Dungeon Wars

by Jeffrey Logue

  “Well, I think it’s safe to say we’ve been noticed,” Anadine observed, moving into the clearing proper. Rowen followed closely behind. The two leaders waited patiently for them to reach them, the angry snarls of the other forest lions dying down as curiosity overtook them.

  Rowen held up a tentacle and waved it back and forth in greeting. The kobold leader copied the movement with his spear, the forest lion with its tail. He turned to look at Anadine and shrugged.

  “Well, now what?” Anadine asked. “Doc, do you have any ideas?”

  “One meat sack speaking is just the same as another, in my view,” he admitted. “While I didn’t fully understand them, I think it’s safe to say both the forest lion and lesser kobold leader can understand intentions. Try making pictures with your bodies.”

  “You’re the mimic type here,” Rowen pointed out. “Give it a go and see what happens.”

  Sighing Anadine considered her options. An idea striking her, the blue slime produced a tentacle and used it to draw a large circle on the ground between everyone. The forest lion looked on curiously, while the kobold leader seemed impatient.

  Outside her circle, Anadine made tree-like figures and wolves, before moving to the center of the circle and drawing the dungeon entrance.

  “My entrance does not look that bad!” Doc protest in the background.

  Ignoring the feedback, Anadine continued to draw poor versions of the forest lion, slimes, and kobolds under the dungeon entrance. She then drew line from the forest and wolves to the dungeon, before using her tentacle to whack every wolf drawing she had made. To further illustrate her point, she used her boss powers to take the form of both the forest lion and the kobold leader, using both of their forms to gently pat Rowen.

  The two beings looked on blankly.

  “I’m not sure you’ve gotten anything through to them, but I must say, I was very much amused,” Rowen admitted.

  “I did the same kind of thing with deaf orphans back when I was a human,” the blue slime said evenly, waiting patiently. “If either one has a good grasp of wisdom, they’ll get it.”

  After a moment, the kobold leader tapped his spear on the ground before tipping it to point to the forest. Using its edge, he drew what appeared to be a kobold, but larger and with lots of teeth. He then turned and left.

  The forest lion yawned then jumped back to free its brethren. The freed forest lions fled at once, but the resident lion took a moment to scratch one of the wolves and give a faint growl before vanishing himself.

  “Well, no one died. That’s as good a negotiation as I’ve seen,” Doc praised. “Come back home, you two. We need to prepare for Claire’s next awakening.”

  The two left, but Rowen took one last look at the map. The large kobold stuck out to him, the one with many teeth. Perhaps it was more of a warning than they had given it credit.

  Chapter 23

  Claire blinked her eyes, gazing as the blue sky slowly peaked out from the clouds. As she lay still, her limbs spread around her, the comforting rays of the sun touched down to tickle her nose and warm her spirit. She let out a contented sigh.

  “Claire? Claire, where are you?” a voice echoed from somewhere in the distance.

  Claire smiled and leaned up, allowing her wings to spread free. “Over here, father!” she cried out in greeting.

  From the greenery in the forest, the form of a man appeared. Taller than Claire, with green hair and a smooth face, her father flew over and landed next to her, embracing Claire in a hug.

  “My precious daughter, your mother has been calling for you,” he admonished. “Lunch is ready, and you don’t want her hot meal to get cool.”

  “Sorry, I was just watching the sun and sky return from the rain,” Claire apologized.

  Her father smiled and rubbed her head. “Silly girl, you can watch the sky from the dungeon entrance. Why come so far out her into the forest? Are you hiding something, or someone, from me?” He poked her cheek questioningly.

  Claire giggled. “No, I just like the smell of the wet leaves vanishing under the light. And, I wanted to get away from the dungeon.”

  Her father’s smile disappeared for just the faintest of moments before reappearing. “Well, then I guess your mother and I will just have to plant some trees around the entrance, won’t we? Can’t have you leaving home every time it stops raining, after all.”

  “You’re the best father,” Claire said happily as she embraced him. When the hug was completed, he reached his hand down and helped Claire up to her feet. The two took off together and flew back to the dungeon entrance.

  The entrance was a collapsed temple, complete with white pillars covered in moss and tangling weeds draping down from the ceiling. The pair flew in, startling the various animals making their nests on the top level. Tiny birds and small furry animals hid before poking their heads out cautiously. Upon seeing the two pixies, they left their hiding spots and returned to chittering and tweeting away. Claire, though wanting to stop and hug a particularly chubby chipmunk, forced herself to continue flying with her father down into the dungeon depths.

  The tunnels they flew down passed by in a blur, with Claire losing track of where they were and what the surroundings looked like as she flew past. Past the traps and the furry monsters roaming the halls, they finally landed in front of the door leading into their home. Claire’s home sat in a room away from the dungeon heart, safely tucked away from any wandering dangers. The doorway was a splendid arch with an oak door. The wall had a pedestal out front with a pair chairs and a table sitting close to the edge. Her father opened the door and led Claire into the cozy and warm entranceway.

  “We’re home,” her father called out, dusting his wings and feet with a feather before crossing onto the wood floors.

  “I’m at the table,” Claire heard her mother call back, the sound of dishes making soft clanking noises as they were placed down. Excited, the young pixie girl ran past a mirror with no reflection and burst into the dining room. There stood her mother, beautiful in a white dress with black patterns, smiling at her daughter as she placed the last food, a porcelain container holding a honeyed nut dish, onto the plant-grown table.

  “It’s your favorite,” Claire’s mother said, “blooded honey nut casserole.”

  Claire’s smile faltered for a moment. “Excuse me, mother, but what did you say?”

  “A flooded honey nut casserole,” she answered, giving her daughter a concerned look. “Are you okay my precious daughter?”

  “She was in the woods again,” her father explained as he answered. “Was watching the sun pierce the clouds and smelling the plants. I think she may have become dehydrated.”

  “Oh Claire,” her mother admonished, “haven’t I told you not to go so far away? What if you get really hungry or thirsty? Your father and I shall have to plant some trees post-haste to control that wanderlust of yours.”

  “Thanks, mother, you’re the best,” Claire gushed happily.

  Sitting down at the table together, the three pixies served themselves and dug into the meal with relish.

  “Oh Claire,” her mother said after swallowing a mouthful of honey wine, “I forgot to mention, but your brothers will be paying us a visit today.”

  Claire, her fork halfway up to her mouth, froze.

  “Oh, which ones are coming?” her father asked, not noticing Claire’s state.

  “Well, all of them,” her mother announced happily. “I’m so excited. I haven’t seen my boys together in such a long time. Why, it’ll be such a marvelous family reunion.”

  “I’m so happy for you, dear,” her father said, his tone slightly off. “I know how important family is to you, after all.”

  “Mother,” Claire said softly. “Can—can I please be excused?”

  “Oh, but Claire,” her mother said, turning to face her. “How can you be going so soon? Look, you haven’t even touched my special desert, belladonna toffee. Why, it’s to die for.”

  “It really
is, Claire,” her father spoke up, drawing her attention. “Look, I love this candy your mother makes so much.” Stiffly, he threw piece after piece of toffee into his mouth and swallowed, failing even to chew.

  “Father, you should stop,” Claire whispered, fear rising inside her. “Father, you’ll—you’ll get sick eating so many.”

  “Oh, and Claire, I need your help,” her mother said suddenly. “I’ve arranged such a marvelous entertainment for the night, after all, in honor of your very special brothers. I need your thoughts on the matter.” She gestured, and the house vanished as she and Claire reappeared looking over a large coliseum. “Tell me, do you think having all my ex-husbands fight to the undeath is entertaining enough?”

  Down in on the floor, Claire’s father stared up into her eyes. Slowly, mortifyingly horribly, his skin melted down off his body, leaving only a ghoulish pixie skeleton standing. Around it, other skeletons rose up and began brawling with each other.

  “Mother, no,” Claire gasped in terror.

  “You’re right,” her mother sighed.” Having skeletons fighting is just so last year. Not enough flesh. But you’ll do.”

  Claire screamed as inhuman strength threw her down into the stadium below. There, the horde of undead pixies turned and rushed her, swarming with clattering teeth that sunk deep into her flesh. Claire screamed, and screamed, and screamed as she felt her flesh being ripped apart, torn away, and mashed under the weight of death. She stared up at the blue sky, yearning for rescue, only to find her father’s winged skeleton staring down on her. He lunged, and Claire cried out in the middle of her mother’s laughter.

  “Doc, save me!”

  *

  Blue lights faded away as Claire’s eyes slowly opened. However, unlike previous times, she felt no inclination to move, to even attempt to try to follow her mockery of a morning schedule. The fatigue, the weariness, it all felt too much, too heavy on her body. As she stared up at the ceiling, even her thoughts remained sluggish and disoriented. What had once been a pleasant escape from reality had transformed into a horror-filled nightmare, one she was unable to escape from. She still felt the pain of being devoured, so perhaps it had not been a dream. She’d experienced this before, after all.

  She must have still been in a dream, though, because Claire thought she could hear voices in her head. Familiar voices... from somewhere in the past.

  “Claire, Claire I need you to let us in. Claire wake up!”

  “Mother... no, Momma, please wake up. We need you, and we miss you!”

  “Hey Claire, open up. I haven’t finished learning how to be a boss from you. You can’t be sleeping on the job now.”

  “Claire, uh, well honestly I don’t know you that well. But I’d like to. You’ve seen the world from my eyes, and I guess I’d like to return the gesture.”

  Voices in her head, distracting her from what she needed, what she wanted: to go back to the dream, to escape the nightmare both there and in real life. Besides, she had no reason to move, to leave, to take a breath—

  Claire’s eyes widened suddenly as she began to choke. Shocking clarity returned to her, if only to reveal the desperation of her situation. Her room—her room—was covered in dull brown roots that weaved their way over and through everything. She herself was tied down to the bed, a prisoner of nature. As if mocking her, the Dream flowers bloomed all around her with deep blue petals. As they glistened and glowed, however, Claire felt her very mana being drained by the roots to feed the plant. She couldn’t even muster up the energy to scream, let alone struggle against the slowly tightening hold. In her mind, a familiar memory played back through her mind.

  The memory of her and her father in the rain, but slightly different.

  *

  “Little sprout, there is little left I can grow in my garden. Your mother has been kind to me, in her own way. No, only a few more things are missing form my collection, the few that can stand to grow in such... conditions.”

  “Like what, Daddy?” Claire asked.

  Her father hummed to himself before answering. “I suppose the solaris flower, for one, or the fairy blossom. These and others do not require the light of the sun or the life of water, only mana. Rare as they are, they are hardy little plants, able to seek out mana to feed from any source and feast on it. That includes us, you know.” He punctuated his point by tapping Claire on her nose, eliciting another giggle.

  “Promise me you’ll be careful, little sprout,” he asked of her. “Alright? No messing with strange plants. After all, that’s how—”

  “Great Uncle Fin got eaten by a giant fly-eater flower,” Claire finished. “I remember, Daddy, and I always will!”

  “Good girl, sprout. Good girl...” her father trailed off as he looked back up at the rain.

  “Nice as it would be to complete my collection, neither your mother nor the dungeon would permit any of those rare plants inside,” he spoke once again with a feeling of grim humor. “Their precious supply of mana can’t be harmed, after all. The Dream flower in particular, your mother would fear I’d escape her grasp with it. It is the flower of deadly dreams, after all. Heh. A dream you can never escape from but is never true—a nightmare in disguise. No, only the real world can be such, for it is here that change can be found, as can salvation.”

  “Daddy?” Claire asked questioningly.

  Her father shook his head suddenly, the smile reappearing on his face as he focused back on his precious daughter. “I’m sorry, Claire, just some old musings from my past. Hey, want to learn to grow a seedling in stone?”

  *

  The flower of deadly dreams; that was what Dream flowers were known as. And she’d used it to full effect, only to awaken to the nightmare of reality, which had been created by her own hand. The plant had taken over, killing everything and wiping all traces of existence beyond its own. A slight tingle in her arms made her look down, only to see the horrifying sight of roots attempting to break into her skin, to burrow inside her and become her. The irony of which being she consumed the flower to escape reality, only to become the flower in reality.

  A fate she did not wish to possess. Claire attempted to scream but shut her mouth quickly as a root attempted to enter. It poked at her lips, seeking entrance, as the pixie squeezed so tightly she felt blood trickle down her teeth. It wouldn’t be long now before a root attempted to enter her nose or ears.

  In her mind, she could still hear the voices and calls from her family: her dungeon, her precious daughters, and her new friends. Without her mana, she could not answer them, not grant them permission to enter her home. They would be unable to help so long as her door remained closed. The realization hit her as she felt her chest begin to tighten under the squeezing of the roots.

  With her last bits of mana, Claire cast a spell of wind, an element she often neglected due to her affinity to the ground. Still, it was enough to crack the door to her home ever so slightly, enough to break the boundary between home and dungeon, and enough to allow the roots to be distracted by a large source of mana emanating from outside. Her chest constricted and unable to breathe, Claire took one last breath as unconsciousness, true unconsciousness for the first time in what felt like years, took her. The last thing she saw was the roots wrenching the door open in order to find the mana, only to be overtaken by a flood of slime. She smiled at the familiar purple sight in the room through the doorway, and the light left her eyes.

  *

  “Anadine, save Claire!” Doc ordered as he felt Claire’s life force diminish. Anadine surged into Claire’s home the moment the door opened, squeezing her body into the pixie-sized hole in the wall. With a sudden pain, however, Anadine was forced out as a force attacked her and devoured her slime.

  “Doc, it’s some kind of plant!” she said as she retreated, followed closely behind by a web of small roots. Like a wave, the roots spread across the heart room wall and sunk themselves deep into the mana-rich stone, growing larger and thicker as the plant absorbed every trace of m
ana. The roots also shot out toward Doc’s floating crystal, though falling short of reaching it. Instead, they shot down tendrils to keep their balance as they continued on towards him.

  The four boss monsters instantly rushed to Doc’s defense, sprouting sharpened tentacles to whack and slice the roots before they could extend farther. It was a downhill battle however, as each attack only slowed the growth and could not kill it.

  “Doc, hurry and teleport this plant away!” Anadine cried as she was forced to leave a tentacle behind. “We won’t be able to hold it back for much longer!”

  A surge of magic blasted out of Doc’s crystal, and all the roots in the heart room vanished, only to be replaced by more roots surging out of Claire’s room.

  “Stupid plant! I can’t use my magic in Claire’s home due to our contract,” Doc roared in frustration as the four bosses resumed their defense. “There isn’t anything I can do to eliminate the core of this—thing.”

  “Doc, your astral bag!” Rowen called out. “You still have unenchanted weapons and magical tools capable of fire magic. Let’s use them.”

  “Good thinking, Rowen!” Doc cried out.

  After another flash of magic, weapons made of copper and iron landed around the bosses. Picking up daggers, swords, maces, and longswords, Anadine, Ayla, Aisha, and Rowen beat back the roots thoroughly, the plant unable to absorb their mana to continue the assault. Acting quickly, Doc cut his connection to the surrounding stone, depriving the roots of their easy mana source and rendering half of the heart room completely dark.

  Try as he might, however, he was unable to cut off the flow of mana into Claire’s room, allowing the plant to continue to feed off him. Worse still, Doc could feel the roots growing through the barren soil toward his dungeon, forcing him to divide his attention to prevent the plant from infiltrating the walls of the first and second floors. The ground shook as he summoned magic to blast and destroy each root he could reach.