Tavio regained his stance after being pushed a few steps across the portal’s threshold, then threw Shog aside with another burst of radiant light. The pitch dark room within the Closet was illuminated in a photo flash of white, the sharp edges of the uneven metal floor glinting, but the cavernous ceiling remained cast in shadow. At the chamber’s edges, forms began to stir.

I cast Shortcut deeper into the room, then stepped carefully between sculpted potholes, the phantom pain of sprained ankles leaping to my mind. Still, I kept my eyes on Tavio. Even without the aid of my enhanced sight, I was intimately familiar with the sloping and hostile terrain.

The Littan stood in a beam of moonlight that cut across the room from the Closet entrance. He studied his surroundings with caution, nose snuffling the air and whiskers twitching. Shog had recovered from Tavio’s toss, but hovered and waited for my direction, violet blood dripping from his wounds. This fight was no longer on the aggressor’s terms, and the c’thon knew enough to let the asshole wade deeper into the trap.

Deep growls sounded from the dark, echoing off hard surfaces and accompanied by the clatter of talons.

To his credit, Tavio took the time to appraise the situation, and it seemed like the Littan wasn’t fond of what he found. He stared into the gloom, shifting eyes searching for the source of the hungry snarls. Even I had trouble making out the aberrant hounds from this distance. Despite the dark, Tavio stared in their direction as the pack made their approach, as wary of the intruder as he was of them.

“This… is not a spell I recognize,” Tavio said, taking a few steps further inside.

I considered shutting the portal behind him, but I didn’t like cutting off his only route of retreat. He’d pissed me off and endangered innocents with his senseless brawl, but it wasn’t yet my goal to end him by any means necessary. Even if it was, Tavio was certain to be more dangerous when trapped, and I could do without a level seventeen rampaging through all of mine and Grotto’s hard work.

The air shimmered to Tavio’s left, and the Littan ducked low to the ground as a wave of dimensional force tore through the space he’d just been. He placed his palms flat on the floor and tumbled forward as another shot out and left a line carved through the metal. He rolled gracefully back to his feet, searching for the source of the attacks.

While Grotto took his potshots, I pulled out my throwing hammers. I cast another Shortcut to give myself a better angle from atop a small rise, then lobbed a Void Hammer.

The hammer screamed through the air and Tavio dodged aside, then spun again as another arc of twisting space sought to rend his flesh. My hammer struck the ground with a crash, annihilating a soccer-ball’s worth of the floor before hurtling back toward me. Tavio followed the arc of the hammer as it came back, then used his glowing charge to close the distance.

I caught the hammer and cast another Shortcut, taking myself into the midst of the pack.

Most of the aberrant hounds came up to my elbow, but the pack leader looked at me from eye level. Their four-legged frames were covered in knotted muscle beneath wet skin, their mouths pulled back into permanent snarls. They appraised me with rheumy eyes, but after taking a few sniffs, ignored my presence. Being the co-administrator of a Delve had its perks.

Tavio turned his head about for a few moments before looking in my general area. I got the sense that he could make me out, but just barely. To my knowledge, Littan’s didn’t have the best darkvision, so it had to be a skill of some sort.

Tavio began to make his way slowly in my direction, when the floor opened up and swallowed his foot. He let out a startled grunt, but it sounded more surprised than concerned, and he staggered to a stop. He pulled against the trap, the sound of wrenching metal filling the air.

This fucker was strong enough to tear his way out of the Delve equivalent of reinforced steel. It didn’t even look like he was trying that hard. Still, it gave him pause, and that’s all that Shog, or the hounds, needed.

I led with two Void Hammers while Tavio struggled with the ground and Grotto activated another dimensional trap. The Littan jerked his foot free and avoided all three, but Shog was on him again, wrapping him up in a barbed tentacle and landing several more strikes with a stinger. He followed it up with several clawed swipes that Tavio intercepted with his fists, leaving the c’thon’s fingers broken and bloodied.

The pack leader howled and the hounds charged, splitting the pack into two groups that flanked Tavio. They quickly overwhelmed the Littan with numbers, and Tavio hurled hound after hound away from him while yet more began to chew at his thigh and calves.

I caught my hammers and cast Shortcut into the fray, swinging with Oblivion Orb-infused strikes, but Tavio abandoned his defense against the hounds to avoid my attacks. Shog’s grip did little more than slow the Littan, and I heard the awful sound of tearing skin and muscle as Tavio pulled with enough strength to begin ripping more of Shog’s tentacles free.

Even with all of the level seventeen’s advantages, he couldn’t dodge everything. Wounds began to cover his legs from the merciless jaws of the hounds, and Shog continued to pump him full of venom as I did my damndest to connect with a hammer.

“Stop!” shouted Tavio, but I ignored him and rage began to boil within me over the command. He had demanded a fight, and this was the fight I was going to give him. I didn’t fuck around with sucker punches and snide comments.

Finally, the pack leader bit down on Tavio’s shoulder, and his movement was halted by the combined force of my allies. My hammer descended toward his torso and the Littan couldn’t dodge away this time. But when the hammer struck, it struck with a clang.

My eyes widened as a broad kite shield appeared over Tavio’s left arm in another burst of light. The shock of the impact jolted down my arm as my weapon smashed into it. Tavio thrust the shield back at me at the same moment and I was staggered, falling back a few steps to catch my balance. Tavio bashed the pack leader with the shield and then Shog in rapid succession.

The alpha hound was knocked away and the c’thon’s grip was broken, feelers hanging limp from his body. Tavio kicked at my summon once more, sending him sailing through the air. This time, when Shog caught himself, spectral vines rose from the ground and wrapped themselves around his body. Their edges were covered in sharp thorns and rose-red flower petals began filling the air. They whirled around Shog, shimmering and translucent, and I saw that they left thin cuts across the c’thon’s skin where they whipped past him.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Tavio raised one arm into the air and a pillar of light burst from his hand, revealing a resplendent spear that turned the area around us to daylight. He spun, and in a quarter second the legs were cut out from beneath several of the hounds. They howled as they collapsed to the ground, stumps dripping thick blood. Then, Tavio leapt backward, clearing a hundred feet and landing in front of the exit portal. He held the shield before him, eyeing the scene and looking… embarrassed.

“This spar has gone farther than I intended,” he said.

I began silent charging Explosion!

“Spar?” I said. “I declined your ‘spar’. You started a fight.”

He lowered his shield and inch and tilted his head to the side.

“I… can see what you mean,” he said. “I suppose that I got carried away.”

I found the attitude baffling.

“What the fuck did you think was going to happen?” I asked, voice low. “You attacked me out of nowhere. I’m supposed to think it’s a game?”

He shrugged.

“I told you that I would pull my punches.”

“Didn’t feel like you did,” I said, running a tongue over my swollen gums. My missing teeth were still missing. I took a look at my hounds. “Didn’t pull your punches on my fucking dogs.”

“I did, though,” he said. “They are mana monsters, no? The legs will grow back. I did not want to kill them, since they seem to be your, ah, pets?” I glared at him.

“You almost killed someone.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Who? The people in the inn? No, I was very careful to hit you in directions that had no people. I have a lot of experience with these things.”

“I…” What kind of person has a lot of experience punching people… around other groups of people? “Sure. What now?”

He thought for a moment, then dropped his shield and dismissed his spear. He placed his palms together and gave me a Hiwardian bow.

“Now, I apologize,” he said. “I am sorry that I took this so far. Please forgive my rudeness, but…” he peeked up at me, still bowing, “you are much stronger than you should be for your level. I got excited.” He gave me a stupid grin.

“You done?”

“Yes,” he said, standing up straight once more. “I shall take my leave.”

“Good,” I said. “Then get the fuck out of my closet.”

I snapped my fingers.

The deafening roar of Explosion! resounded through the space and Tavio was sent hurtling. He flew back out into Hiward and then through the wall of the bakery he’d trashed with the shrapnel from my broken hammer. The Littan’s body did far more damage than the debris had and, I am embarrassed to admit, it was incredibly satisfying.

Maybe I didn’t mind sucker punches so much.

Still, pretty shitty, all things considered. That baker was going to be having a rough day tomorrow. In that moment, however, I let myself appreciate the feeling. I’d pay for the cost of repairs and drop ten years worth of baker’s wages on top. Hopefully they’d view it as a windfall, and not just as some rich asshole turning their livelihood into expensive playtime.

I walked toward the portal as Tavio climbed from the debris and dusted himself off.

“That was a pretty good spell!” he said, placing his hands on his hips and smiling. “It dealt ten percent of my health!”

My feelings of satisfaction drained away.

“What’s your Fortitude?” I mumbled, then brought my weapon back up when a roiling shadow appeared and deposited another Littan beside Tavio. He was much more slender than Tavio, built more like the typical Littan’s I’d seen, but no less tall. He wore a well-tailored suit of black and blue that contrasted starkly with Tavio’s–now ruined–casual wear.

He was also level seventeen, all gold, with special Delves under his belt.

“Gharifon!” said Tavio, turning his broad grin on the new arrival. “I did not expect you so soon.”

Gharifon returned Tavio’s smile, though it looked strained.

“Tavio,” he said, “these Delvers are not level six.”

“What do you mean?” Tavio gestured at me. “You can see the level right above his head.”

Gharifon turned and appraised me with glittering brown eyes.

“I’m sorry you got roped into this,” he said. Then, to Tavio, “I do not care what the level indicator shows, they are not level six.”

A chill ran through me.

“Are you talking about my party?” I said, tensing. “What did you do to them?”

The second Littan, Gharifon, held up a hand and bowed slightly.

“Nothing harmful, I swear. Tavio merely asked that I distract them. They were asleep for most of it.”

“Most?” said Tavio. “What do you mean by-”

A pillar of crimson light fell from the sky, engulfing them both.

“You. Fucking. Asshole!” shouted Xim, and I turned to see her charging towards us from the inn. She had her scepter raised over her head, but she wore only a long sleep shirt. In the distance I saw Varrin struggling to follow, one hand on the hem of his pants as though he hadn’t had time to lace them up. “Try and haunt my nightmares?! I’ll find your fucking family you little shit!”

I turned back to the Littans, and was confused by what I found.

Whenever Xim had cast her Judgment spell, the fire had always burned with a blood-red hue. Tavio, however, burned with the natural orange and yellow flame of non-divine fire. Gharifon’s immolation, on the other hand, burned in the color that I expected. Tavio shouted and patted at his body, but his companion waved a gentle hand through the air and a blue wave of mana rolled over them both.

In the instant before the inferno was doused, I saw the outline of Gharifon’s face within it. His eyes were deep and hollow, filled with a dusk that defied the raging light engulfing him. They were endless and, for a moment, I felt them sucking me in.

When the fire disappeared, the Littan had the same weary smile on his face and his eyes were a normal honey brown, though his clothes were charred and ruined. Tavio took a deep breath and uttered a series of swears in Imperial.

“Burning!” he said. “It doesn’t matter how much damage it does, I despise it!”

Gharifon heaved a sigh.

“May we go now, Tavio?” he asked.

Tavio gave Xim, who had paused her charge ten or so yards away, a frustrated look.

“Yes,” said Tavio, then he turned to me. “I have learned much from this. Thank you, Esquire Arlo. Perhaps we will meet again.”

“Yeah, I hope not,” I said, still fixed on Gharifon and the strange feeling he’d given me.

Tavio’s look of annoyance gave way to a wide smile, then both he and Gharifon disappeared in a cloud of shadow.

Xim marched up to me, bare feet slapping through the muddy ground where Shog had bled. She stopped a few inches away, looking me up and down.

“Arlo,” she said.

“Yeah, Xim?”

“What in all the hells was that about?”

I looked at the empty space where the Littans had been.

“I have no fucking clue.”