Click! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

ARMOR MAGIC REMAINING: 21.75%

Nameless’s great helm head was tilted to the side with three bolts sticking out. The knight straightened and pulled out the projectiles to drop them with a clatter to the ground.

“Sorry!” Exclaimed Elora.

“I think Nameless is getting better at springing traps than Elora is at finding them,” observed Zel.

“Disabling alarms in a rich merchant’s mansion is very different than this,” Elora growled. She narrowed her eyes at the necromancer.

Karl inspected Nameless’s helmet and asked, “how are you holding up?”

“Not great,” the knight grumbled.

“How is this supposed to be a mage’s test?” Elora asked.

“It wasn’t. They were supposed to fail,” Zel pointed out.

“I wonder why Sargus would do all of this,” Karl said.

“There is evil in this world. Cruel, and it enjoys tormenting others,” Nameless answered.

The talk and dungeon crawl through the traps had briefly sparked another memory. He was learning more about who he was before he became the armored guardian for the Mad Mage. Since leaving the chamber with the wraiths, the four have been traveling down a hallway with no visible doors. The passage went up a flight of stairs, turned, and continued for several meters until reaching another flight of stairs. Karl guessed that they had climbed four flights of stairs already. Elora was finding most of the traps but had failed a few times, which resulted in Nameless being struck by logs, sprayed with acid, and, most recently, peppered with crossbow bolts.

“At least we are climbing up,” Karl said.

Nameless nodded. That they were.

“A door,” Zel observed.

“The exit?” Elora asked.

Karl shook his head and replied, “we did not go high enough. I estimate we are a little more than halfway up to the University.”

The three stood before the large set of double doors. It was made of heavy dark wood with detailed images carved along its entire surface. The carvings depicted what looked to be thousands of faceless people scrambling in every direction.

“Those are souls,” Zel observed.

Standing out amongst the multitudes of faceless bodies were five symbols, each surrounded by a halo. The symbols were evenly spaced from each other. They formed a pentagon with two symbols on each door. The fifth symbol was above and along the middle of the doors.

“These represent the gods! I see Numaron,” Karl said, pointing at one of the halos on the right door that depicted a book and an abacus. Nameless recalled that the Ooraki was a follower of the god of knowledge and coin.

“I recognize Viaiter, goddess of roads,” Elora said regarding the symbol beneath Numaron. It was a winding road through an open plain.

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“Yes, you both know your history lessons. Me too. I see Ararax, god of war and courage, and his sister, Ahlyaa, the goddess of life and farming,” Zel muttered with a wave of their pale hand toward the two symbols on the other door.

Ararax’s symbol was a five-pointed star made out of crossed weapons that included a spear, a sword, an ax, and a mace. Ahlyaa’s symbol was a tree ripe with fruit. The necromancer was about to explain the fifth symbol that was located above when they were interrupted by Elora.

“Nameless? Are you alright?” The elf asked.

The knight stood straight like a board. The narrow eye slits of their great helm were fixated on the topmost symbol. Elora waved her hand in front of Nameless’s face but received no reaction. Karl shook the knight’s heavy armored shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Nameless mumbled.

The knight rubbed a gauntleted hand over the middle symbol of the flame. His memory up until this point was that he was once a Templar to a long-forgotten god. Now he remembered. That god was Caeriggnas of the Blue Flame. With that knowledge, a wave of memories washed over the knight. Of loyalty, commitment to the cause of law and order. Leading armies and eventually leading adventurers, the Favored, into deep and ancient dungeons. But then, failure. Pleading for a second chance that was never granted, and instead given a different existence as the Black Knight and guardian to a mad mage. What was his failure? He couldn’t recall.

Nameless shook his head and asked, “why?”

“Huh?” Responded Zel.

“I don’t think he is talking to us,” Karl observed quietly.

“What happened to the Gods?” Nameless asked, raising his great helm to look at the others.

“The goblins turned on the Machinery from within the Wasteland and uncovered the lie the gods were sharing. This freed all of us,” Zel answered.

“Watch your tongue,” Karl growled, his hand clutching the small holy symbol he wore around his neck.

Elora curled her lips and watched with her pupilless dark eyes.

“Look at the door,” Zel said with a motion of a pale hand.

Karl scowled but turned to look.

“Not everyone is saved by the gods,” Zel observed.

The door had thousands of faceless humanoid figures crawling and reaching across its surface. A small number were being raised into the symbols of the gods. Along the edges of the door were grinning demons that hungrily gnawed on the souls and looked to snatch the unfortunate beings within their outstretched claws.

“Karl, let me ask you this. If the Gods truly wanted to save us. How come there is no God of Death?” Asked the necromancer.

“Death? Worship and living a pure life will grant you eternal salvation,” the Ooraki answered.

“What would be the purpose of a God of Death?” Elora asked.

“To guide the lost souls on their journeys. You see, the reason why you do not see a God of Death is because the gods are not selfless. They are no different from demons that need to consume souls to stay relevant. That is what the goblins had shown us when they turned on the Machinery a century ago,” Zel replied.

“I’m getting tired of your blasphemy. Look, Zel,” Karl said, pointing at the door and adding, “the gods are saving the souls.”

“Saving? Clearly, they are doing a poor job. Look at the multitudes that are lost without a guide?”

“Guys, it is a carving on a door. A very impressive carving, but that does not make it a history lesson or even the truth,” Elora pointed out.

“A door that we need to go through to escape this murder dungeon,” Nameless added.

Zel and Karl closed their mouths and nodded in agreement.

“Why would Sargus place this door here?” Elora wondered.

“I don’t think he did,” Nameless replied.

“Yes, this is an old door. Zel, you mentioned that Sargus did not build this dungeon but expanded upon it, right?” Karl asked. The Ooraki was running a hand along the etched surface.

“From what the wraith shared with me when I briefly touched its mind, you are correct. This used to be a catacomb that I think Sargus discovered and then converted for his own twisted reasons.”

“Beyond these doors is a tomb,” Nameless stated.

Karl nodded his head, “that makes sense.”

Elora shivered, and Zel rubbed their pale hands together in glee.