Hadespera

The 26th of Elaphebolion

The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals

The climb out of Hekáte’s Vivitorium was long and arduous. Abraxios, still holding the map Arche had drawn, took the front of the company and led them out. Most of the traps were already sprung but a few still caused minor injuries. Nothing that Odelia’s biomancy couldn’t patch up.

Callias, on the other hand, was left to deal with his injuries. During unconscious states, the village guards dragged him along by his arms, but as he regained consciousness, they made him walk. He’d been stripped of all weapons and armor and had been gagged with a dirty cloth to stop his whining threats.

The first step out into the forest was blinding. Arche stumbled, one hand covering his eyes, the other gripping the Tridory. The sun was directly overhead and even partially obscured by the foliage, it was too bright. The air was fresh and a slight breeze wafted flowery scents toward him. Every single aspect of it, even the painful ones, made him grateful to no longer be underground. It also came with a notification.

Dungeoneer,

You have fought your way through the depths of Hekáte’s Vivitorium, but you have not delved through all the depths have to offer.

Your dungeoneering experience has been modified to reflect this.

Dungeoneering has increased to Level 11.

+1% Chance of spotting hidden areas (+11%)

+1% Chance of spotting hidden enemies (+11%)

+1% Chance of spotting traps (+11%)

+1 Perception

+1 Luck

You have reached the Novice rank in Dungeoneering.

You gain 100 experience.

Murmurs rose from the gathered villagers. Arche wasn’t the only one to receive dungeoneering experience from the venture, though his group had probably received the most. The trek out had taken the better part of six hours. For Arche, it had been the worst six hours of travelling in his life. Death Sickness drained his Stamina even during light activity, such as walking slightly uphill. Much of the trip had devolved into a panting mess. More than once he had to stop to vomit for no reason other than his organs trying to strangle him from the inside. Odelia had told him there was nothing she could do for his condition, though he’d refused to tell her exactly what it was, and even the rejuvenating powers of five consecutive level ups couldn’t overcome Death Sickness.

Once outside, the whole company took the opportunity to sit and rest. Arche was grateful for the break. His Stamina had hovered at ten percent for the last twenty minutes. He had twenty-five points to allocate now that he was leveling again but he couldn’t concentrate enough to think about where to spend them. Now that there was time to take a breath, he could feel the past few days catching up with him.

Arche had never felt so tired.

He lowered himself to the ground and leaned his back against a tree. He pulled at the collar of his shirt beneath his jerkin, trying to give his throat some room. He felt stuffy, overly warm, and the whole ordeal was making it difficult to breathe. Why was breathing so hard? It came out jagged and raspy. Sweat poured from him, even more now than when he’d been walking. His heart hammered in his chest. Heat flooded his body one moment, ice the next. Arche clenched his fists but he couldn’t feel them. His heart was so loud, in his chest and in his head, at any moment it would burst. His vision blurred and the forest fell away from him.

He had no weapons, no defenses. He was so tired. The axe was coming. It sank into his chest. Pressing into him slowly, intimately, as the grinning faces of the beastmar champion looked down on him in triumph. His ribs cracked. The axe took its pound of flesh from his lungs, his heart. His blood spilled across the floor. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t breathe. His lungs collapsed, blood filling them, filling everything. He couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, couldn’t breathe. There was only the axe sinking into his chest, killing him. Taking his life from him. Slicing his heart in two.

“Arche.”

Alone. Dark and cold. The cold of the axe froze his skin as it pushed through bone. The heads of Eten and Nete grinned at him. Taunting him. Jeering at him. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t do anything. He could only die. He was going to die. He was going to die.

“Arche, look at me.”

His throat was in a vice. Eten’s grip around it cut off all airflow. His blood pulsed against the beastmar’s grip, weak and fading. Arche’s hands scrabbled at his throat, trying to loosen the grip, desperate for air. Something grabbed his hands, held them firm.

“Look at me. You’re all right. I’m here with you. Tell me where you are.”

“He’s killing me. Oh, god. Help me…please.”

Just speaking was painful. His throat was closed tight and the words came no louder than a whisper. The axe pressed into him, spilling his lifeblood over the ground.

“No one is killing you, Arche. Look around you, you’re safe.”

“I don’t want to die.” Tears ran down his cheeks. “Please, I don’t want to die.”

“You’re safe, Arche. I’m not going to let that happen. Focus on me. Feel the world around you. You’re safe.”

Arche shut his eyes tight and tried to focus. Grass beneath him tickled his elbows. Soft hands held his arms, keeping him steady. He opened his eyes and blinked rapidly. His vision was blurry and his throat was sore and dry.

“Water, please,” he croaked.

A waterskin pressed into his hands a moment later and he took a long, grateful pull from it.

“Thank you, I…I don’t know what happened.”

He wiped his eyes and saw Tess sitting in front of him. She took the waterskin back from him and drank a swig herself before stowing it in her inventory.

“In the city, they called it ‘the Panik.’ Mostly, it strikes the soldiers, but it can hit anyone who’s suffered.”‍‍

“I thought I was dying, again. I could feel that axe sinking into my chest, over and over. God, I must sound pathetic.”

“It’s not pathetic at all. You…you died. Not even the greatest healers can reverse death but you came back, somehow. That’s twice now.”

Arche glanced at the clearing around them. Other villagers were milling about, a few were casting glances his way. He met their eyes and they looked away, pretending they had seen nothing.

“Not here,” he whispered. “Thank you, but not here.”

Tess nodded.

“Are you ready to stand?”

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“Yeah, I think so.”

He let her pull him to his feet. Once there, she handed him the Tridory. He took it from her, leaning into it like a staff. As he did, he brought up his active debuffs. Still another six hours left before Death Sickness faded.

“Ready for our triumphant return?” Tess asked.

Arche checked his Stamina, seeing that it was barely over fifty percent despite the rest.

“Yeah, let’s go run our victory lap.”

The procession set off for the village. The going was slow, but they made the trip in under two hours. Any animals or monsters they may have encountered were scared off by the large gathering of people, something Arche was grateful for, as he was in no condition to fight. He wanted to sleep off the rest of the effects of Death Sickness, take a bath, and get something hot to eat, and not necessarily in that order.

As they broke through the treeline of the forest and saw the burlap tents that made up the majority of the fledgling village, a ragged cry went up. Arche’s grip tightened around the Tridory and he looked around for beastmar, but instinct gave way to understanding as he realized it was a cheer, not an alarm. Around him, people ran, glad to be home. The former prisoners, especially, cheered as they ran. It was a wall of noise and Arche found it difficult to recognize it for what it was. If there was no danger, then why was his heart beating so? Why were the knuckles of his right hand white against the dark metal of the Tridory? Why was he waiting for the first arrow to fly?

People flooded out of the village to meet them. Backs were clapped, cheers were raised, and music began to play. The villagers who stayed had started preparing a feast, waiting for the triumphant return of the fighters. It was an optimistic reaction. They could just as easily all been killed, how were they laughing and smiling now? For that matter, how had they been able to feast after the attack on the village? Had everyone gone mad? Or was he the mad one? Arche caught sight of a familiar satyr amid the throng.

“Helwan!”

“Arche, you made it! Lyssa and Tess as well, oh my! This is wonderful, I’m so glad you’re all right. When Odelia and Abraxios returned asking for aid, I feared the worst, but I should have known better! Nothing can defeat you three when you set your minds. Nothing!”

The excitable satyr dragged them over to a table, pouring each of them a goblet of wine. Arche sank into the seat gratefully. He was still sweating from exertion and his Stamina was dangerously low, but at least he wasn’t walking any more. Lyssa excused herself and went over to Vik and his crew, exchanging hushed words and gesturing toward Callias.

Vik scratched his chin and said something, waving one hand in the air dramatically. Lyssa scrunched up her face, nodded once, then turned and made her way back.

“What was that about?” Arche asked.

“Just handling a situation,” she replied, then muttered quietly, “and making a new one in the process.”

“What?”

“Later.”

Arche shrugged and put it out of his mind. If it was a problem, it could wait. There was food on the table and it called to him, whispering the siren song of freshly baked bread, finely roasted meat, succulent fruits, and the delicious crunch of fresh vegetables. His stomach gurgled, twisting itself with greed and gluttony. His earlier plan of sleep and bathing was banished from his mind as the smell of it reached him.

He reached out to grab a plate, then saw that his arm was covered in dried, dark blood. The magic of leveling had cleaned him, but it had done nothing to clean the Tridory. Walking all the way back to the village with the bloodied spear had gotten him filthy, again. With a forlorn sigh, he stood from the table.

“All right, I’m gonna go clean up.”

His stomach protested every step away from food as he walked to the river, making sure to stay well downstream. They needed plumbing, some sort of running water. Really what they needed was houses, but plumbing was surely next. Having to go to the river every time he needed a wash was getting damned inconvenient.

Arche waded into the cool waters without bothering to remove his clothing. All of him needed washing so he would sit and soak for a while. The current was strong and steady but he was in no danger of being swept away so long as he stayed near the bank, where it was shallow enough to stand. After he’d rinsed his face and washed blood out of his hair, he removed his leather jerkin. Little more than shreds remained, the scraps hardly worth the salvage. He tossed it onto the bank, not bothering to clean it.

His shirt, similarly, was also in tatters, but it was the only one he had with him, so he tried to get the blood out by scraping over it with river stones. The following day he’d have to find one of the fabric traders and buy some new clothing. With any luck, his mantikhoras armor would be ready, as well. He couldn’t help but wonder if any of his injuries would have been prevented if he’d had his new armor down in Hekáte’s Vivitorium. His cloak removed its own stains, making it the only thing he had that remained spotless.

In the monotony of the task in front of him, and to distract him from his gurgling stomach, he went through the rest of his pending notifications.

Spearmanship has increased to Level 17.

+2% Damage with Spears (+34%)

Spear Throwing has increased to Level 9.

+3% Accuracy of Thrown Spears (+27%)

+2% Range of Thrown Spears (+18%)

Swordsmanship has increased to Level 15.

+2% Damage with Swords (+30%)

Unarmed Combat has increased to Level 8.

+2% Damage while Unarmed (+16%)

+0.5% Natural Armor (+4%)

Light Armor has increased to Level 11.

+2% Defense with Light Armor (+22%)

You have reached the Novice Rank in Light Armor.

You gain 100 experience.

When he could recognize the color of his skin, Arche got out of the river. The scum had already been swept far downstream, leaving the waters blue and unfettered. His distorted reflection stared back at him. Making the details of his face hard to pin down. He touched his left hand to his cheek, feeling the raised scars, but they were slightly less prominent. His hand fell to his chest, where Eten and Nete’s axe had split his chest. The wound itself was gone, healed by whatever Thanatos had done to return him to life and cleansed by the regenerative powers of five consecutive levels. Still, he was left with a large purple scar.

“Thought you’d still be here.”

Arche turned to see Tess standing next to the riverbed, a plate of food and a bottle of wine in her hands.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” Arche threw on his still soaked and torn shirt.

“Good. Then eat quickly. There’s some announcement about to happen. Lyssa wouldn’t tell me much about it. She didn’t seem particularly happy about the situation but she also said, ‘the concern is hers to bear.’ Whatever that means.”

Arche grunted.

“Think we should be worried?”

“Maybe? Probably? I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can worry about it plenty tomorrow.”

“You’re right.” He took a large bite of the food, grilled meat stuffed inside fresh bread. “Thank you for the food, you didn’t have to.”

“I know.” She smirked at him and his heart skipped a beat, almost making him choke on the bread. “Don’t think that I’m counting this as our dinner. It’s private, yes, but you also said it was going to be nice and I plan on holding you to that.”

“I’m just glad you still want to go after…” Arche made a vague gesture with his hands.

“I haven’t forgiven you for manhandling me like that but I’ve decided to let you make it up to me.”

“Oh?” Arche raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly am I going to do that?”

“I suppose you’re going to have to use your imagination.”

Arche chuckled. Tess graced him with a smile, then gestured at the food.

“Oh, before I forget, I brought you a change of clothes. Can’t exactly have you looking like you lost a fight with an angry badger.”

“You should see the badger.”

Arche took the clothes, then paused.

“Are you going to turn around, or…?”

“I thought I said to make it up to me.” Tess pouted, eyes gleaming with mischief as she turned her back.

Arche unequipped his old clothing and quickly threw on the new garments. They were warm and comfortable, and slightly familiar.

“Are these my clothes?”

“Yeah, you left them at my tent a few days ago, when we first met, if you recall.”

“You kept them?”

“What was I supposed to do, throw them in the river? I was going to give them back, now I have. Come on, we’re going to be late.”

Arche shoveled in the last few bites and they made their way back toward the feast, walking in step. Hands almost touching.