As I tread along the surface of the muck, my eyes wander up towards the above, where I see the shine of the bright, fake-morning light pierce through the distant surface of the water. Yet none of the rays ever seem to reach down far enough to touch me. Lifting a hand, I raise it upwards, grasping for one of the sun-beams. But the soft touch of the light never quite seems to reach me, it always seems to fade and die away, vanishing into the murk of the ocean just inches away before ever getting close to wrap itself around my gauntlet.

  A slimy hand pokes itself out of my armor, pressing through the water as she climbs up my arm to lift herself up, to touch the beam of sunlight for me. I watch as her fingers spin through the water and interrupt the shine from above as she grasps it.

  That makes me feel better. Thanks, I nod to her and she nods back, bubbling excitedly as she stays there for a moment, feeling the warmth of the light seep through her body. Interestingly enough, I notice that her tinge is slowly starting to return to its aquamarine shimmer. Watching her, I look as she absorbs the water around her and ejects any of the grime and guck that we’ve picked up on the way back out of her slime, until eventually she returns to the same pristine jewel-like shimmer that I found her in. A strand of thick, golden honey, still left over, drifts away.

Sensing that I’m watching her, she looks down and clutches her cheeks, embarrassed, before quickly returning back into my armor a second later.

  Two soapy, yellow eyes poke out of my neck a moment after, watching the way forward together with me, as I continue walking along the surface of the ocean. It’s a good thing I don’t need to breathe and neither does she. Slimes aren’t underwater creatures, per se, but she can make do for now.

“So what’s the first thing you want to do?” I ask her, trying to make some small-talk while we walk. It’s a big ocean, you know? “When we get out of the dungeon?”

  Her body sloshes around inside of my armor for a while, I suppose as she thinks, or perhaps as she absorbs my thoughts and tries to pick out the ones that she herself likes the most. They grow up so fast.

  “I wanna make friends!” she says excitedly and I nod. That’s a nice goal, I suppose. I roll my shoulders, feeling some of the muck and the gunk of this life wash off my own body as well. The gentle current, present at the bottom of the ocean, pressing through my armor, carrying off chunks of mud and red. It’ll never really get clean again, but it’s as clean as its going to get, given the circumstances. Much to my delight, I feel the current lifting my cape and pulling it back a little, raising it as if it were caught in a dramatic wind. Thanks ocean! The ocean nods back to me reaffirmingly.

I think I’ve had enough of friends though, honestly.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

She bubbles sadly. Ah, no. You don’t count. She bubbles even sadder. No, I mean, ugh… you count as a friend, okay? But I don’t want any more friends afterwards. I don’t think so at least.

“But friends are nice!” she says. “Once upon a time there was you and me!”

  I feel like that story was a horrible example of friendship? Friends are too much work and they just get in the way and die and then I feel sad. I’d rather not bother. It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s just me anyways. It’s always just been me. So I’m used to it. If it has always just been me, then it can always be just me and everything will be fine because it’s just like it is now. If there’s nothing I can lose, if there’s nothing that can be taken away from me, then I can never fall back down into the dungeon. Real or metaphorical. I’ll be free.

Free.

  “Isn’t that kind of sad?” asks the slime, squishing around as she plays with my fingers, pressing herself into the inside of my gauntlet to move them around and to tap the shaft of the lance as if I were antsy and itching for a fight.

  “Eh, you get used to it,” I tell her, shrugging and she bubbles, not satisfied with my answer. Sorry, your big brother is kind of lame. But I just got burnt out a long time ago and I think I’m just kind of… tired.

I stop, scratching my chin as I think. What an odd thought. Was that a weird thing to think? I guess not, she doesn’t seem to mind. Hmm… shrugging indifferently, I keep walking.

  “There’s something I’ve forgotten,” says the slime, reading my thoughts. Though she seems to be just as curious and unsure as she speaks, as if she herself doesn’t know what it is that we’ve forgotten.

“Was it something about lizards?” I ask.

“No…”

“Crabs?”

“Mm… no,” she says, unsure.

“Was it something important?” I ask.

“I dunno.”

“Ugh… uh…”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm…” she mimics.

  We continue walking along the ocean floor, over to the other side of the dungeon-floor as we both try to recall what it is that I’ve forgotten. But I don’t think either of us are going to manage. Whatever shadow it is that we both just felt, present in the back corner of my mind, is far and distant now. Vague, as if a silhouette illuminated only by a brief flash of starlight on a cloudy, moonless night. I wouldn’t worry about it too much, just let it go. Let it drift away like it’s gunk. You don’t need to hold on to every single memory, right? If they were really happy memories, then I wouldn’t forget them.

If -

If…

  I narrow my eyes looking around, as there is a disturbance in the water. But what is it? What do I see? The current shifts and twists, as something interrupts the flow. Something massive that moves through the darkness, a thousand things that move together in unison. A thousand tiny, skittering little legs that pull on a thousand more behind them, as the darkness shifts.

As it skitters.

  Gripping my lance, I watch cautiously as a silhouette approaches from the side, walking along the surface of the ocean like me. Her tousled, strawberry-blonde hair floating lazily in the drifting water, giving her an appearance almost similar to the fairy of the fountain. Her white-robe, soaked to the bone. Tilting my head, I look down, because you know that I have to, guy. I can’t help myself, okay?

Black lace? Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you, priestess. Good for you! Bad choice of swimming attire though.

  The priestess’ body shifts and twists as her form moves in an unnatural fashion, as the sound of skittering fills the world. She stands always vaguely in the distance, no matter how fast I walk towards her. Always her front half facing towards me, her back always vaguely in the darkness of the crushing depths, always just out of my sight as it skitters.

“What are you doing here?” I ask the thing that skitters, realizing now that it has been pretending to be the priestess this whole time, as it walked with the hero-party, as it fought with them against me.

The ‘priestess’ looks up to me and opens her mouth to speak.

Nothing comes out but skittering.