When people said they wished to feel young again, Autumn didn’t imagine they meant it this literally.

As she stepped through the doorway and back into the first room, Autumn’s perspective shrunk rapidly. In a near instant, she lost several feet from her height as her body magically regressed back to her thirteen-year-old self. Disorientation claimed her vision, leaving her blinking dizzily in confusion as the room swam.

Darkness claimed her vision.

Startled by her hat’s descent, Autumn jumped. She reached up with her heart a thundering and pushed her now oversized hat up and out of her eyes so that she could look about the room with newfound apprehension. Raven locks spooked her once more as they fluttered down her round, freckled face from their hatted confines.

Everything was much bigger now. Much more frightening.

It wasn’t just the room that felt bigger all of a sudden. Her clothing hadn’t shrunk with her.

Autumn’s jittery movements spilled her tunic further down her collarbone. Her body, bereft of adulthood, swam in the baggy clothing. Only her magical belt kept her from embarrassment, as it conveniently resized around her new, or perhaps old, waistline and kept her pants held firm. Honestly, she felt like she was playing dress-up in her mother’s closet once more.

Her chest tightened with memory. Tears pricked at her eyes, unwanted and uninvited.

“Stupid hormones,” Autumn muttered.

The sound of muffled squealing from behind her had Autumn spinning around sharply with a blushing glare. She met eyes with an excitable Eme. “Not a word,” Autumn growled. Or at least, she tried to — her voice came out far higher pitched and squeaky than she intended it to.

“So cute~” Eme breathed out.

Red-faced, Autumn stamped her foot and crossed her arms. “Am not!”

Her face lit up even brighter when what she'd just done registered. Flames licked her cheeks as Eme giggled. Turning away, she huffed. “S-shut up, y-you…you!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Eme giggled, not sorry at all. “You just look so cute, is all!”

“Do not,” Autumn muttered under her breath. Walking deeper into the room, she grumbled louder over her shoulder. “Are you going to just keep laughing at me, or are you coming?”

“H-hey wait up! I’m coming! I’m coming!”

A curious Autumn stopped and cast a glance back over her shoulder just in time to see the other girl pass through the doorway. Like what’d happened with her, a wave of chronomagical force washed over the bard.

Eme stumbled as her height suddenly changed. Wide wet eyes a little too big for her rounded face blinked in confusion and shock at the loss. Her button nose screwed up cutely as a pair of tiny ears twitched wildly atop a head of sable hair. Dark locks drifted down to her delicate chin, swaying softly as she glanced around.

The catgirl started as her now baggy clothes slipped slightly with her movements. Hurriedly, she grabbed at her belt with her good hand before it could slip any further down her tiny frame. Her other arm of dragonbone hadn’t shrunk with her and hung starkly mismatched on her other side. She could seemingly still control it fine, albeit with minor difficulty.

A blush, beat-red, alighted upon the catgirl’s face as she secured herself from further embarrassment with a subtle tightening of leather around her waist.

Of years she now bore upon her, twelve was Autumn’s guess.

Said witch stood stunned across from the tiny catgirl. She felt drugged — a heady cocktail of teenage emotions whirled wildly in her mind.

Eme met her guileless gaze with one of her own.

Awkward shyness ignited the air.

“U-umm,” Eme spoke quietly, her voice shaky with a sudden onset of a nervousness she could not name. “Sh-shouldn’t we go and, um, look at that door now? Only if you want to, that is!”

Autumn started as Eme’s childish voice sounded in her ears like milk. “Yesh—” she bit her tongue. “Um, yes. We should. Do you— do you want to hold hands, or something?” she asked, red-faced.

Eme blushed, but nodded enthusiastically.

After juggling the softened clay into one hand, and after she’d wiped her sweaty palm on her pants, Autumn held a hand out for Eme to take. The catgirl did so eagerly, practically teleporting over to Autumn’s side to thread her own into Autumn’s.

Red-faced, they couldn’t meet the other’s eyes.

A warmth kind radiated from their connected hands, soothing their wears and worries.

Autumn pondered upon the strange bubbling of affection in her chest and the lightness buoying her steps as she made her way hand in hand with her g-girlfriend towards the western door. Was this hope that she now felt? A playfulness? Was it the gaiety of youth that expectation and adulthood had long since killed?

Perhaps.

It felt strange to be sure. Especially here.

It wasn’t like she’d forgotten the horror that’d befallen her on this long journey, but right now there was a spark of adventure to it. Here she was, a nobody girl from a nowhere town exploring a world untold but by myths and legends. She’d entreated fairies and demons, fought angels and undead, delved deep into tombs and depths not seen by human eyes before.

And she had a quest. Her. Autumn. Friendless, loner Autumn had a quest to slay evil and save the world.

It was…amazing, and frightening at the same time.

Perhaps it was the naivety of youth, but she felt like all would work out fine in the end.

Autumn was startled from her ruminations by their arrival at the locked door. Looking down at her occupied hand, she coughed lightly.

“Uh, Eme, I kinda need my hand back.”

Eme pouted. “I don’t wanna,” she whined, clutching tighter to Autumn’s hand. The catgirl bard blushed a brilliant vermillion at her own actions, but still didn’t forfeit the hand she’d claimed.

How anyone could blush that much, Autumn didn’t know. Not that she was much better. Heat washed over her cheeks as her heart beat painfully at her girlfriend’s possessively cute actions.

Tugging at their connected hands, Autumn offered a compromise. “We can h-hold hands again later, so how about for now you help me make this key, okay?”

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“Okay~,” Eme whined. “But remember, you promised!”

“Yes, yes.”

With her other hand finally freed, Autumn withdrew her wand from her sleeve and, with a wave, cleaned out the residual flakes of old clay from the lock. It was too bad that she didn't know any knock-type spells to unlock the door. Not that she expected such to work when up against divine magic.

After the lock was suitably spotless, she cut off a handful of clay from the pound’s worth she’d brought with her, handing the rest off to Eme while she worked.

It took a bit of effort to work the soft clay into the lock and shape it into an impression of the key that’d hopefully unlock it.

Autumn didn’t even know if her plan would work out as she intended it to. It was just a hunch, after all. One whose only evidence was of some flakes of dried clay that might, might, indicate that someone had tried what she was doing before, with no evidence of success. But what other options did she have? She’d seen no other key in any of the other rooms and the door they’d unlocked ate the gemstone key.

If it didn’t…well, they could always leave, as galling as that was.

After carefully withdrawing the shaped clay key from the door, Autumn turned to Eme, ready to inform her she was done. However, before she could speak, the catgirl thrust a small clay figurine into her face.

“Look! Look! Look at what I made!” Eme said proudly. “What do you think?”

Autumn leant back to get a better look at the figurine.

An artist, Eme was not. Her sculpture was quite ugly, even for something made in such a short time. It looked mostly like a squat humanoid, but even that was stretching the bounds of Autumn’s imagination. She couldn’t tell if the nubs on what passed for a head were supposed to be ears or horns.

“That’s very cute,” Autumn praised.

Eme beamed. “It’s Nethlia! See her horns and war-hammer!”

Even when it was pointed out to her, Autumn couldn’t see it. The war-hammer looked more like a deformed hand to her.

“I’m sure she’ll love it. So, uh, how about we go back and show her? I’ve finished up here.”

“Okay!” Eme chirped. “B-but you have to h-hold my hand! You promised!”

Autumn blushed once more at Eme’s demands. Taking the other girl’s hand in her own, she quickly marched over to the doorway that led back into the middle room where the others awaited their return, likely still butchering what they could from the rotting carcass of the dragon-like creature.

‘Dragons!’ Autumn gushed in her mind.

As the pair crossed back over the threshold, time took a hold of them once more and swiftly returned them to their natural ages. Autumn stumbled again as her height changed.

Eme let out a startled squeak as her tightened belt strained dangerously around her waist. Thankfully, she was able to loosen it before anything broke. Either her or the belt.

Shaking off the remnants of childish emotions, Autumn glanced down at the clay in her hand. It’d hardened as they had. Not quite enough to risk use, but another door older would see it right.

“Ugh,” Eme whimpered as she massaged her waist. “That was certainly strange. Not bad,” she reassured Autumn upon seeing a look of concern flash across the witch’s features. “Just…strange. I acted so stupid.”

The catgirl looked like she wanted nothing more than to find a hole to curl up in and cry, never to come out again — she could barely look Autumn in the eye as she glared down at the ugly clay sculpture in her hand.

Autumn could commiserate. Her own actions would forever haunt her.

Eme’s voice broke the witch from her spiral of introverted flagellation. “Why did I think this stupid thing looked good?” she cried.

“It’s not that bad,” Autumn tried.

Eme shook her head with a self-deprecating laugh. “It is. Thanks though. You know, for trying and for not telling me it was uglier than a swamp troll’s mother when I was stupid. I might’ve cried if you had.”

“Are you still going to show it to Nethlia?” Autumn teased.

“No,” Eme huffed. “And don’t you dare tell her!”

“Tell me what?”

Autumn and Eme jumped as Nethlia's voice interrupted them. Turning back to the room, they saw the amused demoness had somehow crept up on them while they were talking. Eme hid the figurine behind her back hurriedly, which elicited a raised eyebrow from the berserker.

“That, uhhh,” Eme trailed off, her eyes begging Autumn for help.

“We were just talking about the mental effect the door had on us?” Autumn said.

Nethlia looked beyond them, gazing into the room behind the pair. “Mental effects? Like what? Is it dangerous?”

“Potentially. The magic doesn’t just make your body younger, but your mind too. My emotions were as messy as they were back then, unfortunately. I don’t know about Eme, but I could still remember what I needed to do — it was just colored by a different perspective.”

“I just wanted to play and hold hands with Autumn,” Eme admitted with another blush.

Nethlia snorted. “I’ll bear that in mind. How did your experiment go?” she asked Autumn.

Autumn held the key up. “Fairly well. I just need to take it around, then we’ll see if it actually works. Here’s hoping. Did anyone find another key?”

“No. And not for a lack of trying, either. We even searched the wyrmling’s stomach on the off chance it swallowed something important or valuable. It was as unrewarding as it was unpleasant,” Nethlia said with a grimace, which the other two matched. “Aside from that, we gathered up a few bits and pieces of junk from the bodies along with a few pounds of loose scales. I set some of the healthier bones aside for you. Only from the wyrmling, though. You, uh, didn’t want the elven bones, right?”

Autumn shook her head. “No, that’s not…I don’t think I’m comfortable using bones from people.”

At least, not yet.

Nethlia looked marginally relieved. “Alright, just checking. How much longer do you think you’ll be? We’re almost done here.”

“Not much longer. I just need to take the key around the way we came and check if it’ll actually unlock the door. Here’s hoping. I also want to see what’ll happen to something that passes through an aging door twice in a row. Probably nothing good, but it’ll be good to know for certain.”

“Alright, just be careful. I’ll get the others ready to move. Mind lending me your belt so I can put the stuff away?”

“Sure thing,” Autumn said, unbuckling her belt of holding to hand over to Nethlia.

As the demoness turned away, Autumn looked to Eme. “You coming with? Or are you going to wait with the others?”

“And stay in this stench?” Eme joked, covering her sensitive nose with a hand. “No thank you.”

“Want me to hold your hand again?”

Eme blushed. “I know you’re just teasing me, but I’d like that very much.”

Smiling dumbly, Autumn took Eme’s hand into her own and pulled the catgirl towards the clay room, taking the long way around to the first room. If the bard stopped to hide her ugly statue amongst the shattered pottery and statues, Autumn wouldn't tattle. The only evidence of such an occurrence lay in her stifled giggles.

As they re-entered the first room for the third time, twice now older than they ought to be, Autumn looked at the clay key clutched in her palm. Thankfully, it was as hard as stone.

One fear eased, another to come.

The western door loomed locked before them. Swallowing her nerves, Autumn approached and placed the hardened key into the awaiting lock. It clicked into place gently. To the north, the others watched on from the other room, ready for violence unexpected.

Nothing seemed to happen.

Autumn grit her teeth, snarling slightly as the door refused her tribute.

“Work, damnit!”

Reaching out in annoyance, she pounded on the clay key, providing it with some gentle percussive persuasion. A dull thud resonated from the door as the key shifted slightly and aligned properly with the lock. Like the last, the mechanism stole the key as it unlocked. With a grinding sound of stone upon stone, the door swung slightly ajar, allowing the pair to glance into the room beyond.

“Huh, I guess that works,” Autumn said, as she massaged her hand.

The room was dark. Pitch black.

As she peered into that bleak nothingness, Autumn held her lantern light steadily aloft to banish back the creeping dread. Soft illumination washed over the chamber, revealing a room mirrored from the one across the way. But that was not all, for milky eyes and hollow sockets glinted wetly in her cast light.

Amongst scattered dust and bones littering the floor, a quartet of undead stood idle. Sloughed flesh clung wretchedly to grim bones beneath armor rusted and dull. Tarnished blades hung loosely in ruined hands.

Gurgled groans robbed the joy from the air.

Of the four fallen and risen again, one looked stranger than most — it beheld an intelligence foul the others lacked. It ground a great claymore of rust through the stones below as it turned towards the sounds intruding into its domain of undeath.

Hurriedly, Autumn dragged Eme away from the ajar door.

The wight watched them go.