Whoever decided to name it The Well must have had a strange idea of what wells looked like.

Wells were damp and lined with gray stones. They had little roofs and a rope with a bucket attached.

The threads unwound themselves in a chorus of metallic shrieks, unmaking the three walled room I had been confined to every time I entered the ethereal structure. Receding and falling silent, I found myself in a circular room made of the same black material as the floor. I could see no light source but the room was not dark, my muddled reflection visible from every angle. The only feature in the room other than me was a door. It had a frame and a handle of the same material as everything else I could see. Most importantly, it had not faded into existence out of nothing and was not made of light.

I walked over and opened it.

Cool air swept across my face and rustled my hair as soon as I stepped out of the circular room and onto a platform of stained glass. Intricate patterns of reds, blues, greens, and every other color I knew existed, bound together with the same trimetal threads the walls had been made of, formed opalescent panels of liquid color. The half circle platform branched to my left, my right, and in front of me. Thirteen walkways made of the same combination of glass and metal the platform I stood on, with nothing but open space between them, stretched out before disappearing into archways made of the same strange material the circular room was. The archways were set into a stained glass mosaic of every color and shape that reached up farther than my eyes would allow me to see.

No gray stones, no little roof, no rope and bucket.

The Well was not a well at all. I did not know what it was, temple? library?, were more fitting but still felt wrong.

I looked up. Connected by a loop of spiral stairs rising off the platform, a seemingly endless amount of where I was standing stretched above me. I walked to the edge of the platform and peered over. Underneath me, identical to what was above me, an uncountable amount of platforms, walkways, and archways repeated to the end of my sight.

Jump. The thought came and went without my intention.

"How the fuck is all of this in my head?" I said aloud.

Before doing anything else, I took a moment and made sure the door I had come through hadn't vanished the moment I stepped through it, because that was exactly the type of thing that would happen to me

Then, the door still there and unable to control myself any longer, I did what any reasonable Maiden would do.

I sprinted across the walkway to my left. Only beginning to worry if it would hold my weight, considering I saw no manner of suspension, at the halfway point.

Did I have weight in The Well?

At first only bending my knees, I quickly advanced to stomping my feet. That led into me jumping up and down on a panel of purple glass large enough that I would have slipped right through if it had broken.

"Either I don't have weight or this is the strongest glass I've ever seen." I said to myself and then continued on my way.

I crossed under the archway and stepped into a hallway made entirely of the black material. Along both walls, stretching back until I could no longer see their color, were doors. Each one a different shade of red, from the rusty color of dried blood to a shade so light it was almost pink.

I stepped to the first door on my left, a muddy maroon made of heavily burled wood.

Flannery. The name appeared in my mind and I knew that if I entered it, I would be in Flannery's memories.

"Too hot." I said, recalling a story I had heard about three bears and a very entitled little girl.

I continued down the hall, Names appearing in my mind just as the first had. Joan Everheart. Her door was the color and texture of rose petals. Hnedake. Hers was light, like coral. Samantha. Dark mahogany, smooth to the touch.

Every door was a different shade and every name was new to me until I crossed to the other side. I passed the first door but stopped before I reached the second.

Trea.

"I know that name." I said to myself.

Excitement took me and I grabbed the large red stone that served as a door handle and opened it.

In a place that I thought held near infinite doors, I don't know why I was surprised by a second hallway filled with more doors. Still set into the black material, familiar doors of empty light greeted me and at the furthest end of the hallway I could see slivers of red.

I thought about Trea. She had been sitting across from a sorceress. I remembered her lashing out in anger when she had shattered the stone. Could I find that memory among the other doors and view it again? Walking deeper into her memories, it occurred to me that my unrestricted access might be temporary and I should make the most of it while I could. I ran again, the doors of empty light passing by me in a blur until I found color. Sure enough, after a distance I had no better way to know besides counting doors and I hadn't thought of doing that until I was well past the point of turning around and starting over, the doors were no longer empty. Identical to the door that had named itself Trea in my mind, I turned to the first door on my right.

Flashes of a blackened sky and strange whistling played in my mind when I place my hand on the handle.

"Here we go." I said to myself and passed through the doorway.

The wyrm vanished within the black clouds that had spewed from its wretched maw since the moment it had descended upon us. The billowing plumes of smoke in the sky above me did not conceal the metallic whistle of the wyrm beginning to accelerate again.

What had been a dense forest moments before had been reduced to nothing but scorched ground and blackened, broken, trees.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to take another one of those, Boss. Why don't you get out of here before it comes back.” My knight said weakly.

I turned to look at the man that had just saved my life.

Byron, a shield knight of the Armory Enclave, had been in my employ for the entirety of the two years since I had set off into the lands of chaos. His shields, auraments made of a shining crimson metal, were dug into the ruined ground. Even buried, they were nearly twice my own height and if my knight's shaking legs were an accurate indication of the state the wyrm's first dive bomb had reduced him to, they were the only reason he hadn’t taken a knee. The carmine red of my aura shone through the sprawling cracks left in the shields surfaces from the wyrm's impact. The very same impact that would have ground me into dust if it hadn’t been for Byron.

The man behind the auraments, wearing armor infused with my own essence had become a friend in the two years I had known him. Long nights around campfires and sharing tents when it became too cold to sleep alone had that effect on people. Even if they were a powerful and dignified sorceress like I was.

I couldn’t leave him.

“Did I ever tell you why I agreed to hunt down the Mythmaker and his vile creations?” I turned back to the section of sky the Wyrm had ascended in, its metallic whistling sounding like a battalion of copper teapots all roiling to a boil in unison.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Trea,” Byron rasped, using my first name for only the second time. Any trace of his usual politeness and reverence had been broken and burnt like the thousands of blackened tree trunks that surrounded us. “ Get behind me, I can protect you.” He growled before his strength failed him and he released his shields, falling flat on his back.

Impending doom does have a way of breaking down manners and social niceties.

“New dresses.” I said, flaring my aura.

“What's that?” Byron groaned, rolling over onto his hands and knees.

If I had learned anything about him in our time together, it was that he meant what he said. He would have protected me, even if my protection came at the cost of him. Like he had told me countless times before, he had made an oath.

As silly as it was, part of me hoped his insistence on saving me wasn’t solely based upon matters of oaths and honor. Of all times for matters of the heart to be at the front of my mind, having a creature capable of destroying entire cities barreling towards you faster than you had ever seen something move might be the worst one.

“I left the comfort of Zenithcidel and set off into the lands of chaos so I could earn enough stones to buy a set of dresses in every color known to the Mothers,” My aura flowed out of my right palm in a torrent, covering my body in my carmine will. I felt the rush that came with the manifestation and used that high to shape what my Soul desired. “I will not let you die because a silly little girl wanted new dresses.”

"Let me do my job, Boss." Byron demanded, undoubtedly still trying to climb to his feet.

The wyrm broke through the smog so fast it punched a hole in the dark clouds that had obscured it, leaving a clear window to the blue sky beyond. Attached to the body of what at some point used to be some form of canine, mechanical wings and limbs tucked against the charred body of the creature. Its shining surfaces at first only reflected the flames of the burning forest before the Wyrm opened its mouth and released a burst of new fire, igniting itself for the second time and diving straight towards me.

"Byron, do you remember when we first made camp at Spiral Bridge? "We both were a bit too tired and had a bit too much to drink and you kissed me."

I watched my reflection in the cracked metal of Byron’s shields. The red light of my aura shone around me as my will became material. Armor, impossible for any smith to craft with hammer and anvil, overlapped and linked itself from the fingertips of my right hand to just below my elbow, materializing into an ornate gauntlet of scales and metal. The color of it fluctuated between all shades of red and It bore no weight, fitting like my hand had been made for it. I stopped the flow of my aura and closed my channel. Rolling my fingers from thumb to pinky and then back again, I closed my hand into a fist and planted my feet.

"I'm sorry for that my lady, it won't happen again." Byron said, having managed to climb back up to his knee.

My heart pounded in my chest. It would take me a long time to recover from the piece of myself I had just spent but no matter how long it was, it would certainly be shorter than recovering from death.

"Do not apologize. Just as soon as we can rent a room and get a drink, I would like for you to kiss me again," I couldn't stop speaking, the words flowing out of my mouth as easy as my aura had from my palm. "I have been harboring feelings for you since the bridge and it makes me giddy that we haven't captured the Mythmaker yet because we get to spend more time together in search of him. "

After nearly a hundred years of life, the wyrm was a breath away from ending my too short existence.

I would have my dresses and I would have Byron.

"Not now. I'm in love!" I yelled, dropping down and jumping at the final moment.

A rainbow of red hues flashed, bright and blinding. I clamped my gauntleted hand down on the wyrm's top jaw and wrenched it towards my body. My momentum ended and I dropped to the side of the wretched thing, behind its head, halting its dive. Immense force pulled against my grip, grinding my boots into the soil. I held firm and the monster's jaw gave way. Black liquid, hot and acrid, spewed from its ripping maw as I tore it into two halves.

The bottom half of it fell to my feet and I released my grip, letting the top half clatter to the ground.

I dropped to my knees and watched as the piece of my soul I had manifested cracked. "Fuck you." I snapped at the slain wyrm and spat.

The gauntlet shattered, breaking my arm and fingers as it went, disintegrating into a stream of carmine dust.

As much as I hated it, I screamed out in pain.

Tears fell down my face. I pounded my already ruined fist into the wet ground, sending white flashes of pain through my arm and hot splatters of black fluid onto my face with every hit.

It would take weeks to heal. I was no closer to the Mythmaker than I had been before I'd wrecked my fucking arm.

“Let's get you off the ground boss.” Byron said, picking me up gently and cradling me in his arms.

"Put me down!" I demanded, struggling to free myself from his grasp.

"Easy, you aren't actually mad at me. You are just coming down," He said, unaffected by my struggle. “In the Afterglow.”

I hit him across his face with my broken hand and nearly fainted. When the dizziness had passed, I took a deep breath and my anger was replaced with weariness. "I'm sorry. I overdid it."

“I know you did, boss. But I can't complain. I'd be dead if you didn't,” He said, shifting my weight into one arm and shrugging his shields onto his back. They locked in place with a sharp click and he removed his helmet with his free hand. “Let's get you that room and that drink."

I looked up at him. My limp right arm laying across my middle. "And the other thing?" I asked, feeling a strange pang of nervousness come over me.

"If you share the drink." Byron said with a smile, turning me away from the mechanical corpse still spewing its acrid fluid.

I relaxed into him and closed my eyes.

Byron said something else but voice seemed so distant. Then it faded completely and I fell.

I came back to myself feeling like I had a stake through my right palm.

I shot up and clutched it to my chest, rocking back and forth. My face was wet with tears that continued to flow.

"Dani," A voice said, and then I felt myself being pulled into someone's arms. "You're okay."

"My hand." Was all I managed to choke out between gasps for air.

It knew it was Anna, having already reached the point of familiarity that I could tell her by her voice. She took it in their hands and turned it over. "I don't see anything wrong with it."

The gauntlet. I thought, remembering the ruined state of Trea's hand. I had somehow brought her pain in the memory back with me.

"What are you doing up here?" I asked, opening my eyes.

My room looked like the scene of a murder. Blood stained the white window sill. Underneath, a pool of red gave way to tiny paw prints that stopped suddenly and then resumed on the other side of me before trailing off into the bathroom.

"I told you in my note I was coming up," She said, sliding back from me so we could look at each other. "I didn't expect to find you laid out on the floor. I thought someone had snuck up here and killed you."

Sam. "I let him out." I said, moving to look out the window.

"He's fine. The bird he has in the bathroom isn't though. I think your cat might be a psychopath." Anna said, grabbing my hand again.

The pain had receded quickly, only a dull ache was left to remind me of it.

"I must have had a cramp." I said sheepishly.

Anna let it go and gave me an odd look. "Mmhmm," She said, sounding like her terrifying mother. "Must have been a cramp."

I stood up and offered her my hands, she took them.

Is she mad at me?

"You can talk to me, you know?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Anna sighed. "I mean, you've got some pretty strange shit going on," She said, gently pushing me on my shoulder. "You don't have any clothes. You steal food from the kitchen when you could just ask me for it. You take so many baths, I'm surprised you aren't permanently wrinkled," She smiled but her words came direct. She wasn't joking. "I'm not gonna interrogate you. I know wherever you where before here couldn't have been very good. You can talk to me. I'll listen."

I had never heard her say that many words before.

Sam stepped into the room, sat down, and started grooming the blood and feathers off himself.

"I already keep one of your secrets." Anna said, pointing at the little blue kitten.

I didn't speak, literally biting my tongue to keep myself from it. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her about The Well and the memories, about Zenithcidel and the Mothers, about why I had run away and found myself at her mother's boarding house, but most of all, I wanted to tell her about how alone I felt and that when she was around I didn't feel that way.

"Oh no, don't do that." Anna laughed.

I realized I had tears in my eyes and quickly wiped them away on my sleeve. "I'm sorry."

"Again, that's the saddest fucking thing I've ever heard," She said, gathering up my pile of blankets and sheets. "Come on, we are gonna find you a curtain so you can actually sleep on your mattress."

"I don't know." I said.

Anna started walking out of the room. "It's okay, my mom isn't here. I know you're scared of her."

That got me out of my room but all the way down the stairs, all I could think about was how much Anna was giving me and how little I had given in return.

I didn't have much experience with them, but founding my first friendship on secrets and lies didn't feel like a good place to start