A woman, on a survey task for the hill lord, hefted her mace and stepped into the dungeon. A dungeon creature flashed right in front of her face, and she struck out instantly. The mace slammed the butterfly’s body to the ground in crumpled pile. The butterfly’s wings drifted slowly to the ground; they had been ripped off the butterfly. The woman stared down at the butterfly wings for several seconds before letting out a surprised laugh. She raised her eyes to scan her surroundings. She swore in surprise at the hundreds of flowers nestled under and around the vine’s leaves.
Human harvesters soon returned to the dungeon. The first few visits recorded the types of creatures, their variations, and their numbers. By clearing out all the creatures between visits, the harvesters working for the hill lord could determine how long to allow the dungeon to repopulate. With sufficiently frequent visits, the danger of being overwhelmed by attacks was minimal. The harvesters continued to capture water-aligned creatures and slay the rest. After a few favorable trades occurred involving butterfly wings, Harvesters brought big nets woven with spider silk to catch the butterflies. There was often a great deal of laughter when one harvester or another had to chase a butterfly in circles or climb up one of the larger vines to reach. The harvesters spoke often in appreciation of the beauty of the butterfly wings. The first time an eye butterfly was sighted, many harvesters complained about the eyes’ unsettling nature, though it later became the most valuable butterfly capture.
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Hildred opened his eyes to see patches of bright sunlight on the wall of a roundhouse. Smoke drifted lazily through the light and up into the thatch of the roof. He blinked several times before he remembered that his eyes had been ruined. His face felt stiff, so he reached a hand up to touch. His hand found raised scars around both eyes and on much of the upper half of his face. Tears stung his eyes as he remembered being unable to see Leta as they died. Hildred closed his eyes and used one of his abilities to see himself accurately. Oh, I still look like Hilda. He thought. With a flex, he changed from a brown-haired, brown eyed, brown-skinned woman to a black-haired, black-eyed, lavender-skinned man. His skin was pale enough that most people he had met had assumed he was a pale skinned human, and his features were very similar to those of Hilda, like a brother. The scars colored his face red and purple, further disguising his lavender skin.
“Greetings, Hildred. My name is Oz. May the System guide you to glory” A young man’s voice startled Hildred and stopped him staring at his own face. He opened his eyes to see the man awkwardly bowing. The man had not spoken in the local language, but in a rough approximation of Hildred’s own language. Hildred replied in the young man’s own language.
“That is kind of you to say. I expect Hill Lord Andebert had you memorize just that phrase?” Hildred’s voice sounded a bit dry to his own ears. He sat up and cleared his throat.
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Oz switched to his regular tongue. “Yes, he did, though I was happy to do so.” Oz sat down on the floor across from Hildred. “How are you? Do you have any hurt?”
Hildred’s eyes furiously threatened to spill tears. “Leta is dead.” Nothing could hurt worse than that. Hildred found he could speak no more at that moment.
Oz nodded solemnly. “Yes. Here are the ashes we found in your hand.” Oz pulled out a small pouch from his bag and handed it to Hildred. Hildred clutched the pouch and felt a hard object inside, probably a crystal vial. He held Leta’s remains for several breaths while Oz politely waited for a response. Hildred managed a nod of thanks without looking up.
“The others with you are also dead. Andy- I mean, Andebert told me you probably had two others with you in the dungeon. Would you tell me about them?” Oz produced a small clay tablet and a scribe. Clearly, this young man was here by direction of the hill lord. Hildred wondered why he woke up in a roundhouse and not inside the stone walls of a cell in the hillfort.
“Yes, two others. They were going and asked us to assist them. Arna and Baggi. The hill lord knows of them already, I’m certain.” Hildred said.
Oz wrote two names on the tablet. “Tell me how you met the others and what your intention was in the dungeon.” Oz sounded a bit stiff, as though he were reading the question off his clay tablet instead of speaking naturally.
Hildred shook his head. “Leta and I met far away from here and long time ago. We met Arna soon after we came here. Yesterday-I mean, I assume it was yesterday-She invited us to join her in finding some treasure in the dungeon.” Hildred realized that he was rubbing the scars on his face, so he pulled his hand down and clasped both hands in his lap. “You saw the badge on the dungeon door?”
“I did.” Oz nodded.
“That badge means the dungeon has at least one good treasure. It usually means that the dungeon is difficult and very dangerous, but Arna said the dungeon had just had something happen and most of the monsters were dead or missing or something.” Hildred looked out the doorway of the roundhouse as he felt blood rush to his face. “Was that even true? Why did we believe her?”
Oz waited politely for a few breaths before continuing. “And what happened in the dungeon?”
Hildred put his face in his hands. “The first floor was fine. The monsters attacked but they were pretty weak. The next floor was the same. Then we just couldn’t see. We should have stopped; we should have turned back!” Hildred pulled at his hair and took two deep breaths before continuing. “I was separated from the others. When I caught up, they were mostly dead already. I tried to get Leta out, but we couldn’t even get back through one floor together. Leta died.” Feeling like a child in a tantrum, Hildred lay down and turned away from Oz. “Please, I cannot speak any more.”
Hildred heard Oz stand. The man spoke. “Thank you for answering my questions. Please stay in this roundhouse until the hill lord comes to speak with you. There is food in the box there and a latrine outside.” Oz’s footsteps moved towards the door, and then the man was gone. Hildred was alone.