Part I

Only A Slime

"Slimes are the most benign of all Monsters. If you aren’t looking hard enough you might not even know one is nearby—not because of their stealth or cunning, but rather their complete lack of ferocity. If you should see one in your travels it’s best to simply journey on, for they are hardly worth fighting."

- The Hero’s Complete Guide to Monsters

This is Hex’s story. And yeah… The poor little guy’s a slime.

* * *

Gulliver’s Cave, Monster Territory, The Fifth Age of Pent

Everyone knew slimes were the absolute worst of all Monsters. Surefire F-tier in all categories.

Attack strength: Horrid.

Defensive acumen: Putrid.

Stamina: What stamina?

Speed: Snail-like.

Skills: Essentially non-existent.

A mosquito would be a more challenging opponent than a slime.

Which is why, in this precise moment, Hex found himself swatting a fingerless green appendage at one of the tiny little suckers buzzing around his head (which was actually also his body)... and failing miserably to hit it.

He was a slime.

And he hated it.

"Are you coming, Hex?" a voice called through the narrow tunnel of darkness ahead.

He could only see a few feet in front of him with his eyes somewhat adjusted to the dark and the barely existent ambient fluorescence of his goo. Rocks and a few cavern-dwelling plants scattered the dirt path ahead.

"Any day now," the voice sang playfully.

As if I'm not trying.

Hex took one last hopeless swing at the mosquito. He missed, of course, and it perched itself above his left eye. It didn't bite him. Why would it? He had no blood to tempt the insect, but that didn't make its presence any less annoying.

He could hit it now that it was sitting still if he wanted to, but the two outcomes of that weren't exactly appealing. Either the bug would fly away at the last second and he'd smack himself in the face, or—if he miraculously squashed it—he'd have to deal with the sticky ichor of the mosquito's insides all over his head.

Instead, he sighed, allowing the pest to remain there, and bounced leglessly after his friend.

A dim white light came into view further up the tunnel. He arrived at a patch of a dozen glow mushrooms nestled in some fern-like foliage.

"Dracala, where are y—"

"Boo!" Dracala dropped down behind him and blew a gust of wind with her velvety wings.

Spikes of goo stretched out of his head and instantly retracted as he toppled forward and landed amid the mushrooms.

Dracala laughed hysterically, as if this wasn't the hundredth time she'd done this.

Freaking bats and their sense of humor.

"Why... Why would you… ever... do… that?" Hex rolled around, trying to prop himself up, and left an excreted goo on the mushrooms that tinted their glow green. "Look what you made me do!" He scowled at her.

"I got bored waiting for you so long. And besides, it's not my fault you excrete yourself every time you're afraid." Dracala squinted her yellow eyes and stuck her tongue out between two miniature fangs. She brushed a wing on his forehead. "Also, there are bug guts on your head."

"My pack is gonna get all sticky now," he said, trying—and failing—to wipe the goo off the mushrooms.

"Is that a normal slime thing?" Dracala asked. "I've never seen your dad excrete himself."

"That's because you've never jumped out and tried to scare my dad!"

"So you've seen him then?"

"Well... No."

"Must be a trait from your mom, then."

"Hey!" That was uncalled for. "My mother wasn't afraid of anything."

"How do you know?"

The question caught him off guard. Dracala didn't intend it to be harsh. She just didn't understand what it was like to be missing a parent. He knew that, but the words still cut into his gooey center. His heart sank a little in his chest.

I just know. He couldn't even remember his mother. His dad never talked about her. The image he'd created of her flashed in his mind. She would've been yellow, if his lime-green coloring was any indication. She would’ve ventured into caves, traversed swamps, explored the unknown dangers of the world. She had to have.

Dracala hopped toward the descending path ahead, ignoring his pained expression and his plight with the now-contaminated mushrooms. "We can just leave these ones anyway," she said. "There are more if we keep going. I already scouted ahead."

Hex's eyes widened. "You wanna go deeper into the cave? This is already too far."

Dad said to stay within sight of the entrance, as always. He peered behind, to where the beams of daylight would have been visible if they'd actually followed those instructions. No poisonous spiders or undead spirits had jumped out at them so far. Those creatures probably didn't even exist here.

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And there was something thrilling about exploring the unknown. Even more so when you're told explicitly not to.

"Come on, I'll race you!" Dracala fluttered up into the stalactites without waiting, then called back, "Last one there has to carry the mushrooms!"

Hex sighed, taking one more longing glance behind. What would Mother do? He took one hop forward. Then another.

See, Dad. Nothing bad happened.

He took a deep breath and continued on, not even trying to keep pace with his friend. She was far more physically gifted than him. Of course, he wanted to keep up, but it just wasn't realistic for a slime to race a bat.

By the time he arrived at the next patch, Dracala had already picked half the mushrooms into a small pile by her feet.

"Ruben is gonna be so happy when we come back with a full bag of these."

"I don't know how he goes through them so fast," Hex said.

Dracala raised an eyebrow at him.

"Okay, fine..." Of course I know, but you don't have to rub it in, Dracala.

The bat pulled the pack from Hex's shoulder and began stuffing it with her harvest. "Looks like you get to carry the bag again."

As always. "It's not fair you can fly and I... barely hop."

"You think everything's unfair."

"I do not."

"Next time I won't fly. How 'bout that?"

Hex snatched the last glowing mushroom from Dracala's hand before she could put it in the bag. "Fine. But I'm keeping this one to help me see better."

"Okay, but I get to choose the game then."

"No, not agai—"

"We're playing Heroes and Monsters this time. You be the Monster and I'll be the Hero."

Hex dropped his head. He was always the Monster. Dracala had explained it to him countless times. 'The Hero has to be able to beat the Monster, otherwise it defeats the whole purpose!' It made sense. I'm weak. It's just the way things are. That didn't mean he should have to suffer like this all the time, though. Couldn't she just pretend to be worse? It wasn't fair.

"Ah, wolf pelts..." he cursed. Maybe he did think everything was unfair.

"I’m going to be a Level 72 Rogue, just like I will when we go to the Academy!"

She had claimed to be Level 65 last time they played. The numbers just kept going up.

"Fine. But I’m a Paladin."

"Slimes can’t be Paladins," Dracala said, as if she knew anything.

"How do you know?"

She thought for a minute, then shrugged. "Okay, but you can only be Level 5."

Hex groaned, but after countless times playing Heroes and Monsters, he knew he didn’t have much choice in the matter.

They both knew they were never going to the Academy, that they’d probably never leave their little village at the edge of the world. But it was still fun to pretend.

"I'll give you a head start," Dracala said as she searched around for a stick to use as a sword.

Hex took advantage of her delay, pulled the pack over his shoulder, and bounded down the path. Maybe if he got far enough ahead he could get away with two or three bruises instead of the usual five.

"I got you!" Dracala yelled.

He halted. Dracala stood behind him, poised in the stance of an expert archer, using a broken root as a bow.

Oh, come on.

Dracala pulled her arm back and pretended to release another arrow. "Got you again!"

Hex rolled his eyes. This was a new one, but at least he'd avoid any injuries. He turned and continued bouncing away in a zigzagging pattern.

"Wait!" Dracala shouted. "Monsters are supposed to fight, not run."

Hex kept running, not interested in the likely scenario of Dracala's bow magically transforming into a sword as soon as he got close enough.

His safety didn't last long, though. Seconds later, Dracala landed by his side, having flown to catch up with him despite claiming she wouldn't fly this time. She churned her short legs, trying to keep pace, but Hex slowly pulled ahead. Bats weren't meant for running and she stayed true to her word now.

He felt the whoosh of air behind him as Dracala tried to swing the stick at him, but missed.

He laughed, actually having fun for once.

Then Hex heard the whistling.

He skidded to a halt and Dracala nearly crashed into him.

An orange glow flickered around the next bend as the whistling grew louder.

"Someone's coming," he whispered.

We've never seen anyone else in this cave before. Why now? We shouldn't have gone deeper. My dad was right. He's always right. We're—

"Hide," Dracala hissed. She dove behind a large boulder on the side of the path.

Hex followed, but tripped halfway there and rolled the rest of the way. She helped him up and brushed the dirt off his back.

"The mushroom!" she warned.

It was still glowing in his hand, clearly giving away their hiding spot. Dracala slapped it away without warning and it tumbled out of view.

"Sorr—"

"Shhh!"

The whistling stopped.

Torchlight now filled the tunnel, casting them in a shadow behind the rock. Dracala was barely visible beside him. Thank the Creator for her quick thinking. I'd still be standing hopelessly in the center of the path if it wasn't for her.

But the relief didn't last.

"Well, what have we here?" a salacious voice purred.

Hex's body tensed. His hands reflexively clenched into fists. He'd fight whoever this was if he had to.

Dracala put a wing over his mouth, silencing his heavy breathing.

"I know you're behind that rock," the voice said. "There's a trail of slime clear as day leading to it."

He was right. Where Hex had fallen, a smear of goo led right to them from the path.

Dracala smacked his head, then flew up to perch on a stalactite. "What do you want, elf?"

"Elf?" Hex wheezed, trying to keep his voice low. Okay, maybe he couldn't fight that... What's an elf doing way out here, anyway? This was Monster territory. Only a few Humanoids frequently traversed this far south, and he knew most of them—none of which were elves.

He peered around the corner and studied the visitor.

The elf's skin was a pale purple with teal hair draped elegantly over his shoulders and ears—even pointier than Hex expected. He wore a light leather tunic that blended in with the brown cavernous surroundings, suggesting he was an expert in stealth and probably would have been invisible to them if he'd been the one hiding.

"And where's your little slime ball friend?" the elf asked.

Hex hopped atop the boulder in view of the trespasser, trying his best to look menacing.

"Ah, two little explorers wandering the caves," he said. "How adorable." Then he raised a teal eyebrow, seeing the bag containing their treasure. "What's in your pouch there?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Dracala spat.

"Now that's not very nice. Can't we all just be friends?" He picked up the glow mushroom Dracala had slapped away and held it up in the light of his torch. "I would hazard a guess, but it's too obvious."

"If you need mushrooms, we'd be happy to share a few," Hex said.

"That's very sweet of you, little slime," the elf said pleasantly, despite the wicked grin across his lips. "I don't necessarily need mushrooms."

Hex opened his mouth, but didn't know how to respond.

"You can carry on and we'll leave you be," Dracala said from her place above.

"I'd rather not."

The elf deftly twirled a wooden staff out from behind his back and, in one fluid motion, hit Hex on the side. Hex huffed as he tumbled to the dirt. A dark green bruise was already forming where the staff had connected.

Before Hex could rise, the staff whipped into his stomach again. The world twirled around as he spun through the air and slammed against the packed dirt wall with a sharp cracking sound. If he had bones, they'd all have shattered.

Hex lay on the ground, completely breathless, as rubble fell from the wall on top of him.

He groaned. Why...?

It hurt all over.

Dracala screeched and landed in front of him. "Alright! Stop!" she shouted. "Take the mushrooms. It's all we have." She tossed the sack toward their attacker.

The elf bowed low. "Wise decision, fodder." He snatched up their hard-earned inventory and turned to leave, but halted. His eyes widened as he stared at the wall Hex had crashed into. A dim blue glow shone through the cracks in the wall, like rays of sunlight through murky water.

"It can't be..." the elf said. He vaulted over Hex and began hitting at the wall with his staff. As he hacked away, a chunk of wall collapsed, revealing a stone arch large enough for several Humanoids to walk through side-by-side. The gateway was sculpted from ancient black stone with a faintly pulsing blue gem embedded in the keystone at its apex.

Hex twisted himself amid the rubble to get a better look at the structure. It clearly wasn't a natural formation. What is it?

"What is that?" Dracala asked, voicing his silent question.

The elf whirled around to her, as if he forgot he wasn't alone. "You never saw this," he said, a hideous, stern expression carved onto his pointed features. Then he turned to Hex. "Leave here now."

Hex pried himself from the debris with Dracala's help, but evidently not quick enough for the elf. His staff whipped through the air again, this time catching Dracala on the side. Something snapped—and it wasn't the staff. She grunted as she tumbled backward into the rock they'd hid behind earlier.

"Get out!" the elf screamed loud enough to scare the tiny cave insects into their holes.

Hex hopped away, but stopped when the sound of flapping wings didn't follow.

Dracala? They needed to hurry. What was she doing?

His friend lay unconscious on the ground back by the gate. Hex returned and tried to rouse her, but she lay unmoving.

"I said get out!" the elf shouted again, taking an aggressive step toward them.

Hex pulled with all his strength. The bruises stung and his arms were weak, but he fought through it and tugged Dracala's limp form behind him, tears streaming from his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dracala," he cried as he struggled toward the cave's exit.

If he'd been better, he could have prevented this. If I was a wolf or a bear or a skeleton, at least I could have fought back. Or ran.

Anything but a slime...