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6. Scholar of the Dungeon

Cixilo

I checked my list for the fourth time. I knew everything was correct, but I still did it to reassure myself. In the last week, I had spent most of my not inconsiderable wealth on preparing for this expedition. If I was right, and I dearly hoped I was right, it would be the most important endeavor I’d ever undertaken. I just hoped I wasn’t too late.

It had been seven days and four hours since I’d stood on my balcony and watched the meteor streak across the sky. It had been daylight, but it had still been a blinding ribbon of light in the sky. Until that day, I’d resigned myself to a reluctant truth - stars didn’t fall anymore.

Then, there it had been, in front of my eyes. A star falling. A dungeon being born.

It was the sort of opportunity dungeon scholars dreamed of. I’d been tempted to catch the first griffin heading south right that moment. It had been a difficult decision but in the end being prepared was more important. Still, every moment I’d spent in preparation had felt glacial. Now, at last, I had sorted out my affairs, packed for any calamity that might strike on the trip there and beyond, and it was time to depart.

“Uncle!” My nephew called from the door of my house. Boreas had grown into a strong lad. A man, really. He was nineteen now. Where had the time gone? “Did you remember your cane?”

I surreptitiously checked my dimensional bag’s inventory, just to be sure. “Of course, of course. Now, come here. I have a gift for you.”

Boreas’ eyes lit up. He hurried down the path. “What is it?”

I pulled a scroll cylinder from my robes and offered it to him. Boreas looked at it with puzzlement clear on his face, but he was polite enough not to show he was disappointed.

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“This is the deed to my house. It is yours now, all the paperwork has been completed.”

“But…”

“You take care of your sister, okay? I’ve left enough gold to last you the year.”

“You’re not going to return, are you?” Boreas clutched the scroll cylinder to his chest, as if it might disappear too.

I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “My lad, it has been my great honour to raise you and your sister after your parents died. I consider you my own children, I hope you don’t mind me saying -”

“Of course I don’t mind!” Boreas blurted out.

I gave a gentle smile. “And I will return, if I can, I promise. If this succeeds, then I will send for you when it is safe. If I don’t succeed, then, I shall be content knowing you and your sister are cared for.” I kept my smile strong, but there was unspoken knowledge hanging between us. Boreas knew enough of my work to know that if I didn’t succeed, then none of this would matter anymore. Esiliur would die.

I was doing this not just out of scholarly interest. I had been blessed with a family, something I’d never expected. I had been too buried in my books, dedicated to my studies, to ever think of finding a husband or wife with whom to start a family. By the time I’d raised my head from dusty old tomes, I’d been too old to even consider it. Then, Boreas and Chione had come into my life. It had been born of tragedy, but they had become a true family.

If the first new dungeon in eons could offer me a chance to protect them, then I’d do anything to make it happen.

I pulled Boreas into a firm hug, and he returned it. For a moment, I just let myself appreciate the moment and commit it to memory. “Now, you hear me. Take care of Chione, and I’ll send for you when I can. I need to hurry, or I’ll miss my griffin.”

I released him reluctantly, and with the help of the driver, clambered into my carriage.

Boreas waved as it began to trundle down the street. He waved like the whole world depended on it.

My heart gave a pang as I waved back.