1
It was the dawn of another day, marking the thirty-first day of their travels. The sound of the wheels grinding against the ground accompanied the sighs and snores of the carriage's occupants.
It wasn’t a bother at this point, not after such a long journey together. Everyone was peacefully sleeping—everyone but a lone woman in the corner of the carriage, hugging her knees and gazing through the gap in the curtains, watching the last stars fade before the new day began.
Slowly, a soft groan came from beside her, and a head full of pale hair emerged from the blankets.
“Mnn… Mandeln? Awake again?” Came a muffled voice.
“Yes, I just wanted to pay my respects to the stars before their work is done,” Mandeln said, watching with amazement as her companion’s long ears lazily twitched, just like the head they were attached to. “You should rest a bit more, Fichte. It’ll be difficult to find such peaceful sleep from now on.”
“Of course I will,” Fichte murmured, turning her back and burying her head in the blankets once more. “You should do the same. It’ll be very hectic when we arrive.”
“I guess you’re right,” Mandeln said as she lay down and covered herself with a soft, warm blanket. “…Are you nervous, Fichte?”
No response. Yet another thing she found fascinating about her traveling companion in the short month they’ve known each other—no matter where they were, Fichte seemed to fall asleep instantly if she wished to. Something Mandeln was very jealous of.
Today’s the day, Mandeln thought, gripping her blankets in excitement. Just a bit more.
Suddenly, a jolt shook the entire carriage, followed by a loud thump right beside Mandeln.
“Oww! That hurts!” Fichte cursed, wriggling in her spot.
“Are you okay in there?” Mandeln asked, lifting the blankets to see where Fichte had curled up, clutching her head. “I told you, road bumps are no joke. That’s why you use pillows while sleeping.”
“Yeah, yeah, thanks for nothing,” Fichte grumbled, wiping the tears from her eyes.
The sound of the other passengers shushing the complaining girl, along with Mandeln’s quiet giggles, marked the start of the new day.
The sun was already high in the sky when the convoy stopped at its final resting spot atop a hill. The staff hurriedly moved to prepare food for their important guests, while the passengers in the carriages further back weren’t as fortunate, having to assemble their own meals.
Near the slope overlooking their destination, Mandeln finally saw a cluster of houses and buildings in the distance—a small mining town called Schritt, the closest settlement to…
“Look, Fichte, look!! Over there near the mountain range! It’s the real thing! It’s Ätherisch, Fichte! Ätherisch!!” Mandeln beamed as she pointed and shook Fichte’s shoulders.
“Shouldn’t you be more excited about what's after it?” Fichte said, trying to see where Mandeln was pointing to.
“Are you for real?” Mandeln said, raising her eyebrows. “It’s a dungeon! An actual dungeon! Not those look-alikes we saw on our way here.”
“If with that,” Fichte interjected, “You mean the time we had to look for you for an entire day in those ruins then—”
“Did you know that Ätherisch is one of the few fully explored dungeons?” Mandeln continued, playing with her hair. “It’s so ancient we can’t even estimate its origin. Scholars have matched construction patterns to one of the four big civilizations before the goddess appeared—the only civilization we can’t identify by name yet! At the time, it was filled with treasures and lost-to-time items, as well as a ton of Specters, Banshees, wisps, and skeletons going about as if they were still alive! Then, when Fest the Iron, the legendary Raider, finally managed to reach the deepest part of the dungeon, the last tomb was guarded by none other than a…”
And we lost her, Fichte—and everyone else who had traveled with the overly excited girl—thought at the same time. She just sighed, watching Mandeln's flushed cheeks as she spoke excitedly. Somehow, I feel my reasons for being here are so selfish compared to hers.
If there was something certain, it was that Mandeln loved dungeons as much as Fichte loved gems and money. Fichte hadn’t known Mandeln for long, but the moment they were paired together for this trip, it took no time for Mandeln to open up about her passions—her love of dungeons and magic, and how she was inspired when she was rescued by a knight as a child, who personally chose a magic staff for her, leaving such a strong impression that she decided to escape and become an adventurer.
Paying respects to the stars, my buttocks, Fichte laughed to herself, thinking of that morning’s exchange. You were just so excited this past week that you couldn’t sleep!
Without novelty, the girls arrived at Schritt.
It was what one would expect from a mining settlement—simple houses, and rugged people hardened by their work who didn’t do more than just nod if you greeted them. But for Mandeln, it was a source of endless wonders, especially with the town’s economy dependent on what came in and out of that imposing dungeon in the distance.
By evening, the caravan had dispersed, and the girls immediately went to an inn to reserve their rooms.
“Haa! I’m beat!” Mandeln exclaimed as she threw herself onto the bed, a faint floral scent lingering from the bath she had just taken. The bed felt like floating on clouds after so much time on the road, making even the usually restless Mandeln feel like she could sleep well past sunrise.
“Be sure to leave the door locked, okay?” Fichte said while leaning in the doorway. “This town doesn’t give me good vibes.”
“Nothing gives you good vibes, Fichte,” Mandeln said, rolling on her bed. “We can sleep together if you’re scared.”
“I’ll pass,” Fichte waved. “I’m more tired than suspicious. Just make sure to wake up early tomorrow; we still have a lot to take care of.”
“Okaaay~” Mandeln yawned lazily from her covers, feeling the world slip away her senses.
As expected, Mandeln slept way past sunrise, her room completely unlocked.
Fichte was nearly finished with her breakfast when Mandeln arrived in the dining room, her clothes all disheveled. She ran towards Fichte, who was in the middle of a conversation with someone.
“I-I’m so sorry for oversleeping!” Mandeln said, trying to fix her bed hair without much success.
“No worries,” Fichte said dismissively. “I expected this to happen, so I’m almost done with the talking.”
“Uuu…” Mandeln moaned as she sat down and took a bite of some fruit from the table. Ashamed, she turned towards the other person at the table. “I’m sorry too, Aika…”
“No problem!” The new girl said cheerfully. “I also expected this, so I ordered more food. Ah, it’s here. Now eat, eat!”
“Gh!” Mandeln cringed and kept eating, her ears lowered. “Thank you…”
“Anyway,” Fichte interjected, bringing the conversation back to the topic. “We really owe you one, Aika. It was difficult enough to get here, so having the guide stuff already sorted out is a huge help.”
There were only two reasons people visited Schritt, and it was either to pass through on their way to the great highway or to enter Ätherisch. So, while not everyone in the caravan was looking to cross Ätherisch, they were lucky enough to get in contact with a couple of adventurers and share some tips, as well as making good relations with people like Aika, a traveling merchant who knew a guide in town that could help them cross the dungeon safely.
“You sure you don’t want to cross with us?” Fichte offered. “We’d be pleased to travel with you a bit longer.”
“That’s fine, that’s fine!” Aika grinned while grabbing her pigtails. “I’ve got a ton of stuff to unload before doing business across all of Herrenlos. So, it’s fine—I’ll just wait for the next group to cross, alright? With that said…”
Aika stood up as quickly as she usually did while they were traveling.
“Oh, leaving already?” Mandeln said, now munching on some almonds. “Be sure to find us when you cross, okay? Please take care.”
“Of course! May destiny find you well, bye byeee!” Aika waved as she went her way out of the inn.
“I really like that phrase,” Mandeln said as her eyes followed Aika through the main door. “It almost sounds like magic, so cool!”
“…Aren’t you a mage? In any case, our main problem is solved, and with that out of the way,” Fichte said as she organized her notes and pointed to a lone paper with a list of items written on it. “W e just need to prepare for the last stretch. According to the calendar, our guide departed yesterday, so we should expect him back in about a week.”
“Straight to business I see,” Mandeln nodded and got up. “Alright, there’s no better time than the present—let’s hit the stores right away!”
“But what about your breakfast?” Fichte asked, finishing the last bite of her bread.
Mandeln was already rushing toward the door Aika had passed through less than five minutes ago. “I’ll just grab something on the way. Come on!”
With a sigh, Fichte stood up, waved at the inn’s staff, and calmly followed her outside.
The market was bustling with life when the girls arrived at the central plaza. Peddlers left and right offered their wares straight from Herrenlos at the other side of Ätherisch. This abundance of goods was part of the reason it took them some time to arrive, as Mandeln kept getting distracted.
“Listen, Fichte,” Mandeln said while chewing some dry meat she bought from a stall. “Ätherisch might be fully explored, but it is still a proper, honest-to-goddess dungeon. As such, we must prepare just in case something happens. The trip will take us four days on foot, so first, we must secure enough food and water.”
“You can cast water magic, right? Why buy more?” Fichte asked with genuine curiosity. It didn’t make sense to her—after all, with magic, you basically have an endless water supply. Yet Mandeln always drank from natural sources.
“Drinking magic-produced water is bad for your health; it’s akin to drinking seawater,” Mandeln explained. “It can be done if needed, but it disrupts the body just as much as it does to produce it. Not to mention, I’d rather save my energy in case a real threat appears.”
“I see, that’s a good point,” Fichte noted in her parchment. “Then let’s order food in advance so we can pick it up the night before we depart—that way, it won’t spoil.”
“Ooh! Good thinking! I was planning to freeze them but that sounds better,” Mandeln nodded excitedly. “We also need some more supplies! Ätherisch is a catacomb, so I need to restock on silver powder, Bursera leaves, and some blank scrolls just in case.”
“Blank scrolls, got it,” Fichte said while scribbling down the list. “Are you sure this is your first dungeon?”
“Hey, did you forget already?” Mandeln chided. “This is my second dungeon.”
“Of course I remember,” Fichte said. “Anybody would if they’re told the same story every three days. You fell in a dungeon, and this Saufer guy got you out of it.”
“And fought a hideous beast!” Mandeln added happily, swallowing her food. “Anyway, we also need weapons. Our guide will probably be well-armed, but we should have something to defend ourselves.”
“I have a couple of daggers I use for self-defense in my travels,” Fichte said, unsheathing one from her waist and letting the silvery blade catch the sunlight. “They’ve served me well over the years.”
“Nice, I can bless them so it can harm the undead if you want.” Mandeln nodded. “A dagger, huh, maybe I should get one too…”
“No thanks,” Fichte stuck out her tongue, remembering Mandeln's description of ghouls. “You can already deal with them no problem. That said, are you sure you can afford all of this? You’re going to spend a pretty penny at this rate.”
“No problem at all!” Mandeln barked joyfully and stopped in her tracks. “I’ve thought of everything.”
“What are you—” Fichte began, her words trailing off as she read the sign in front of her. “A pawnshop? That bag you’re carrying… Are you going to sell your luggage!?”
“That’s the adventurer’s way, travel light and long!” Mandeln cheered while walking inside. “Not that I can carry all this stuff in a dungeon anyway. Just a change of clothes will do.”
This girl lives the day and then realizes there’s another one, huh? Fichte thought while entering the pawn shop.
The sun was already setting by the time their shopping was done. There were some small things to arrange yet, but most essentials were ready to go. Mandeln’s luggage fetched a far higher price than Fichte ever expected, and even with all that buying spree, Mandeln’s pocket was still healthy with gold.
Just who is this girl? Fichte wondered, though she wasn’t the type to pry into people’s pasts.
Still, Mandeln thought of everything, that’s for sure. Fichte said to herself while regarding her companion carrying a bunch of objects she had no idea what they were for. Looks can be deceiving for sure.
When Fichte met Mandeln a bit more than a month ago, just before they took the caravan to Schritt, they were paired by chance at an inn that had run out of space, so they ended up sharing a room. Mandeln, incredibly sociable, managed to get even the reserved Fichte to open up a bit in just one night.
Fichte was apprehensive about letting Mandeln travel alone, and you couldn’t blame her. Mandeln seemed like the very picture of a sheltered lady discovering the world for the first time. On the other hand, Fichte had a lot more experience with traveling, so she couldn’t help but take Mandeln under her care, despite having her own affairs to attend to.
Those fluffy ears of hers didn’t help either. Fichte cursed under her breath and glanced at Mandeln’s tail sway gracefully.
Truth be told, Mandeln was a very capable mage, with vast knowledge of ancient buildings and holy magic. And on top of that, she now wielded a brand-new dagger at her waist.
“Hey, Mandeln,” Fichte said, pointing at the dagger. “I didn’t want to say it at the blacksmith’, but that’s a weird dagger for sure—it doesn’t even have an edge.”
“Oho? Curious?” Mandeln smiled smugly while pulling her brand-new weapon and letting her shine on the golden rays of the sunset. “This type of dagger is called a Misericorde. Old legends sing the tales of a civilization of fierce, yet gallant warriors who used these to honor their mortally wounded enemies with a coup de grâce strike, granting them a quick, honorable death.”
Fichte couldn’t help but marvel at the mental image forming in her mind. As she looked more closely at the weapon, with its intricate decorations and the rich history behind its design, that’s the type of story anyone would feel inspired by.
“So did you buy it to honor that tradition?” Fichte asked excitedly. “Or does it have a deeper, magical purpose!?”
“…Oh,” Mandeln said, putting her dagger away with an awkward expression. “Err, no, I just thought it was cool, so I bought it.”
That night, Fichte didn’t show up for dinner, and Mandeln had to apologize the following day.
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The week passed quietly aside from Fichte’s efforts to stop Mandeln from obliterating her savings on magic items.
On the sixth day of their stay in Schritt, the guide Aika had mentioned finally returned to town. He was a tall human named Jujur, a retired Raider who had made a name for himself in the area. After a brief meeting with the girls, they agreed to meet at the west exit in two days.
The night before the big day, Mandeln sat by the window in her room. Everything was in order and ready for their departure the next day—everything except her heart, that is. She felt it beating strongly with nervousness, unable to calm down.
Becoming a Raider was one of the few desires she had held since childhood. As for the reason, it is almost silly, charmed by a telltale-like story, yet it was powerful enough to drive her to cross entire countries in pursuit of her dream.
And now that she stood before the literal gateway to her dreams, so close she could almost smell it... was she getting cold feet?
Nonsense! she thought. Even if I chickened out, it’s not like I have a plan B or anywhere to return to. There’s no way but forward now.
She slipped into her bed, still trying to calm herself, but the more she tried, the harder it was to stop fidgeting between her bed sheets.
Why was she like this? Was it just nerves, or something deeper? Or could it be the nagging sensation that she was supposed to be doing something else, and yet she chose selfishness?
“Sigh… I hope Father is okay,” Mandeln whispered to herself.
Her parting hadn’t been sweet or heartwarming. Quite the opposite—she hadn’t even been able to bid farewell the night she was forcefully pulled away by one of her father’s retainers in a chaotic mix of steel and fire. She was left only with whatever she could grab, with strict orders to never go back.
That was two years ago, and now she was too far away for even her thoughts to reach the family she had left behind.
Still, albeit unplanned, she had finally experienced what she had desperately wanted ever since that afternoon when a gallant knight rescued her at the tender age of ten, taking her on an adventure and gifting her a staff just a bit too big for her, even today. Since then, she had craved a life of travel and adventure, surrounded by comrades she could trust. And now, she was finally about to experience what she had only admired in books and tales: dungeons.
The trembling of her hands suddenly grew stronger, and the beating of her heart took on a bittersweet note. With a long sigh, Mandeln slipped deeper into her bed, trying to find sleep. As the image of that knight filled her mind the moment she closed her eyes, Mandeln eventually drifted off, wondering where he could be.
The sun hadn't even shown when Jujur arrived at the west exit. The girls were already there, fully equipped for travel. He nodded in satisfaction as he regarded Mandeln’s light yet practical outfit, but then he noticed the taller girl of the two.
“…That won’t do,'' The old man said, pointing at Fichte. “You’re carrying too much. Going light and fast is key in a dungeon. What happens if you get attacked suddenly? Can you even dodge or run?”
“I told you!” Mandeln protested, tugging at Fichte’s bags. “You should have sold everything as soon as we arrived!”
“As if I could!” Fichte kicked back. “I’m an artisan—how am I supposed to work without my tools and materials!?”
“Look,” The man sighed. “I can’t wait another day for you to solve things, so let me just carry one of your bags, and let’s be off…”
“O-okay, I’m sorry,” Fichte said, flushing slightly. Why am I feeling like a kid being reprimanded? I’m probably older than him…
As they walked in silence, Mandeln didn’t utter a word, which was rare since she usually starts talking before long about the most random topics she weirdly knew a lot about.
“Didn’t take you for a calm type, Mandeln.” Old man Jujur pointed out, making her jump with a start. “Are you nervous?”
In truth, Mandeln was anxious. It was a bit late, but she’d come to the realization she was about to enter a dungeon, and past that, the beginning of a new life. Everything felt just too real for someone who had spent most of her life dreaming. She was making a serious effort not to start running toward the mountain range in front of her.
“A-a little,” She admitted.
“Don’t be,” Jujur said reassuringly in his own stoic way. “Monsters rarely show up, and if they do, they’re just weaklings that can be dealt with easily.”
“A-are you serious!?” Mandeln asked, agitated. “They are!?”
“Yeah,” Jujur replied with a determined expression. “Rest assured that no scary thing will come for you.”
“Is… is that so…” Mandeln said with a thread of voice. “That’s… good.”
Satisfied with his exchange, Jujur turned forward and continued his march calmly.
Behind them Fichte was silent, feeling her cheeks warm with embarrassment. For Jujur, it might have seemed like a reliable adventurer assuring a timid girl, but Fichte knew better. She had spent almost every waking hour with that girl after all.
Stop it, Jujur, sir. I’m sorry, but you’re reading this in the absolutely wrong way. Fichte said in her heart while watching Mandeln, who was on the verge of tears. This girl will be devastated if no monsters show up.
It was past lunchtime when they arrived at a small settlement at the foot of the mountain. There, they were welcomed by an old couple who led them to one of the empty cabins available.
“We’ll sleep here and enter Ätherisch at dawn,” Jurur said. “You don't want to sleep in a dungeon more than once, that’s for sure.”
“My legs!!” Fichte groaned as she dropped into a chair. “How long did we walk, like six or seven hours?”
“And tomorrow’s gonna be an even longer journey, so make sure to get proper rest,” The old man advised before leaving the room. “I won’t be carrying you along with your baggage.”
“I can't believe it,” Fichte muttered while taking off her cloak and boots. “Come on, Mandeln, let's put something together to eat… Mandeln?”
Looking around she spotted Mandeln leaning against the window.
“There it is,” she said, her eyes glued on the mountain. “It's more imposing now that I’m looking at it from close up.”
“…It sure is,” Fichte replied, poking her head through the window. “Even in the craftsmen’s guild, this place comes up as a topic of conversation from time to time.”
A bit further from the settlement, barely covered by trees, Ätherisch was visible; its pale stone contrasted starkly with the dark rock of the mountain, and its towering columns loomed over everything around it. A tall wall full of windows covered the top of the entrance, and you could almost make out the shapes of people walking inside.
“Wait,” Fichte said. “Why are there people on the upper levels? Aren’t you supposed to mostly use the central level to cross it?”
“Considering there’s nothing of value up there either, they’re probably spirits,” Mandeln said nonchalantly. “Ancient souls of people who keep doing their thing as if they were alive.”
Fichte felt a shiver down her spine. Like any person who took the road, she had her stories dealing with those too close or far beyond the veil, and yet it never got easier for her. Maybe it was just her personality, but sometimes she wished life simply ended at one’s passing. Knowing there’s something more she couldn’t possibly understand frightens her—especially when those beings actively tried to take you with them.
“S-So we need to deal with them?” Fichte asked warily.
“No, spirits are mirages of peaceful souls,” Mandeln shook her head. “Specters, on the other hand, are spirits whose energy has been disrupted for some reason. Similar to when living beings die, if their energy gets corrupted past a certain point, a spirit’s energy can be disturbed beyond its natural limit, turning it into a Specter. They’re almost like dead souls.”
“Are they dangerous?” Asked Fichte, feeling a bit nervous. “Specters, I mean.”
“Oh yes, very much so,” Mandeln nodded, her eyes slightly shining as an involuntary grin spread across her face. “Dead souls seek life, trying to return to what they were before. They’re attracted to living things. They’re incorporeal, so you can’t damage them with normal weapons. They float, so you can’t hear them coming, and since Specters are basically corrupted energy, they can disturb your own internal frequency. Just a touch is enough to make you pass out, and a hug from a Specter is fatal.”
“Scary!” Fichte squealed. She had crafted talismans to ward off spirits, but she was just following what her master had taught her. She had no idea they were such dangerous creatures. “And this is supposed to be one of the easiest dungeons!?”
“However!” Mandeln giggled. “Specters are quite easy to handle if you know what you’re doing. They freeze the air, so you can detect them easily, and they move very slowly, so you can just outrun them. Our guide probably has some scrolls to fend them off, and holy magic makes fighting them a piece of cake—dealing with those things is right up my alley.”
“If you say so…” Fichte said, still not entirely convinced.
“Just a slight correction,” Mandeln added, raising a finger. “Ätherisch is not one of the easiest dungeons, but one of the safest. There’s a difference there.”
“And I hope it stays that way,” Fichte pouted. “No point in worrying about that right now. My hunger is dulling my survival skills, so do you want a bite or not?”
“Alright!” Mandeln barked happily.
As the afternoon went by, more travelers arrived and set camp nearby, among them you could see people with carriages and everything. By sunset, the entire camp was bustling with life. Food stands popped up near the exit, and peddlers offered all sorts of items and souvenirs. There was even a troubadour performing at the center, near a big bonfire. In a big tent, a group of nobles drank wine and laughed hysterically, trying to get a serious-looking man—probably their guide—to join in.
On the opposite side of the camp, a guide was bragging about his enormous power and hero status, swinging a sword so large it was clear it wasn’t designed for use in the narrow corridors of a dungeon.
Mandeln stood in shock at the commotion around her. Not even in her wildest dreams had she imagined that her journey to Ätherisch would begin like this.
“I guess this is what happens when a dungeon is fully explored,” she murmured to herself in confusion.
“Look, that guy is eating fire,” Fichte pointed out as a man picked up a narrow torch and put it in his mouth.
“Pfft,” Mandeln snorted. “That’s an elementary trick in the academy. If you treat me well, I might do it too.”
“I’m good,” Fichte replied instantly. “Still, isn’t everyone here a bit too relaxed right now?”
“I think the same,” Mandeln nodded. “A little bit of caution would be a good idea, especially when entering a dungeon, don’t you think?”
“That’s the right mindset,” Jujur said, who happened to overhear them. “It’s a shame what’s happened to Ätherisch in the last few years. The moment people realized they could make a pretty penny selling garbage to travelers, it didn’t take long for things to end up like this. Not even in my young years people were this unaware of the danger this place poses, there was cautious respect for the dungeon.”
“In any case,” He continued. “Just let the fools be fools. Now, come with me—we need to meet our group.”
If it wasn’t obvious already, most people traversing Ätherisch weren’t adventurers, Raiders, or had any experience in combat. As such, it was considered good practice to team up with other groups and combine the forces of those capable of fighting to minimize risks.
“I’m Fichte. An artisan, I’m afraid I might not be of much use on this trip, but I’ll do my best to not be a bother.”
“I-I-I’m Mandeln! A B-ranked mage versed in elemental magic and up to Adept level in holy magic. I love dungeons—pleased to meet you!”
“Uh… My name is Schützen of Caradia. I’m a vanguard, although I might not have much use against spirits…”
“Ha! An elf, a dungeon freak, and a noble! Nice. The name’s Önemsiz the Shining Arm, famous adventurer and wielder of a legendary magic axe. Sadly, ghosts can’t be damaged, so I guess I’ll depend on you, freaky missy! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
“Well, some of you know me already, but I’m Jujur, a retired Raider and the guide for these two girls. You can count on me and my colleagues to get you through this dungeon safely.”
After exchanging some pleasantries and organizing their roles inside the dungeon, they agreed to set out before sunrise in order to avoid the loud crowd. Everyone went to sleep early that night, despite the noise.
The chill morning air hit Mandeln in the face the moment she stepped out of her cabin, waking her up completely—a welcome feeling since she couldn’t get much sleep last night. She walked to the center of the settlement where most travelers were already gathered, discussing the final details before departure.
She joined her group, which consisted of about fifteen people in total.
“Ah, Mandeln, good morning. We were just talking about our positions,” Jujur said “Listen, you'll take the rear with me while my colleague leads at the front. Fichte, please group with the noncombatants and stay in the middle. Anyone who can use magic stays in the outer layer of the group just in case. Finally, raise the alarm as soon as you notice something’s amiss, no matter how small. Everything clear?”
“Y-yes!”
“…Okay.”
“As if I have a choice.”
“Haha! Let's do this!”
“Sorry, I overslept!”
Everyone turned around to look at the last member of the group. Wielding a greatsword and a sturdy shield, Schützen was lightly panting as he joined them.
“Hmm,” Jujur murmured while inspecting the boy. “You’ll take the lead with my colleague. Any questions?”
“None,” The boy said firmly, breadcrumbs still clung to the corners of his mouth.
“Great” Jujur nodded while surveying everyone one last time. Their expressions varied from nonchalant to frightened—a typical mix for trips like these. His eyes eventually landed on the small, dewy-eyed Mandeln.
“You sure want to do this?” Jujur said to the girl, who was barely holding her emotions in check.
“I-I want to see a Banshee so bad!” Mandeln nearly screamed.
“…I guess I judged you wrong.” Jujur sighed. “Alright everyone, let's go.”
And with that, the group began their march toward the mountains. In no time, they were standing before Ätherisch. The pale columns that had looked imposing from afar were now so tall up close that Mandeln had to bend her neck entirely to see the top.
“Academics theorize these columns were a metaphor for holding up the heavens,” Mandeln said while caressing the soft, marble-like stone. “Each one of these columns represents a certain school of magic, and the carvings depict the assigned god for each discipline.”
“Haha, this one looks like an orc.” A guy said, pointing at the next column.
“…Schützen, right?” Mandeln said flatly. “That one depicts the holy school of magic. Just pray the mighty god isn’t mad at you, or he may let a Specter embrace you in your sleep.”
“I-I’m sorry, holy god!” Schützen whimpered, putting his hands together. “I swear orcs are the best race!”
As they climbed the bronze stairs to the entrance, a gust of wind pushed everyone forward. And then, there it was—an enormous stone arch decorated with all sorts of creatures Mandeln had never seen in her life, marking the entrance to Ätherisch.
You couldn’t blame her for getting emotional. Maybe yesterday’s excitement had something to do with it, or perhaps it was the realization that she was standing at the threshold of a building so ancient its origins were lost to time. She could even feel the energy emanating from the dungeon, calling to her.
Ätherisch’s entry hall was an enormous expanse of polished stone, so tall that light seemed to vanish into the ceiling. Its obsidian-like floor and the columns that supported the structure were adorned with fine strips of bronze, giving shape to different figures and symbolisms.
It was the first time Mandeln had entered this dungeon, but she might as well have known it forever. Every corner of the main path was thoroughly documented, and she instantly recognized everything her eyes stumbled upon.
“Ätherisch is a burial ground,” Mandeln said, her voice and footsteps echoing tremendously in the imposing space. “This entrance was deliberately made as wide as possible to allow souls to move around freely. Its floor was purposefully tinted black to reflect the other side more clearly. If you squint, you might even see faint visions of the afterlife.”
That was more than enough for Fichte to keep her eyes away from the ground as best as she could. “I just stepped in, and this place already gives me the chills…”
“Mr. Jujur,” Mandeln said. “Has Ätherisch breathed recently?”
“I’m afraid not,” Jujur said at her side. “The dungeon has been very quiet lately. The last breathing happened around the last cold season. Unfortunately, I wasn’t there to witness it.”
“Breathed?” Fichte repeated, glancing around nervously. “Is this place alive?”
“It’s what people call a certain phenomenon that happens here,” Mandeln explained. “Ätherisch connects more than just the afterlife—it also acts as a window to the past, recording everything that has happened here. Breathing occurs when the energy becomes so concentrated that it releases in all directions, and for just a few seconds, a mirage of a past era comes to life.”
“Huh, so that's what it was,” Jujur said, with a hint of surprise. “I’ve seen it many times through the years but never understood why it happened or what it meant. You’re very knowledgeable, Mandeln.”
“And it’s very pretty,” Jujur’s colleague added from the front. “People take multiple trips a year through here just for a chance to see it.”
“Sounds interesting,” Fichte said without meaning it too much. She understood Mandeln’s passion for dungeons, but for her, dungeons were simply places to get gems and precious stones. Still, knowing more about history is always good, I guess.
The group soon arrived in another room, and another, and yet another. Each time the chambers grew smaller, and the passages more intricate as they delved deeper into the dungeon.
Eventually, when Mandeln could only see endless paths winding through long, twisting halls, Jujur called for a stop.
“Okay, everyone,” Jujur said. “You could say this is the real entrance to Ätherisch. I said it before, but underestimating a dungeon is a sure ticket to the afterlife. Don’t let anyone fool you—Ätherisch is still a dungeon. Never forget that.”
“Understood!” Many of the group said in unison.
With a nod, he took his position. “We’ll walk for around ten hours until we reach the camp. May destiny find us well.”
As the group began its march, it only took one step for Mandeln’s heart to start pounding furiously.
This is it! Mandeln thought. It's finally time! It begins now!
It is finally my time!
Pant… pant…
Cries of help echoed through the cold, dry walls. Mandeln’s ears seemed to reject sound, numbly trying to register what was happening around her.
“Aah! Don’t come closer!” A desperate voice cried out.
“Run, everyone!” Urged another one.
“It got Önemsiz! What the hell is that thing!?” Wept yet another voice.
Screams tore the air around Mandeln. It was dark, so dark.
What happened?
From afar, she seemed to hear a voice calling to her, getting increasingly louder, until a violent shove brought her hearing back.
“Mandeln! Mandeln look at me!” A familiar voice demanded. Looking at its source from close, Mandel could see Fichte with an expression of extreme concern. “Mandeln we must go, NOW!”
“Ah… Y-Yes… Yes!” Mandeln stammered, suddenly coming to her senses. She grabbed Fichte’s hands, which urged her to run as fast as she could.
In the dim room, Mandeln looked back and saw the hand she just had to let go in order to get away from that place—a strong-looking but very wrinkled hand, a bloody hand that had once promised no harm would come to her, and had kept that promise by saving her life.
“It was my fault; it was all my fault,” Fichte lamented as she pulled Mandeln’s away. “Damn it!”
Jujur was dead.