It was mid morning the following day. “Too early,” according to the hung over William as they stood inline at the Adventurers Union. Helena only had ears for the argument ahead. She found it very insightful.
“Ten silver,” exclaimed the man. It was the same street urchin from Laatzen. “That’s a small fortune.”
“Maybe to you,” said the clerk behind the counter, “but union fees must be paid, in full.”
“How am I supposed to earn that if I can’t go into the dungeon,” pressed the man. “I just got here, I don’t have the money, and now you say I can’t work!?”
The clerk adjusted his glasses. “I don’t make the rules. Only enforce them,” he said. Then, offhand he said, “if you’re hard up for funds, you could petition one of the profession guilds, or sign up for employment with Harrison and Company. But you will not enter a sanctioned dungeon without a union badge. Good day.” The clerk dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
The man stormed off and Helena stepped forwards to take his place. She took ten silver coins from her meager perse. Her father had been very generous, but even she couldn’t survive very long on what was left.
“I’d like to join the adventurer’s Union,” she said. She forced her best smile. The clerk returned her smile. “Excellent,” he said, “I’ll been your hero’s scroll.” She handed it over and was given a stack of papers to sign. One cramped hand later, and she was the proud owner of a bronze adventurer’s badge.
When Helena and William emerged from the Union building, they were met by Roxie. “Were Kilo,” asked Helena.
“Unlike us, he already has is profession and started on his first dungeon run.”
“Then what are we waiting for,” said Helena and started towards the wagons.
There were only four options to choose from. A trio of voices all clamored to be heard:
“Be a warrior. Cleave your enemies in half with a giant sword. Or shoot them from afar with a bow.”
“Don’t be a brute, be a brain. As a wizard, you can burn your enemies with fire or freeze them with ice.”
“Let others be your sword and shield. Heal your friends from their stupidity. As a healer, you will always have a place in an Adventuring Party.”
The fourth person, Rosetta from yesterday, said nothing. She was stretched out on a couch, black armor, black makeup, and black hair. From her position, Rosetta lazily threw a dagger at a straw target, only to have it reappear in her hand a few seconds later.
“I know where I’m going,” said Roxie with a hardy laugh as she started towards the warrior’s wagon. “You coming, Will,” she called over her shoulder. William grumbled something under his breath as he trudged after her, leaving Helena all alone.
“Well, hello,” said the bond woman in white robes. “So, you want to be a healer?” The woman’s icy blue eyes gave Helena a once over as she fought to keep the sneer off her face.
Helena pointed at the warrior’s wagon. “My other friends went to see the warriors, so someone needs to save them from themselves.”
“An excellent choice,” said the woman. “that will be five silver coins.”
“Five silver,” explained Helena.
“Yes,” the woman said. “You can probably get that from selling your armor and weapons; you won’t be needing those.”
“Selling my armor and weapons,” Helena repeated, not quite believing her ears.
The woman gave Helena a look, and then, as if speaking to someone slow of learning, she said, “metal lowers efficiency and capacity of magic, gold being the only exception. Warriors are meant to be your sword and shield. In exchange, you heal them.”
Helena looked at her armor and weapons. They were goodbye presents from her father, her family. She felt loathed to part with them. She reached into her purse. “Only two silver left,” she said as she handed the coins to the woman.
“Go get your stuff,” said the woman, “we’ll be expecting you for noon prayers.”
“Noon prayers,” repeated an incredulous Helena.
“Do I have to repeat everything,” snarked the woman. Upon seeing Helena’s blank look, she said, “your entrance fee gets you your own room and three meals a day. It’s a better deal than you would get from those “other” professions.”
***
“21 days,” Helena said to her reflection in the mirror through clenched teeth. “It has been 21 days of healing and praying and making my bed. If I wanted to do that, I should have stayed with my family.” Helena pointed an accusing finger at her reflection, “well guess what Mother Victoria, this isn’t what I wanted to do when I prayed to the Eben-ezer stone. I want to fight monsters, I want to go where the action is, not,” and now Helena took on a mocking tone, “sit here where it is safe and brush my hair and wish Adori had made me prettier. I’m done.”
There came a knock at her door. “Helena,” called a sweet, sing-song voice, “the wizard’s here.”
Helena took a moment to compose herself, letting her stress drain into the floor. “I’ll be there shortly,” Helena said with a smile, even though no one else could see it.
Helena quickly descended the stairs and joined the gaggle of white robed healers near the entrance. The Wizard, Mr. Hilgo, was talking to Mother Victory, who for all purposes, appeared to be a plump woman in her 20s. Mr. Hilo said something, and the ladies giggled as one. Helena couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Sure, he was tall, with striking features, and well mannered. Whatever it was, he seemed to weave a spell that had others eating out of his hand, yet Helena was immune too.
Mother Victoria led the way, with Mr. Hilo’s arm intertwined with her own. “The usual,” asked Mr. Hilo. “Oh yes,” said Mother Victoria as she let him to the large dining room. “I’ll go first, and then by senior status starting with Sister Valory. Oh, yes” said Mother Victoria upon spotting Helena, “we have a new girl. You must do something about her dreadful mud skin. And her hair too. Can’t have one black swam amongst all my ducklings, now, can I?”
Helena felt a vein throb in the side of her neck. ‘Mud skin,’ she practically shouted inside her own head. It took several collective breaths before she could look at Mother Victoria and not envision her hands around the woman’s throat.
Mr. Hilo sat his first patent down on a chair. Withdrawing a sheet of colored paper from his robes, he compared Mother Victoria’s hair against the colored paper. “One hair coloring, I see,” he said, before cupping the woman’s head in his hands. He peered closely at the woman, close enough that the two could kiss. “And a skin refreshment as well.” He drew two slim pieces of heavy white paper from his pocket and drew a symbol on each. Touching both symbols, he said some words under his breath. There was a snap and a crack and both symbols began to glow. He handed the papers to Mother Victory. Instantly the woman’s hair, which had been noticeably darker, now returned to the same wheat blond as the rest. Her skin changed as well, now glowing with a vibrant youth. “Next,” he said as Mother Victoria left her seat.
The process was repeated, with each girl in turn receiving one or two pieces of paper, according to Mr. Hilo’s observation. Before she knew it, Helena found herself in the seat. “What if I like my hair,” protested Helena. In truth, she could change it at will, but that would lead to questions she did not want to answer. “But you must dear,” said Mother Victoria as she fussed over the latest addition to her flock. “As Adori commands, none of use is great then the least of these, isn’t that right girls.” The chorus agreed. Mother Victoria continued, “And we lift everyone up, then no one is the least.”
“A full service,” said Mr. Hilo. Now he cupped Helena’s face and lifted her chin up to his. They locked eyes.
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‘Relax,’ said a soft voice, and Helena felt herself sink into the chair. The room seemed to fade away. All she could see were those intense brown eyes. The voice returned, calming and soothing, ‘relax.’ The word was drawn out in a long whisper. ‘But I am still mad at Mother Victoria,’ countered Helena.
And like that, she was back, looking into the face of Mr. Hilo at a very intimate distance. There was a brief spark, and then Mr. Hilo broke eye contact. “And a skin coloring,” he announced. More privately he said,” you have a lovely complexion my dear.” He handed Helena her slips of paper. Not knowing what else to do, Helena took them. Instantly she saw her skin grow paler. A cursory examination of her hair showed that it matched everyone else.
“Wonderful,” cried Mother Victoria. Once more she took Mr. Hilo’s arm. As she did so, Helena saw the glint of gold pass between the two.
No sooner has Mr. Hilo left then a runner burst through the door. “Wounded! Adventures,” he gasped. Mother Victoria wasted no time. “Listen girls, we have wounded coming in. I want Sister Shelly and Sister Helena on healing. Everyone else to triage. Best faces girls.”
Helena arrived at the bed just in time for the door to slam open. Two people in armor, a man and woman, both beaten and bloody, carried a third. They generally laid him on the table before collapsing into seats of their own. Helena could now see the man’s pale face. “It’s William,” she cried.
Mother Victoria’s hands glowed over William. “Helena,” she said, calm as ever, “I know he’s a friend, but you need to focus. What is the first step?”
“First step, first step,” repeated Helena. “First step is to get him stable.” She looked to Mother Victoria’s glowing hands. “Do you have him stable?”
“I do,” said the woman.
“Good,” said Helena. “Next step is to scan and see.” She placed her hands over William, closed her eyes and muttered a spell.
In her mind’s eye she could see inside William: flesh and blood, pump heart, and one lung all working to keep him alive. The other lung has contracted, shriveled. She moved her hands over the area and saw it. “There’s an arrow in his left lung,” she announced.
“Dam right,” said the male adventurer. “He dipped at just the wrong time and that skeleton archer put an arrow into his armpit.”
“Focus,” said Mother Victoria,” Do you see the arrow clearly?”
“Yes,” confirmed Helena.
“Good, now use the removal spell like you’ve been practicing.”
Helena focused. She kept her sights on the arrow. Then she said the spell. The arrow vanished.
“Excellent,” cooed Mother Victoria. “Now check for air in the lung cavity.” Another spell. A small cut. More spells. Air was forced into the collapsed lung, but not too much as too burst it. All wounds seared shut with yet another spell. Helena did a full body scan just to make sure. Only then did she open her eyes.
Willaim was breathing, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of a blacksmith’s bellows. Color was returning to his face. Slowly he opened his eyes.
“Willaim,” cried Helena and she threw herself around his neck.
“Well done,” said Mother Victoria. She turned to another girl. “Sister Valory,” she said, “I want you on infections and disease. Everyone else, heal minor wounds, fix mistakes, and Helena.” Helena looked up. “Collect payment,” with that Mother Victoria left the room.
* * *
They sat outside on the steps, side by side, hiding from the noon day sun. Willaim fingered the spot where the arrow has missed his armor and almost ended his life. “You saved me,” he said for the third time.
“I wouldn’t been much of a healer if I didn’t,” said Helena. They sat in silence, watching traffic on the road. Then Helena asked, “have you been in the dungeon a lot?”
“Oh yes,” said William, counting on his hands, “about a dozen times. I’ve killed nearly a thousand monsters, of course slimes and large bats that die with a single hit don’t count as much.” He held up his purse, which was lighter than it had been a short while ago, “well, I had a purse full of silver. You see, each monster drops mana crystals, which you can sell here in town.”
“What types of monsters,” asked Helena.
“Well,” said Willaim, “there are rats, bats, slimes, and skeletons so far, but each only appears in its own environment.” Willaim went on and on, explaining the different sections of the dungeon and the environment had different monsters. Helena sat and listened, but her mind was working on a plan.
After William had left, Helena marched stair to Mother Victoria’s office and announced, “I want to go into the dungeon.”
Mother Victoria set aside her spectacles and the scroll she had been reading. “And why would you want to do that,” she asked.
“Because my friends are fighting in there. I want to help during their fight, not just after they turn up here half dead.”
“And risk yourself getting hurt like your friend”, asked Mother Victoria with a look of horror. “No, my dear, let the portions, druids, and paladins stop the bleeding. Our job it to fix their quick and sloppy ‘battlefield’ medicine, to knit bone, muscle, and nerves back together so our brave fighters are not permanently disfigured. Stay here, my dear, in the coven where it’s clean and safe.”
Helena just looked at the woman, not quite believing her ears.
“Your skin and hair look lovely, my dear,” said Mother Victoria as she returned to her scroll. “Mr. Hilo really does do a fine job.”
Helena turned and left. She only stopped briefly in her room to slam the papers from Mr. Hilo on her bed before storming out. Once outside, she picked a direction and started walking. It didn’t matter where she was going or who was in her way. She just had to get away from here.
* * *
Helena leaned her head against a tree, staring up into the canopy. She felt tired and heavy. Her thighs ached from her single-minded march through the woods. She wasn’t angry anymore; frustration and resentment still brewed just below the surface, but not anger.
She closed her eyes, breathing in the soft scent of sweet pine. Her hands brushed through the cool dampness of the pine litter. A breath of wind tickled her face, blowing strands of her hair this way and that. It felt so peaceful.
A twig snapped. Something huffed as it plodded on by. Helena opened her eyes and froze.
There was a bear. The great brute was a scant dozen steps away, moving with a slow lumbering walk. It passed by without seeing her.
Helena silently stood up, inching herself way. She dared not breathe; surely any minute the beast would turn around and see her. Her thundering heart counted out the seconds, but nothing happened. The bear traveled on, turning neither left nor right.
A thought started to nag at her and she stopped. Then she did a double take: the markings looked familiar. No, not a bear; it was Kilo.
Helena went to say something but stopped. Kilo was suddenly consumed by swirling green magic, and then it and the bear was gone. In its place was a small, child sized figure with green skin and pointy ears. The creature wore a dark green cloak with the hood pulled up. Its back was turned to Helena.
She stood and stared. Her thoughts, having left for a quick smoke and a drink, returned in a disjointed mass: ‘Kilo. Druid. Animal. Transform. Not human. Monster?’ She found her voice and whispered, almost too afraid to say the words, “Kilo?”
The creature whirled around, red eyes locking with hers. Its ugly face contorted in what could only be sear terror. “Helena,” he exclaimed. Then green energy swirled around his hands, and he launched the spell at her.
Helena ducked under the ball of energy. “Kilo, wait,” she cried. Kilo cast another spell. This time roots shot up from the earth and wrapped themselves around her legs. Helena kicked furiously at them but to no aval. The vines coiled around her thighs, and she was brought crashing to the ground. “Kilo, let no go,” cried Helena, “I can help.”
“No, no,” said Kilo, shaking his head with both hands. His voice was high pitched and his words heavily accented. “You not out here. No one out here. Now you know Kilo secret. Now Kilo be killed for sure. What to do. What to do.”
Helena wiggled and twisted against the vines. “Listen, Kilo,” she said through the strain, “I can keep your secret. I promise. Let me go, we can talk about it.”
“No. No. Not good enough,” said Kilo. He dithered back and forth, talking to himself, “Kilo let her go. She go to guard. They kill Kilo. Hm.” He looked up at her, “but if Kilo kill you, then you no tell guard. Kilo go free.” He reached for the crossbow on his belt. “Kilo very sorry about this,” he said.
“Wait,” pleaded Helena. She cast her eyes and mind about, thinking, looking for anything that would stop Kilo from killing her here and now. Then a despite idea took hold. “Kilo,” she cried, “I’ll trade you secrets. My secret for your secret. Then we will have to protect each other!”
Kilo paused, finger on the bolt catch. His eyes searched hers. Finally, he asked, “Is it big secret?”
Helena gave up her struggle against the vines. She fixed Kilo with her eyes, putting on her best ‘soft and innocent look’. “The biggest secret,” she hissed. “People would kill me if they knew.”
Kilo let the crossbow drop, but he kept his finger on the catch. His brow winkled in deep thought. “Ok,” he said at last. “You tell Kilo big secret. Then Kilo choose.”
Helena closed her eyes. A small part of her was screaming not to do this, but she would see no other way out. She concentrated. Then it started, like bugs crawling across her skin. She felt her mask skill away, revealing her true self. Helena opened her eyes.
It was Kilos turn to stand and stare, his jaw halfway to the ground. A pink tongue flapped about two rows of white pointed teeth. “What are you,” he asked.
Helena said, “I am a Metamorphites, a shapeshifter. I am a monster like you.” They stared at each other for some time. Helena kicked once more at the vines.
Kilo was the first to move: picking up his jaw and putting away his crossbow. “That big secret,” he agreed.
“Kilo, can you set me free,” ventured Helena. Kilo dismissed the vines with a wave of his hand.
They sat in silence: Kilo fidgeted with an arrow while Helena tried to massage some feeling back into her legs. She asked, “do you really have a problem with transformations?”
“No,” said the goblin, “lie to protect Kilo.”
Helena agreed it was a good idea. Then she asked, “Kilo, why are you here, disguised as an adventure?
Kilo poked the ground with his foot. “To kill adventurers.”
Helena sat stunned. She asked, “all adventurers?”
Kilo looked up and said, “No, just four. They burn Kilo home. Kill many goblins. Kilo swears vengeance, learn to be druid, hunt adventurers.”
Helena sat, not sure what to say.
Kilo pipped up. “You monster, shifter. Me monster, goblin. You want to be Kilo friend?”
Helena shook her head with amazement. “I would love to be your friend,” she said.
Kilo went back to drawing in dirty with his foot. Finally, he said, “Kilo sorry for try to kill you. Can Kilo give hug?”
Helena laughed, “I would love a hug,” she said and opened her arms wide.