Chapter Twenty-Three

Jackson looked at the tent flap where Azlam had departed, and honestly, he didn’t really care. He had defeated Azlam before, so his threats meant little to him. He had pleaded his case, and if that wasn’t enough for Azlam, there was nothing more Jackson could really do about it. Melanie whirled to face him. She wasn’t angry, per se, but she was firm.

“I may think you’re right, but you know as well as I do that you aren’t completely blameless here. Blame doesn’t matter anymore, though. Now all that is left is to grieve and move forward.”

Jackson cocked his head, studying her, wondering if she truly was ready to move forward. Finally, he nodded. It wasn’t going to do them any good to keep discussing the issue. Still, he did ask,

“What now?”

Melanie sighed and looked at him. Looking away, she looked down and then up at him.

“You clearly know a lot, or at least have access to a lot of information. I want to hear about these Concepts, and every one of my companions is either dead or has moved on without me. We still have to get through this dungeon if we want to get out.” She was working up to something, and Jackson did not rush her. She seemed to sense that he was waiting for her to get to her point because she seemed to rush out the next few sentences.

“It would be dangerous to travel alone. We don’t know what's ahead, so I’m just thinking we can travel together. That’s all.”

Melanie looked away, her cheeks flushing a bit. Jackson blinked. He wasn’t sure how to take it, honestly. One minute she was calling him a murderer, and the next she was wanting to travel with him. He sighed; it was an olive branch in a way. He didn’t mind the company, and maybe he would learn something. Finally, he nodded.

“I’d be happy to have you along, of course. We can depart shortly; I just want to check with Fred.”

Melanie nodded, but her face was sober this time. Jackson felt a little bit of awkward tension in the air. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just went outside. Fred was packing things into a cart. He smiled when he saw Jackson, who leaned against the cart.

“Little curious about something, Fred,” Jackson said. Fred nodded,

“I’m always happy to answer your questions, lad.”

“How are you getting out? Of the dungeon, I mean.”

Fred shrugged,

“No great secret; we are given a portal scroll.”

Jackson's eyes widened.

“So we could come with you then?” he asked, but Fred was already shaking his great head.

“No, lad. I’m sorry. Only we can use it. We enter into a pact through the Judge. If anyone but me used it, we’d endure a severe punishment by the Judge.”

Jackson cocked his head.

“Okay, so how did the wizard let someone else use the scroll?”

Fred fingered a tusk before responding.

“That wasn’t his portal, lad; it was one he had brought with him. Likely, it was a hidden one, I suspect.”

Jackson grunted,

“Abbaddon didn’t include that kind of restriction in the pact.”

Fred shrugged again.

“No, he didn’t. I couldn’t say why not. Now that you mention it, it does seem to be an oversight on his part. Who knows, but people do make mistakes, even incredibly powerful ones. Anyway, lad. I’m headed out here soon, and I imagine you’ve got another floor to get to. I have a last gift for you.”

Jackson rubbed the back of his neck,

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Fred. You’ve helped me enough.”

Fred grinned with a wide grin.

“If this concept thing works out, you’ll have helped me more than I can ever repay. Anyway, here it is, lad.”

Fred handed Jackson a bag. He was expecting one gift, not several. In it was a whole new outfit identical to the one that he wore now, which was torn to pieces. There were several gemstones, including diamonds. There was also a ring—a dark black ring inlaid with small crimson rubies. Jackson put it on.

"Fred, this ring is awesome. Why so many gemstones?” Jackson questioned.

Fred clapped his hands,

“It pleases me that you are happy with it. You’ll need to practice your enchanting; when you get to Aetherius, your enchanting will need to be up to snuff if we want good business.”

Jackson nodded,

“You got it, Fred.”

They clasped hands, which kind of felt like Jackson's entire arm was being swallowed up by Fred’s arm, and he went back inside to get Melanie. She was sitting where he had left her.

“I’m just going to get dressed, and we will get going.”

Melanie nodded,

“Okay then,” was all she said in response.

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Before long, they were standing on the stairs that descended to the next floor. Fred had departed via portal after a fond goodbye. Jackson had asked Melanie if she thought looting the area was a good idea; she agreed that it was, and they had looked around. Surprisingly, there really wasn’t anything. The players that had died had pretty much nothing, and the merchants had used their portals and had taken pretty much everything of value with them.

As a result, they made out with pretty much nothing.

“Are you ready?” Jackson asked Melanie. They had no idea what they’d find below, after all. Melanie gave a determined nod, and they descended to the next floor. Jackson expected more stone, but instead, the floor opened up into a vast forest.

He blinked and looked back. Yes, there were definitely stairs that led up, but they seemed to lead nowhere at all. Jackson was honestly baffled, and it most certainly showed on his face because Lazarus laughed.

“Dungeon floors are sometimes all part of the same realm, but that isn’t always the case. In reality, fledgling, this is not always the case. Each floor of a dungeon is its own unique realm, interconnected through the Eden tree. Your faces, though, are truly entertaining.”

Jackson sighed, and Melanie glanced at him.

“What?” she asked. Jackson gestured toward Lazarus.

“You can’t see him, but my spirit friend, whose name is Lazarus, is laughing at our expressions.”

Jackson told her what Lazarus had said about dungeons. She nodded thoughtfully.

“So, this spirit, it’s the one that told you about Concepts?” she questioned.

Jackson nodded and held up a hand to forestall what she might say next.

“Let’s find a place to make camp, and we can talk a little more.”

Melanie nodded, and they headed into the forest. Every so often, they heard birds, saw insects, and some squirrels and other small animals darted by them. There was no clear path, but they did eventually find a small clearing. Melanie and Jackson settled down here. Jackson sighed and twisted his face.

“I didn’t buy any camping supplies. Not that we should make camp right now, since it’s still light out.” He squinted his eyes, looking at the sky. It seemed an age since he had seen the clear blue sky—not that he even remembered seeing it. A bird flew through the sky, descending into the forest.

Melanie laughed,

“Well, luckily, I actually have some foresight. I bought some supplies. Including camping gear.”

They settled down in the clearing, with Melanie producing some plain blankets for them to sit on. Jackson looked over at Lazarus.

“Okay then, Laz, Concepts. Spill.”

Lazarus chuckled,

“What do you want to know, fledgling?”

“Well, for starters, clarification on what they actually are. You said they were symbols or images we threaded through our Domain, what do you mean by that? How would we even go about doing that? Your explanation from before was a little hasty.”

Melanie was studying the area Jackson was looking at, and she grumbled,

“There’s nothing there. This makes me feel crazy.”

Lazarus gestured at Jackson's bag of holdings.

“Take out the skull; let her touch it, fledgling.”

Jackson cocked his head.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Lazarus crossed his arms,

“Honestly? Probably not, but this would be awkward for her otherwise, and you are traveling with her. You need to extend a little trust to your companions, fledgling, if you want to survive.”

Jackson's lips twisted once in acknowledgment, and he pulled out the blood-red skull. Melanie’s eyes widened at the sight.

“Wow, that looks positively horrifying.”

Jackson looked down at the crimson skull and cocked his head. He looked back up at Melanie.

“It does kind of look horrifying, doesn’t it? Now come touch it.”

Melanie’s mouth twisted into a disgusted frown, but she came over and slowly reached out one forefinger, and, cringing, she touched the skull. She retook her seat on her blanket, shuddering.

“You know, I do have feelings,” Lazarus said, arms crossed and grinning widely.

Melanie’s gaze swiveled to look at the spirit, and her mouth fell open.

“You are real!”

Lazarus chuckled,

“Indeed, young lady. Now that you can both see me, I think it’s time to get into the subject at hand, Concepts.”

Lazarus rubbed his hands together and then waved a hand. Spectral threads appeared in the air and began to twist, forming an image of a red and gold lion.

“Behold! The lion! King of beasts!”

Lazarus gestured proudly at the spectral lion that roared soundlessly in the air. Melanie crossed her arms over her chest.

“What does a lion have to do with anything?”

Lazarus grinned and tapped his nose.

“My dear, it has everything to do with it! Look, remember what I said before? Concepts are ideas represented by a symbol or an image. The lion represents strength, nobility, valor, courage, power, dominance, and many other traits. The lion is a symbol; it represents certain ideas, otherwise known as a Concept.”

“Okay… but you said it has to resonate with us?” Melanie questioned slowly, her eyes taking in the lion. Lazarus pointed at her.

“Bingo, young lady! It can’t just be any idea; it has to be a symbol that aligns with who you are. The closer the symbols resonate with you, the more powerful the Concept has the potential to be.”

“That,” Jackson snapped his fingers, “What are the benefits of even having this so-called Concept?” he asked.

Lazarus waved a hand, and the lion's eyes seemed to glow. The image radiated power, the feeling washing over them like an unavoidable wave.

“The benefit is the same as anything else that has to do with advancing. Power. Concepts reinforce your mana, strengthening your weaves; in addition, Concepts make your skills more powerful, unlocking potent effects within them.”

Lazarus flourished a hand at Melanie.

“Your arrows, for example, could destroy a mountain or even an army with a sufficiently advanced Concept.”

Melanie’s face turned thoughtful.

Lazarus looked at the lion, and spiritual images of lightning formed around it.

“Concepts are the foundation of power.”

Lazarus closed a fist, and the lion began to turn sickly, its gold and crimson color fading and crumbling in front of them.

“Choose the wrong Concept, and you will cripple your advancement, destroying your future.”

Jackson shared a look with Melanie, and she asked the spirit,

“How do we choose the right one, then? How do we know, I mean?”

Lazarus nodded sagely.

“That, my dear, is the rub. The truth is that there isn’t any fool-proof method. The only advice I can give you is to know yourself. You need to examine yourself, examine who you think you are, flaws and all, and when you do, when you know yourself, you need to associate that with an idea, a symbol.”

Jackson rubbed at his chin.

“So, I couldn’t just pick, say, the grim reaper and use that as my Concept?” he asked.

Lazarus laughed, shaking his head.

“I suppose you could, but do you really believe that you resonate with the very idea of death itself? I certainly don’t think you do. Many have gone down that path, though, picking what they think is a powerful symbol and making it their Concept. It’s led to many crippling their future as they tried to twist the Concept or themselves to fit.”

Jackson had mostly been joking, but that was good to know.

“Alright then, how do we imbue these Concepts within us?” he asked.

Lazarus smiled, a glint in his eye.