Do you have anything helpful to add?”

“Rarely.”

Owin grunted.

“Okay, yes, fine.” The skeleton jumped back to his feet. “I know nothing about this floor, apart from the obvious that we can all see with our eyes. Or, in my case, lack of eyes. Ernie, your friend, sounds like he knows the dungeon. Yes?”

“He has been through the first floors a few times.”

“Then I see no reason to not follow his guidance. Do we all agree to that or am I about to hear some complaints from the angry looking man over there?”

Myrsvai sighed. “You don’t know our names, do you?”

The Shade waved his finger in the air before pointing it dramatically. “That’s Suta, you’re a magus without a name, and that is my master, the great, the famous, the sometimes a little hostile, Owin.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I get a message saying Master Owin is summoning me. Most people have a surname of some sort, you know. Only the truly famous can go by a single name. Are you that famous?” The skeleton raised a non-existent eyebrow again.

“He might actually be,” Myrsvai said. “What interests me is that you know enough of the classes to identify that I’m a magus, but you don’t know what you are.”

“I never know what I am. I don’t even know my own name. It’s something like, uh . . . something around . . . De . . . Du . . .” The skeleton shrugged. “Not a single full memory of a name in there.”

“But you know you had a name?” Myrsvai asked.

“No. It only tastes like there was once a name there.”

“You can taste names?” Owin asked.

“What? No.” The Shade pointed at Owin. “This guy thinks names have flavors.”

Just as Owin was about to say something back, the skeleton loudly cleared his throat, which didn’t seem like it should be possible.

“Instead of all this nonsense, shouldn’t we, perhaps, climb the shipwreck?”

“You are the source of the nonsense,” Myrsvai said. “I hate to agree with the Shade, but we shouldn’t linger any longer. Are you ready, Owin?”

Owin nodded and set off. Suta walked right beside him, frequently casting glances over his shoulder. Myrsvai and the Withered Shade immediately fell into conversation about something obscure. Owin only picked up bits of the conversation, hearing something about the gods and the dungeons.

They passed underneath the shipwreck, following the curving frame to an area that held beams close enough to use as a makeshift, oversized ladder.

“The Withered Shade isn’t going to hurt Myrsvai,” Owin said after a few minutes.

Suta looked back and forth a couple of times. “Friend?”

“I don’t know if I would call him a friend yet.”

Suta stopped moving until Myrsvai and the Shade caught up. He fell right into their pace, walking directly between the two. That left Owin walking ahead on his own. He could slow down and try to join their conversation, but what would he add? He knew almost nothing about the gods and the dungeons, apart from the scattered bits of information he had gathered during his journeys through the Great Forest and the Ocean.

“Owin,” Myrsvai said loud enough to break him from his thoughts. “How many Shard Heroes have you met?”

Owin turned around and continued walking backward. He cycled through everybody he had met. At least everybody he could remember. There were a lot of heroes, but most didn’t have shards. “Taralim, Chorsay, Brimras, Veph.” Owin counted the names on his fingers, trying to think of any other heroes who had shards. “I guess four.”

“That is already more than most people would meet in a lifetime,” the Shade said.

Owin walked backward directly into a wooden beam. He turned around, grabbed the frame, and flung himself up. His agility and control still somehow surprised him. The huge jump in dexterity had really changed everything. Since entering the dungeon again, he had done little fighting, apart from Temikiel and his guards. Hopefully he would find a good time to fight something that would test his new attributes.

Climbing the shipwreck was a slow endeavor. Instead of climbing straight up from the spot Owin had found, they had to climb a few beams, then carefully maneuver to the side where more beams were exposed. Parts of the hull had remained, making it into a sort of maze. Multiple routes looked like they would lead to the top, so Owin tried not to spend too much time thinking about which way he was going.

Myrsvai managed the climb with little difficulty. With each new beam, he jumped high enough to grab the wood with his one arm before swinging his metal leg up, then he hauled himself on top.

Suta jumped from one to the next in a practiced fashion. Owin had never seen the familiar practice with any agility training, yet Suta made traversing the shipwreck look like the easiest thing he had done all day.

The Withered Shade struggled tremendously. He was barely able to jump at all and had to use other beams to crawl part way up before reaching the next level.

After climbing up half of the shipwreck, Owin cast the spell to unsummon the skeleton right as the Withered Shade jumped for a beam that he was absolutely going to miss. Instead of letting him fall all the way to the surface, or suffer from watching him climb, Owin could just resummon him once they reached the top.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Owin!” Myrsvai was in the middle of mounting a beam, unable to do anything other than shout.

Owin whipped his head back and forth, looking for a threat.

“Up!” Suta, who was a beam below waiting for Myrsvai, shouted and pointed.

Before Owin could look above, the mob hit him in the top of the head. He was smashed into the beam, but stayed on top. Teeth latched on, digging into his skull. Owin pulled the lich bone knife from his belt and slashed overhead, ripping it through something. The teeth loosened, but whatever it was hadn’t died.

His free hand grabbed onto scaly skin and swung it down, smashing a long, thin fish against the beam. Bones broke as it struck, spilling brains through the gash across its face.

“What was it?” Owin asked.

“I’ve never seen one before,” Myrsvai said. He reached Owin’s level and pressed his fingers against Owin’s forehead. “The teeth dug deep. How does it feel?”

“Fine. It only took a few points of health.”

“There is more than your health bar to consider. Is there pain?”

“I guess.” Pain wasn’t something Owin spent a lot of time thinking about. He had his stomach ripped open by a wight, he had been inside an ocular guard who assaulted him with fiery energy, and so many more things that had caused his whole body to feel pain. “I’m fine.”

Myrsvai pressed his palm over the bleeding cuts on Owin’s forehead. Suta did the same on the back.

“I don’t like this,” Owin said.

Myrsvai shushed him as they both pushed gently on his head.

Owin waited impatiently for a minute before ducking. “I think that’s enough.”

“Your face is still bleeding, but it has slowed. There is no harm in stopping when injured, Owin. We stopped earlier to allow me time to heal and fix my leg.”

“That was different.”

“Was it?”

“No,” Suta said.

“It was only a bite. I’m fine.”

Myrsvai didn’t respond, only nodding toward the next beam up. Owin waited for the magus to jump up and start his climb. Meanwhile, Suta stared at Owin.

“What do you want?”

“Friend.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“No hurting.”

“What?”

Suta poked Owin in the chest. “Stop hurting.”

“How do I do that? I still have to fight.”

“Dodge.”

Owin sighed. “I’m not always good at that.”

“Block?”

“Or that,” Owin said quietly.

Suta jumped to the next beam, now clear of Myrsvai. “Practice.”

“Fine.” Owin followed after, giving Suta time to move aside between each jump.

Three more fish attacked during the climb, swimming through the water with impressive speed. Myrsvai shot one before it reached them with Abyssal Blast, easily destroying its entire head in a single attack.

Ocean Mob

Pipefish

Level 18

The other two went for Owin, but with notice, he was able to step aside and gut them with the lich bone knife. A pipefish looked a lot like the snakes Owin had seen, though its long snout and teeth were worse. A few more pipefish swam high above, closer to the water’s surface.

“I wonder how they would taste,” Myrsvai said as they reached the top of the shipwreck, which Owin realized was technically the bottom of the ship.

“People eat mobs too?” he asked.

Myrsvai walked closer to the center of the wreck and sat. “No, Owin. People actually eat fish, and the pipefish mob is just a fish from what I can tell.”

“Oh. What does fish taste like?”

“That is, perhaps, the most difficult question you have asked.”

Summon the Withered Shade

The skeleton formed and immediately yawned. “What an exhausting climb.”

“You were about to fall all the way down.”

“And? Did you consider that maybe I enjoy a good fall? A little thrill in this otherwise stale life?”

“How can your life be stale? You hardly know what’s happening,” Myrsvai said.

The skeleton shrugged. “Everything goes stale when it has sat out too long.”

“And yet, you’re with a unique person. A first. Have you yet realized that Owin isn’t human?”

The Shade turned its eyeless gaze to Owin. “Not a child, as you have continuously stated. So then, you must be . . . a goblin.”

“You already knew?” Owin asked.

“You have green skin and colorful hair. The options are goblin or hobgoblin, and you are too short and the wrong color to be a hobgoblin. How many options does that leave me?”

“One,” Suta said.

“Thank you! Exactly. See? Easy to deduce.”

“You kept calling me a child.”

“What else did you expect me to call you? Master?”

“Owin.”

The skeleton squatted down until he was level with everyone else. “I could be convinced to do that.”

Suta grabbed the skeleton’s arm and squeezed. “Weak.”

“I don’t believe that’s necessary.”

“No muscle,” Suta said.

The Shade gestured from head to toe. “There’s no skin either. Would you like to point that out to the audience?”

“Audience?” Myrsvai asked.

“How else would you refer to yourself and Owin. Companions? Comrades? Confidants? Compatriots? Cronies?”

“Friends,” Owin said confidently.

“I recall the insect insisting that I wasn’t a friend.” The Shade turned to Suta with a raised brow. “Is that still the case?”

“No.” Suta gently patted the skeleton’s arm. “Almost friend.”

“Almost would imply that I’m still not a friend.”

Suta nodded.

“Well, alright. I would say thank you, but I don’t believe there has been anything beneficial through this exchange. Perhaps next time we can plan ahead a little more and end with a heart warming embrace.”

“You weren’t strong enough to climb up here,” Owin said. “How are you going to fight?”

“Fight? Me? Why?”

“What else would I summon you for?”

“Conversation?”

Myrsvai unwrapped and ate something from his bag. He watched with amusement as Owin could only glare back at the Withered Shade.

“This conversation is sorely lacking in words.”

“I don’t know what to say anymore.” Owin sighed. “You talk more than anyone else I know.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“No.”

“It is if I take it as one. Thank you.” The Shade bowed. “My condolences.” He stood upright. “That was the wrong word. Gratitude would have been a better fit.”

Myrsvai nodded as he ate.

“As soon as Myrsvai is ready, we’re walking to the other side of the ship.”

“Luckily for you, I don’t tire. I do dream of food though. Or even dreaming. Imagine dreaming of dreaming. Oh, sleep. What a thing to miss. I used to drink all night, singing by a hearth.”

“I thought you didn’t have memories of your life,” Myrsvai said around a bite of food.

“Fragments appear from time to time. It makes it feel as though there are real memories within reach, but they fade or twist before I can ever make any details out from the blurry mess.” The skeleton mimicked strumming an instrument. “A lute is constantly on my mind. Imagine the noises I could make.”

“It’s called music,” Myrsvai said.

“I wouldn’t want to call it that until I found out whether or not I could truly play. It may only be noises I can make. Music would be the true goal, but with these fingers? It’s impossible to say what might happen. There are no muscles or tendons to give me the precision for an instrument. And what of the voice? Do you think I could sing without vocal chords?”

“You’re talking just fine.” Myrsvai swallowed his last bite, stood, and took his staff from his back. “How would singing differ?”

“Now that is a question. I will have to ruminate. The answer can cook inside my brain. My brain that doesn’t exist. Maybe instead the question will simply bounce around my skull, forever lost and without a companion answer.”

“We’re leaving,” Owin said. “Follow me.” He set off, trying to gain some ground on the skeleton. Within a few steps, the skeleton was walking beside him, matching his pace.

“You don't have to be so close,” Owin said.

“Got it.” The skeleton stepped even closer.

Owin sighed.