The tops of three heads could be seen walking past the tips of pale winter grasses that lined the path to [Hidden Glade]. Lissa's mousey-brown waves and Bup's stick-straight blonde hair trailed after Mistress Glee's bird's nest of crimpy, dark green locks. Even three months younger than Lissa, Bup's tall genes were expressing themselves, and he stood almost a head taller than his two companions. A large shadow passed over his face as the sharp whistling cry of Artaxes sounded overhead. Bup squinted his eyes up toward the mid-morning sun to see his Emerald Prairie Eagle [familiar] swoop in for a landing. He held out his unprotected arm, and the proud bird landed with grace and gentility and no scratches to his boy's arm.
Not exactly walking with them—about fifteen paces behind—was a mid-sized, darkly bearded human man in plain woolen workers clothing. After heated discussion late into the previous night, Drust had finally agreed to Glee's dungeon field trip on the condition that he was also coming along. He understood—even agreed with—her reasons, but he couldn't find it within himself to trust the gods not to do anything to harm either his precious lamb or nephew while they were inside the dungeon. If the gods did do something, it's not like he would be able to stop them, he knew. But, he also knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if something were to happen and he hadn't been there. He registered somewhere that this objection was irrational—why should the gods be any less able to act here in the Primeland than inside a dungeon—but old wounds ache without consideration for logic and reason. He was going. He'd hung his sling from his belt and tucked several smooth rainbow stones from their creek into various pockets in his clothing. He was as prepared as he could be given the circumstances. He hoped—but decidedly did not pray—that his presence would be entirely unnecessary.
As the group made their way down the cobblestone path, Mistress Glee was repeating previous instructions to her three pupils on what to expect when they got inside and reiterating why it was important that they took this trip. Lissa, Bup, and Artaxes had heard it all before; each even aced a written test, and they were all well-prepared. The dungeon they were approaching was called [Hidden Glade]; it was where the majority of produce was farmed for the city of Etoleem, especially in the winter. They would pass through a [threshold], and then check in at the door. What they were to do after that, Mistress Glee hadn't told them at all.
Lissa bounded along impatiently in bursts and starts, taking long jumps, hopping, and skipping in her excitement. Mistress Glee had worked with the child long enough to know that letting her get out some of her energy here would be better for her focus once inside [Hidden Glade], and made no effort to stop her. Before the group knew it, they had arrived.
Glee had taught them about what a [threshold] was, in theory, but she had done little in the way of actually describing what it would look like, feel like. As the [threshold] to [Hidden Glade] came into view, Lissa's bouncing stopped. Even Artaxes, normally proud and aloof, seemed to gaze with a measure of curiosity and respect. At first, they approached the strange gateway from the side, and saw absolutely nothing, but as they rounded a curve in the path, it appeared as a slice out of reality, shallower than a blade of grass, stretching tall as two full grown human men. As they continued around the curve and became more perpendicular to the flat plane of the [threshold], they could see that it stretched twice as wide as it was tall and had a reflective surface like perfectly polished silver. All around its perimeter were words in the same script that Lissa's status had originally used. It read "Hidden Glade," in glyphs as tall as her torso that Lissa could only decipher by letting her eyes slip out of focus.
To her magical senses, the strange gate was not reflective or even solid at all, rather it was like a woven cloth, incredibly intricate in its pattern and detail. There didn't seem to be a warp and a weft, rather the ends of the threads in both orientations vertical and horizontal seemed to stretch away from her, disappearing into infinity no matter which angle she viewed the [threshold] from. Suddenly some of the threads began to ripple and vibrate, and a hole began to expand between in the weave as threads began to be shoved aside.
As the children stood and gaped in silence, the perfectly smooth reflective surface rippled, and the front wheel of a wheelbarrow emerged, followed immediately by the wheelbarrow itself, full to the brim with fresh greens. Then the pusher of the wheelbarrow emerged, a young woman likely still a teenager, who grinned mischievously when she saw Mistress Glee's group standing there.
"Och, first time seeing [Hidden Glade]?" She paused long enough to address the awed children. After they nodded, she added, "They say there's no monsters, but I knows better! Mosquitoes are monsters says I!" She leaned toward the children conspiratorially, "Heard me [foreman]'s missing ear is because he got bit right on the lobe, and scratched the whole. thing. off! I swears I heard it's true." She winked obviously at Drust who scowled deeply.
"Don't listen to her." He grumbled, not in the mood for such silliness. Ironically, that was just the sort of comment he would have made in any other situation.
Despite Drust's response, Lissa and Bup had locked eyes with one another and grinned widely. Lissa asked eagerly, "Is he really missing an ear?"
"Och! yes!" She grinned again, and then squinted one eye while opening the other as wide as it would go, "but don't stare. He doesn't like it when people stare." She gave a sharp nod, a wink to Mistress Glee who was trying in vain to hide her amusement, and hurried off, pushing her full wheelbarrow back down the stone path toward the city.
Drust covered his eyes with a hand for a moment while Mistress Glee turned to address the children again.
"Now, remember, the [threshold] will feel strange, probably very strange for you, Mellissa, but just keep walking until you're through." She addressed Lissa directly, "If you haven't already this morning, it might be a good idea to veil your senses now."
Lissa did so, skillfully covering her magical senses in a thicker haze of shadow than she would have ordinarily, and the multicolored threads of the [threshold] faded entirely from her view. She wanted to be able to enjoy this trip, not spend the entire time staving off a headache if she could avoid it. Her father took her hand then and refused to let go when she tried to tug free. She opened her mouth to complain, but when she saw concern etched deeply into his features, the words died in her throat. Mistress Glee had said that [Hidden Glade] was even safer than Etoleem since there were no large predators of any kind inside, but even so, her father was clearly afraid. It was odd as a child to see her father, her anchor of safety, be afraid of something, but she was sure they would all be fine, right?
"It's gonna be okay, dad," she said quietly. "It's just a magical farm, right?"
Brow furrowed, Drust regarded his daughter. "Sure. Just a farm," he finally agreed, though his tone lacked conviction.
Mistress Glee strode purposefully across the path and through the wall of silver, and Artaxes flew after her, streaking through with barely a ripple in the reflective surface. Bup's ear-to-ear grin showed his teeth for once as he took one look at Lissa and dashed off after his [familiar]. Lissa itched to chase after him, but for once in her life, Lissa waited, still and patient, for her father to be ready. After an eternity (no more than a minute later), Drust squeezed his daughter's hand, and they walked across the stone path and entered the silvery [threshold] together.
Lissa expected it to feel cool and hard, like metal or glass, but it felt more like silk that had lain out in the sunshine, warm and silky. The sensation passed over all of her skin, as if her clothing hadn't been there at all. Even through the thick muffling of [dull senses], she could almost taste the crackling quality of the space they passed through fizzing in the back of her mouth. All around, her mundane sight only saw the warping of reflective surfaces; even with Drust's hand still firmly in hers, she didn't see her own face or her father anywhere in the layers of shining silver.
Two steps. Three. Gravity subtly shifted so she felt as if she were leaning hard to one side. Four steps, and Drust's gentle tug on her hand seemed to rotate her path so she could continue walking upright. Five steps, and the shining world around Lissa expanded into one brilliant light that overwhelmed her senses mundane and magical alike.
And just like that, they were through. Her own body and all she carried with her came back into view, and her father's large calloused hand was once again visible, holding onto hers. She began to look up to see his bearded face, but the moment her eyes went past her own hands, she gaped in awe. Somewhere nearby, she knew there was a magical farm, but what she saw took her breath away.
The sky behind her father was yellow; from mountainous horizon to mountainous horizon the hues of buttercup, lemon, canary, and gold painted the whole sky. An overly large orange daystar hung much closer in the sky than had the familiar yellow-white sun of the winter morning in the Primeland they had just left behind. In stark contrast as well, she realized she was growing quite hot under her layers of winter clothing. The atmosphere here was thick and warm here like an afternoon in late spring. She unconsciously tried to take her hand from her father's in order to remove her outer cloak, but he still held fast.
"Dad, let me take my—," she began.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Unfamiliar birdsong abruptly drew her attention. From behind a hilly rise somewhere further in, a glint of gold rose up and up in a long, lazy streak. It was some kind of bird, but its tail feathers must have been as long as ten men and appeared like solid gold. Wonder and awe stirred in Lissa's heart. Even if dungeons could be dangerous, how could her father have kept her from such a place? What else lay through the mirror doors that peppered the world? What wondrous things could—
"May I take your coats?" An unfamiliar, formal voice interrupted her thoughts. On the right-hand side of the path standing in front of a couple sparsely filled coat racks that seemed to hang in midair stood an olive skinned human man who appeared to be in his thirties, even older than her father. Mistress Glee and her cousin were standing nearby, having approached the man just ahead of them. Bup's face reflected wonder back at her, eyes alight with interest and excitement. Artaxes was no where to be seen, but there was nothing particularly unusual about that.
"Much obliged," Drust answered, finally releasing Lissa's hand as he began to remove his outwear and helped her to do the same. He passed over a few layers of coats and scarves, pockets holding onto their hats and gloves, and the attendant quickly stowed their garments with practiced grace.
"Will you be leaving before evening, gentlefolk?" the attendant asked.
"Yes," Mistress Glee spoke decisively before her father could answer. "Just until mid-afternoon. Well before you close for the day, Salias." After a moment she added, "Tell us; anything noteworthy happening this morning?"
The man smiled appreciatively at her having answered his underlying question. "Very good. And yes, ma'am. There's a harvest on the primary plot happening all week. I've been informed that the worker with the best yield gets to run the [floating stairs] first next month."
As the attendant had been speaking, Drust had taken hold of Lissa's hand once more while she was briefly distracted. She tugged against his grasp again, but his large hand held her fast. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, "We go together or we go home. Your choice."
Lissa let out a huge exasperated groan and slumped toward the ground. "I'm not a baby anymore, dad!"
"Thank you very much for the information, Salias. Please pass along my greetings to your family," Mistress Glee thanked the attendant warmly and then turned a sharp eye on Lissa and Drust. "Mellissa, you will behave, or we will all leave early."
Lissa immediately stopped squirming and stood up straight. Her father could be wheedled, but Mistress Glee was as firm as a rock at the base of an archway. No amount of bargaining or begging could change her mind.
Seeing Lissa's compliance, Mistress Glee placed two fingers in her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. When Artaxes swooped back into view, she addressed the humans standing with her, "Buppero, Brightglenns, follow me, please."
The child-height, forest-complexioned gnome turned once again to the path that stretch away from them, seemingly for leagues and leagues across the dungeon's sprawling hills and began walking at a mild pace down the first of the hills. The yellows of the sky reflected off everything, giving the whole place the feel of late afternoon, though it was clearly mid-morning just like it had been outside. More of the long-tailed golden birds were flying now in a v-formation overhead, following the first that had caught Lissa's attention.
As they set off, Lissa dropped the veil over her magical senses for only a moment and just as quickly replaced it. The magic around her was denser than anywhere she had ever been, and even the brief moment of exposure had been more than enough. Their initial walk lasted for at least half an hour. Lissa's gaze flitted without stopping to rest from new thing to new thing in continuously building excitement. There were so many new things; plants, animals, mushrooms, and everything in between that filled the rolling hills they walked with a vivaciousness only barely rivaled by the Emerald Plains in her memories. Several tall flowering grasses seemed somehow familiar as they waved in the slight breeze, and she suddenly realized she had seen baskets woven from their reflective stems in the market before.
Drust, for his part, was visibly on edge, flinching whenever something living moved around them. The darkly-bearded man, barely into his thirties, hadn't set foot into a dungeon since his family had died more than fifteen years before, and the uncanny familiarity of the dungeon's magical atmosphere raised the hairs on the back of his neck. He took unsteady breaths as he walked along, still holding Lissa's hand firmly. [Hidden Glade] appeared to be peaceful and safe, but tension still pulled his shoulders towards his ears, and he gripped his sling in his free hand.
Artaxes kept apace with the group in lazy circles as he surveyed the domain. He was actually curious, but the proud eagle affected an air of disdainful disinterest as if the wonders of the ground below him were also beneath him. One day, Bup and Artaxes would be able to share each other's senses, but for now, Bup saw the strange new place through only his own eyes. He was drawn especially to the myriad small creatures he could hear and occasionally see inhabiting the grassy hills around them. Spindly red trees with rich purple leaves broader than Artaxes's vast wingspan crowned some of the hillocks, providing shade and shelter for birds and small creatures alike. All of the creatures that Bup had been able to spy in the grasses or branches nearby glinted as if made from refined metals, just like the banner-tailed golden birds that had flown by at the start of their walk. Bup felt like he knew where the life around him was, as if drawn by it. Delight and contentment mingled with wonderment as he took it all in through his quiet demeanor.
Mistress Glee had had the sense not to attempt to give them any instruction as they walked along the path she knew well toward the primary plot. Viewing portions of the competitive harvest would be a fun experience for the children while they had an early lunch, followed by a run through the [floating stairs]—if she could pry Drust's hand off his daughter's for long enough. His anxious presence wasn't completely ideal if she were being honest, but their education and exposure to an important part of the world was more important than silly things like ideal circumstances.
Sooner than the children realized, Mistress Glee had led them off the main path to the top of a grassy rise. As they crested the tall hill, the vast acreage of farmland that spread out in the shallow bowl-like valley before them came into view along with the small figures of distant farm workers. Glee produced a simple green quilt from her satchel, spread it out across the grass, and instructed everyone to take a seat. As the group made themselves comfortable, cheers and shouts rose up from the valley below, causing Drust to jerk and the others to focus their attention on the distant figures. Mistress Glee cast a spell on the air between them and the valley, and suddenly the view grew closer, the distant figures grew larger, and the details came into clear focus.
The workers were in a line along the edge of the large field. Each of them stood next to a wheelbarrow like the one the young woman they'd met at [Hidden Glade]'s entrance had been pushing. Several were partially full of fresh produce of different sorts, but some were still empty. The workers standing next to those wheelbarrows were focused intently on the ripe field. One young man, a gnome and the first in the line with an empty wheelbarrow, had his eyes closed and his hands extended. A narrow furrow opened in front of him all the way across the field, which left the potatoes growing along that line fully exposed. A moment later, and the ground closed again, under the potatoes, leaving them unblemished, resting atop the soil. The watching workers cheered him on as he tiredly and happily pushed his wheelbarrow onto the field to collect his exposed prizes. When he had returned to the edge of the field the next worker close her eyes in concentration and began to cast her own spell.
"You'll find that spells cast within dungeons tend to draw more power than those cast in the Primeland," Mistress Glee began. "That's due to the concentration of magic within dungeons. A being with high finesse can, with practice, learn to draw a precise amount of power regardless of where they cast, but most never quite master that. Often, this means that individuals who rely heavily on their magical abilities rather than their profession's skills will overshoot their [capacity] while in a dungeon and need to rest much more frequently than they might expect. Alternatively, for those who master their magic draw, they are able to cast in the Primeland with nearly as much power as their strongest casts within a dungeon. Out in the Primeland, most of these farmers," she motioned to the enlarged view in front of them, "would never be able to harvest as much at once as they are here and now within the dungeon."
"So, you mean that casting a spell here the same way you would out in the Primeland ends up drawing a lot more magic just because magic is more concentrated here? And since a person's [capacity] hasn't changed, they get tired more quickly?" Bup asked.
"Just so, Buppero. Very good." Mistress Glee replied, watching the farmer's competition.
"So... does that mean that spells are cast with higher [potency] within dungeons regardless of caster's personal [potency]?" he reasoned.
Mistress Glee turned a sharp eye toward the blonde boy, a satisfied smile teasing the corner of her lips, "Indeed. Well reasoned. No magic of your own yet, but still, that mind is sharp."
Bup smiled without teeth at his tutor's praise. The gnome passed out sandwiches and trail food from her satchel as she explained a bit of what they were seeing in the valley below. She named some of the spells, including the [furrow] and [smooth earth] spells used by the first farm hand they'd seen. She reminded them that food grown within a dungeon maintained its nutritional value longer, but seeds from those plants would no longer grow in the Primeland due to the plants' increased magical needs. She told them the names of some of the plants and animals around them, and to Bup's eager inquiries, responded with a brief overview of the local ecosystem that was primarily controlled by a mid-sized cat species that grew to be slighter larger than a lamb. They were [aware] and collaborated with the farmers well most of the time.
"But why don't the [glade panthers] ever leave?" Lissa asked.
Mistress Glee nodded slowly, measuring her answer, "That is an excellent question, Mellissa. I will be frank and tell you that no one is quite sure. There are almost no reliable accounts of dungeon dwelling creatures, aware or not, leaving their native environs. We have ample evidence of creatures from the Primeland entering dungeons, but to our limited knowledge, no creatures from inside dungeons ever even attempt to leave. Whether due to universal disinterest or some underlying truth about the world we have yet to discern, it is generally accepted that dungeon creatures will not and cannot leave their dungeon homes. Some argue that the gods prevent it, but there is no more evidence to support that idea than the idea that they are universally afraid of mirrors.
"Regardless of why it is so, remember this: if you are in immediate and mortal danger within a dungeon, run back through the [threshold] to escape. Do not hesitate. Run." She added quietly, turning toward Drust, "I'm sure your uncle can tell you what happens if you choose otherwise."
Drust nodded darkly, not saying anything.
"Well, if everyone is finished with their lunches, let's get to the exciting part of this field trip. You two are going to run the [floating stairs]!"