Quest, Cross the Chasm, completed!
Congratulations, you have made it to the Mid-Levels!
You are closer to atonement.
Other rewards:
1. You have been granted a 10-hour rest period within this safe space. There are no facilities or dispensers.
You may leave whenever you want.
Warning: This area is now a no-combat zone.
2. Experience and attributes gains are being calculated. They will be awarded during the rest period.
“No blasters. No toilets. Not even food,” Mul muttered.
“It's not that bad,” Cen said. “We had a toilet just a few days ago. Don’t tell me you need to go again already?”
“No…” Mul grumbled. “But I’d love a blasting…”
Cen sighed in sympathy. “Don’t get too used to those things. We didn’t really used to do it that often.”
“We had it once a week! And the whole point of leaving that hole was to live better! Not to keep rationing, or going a month without washing myself!”
“Mul…”
Nar flicked off the rewards window.
They were seated to the left of the circular area, where it met with the flat part of the stairs. After the battle, once things had calmed down, Kur had guided them backwards to that spot. It meant that they had that little corner for themselves, a bit away from the other Climbers, and there was an exit right there, if they needed to leave in a hurry. Although, given the rewards from the quest, it didn’t look like it was going to be a problem, like last time they had fought alongside other Climbers. Regardless, Kur had warned them to keep their purple weapons out of sight, so as to not spark any questions or jealousies.
Jul sat to his left, and he was oblivious to her intense stare. Tuk was to his right, hunched down so low it was as if he had no strength left to hold himself upright. He held his bloody hands together, and stared lifelessly at them.
Viy sat at Tuk’s right, her eyes glassy, staring not at the bridge, but at the impenetrable chasm itself.
Gad and Kur were off with Row, doing the Crystal knew what. And that left only Mul and Cen, sitting together, with their backs to the others.
Nar felt emptied. Of what, he could not say. Only that there was a hole inside of him, a void as deep and absolute as the one that stretched before him.
He felt no hunger, no thirst.
He felt nothing.
His limbs spasmed sporadically, both reminder and consequence for his reckless actions. Somehow, he had made it through with a solid third of his stamina intact, probably because he hadn’t used any of his skills. They had been forgotten in the chaos. But his HP was another story. Even with his sword’s [Minor Hunger] periodically restoring a drop of his HP, he was still down 37 points.
To be honest, he didn’t even remember being hit that much, or that badly, to merit such an HP drain. However, the last bit of the battle was pretty much a dark haze.
Why had he done that? Why had he lost himself and plowed on into the guardians by himself?
All he remembered was feeling such anger. Such hatred. Everything about that bridge had felt wrong. As though it had been designed to kill the most number of Climbers, or even to prevent them from crossing altogether. And near the end, surrounded, he had just felt such… Such darkness inside him. He had just wanted to destroy every single guardian in front of him, and get the party to safety. But the more guardians he destroyed, the angrier he got… He wondered what would’ve happened to him, had Kur not called him back when he did.
He did not want to think about it. He rather preferred to be empty. Exhausted from everything.
“I’m sorry,” Mul said, after a period of silence. “I just-I don’t… I’m sorry.”
Cen took his hand in hers, and looked down at the bridge.
Nar, seeing her movement, did the same.
The bridge was littered with the debris of a hundred guardians, the few who had not been pushed down as they were destroyed. Here and there, amidst the wreckage of the guardians, a charred hand stretched up to the ceiling, as if as a last desperate reach for the goal that would never be seen.
Bodies were thrown and twisted and slashed across the length of the bridge. And those were the ones who had simply not fallen over, vanished, gone forever into the dark below.
“Just… This… This whole thing!” Mul said. “Was this necessary? Was it even fair? If we hadn’t been here… If Tuk, Nar, you and that other caster… If our parties had not been here, all of these Climbers would’ve died. Especially without Tuk and Nar. One who uses [Aura] to fight and the other who is some kind of crazy hybrid tank/DPS!”
Neither Nar nor Tuk spoke at the mention of their names.
“Without the two of them, and us, and Row’s party, they would have all died. Without you and Tuk, we would’ve died. And without Row’s party, we would’ve died.”
He scoffed. “Without you, we wouldn't even have made it here!”
Cen pursed her lips and looked down.
“Mul…,” she whispered. But what was there for her to say?
Mul waved at the bridge.
“Don’t you see it? It was just luck and sacrifice that got us through. Yours, Tuk’s and that of all the other casters throwing their chances at gaining magic into the pile! It wasn’t our skill! Or our strength! Or our attributes, or weapons! We were just lucky!”
His voice choked at the end, and he covered his face. Cen hugged him.
A loud bang resounded across the chasm and silenced the gathered Climbers. With a mighty groan, the bridge they had crossed shook and trembled.
People ran, either backing away from the bridge or towards it, to see what was happening.
Slowly, the bridge lowered into the darkness, leaving them trapped at the entrance of the Mid Levels.
“Did anything even matter?” Mul asked, watching the bridge going down. “Does anything?”
Of all the Climbers gathered to watch, Nar spotted one in particular. A morsvar with the exact same type of spear as Viy.
He held it tightly in front of him, as if at any moment he could collapse without it. His face was a mask of tears and snot. A sorrow the likes of which Nar hadn’t seen in a long while.
He recognized him, he had been the one to scream, near the end, when Tuk hadn’t managed to kill that explosive rounds guardian in time.
Nar looked from crying Climber to broken, burned corpses strewn across the bridge. Most of them were gathered at their side, near the end.
There was no need for that, Nar though, balling his hands into trembling fists.
What had been the point? They had already been exiting the bridge. Why just hurt them needlessly at the end of it? He just couldn’t understand it, or justify it.
Next to him, he heard Tuk cry soft, silent sobs that rocked him.
Nar wondered if he blamed himself for what had happened.
Perhaps nobody else had seen it, other than Nar.
But Tuk knew. He knew he had been too late. He would always know she had died because of his choice.
Nar should have said something then. Tell him it wasn’t his fault. That he had gone above and beyond what could’ve been expected and asked of him, and that all those who had made it owed their lives to him and his reckless, untrained, [Aura] rings.
But Nar was still lost to his own emptiness. He found no words within him that he could say to comfort another.
********
Sounds and feeling returned slowly to Nar, in the hours after the bridge was lowered into the darkness.
The worst of the wounded slept and healed, while the others simply healed.
In hushed conversations at first, with some tears, slowly, building to a crescendo, the living remembered they were still alive. Excitement, sorrow, laughter and crying. Emotions raged. Unbridled. Unfettered.
It got louder and louder, and at some point, food was taken out, and a celebration had begun. The dead were honored and respected. Remembered for their deeds and stories, and the living celebrated that they were alive, sharing the guilt of the joy they felt that it hadn’t been them. That their Climb continued, and that at long last they had received a sign, a proof, that they were making progress.
That there really was an end to the endless corridors and hordes of guardians.
That now they were on the Mid Levels.
That they had a real chance of getting out someday…
Even the air seemed less hot, the temperature lowering to a more comfortable and cozy warmth.
Nar, Kur and Row sat together, talking, by the edge of the room.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“That’s insane,” Row said. “That whole thing is insane. And I see why you were so cautious with us.”
Kur nodded. “You would too.”
“I would. I’m glad you’ve confided in me,” Row said, nodding vigorously. “I’ll be much more careful of other Climbers from now on. But please, don’t show those weapons of yours around. Me and mine would never take them, but I can’t deny the jealousy I feel. Even resentment. I wish my people had those weapons.”
She shook her head, slowly, and looked around her, locating her party members. The two parties had mingled into smaller pockets of friendly conversation. Arranged in a small semi-circle of their own, they were practically apart from the rest of the Climbers.
Tuk, Jaz and Row’s other archer, Lim, roared with laughter. Jul, seated next to Tuk, stared aghast at Jaz from under Tuk’s waving arms. Gad, with Viy silently sitting beside her, was engaged in a deep and focused conversation with Tun. He had his shield out, and seemed to be demonstrating something by angling the shield and making a sweeping gesture with his hand that followed that angle.
Nearby, Mul, still brooding, sat with Cen, Cor and Raf, a human who wielded a big two-handed ax. Cen and Cor discussed [Aura] with broad gestures and wide sweeps of their staffs, and Raf, eyes tiny with sleep, nodded along beatifically. Once in a while, he stole a glance towards Tuk.
That left only the last and eighth member of Rows party. The four bladed quam, who sat by himself, and was still staring daggers at Nar.
Nar took a deep breath, and looked away. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the quam.
“I don’t wish we were there, though, with those cannibals,” Row said at last, and with a small shudder. “I want the reward but not the hardship. Crazy, isn’t it?”
Kur nodded sagely, a small smile gracing his own lips.
Nar breathed through his gritted teeth.
“Row,” he called, trying to keep his voice level.
The red-haired leader tensed.
“Yes?”
Nar motioned towards the quam with his head.
“Does your guy want to fight with me?”
Row swiveled her head so fast she must have given herself whiplash.
“Teb! I swear to the fucking Crystal! Enough! Go take a walk!”
“What? Why?”
“Now, damn it! I’ve had it with you!”
The quam, Teb, glared at her and Nar both, and stormed off, kicking his feet.
“Fucking child,” Row said, glaring after him. “Always making a nuisance of himself. Crystal! The shit I need to put up with!”
“What’s his problem?” Kur asked, watching Teb disappear into the crowd.
Row blew air in exasperation, and passed both hands over her hair and down the back of her neck.
“Teb’s fast. Really fast. He’s our best DPS and he’s got the ego to match it. But Nar hurt his pride.”
“Me? I didn’t even talk to him!”
“I think she means your [Speed],” Kur said.
Row made a gesture that encompassed all of Nar.
“I meant all of you,” she said. “The crazy way you move. The way you handle your sword. The way you stopped those fucking bolts and those tiny guardians coming up from the sides!”
She shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, Tuk’s amazing, and we wouldn’t have made it without him. But we wouldn’t have been able to cover Tuk like you did, nor the tanks’ back without you.”
Nar looked away. “I’m sure you would’ve found a way.”
“Would we?” she asked. “Our ranged were busy clearing the ceiling. Teb was busy covering Tuk’s back and the ranged. Viy was helping him, but she had to move up to help the tanks. Raf was taking care of the other side and Mul kept those tiny spiders off of us. Kur was Cen’s legs and I was trying my best to do a lot of nothing!”
Kur chuckled.
“Yeah, we would’ve been screwed without you, Nar,” he said, slapping his back. “I’m really glad we have you in the team.”
Nar’s mouth worded words but made none
“I wish I had one of you in my team,” Row said, eyeing him.
“Hey! No poaching my people!” Kur said.
Row grinned at him and pretended to wipe some drool off her mouth. “Your ring tosser and your caster too. Actually, I wish I could take your whole team and merge it into mine!”
She cackled at Kur’s mock affronted expression. At least, Nar thought it was mocked.
“In all seriousness, though. I’m mind blown that whatever it is you’re doing is working so well,” Row said. “The first thing our priest told us was to be really clear and focused on what role we wanted to receive.”
“Same with ours,” Kur said. “He warned that if we hesitated or wavered between roles, we would get something that was good at neither. A hybrid class. A point in between. Useless.”
“Exactly! No offense Nar, but I honestly can’t believe you’re still alive and have made it this far.”
“There were close calls,” Nar said. “And many times where I regretted my choice. But Kur and the others… It’s thanks to them.”
“I bet!” Row said. “You must have sucked ass at the start!”
“... I did.”
“You’ve done things I still can’t believe you did,” Kur said, shaking his head. “Even though I watched it with my own two eyes… It was rough, really rough. I’m glad you’re in a much better spot now.”
“I guess,” Nar thought. “This is all still pretty new to me.”
“I can see that,” Row said. “And that’s what makes me so jealous. What if I had done the same?”
“A leader something hybrid?” Kur asked, awe spreading over his face.
“Yes! A leader and caster hybrid role! Can you imagine?”
Rows eyes sparkled.
“I could have my boon and Cor’s [Aura Projectile]! It would be much weaker than hers, I’m sure, but damn! The possibilities! The strategies! The value added by sacrificing a bit from both roles!”
“Crystal, I never thought of that,” Kur said. “I could have been a hybrid leader/DPS. Or even a tank! The amount of times that guardians got through the front, or surprised us from the back! And all those times we’ve been surrounded!”
Nar squirmed uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.
Sure, it looks like it's something now. But when it started? When I had just left? I was trash. Useless.
It was hard to believe that that day, months ago, when he had first looked upon his two new weak skills and attributes, had been real. That from that despair, fear and doubt, he had managed to build something that might actually become something one day. A true path. And one that would one day bring him back to his dad.
He shook his head. If the day does come, it will be years. Years and years.
The Wasting sickness was slow, and his dad was young. But would he find him alive when he actually came back?
Only the Crystal knew… And there was no sense in thinking about it now.
“Nar!” Tuk called. “What are you doing with the manager brats? Come join the fun!”
“Yeah, man!” Jaz added. “Your ears are gonna rot, and you’ll start using words like ascertain and enunciate and stuff!”
“Those are normal words!” Row said, in an exasperated tone that spoke of an entire history of bickering.
Kur chuckled and nudged Nar with his arm. “Go on. Go have some fun. Relax.”
With the quam taking a walk and Row heaping praise on him, Nar didn’t have to be told twice, and sprung to his feet.
“You’ve created quite something there, Kur,” Row said, watching Nar join the much louder and raucous group.
“Me?” he asked, taken by surprise. “I didn’t do anything. It was all him. I wasn’t lying when I said I can’t believe all the crazy shit he’s gone through.”
“Oh, I’m not saying Nar hasn’t worked hard for it. But he didn’t act alone. Not only did he have a party willing to support him at his weakest, and also willing to put up with his nonsense idea, he had you,” she said, staring at him intently. “You enabled it. Allowed it. You probably even encouraged him.”
Kur shook his head. “I told him I saw promise in his path. But I never pushed him into it, and I would’ve respected his decision had he wanted to change his path.”
“Okay. But at least you heard him, and thought about how best he could fit in with the party.”
“Of course,” Kur said. “He brought us so much flexibility. So much potential to respond in so many different ways to so many different scenarios. And we have, all thanks to him being what he is.”
“Now, maybe,” Row said, shrugging. “But back then, though? I wouldn’t have allowed it. It pains me but, we would’ve done better with either a full tank or a full DPS. Probably the latter, considering his sword. Our lives are at risk here… I can’t risk the entire party for the sake of one Climber’s foolish aspirations. After all, there’s a reason why hybrids fail, and all the other parties do just fine when everyone sticks to their role as they should.”
Kur frowned. “Are you saying I made a mistake? That I was a bad leader for not stopping him?”
She shrugged.
“Now, I can answer no and no. Nar saved our lives today… Would we have crossed that bridge without him? Or without Tuk? Sure, eventually. With triple or quadruple the casualties, or more. All I’m saying is that while Nar is responsible for his part in making his own path, you are also responsible for it. We don’t just shout orders and make decisions. It’s our responsibility to do what’s best for the party, both as a whole, and individually. Hopefully, they align. But sometimes they don’t. I just can’t help but wonder, what went through your mind, when you decided that Nar’s choice was both the best for him and for the party. It can’t have been an easy decision.”
Kur looked away from her, and stared at Nar, laughing with the others. The hybrid swordsman had come a long way from that shy, nervous guy that had approached them in the dark to ask to join his party. Thinking about it made him smile.
“You’re wrong,” Kur said. “From the moment he introduced himself and said that he was a hybrid tank/DPS, I never doubted him. There was something about the way he said it. The way he looked at me. He had made his choice, and wasn’t going to let anyone sway him either way. He was sure of what he wanted. Maybe not the how, but he’s always had a goal in mind. It’s a goal I still don’t know nor understand, but it drives him. He has doubts, sure, and I can see that something is bothering him. That there is more to him than what I’ve managed to glimpse. But he has remained true. And he has never let me, or anyone else, down. Maybe other parties don’t need someone like Nar, but ours does. And we wouldn’t have made it this far without him. Without all of us, for that matter, contributing in our own special ways.”
Kur stretched his back and leaned onto his hands.
“We have two lengos, one of which is a brawler, a trugger ring tosser, a scout that can’t fight, an unreliable spear woman with mental issues, a hybrid tank/DPS, the best tank I could’ve ever hoped for, and me. I knew what the other party leaders thought at the time. I know what even you might be thinking right now. And yet, here we are, and you, your party, and every Climber here needed us today.”
Row swallowed drily and looked away.
“I didn’t mean to offend.”
Kur scratched his head.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to come off as aggressive as that. All I meant to say is, no matter how unlikely they look, I believe in every single one of them. With my whole being. I believe in their potential and I believe we are going to make it out of here. All of us. Together.”
Row was too stunned to speak, and Kur laughed to fill in the silence.
“That’s not to say they’re not a handful!”
The woman shook her head. “You’re a handful too. Fit for your party.”
“I guess so!”
“And, I apologize if my words were… Unnecessary. However, I’ll say one more thing,” she said, her tone dropping. “You’re right Nar is keeping something close to his heart. I don’t know what it is, but I think I caught a glimpse of it today…”
She glanced towards the swordsman, and a shadow passed over her eyes.
“At the end, when things were looking bad… It was like he found a second bar of stamina, or his attributes jumped. He moved even faster than before. Better. Got us moving again. But his sword… The way it moved… I don’t even know how to describe it. It gave me the chills.”
She pursed her lips, considering her words. “Like I said, the two of you are making something amazing. I shudder to imagine how strong he’s going to be a year from now. But that thing… Whatever it was, that deadness in his eyes. That viciousness of his sword. You need to be careful with it. You need to make sure that it doesn’t take him in the end, or your party, when you most need him.”
Row turned back to Kur, who was watching Nar. His eyes shone with intent, with thoughts both intelligent and bordering the insane. It occurred to her that as much as she had warned him about Nar, what should she say of the man that had put together such a party? Such an unlikely and yet incredibly powerful party?
Nothing. For she knew nothing of him. And he had let nothing slip. In the face of surprise, pressure and death, Kur had kept composed, leading them onwards to success.
She was as drawn towards him and his party, as she was just as uneasy.
We all have our reasons to Climb, she thought.
Perhaps the problem lay with that. She knew why everyone of her party members had decided to Climb. She knew their attributes, their skills, their strengths and weaknesses. Hers was the right way. The only way.
But here was Kur. She had a feeling, no, a certainty, that Kur did not know why his party members had chosen to leave their cubeplant. That he did not know the full extent of their skills and attributes either. That a veil of secrecy and privacy had been maintained in the party somehow, throughout all this time they had been Climbing together.
To her, that meant only one thing. Kur had not asked, so that he would not be asked the same question in return. A manager brat like her, and a skilled one for all intents and purposes, with a bright and clear progression path ahead of him? Why was he even there?
She had been open with her group. She had demanded truth and honesty and she had given it first. Her path had been blocked by a sick man with sick tastes, and no one to stand up to him or for her except Tun. The only reason she would’ve kept it quiet was if she was ashamed, embarrassed, or guilty. And she was none of those. Some nobody with an overinflated ego would neither dim nor block her brilliance and potential, and she had turned her back on it all to forge herself a new path.
She left behind friends who had failed her, family who had betrayed her, and a place that had spit on all her effort and hard work. Only Tun had followed her…
So no, she was not ashamed, embarrassed or guilty. And she had made everyone in her party know that neither were they.
But Kur?
He didn’t look like the type to be embarrassed. Which left the other two.
Shame or guilt, which one was it? Maybe it was both. Afterall, they commonly came walking hand in hand.
The more she talked with him and his party, the more she looked at him, the more and more she was certain that there were several things very wrong with their party. There were secrets, there were things hidden from one another that should have been known to all. And yet, it worked. Somehow, it all worked.
Despite all the cons she saw, she couldn’t help but feel that she and her people would be safe with Kur’s party. That she could trust them with her life. That they would pull through, no matter the situation, no matter the odds
It was like they stood in defiance of the Crystal Itself, people who should not have come this far, but had, and who would go on till the very end.
And beyond…
The words tumbled out of her mouth before she even realized what she was saying.
“Do you want to Climb together?”
He stared at her, too stunned to speak. Her face turned redder than her hair.
“I meant, our parties, together, we would be so strong! We worked really well together, and it would really make it easier for the rest of the way up. Think about it. Sleep on it. Ask your party. Just… Just think about it.”
Kur regarded the red-haired leader in front of him. He didn’t want to say or show just how tempting that offer was. And yet…
He nodded. “I’ll think of it. I’ll see what the others think as well.”
Row nodded furiously.
“Good. Good! Now, there was something else I was curious about, if you don’t mind me asking…”