Abby paced next to the window in the dark. She wasn’t able to sleep. Owyn wasn’t much better, he laid on his bed with one foot off the edge, bouncing on the floor. Neither had agreed to stay up and talk about it, so they just didn’t. For the longest time, each of them just stewed in silence, contemplating about what should happen next.
“That’s twice now this week we didn’t delve.” Owyn mentioned.
“The dungeons are going to grow.” Abby agreed.
“We’re not making any more money just dealing with this one dungeon. Either we need to deal with it, or ignore it.”
“And what, hope it goes away?” Abby scoffed. “This isn’t like that time you twisted your ankle. We can’t just ignore it.”
“Well what do you want us to do Abby!” Owyn sat up on his bed. “You saw that, the dungeon was able to conquer another dungeon! And I say ‘another’ very intentionally, since it clearly conquered a second one while we were trying to kill it! Its monsters are going to evolve again, and everything is going to cascade from there! Conquer more dungeons, evolve more of its thralls, and repeat!”
“We’ve had dungeons grow out of control before. The church and the King have taken care of all of them.”
“The King always waits until it's already out of hand.” Owyn muttered into his hand. “Do you think the Baroness has already contacted the church?”
“Maybe.” She didn’t know though. “We should ask her tomorrow, just in case.”
Owyn sighed and collapsed back on his bed. “What I wouldn’t give to have witnessed their evolution in person.”
“You’re talking about its monsters now?”
Owyn cupped his hand. “The little fish things were so tiny! I want one!”
“What about the mimic crabs?”
“You know? Never cared for crabs. Too many legs.”
“Oh, so it’s the legs that do it for you.” Abby said with a smirk. She lifted her own, muscular leg up on her bed, exaggeratingly presenting it to Owyn. “Sure is a shame your own legs aren’t thicker than twigs.”
Owyn glared at her, but conceded the point. “You know, here’s something I never considered before. What would happen if a human ate a dungeon core? An enthralled one obviously, since-”
“Faux!” Abby sputtered, looking out the window. She grabbed her sword hanging off the bedpost and sprinted for the door.
“I was going to say ‘since regular humans just die if they do,’ but what…” He got to his feet and looked out the window too.
Faux’s corpse shambled through the center of the street without a care in the world.
Owyn jolted into action, scrambling for his boots as he ran out the door after Abby. All the noise they caused must have woken the Lark’s, because the husband and wife duo were sticking their heads out of the window, watching as Abby ran into the night.
“What’s going-”
“Dungeon break!” Owyn interrupted the couple. “Back inside! We’ll deal with it!”
He bolted out the door, chasing after Abby. Abby already stood next to Faux, sword in one hand and scabbard in the other. Owyn caught up quickly, since Faux wasn’t in a hurry. In fact, he seemed to be writing something when Owyn got to Abby’s side.
Faux presented his writing to them.
“Letter for the Baroness, from Lucid.”
“... a letter?” Owyn asked, dubiously.
Faux fished said letter out of a bloody pocket in his shirt. His body had long since ran dry of blood from his numerous wounds, but that didn’t make accepting the bloodless letter any less unsettling.
Owyn read the letter aloud for Abby’s sake while she escorted them.
“Hello. My name is Lucid, and I am the dungeon you are trying to kill. While I understand your actions, I would still appreciate it if we could be friends.”
Faux stopped Owyn, shaking his head. He made rising gestures, and when that didn’t get across, he tried lifting the corners of his mouth with his fingers. The false smile sent chills down Owyn’s spine.
“You want me to read this in a happy tone?”
Faux nodded.
“No.” Owyn kept reading, faster now. Just to get it over with.
“My dungeon monsters are growing by the day, but unfortunately, we ran out of food earlier today. I could continue to hunt the creatures dwelling within these caves, however that would eventually become unsustainable. I would very much like the opportunity to trade with your community until such a time that I become self-sufficient. In exchange for food and farming technology and techniques, I would be willing to trade dungeon cores!?”
Owyn brought the letter closer to his face to make sure he didn’t misread that one. “If exchanging dungeon cores is what it takes to maintain peace between our- are you kidding!?”
“What?” Abby asked. “I mean, from the perspective of a dungeon, that actually makes a lot of sense.”
Owyn handed the letter back to Faux and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Unfortunately it makes too much sense. It would be a very tempting offer, but there’s many implications that the letter left unsaid, and I’m not entirely confident we could deal with the aftermath. You and I in particular.”
“What does that mean?” Abby asked.
Rather than answering right away, Owyn confronted Faux. “Please don’t tell me you’re terrorizing Setterton just to deliver a letter concerning food.”
Faux nodded his head and tucked the letter back in his breast pocket. He smoothed it out, not that the action would make him look much better, considering how torn up his clothes were at this point.
Owyn stood in front of Faux, intending to stop the undead. Faux just altered his course to go around him. “Lucid does know it can feed its monsters with mana, right? It doesn’t actually need to feed them food?”
Faux shrugged. His lack of expression was infuriating.
“Is the dungeon threatening us!? If we don’t comply, it will begin hunting humans, won’t it! That’s why it mentioned the lack of food! It’s warning us to do as it says or else!”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Faux didn’t respond right away, instead taking out his book and writing in it.
“Is it really threatening us?” Abby asked Owyn. “I find that hard to believe. I mean, it wanted to play games with us… maybe it really does want peace?”
“Even if that’s true, it’ll ruin Setterton. It’ll ruin us Abby! Think about it! If it begins collecting cores from the caves, where will we get our money! We’ll have to move somewhere else and start all over again! We can’t afford to live anywhere else! That’s the whole reason we set up shop in Setterton! It’s the only small town in a thousand small towns that has its own supply of dungeon cores! It’s a fucking miracle other adventurers haven’t set up shop here!”
Faux presented Abby with his writing, seemingly done dealing with Owyn.
“I believe Lucid is being merciful in granting fair warning to Setterton. He’s offering a chance to open dialogue between you and him while he is in the lower position, asking for help.”
“He?” Abby asked.
“What fucking lower position!?” Owyn argued. “It has an army of fish creatures that are slowly adapting to walk on land! It just took on Settertons entire military force and won! This isn’t an offer for peace, this is a threat!”
Faux wrote in his book. “You read too much. Don’t worry about it.”
Owyn slapped the book away and marched back to stand next to Abby. “Please tell me you recognize the political play at hand here! There’s no sense convincing a thrall!”
Abby shied away from Owyn, smiling apologetically. “Would you believe me when I tell you I fell asleep when dad tried teaching me history?”
Owyn cursed lightly. “Yeah, yeah I fucking would.”
They walked in silence after that, Owyn fuming. He hated that the dungeon would overstep its bounds. Dungeons were supposed to be dungeons. Confined to their underground caverns. Creating monsters set on slaughtering anything and everything in their path. They weren’t supposed to be… whatever Lucid was.
Faux knocked on the door to the Bellamy mansion. Abby and Owyn stood to either side of the undead. Neither of them looked the part, but if Faux so much as flinched funny, both were ready to fatally subdue him.
A maid opened the door a crack. Upon seeing Faux’s undead state, with dozens of various wounds that should be bleeding, she slammed the door shut and screamed.
Owyn decompressed a touch. “Yeah, that’s the normal reaction.”
Sounds of footsteps and mutters came from the other side of the door. Abby and Owyn waited patiently, still not letting down their guard. Owyn had the thought that their advanced warning system didn’t seem to do a whole lot of good when their opponent was a sentient undead. Especially one as smart as Faux. Either they really would have to set up guards to keep watch of the dungeon caves, or their warning system would have to be a lot more sophisticated.
The mansions door opened. Two male attendants stood to either side of the door, swords at the ready. Owyn noticed that neither were experienced with handling swords at all, much less combat. Abby would make quick work of both larger opponents, even without a sword of her own.
The Baroness stood in the middle, wearing practical clothing. A different set than the one that she got wet. Lady Bellamy stood behind her, wand at the ready.
Faux bowed, as he would have done were he still alive. When he stood upright again, he procured the letter with exaggerated care. He bowed low once again, presenting the letter to the Baroness.
She ignored him for now. Her eyes went over Abby and Owyn.
“Neither of you are enthralled, so would you mind explaining why you just escorted an undead to my doorstep?”
Owyn activated his own mana sense on instinct, looking back over the Baroness now that they were outside the dungeon. She didn’t look enthralled to him either, assuring him that the contact with the dungeon core really did free her. He gave a short bow, but kept mostly upright, ready to move.
“He told us that he brings a letter. Courtesy of the dungeon.”
“He calls himself Lucid.” Abby offered.
“Lucid?” The Baroness demurred. “The dungeon is named?”
“It named itself.” Owyn grit his teeth, blatantly refusing to call the dungeon a ‘he’.
“Have either of you inspected the letter?” The Baroness still did not move from her spot. “Is there any evidence of poison?”
“I handled the letter myself.” Owyn assured her. “And we haven’t seen any poisonous plants in the Setterton caves since last year, when you hired the church to wipe them out. I doubt the dungeon would be able to poison it if it tried.”
The Baroness gestured to one of the butlers. Cautiously, the man edged his way forward, sword still at the ready. He gingerly reached out before quickly snapping the letter from Faux’s hands. Faux returned to an upright position. The butler didn’t hand the letter to the Baroness and instead unfolded it for himself to read aloud.
“You didn’t tell me you killed all the poisonous plants in the dungeons.” Lady Bellamy muttered while they listened.
The Baroness replied offhandedly. “It was for your protection.”
Lady Bellamy pouted, but didn’t argue further.
After the letter was fully read, the Baroness finally turned her attention to Faux.
“This is a lot of information to take in so late at night. I would like the day and another night to consider Lucid’s proposal. Would that be alright?”
Faux bowed. He turned to leave. Abby quickly followed, but Owyn stayed behind for a while. He needed to express his concerns to the Baroness.
She raised a hand to stop him. “The church is coming by tomorrow. That is why I delayed my response. The matters spoken in this letter are a blatant threat to Setterton and our way of life. If we are to protect what is dear to us, we must take appropriate caution.”
She gave Owyn a softer look. “Please, rest assured. I intend to handle this matter as well as I can.”
Owyn took a breath. He nodded, feeling just a little bit better. He hurried after Abby and Faux as the butlers closed the doors behind them. The Baroness was right. She was handling this in the way only she could. Which meant Abby and Owyn should also handle the problem the only way they knew how.
“I think we should start sleeping in shifts. Guard the cave entrance.”
Abby sighed. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
“We’ll buy overnight gear tomorrow. Unfortunately, tonight is going to be a long night.”
----------------------------------------
Felecia Bellamy stood in the tall window of the hallway by her bedroom. She held her hands behind her back, rubbing the singular ring she still wore. Her eyes stared out in the direction of the dungeon. In the direction of Lucid. His very name sent shivers of pleasure down her back. He did not communicate with her, probably couldn’t at this distance. Instead, he had given her a letter! She hadn’t been this excited to receive a letter since her husband had sent one before they were married.
If he ever returned from the capital, she would attempt to convince him to explore Lucid. To touch his core and become a part of him like she was.
She frowned. That would be tricky. She still had to play her part as Baroness. Perfect, and undetectable. It meant suppressing Lucid’s presence within her. It meant taking actions that the Baroness would have taken had she not been under Lucid’s control. It meant being protective of her daughter. Allowing her to experience the world without putting her in real danger. It’s why she had asked her father to supply Setterton with the Mayflower family and the Vernant family. Both renowned for their swordsman bloodlines, they were supposed to raise their children to be Isabelle’s perfect knights. Barry Mayflower and Grant Vernant. Barry was beginning to become a problem, with his interest in spearmanship, but if he refined it well enough, Felecia wouldn’t complain.
She wondered what she could do to assist the dungeon without altering her behavior. Her infuriatingly protective nature was far too deep rooted in Setterton culture for her to even make moves behind the scenes. Her subjects were too used to her acting a certain way. Interacting with anyone outside who she usually did would raise eyebrows, and that would be going against her direct orders.
Act as if you are not enthralled. Bring no suspicion that you are under my control. Return to your normal life, and wait for my call.
She could still hear his velvety voice in her dreams. His assured nature, certain that this was the right path. His will became her will, and she was all too happy to oblige.
Besides her previous behavior acting as an obstacle, there were also a number of other factors at play. She raised a ringed hand. A large white core decorated the center of the golden ring. A ‘light’ spell. A play on her husband's love for her, saying that she was the light of his life.
She extended her hand out to the window, attempting to direct her mana and will into the core. Her will moved as it should, but she simply could not feel the mana within herself any more.
That would be a problem. She was supposed to be a magician. How could she excuse her lack of magic ability and still act as if everything was normal? It already took everything in her to suppress her enthrallment. Thankfully, that only took will, and no mana. Who knew a fun fact she’d learned as a child would come in handy so late in her life?
Wait for my call. He told her.
That didn’t mean she could just do nothing. She needed to help the dungeon in any way she possibly could. Without raising suspicions, that would be troublesome. What she needed was something to shake things up in Setterton. What she needed was change. The church arrived tomorrow.
That would be her excuse.
She was going to help Lucid in the ways only a Baroness could.