Dungeon Walkers 1

by Daniel Schinhofen

  Stern reached out a hand to her, trying to get his mouth to form the words.

  “It’s attacking her! Get it!” came a cry from down the street.

  Cyra jerked up and looked past Stern to where a small mob was rushing their way. The anger and fear on their faces were easy for her to see. The few in the lead were holding weapons in their hands.

  Understanding hit Cyra in a rush. She scrambled past Stern, dropping Pawly as she went. She lunged to her feet and held her arms wide. “Stop!”

  “Move! The blighted has to die!” the foremost man snapped at her. “It corrupted her mind! Hold her back while we kill it!”

  Pawly yowled and sprang in front of Cyra. Fur standing up, she was an unexploded bundle of fear that hiss and spat. That got the crowd to hesitate— animals normally feared the blighted, and this one was facing them instead of the creature.

  “Pawly, don’t,” Stern said, climbing to his feet behind Cyra. “There’s a misunderstanding here.”

  “It’ll charm us all if we don’t stop it!” someone in the back shouted.

  Stern’s fingers flexed and Pawly suddenly grew much larger, shifted in place, and had tentacles. “I’m not a fucking blighted!”

  “He’s not!” Cyra shouted. “He’s a Walker!”

  The man in the lead had a lead badge with two dungeons on it. He frowned and noticed the badge on Cyra’s outfit, then leaned to the side and noted Stern’s. “What in the Goddess’ name is happening?!”

  Pawly yowled and her tentacles lashed the ground.

  “Easy, easy,” Stern said to her, then addressed the crowd again. “I’m not blighted. I’m an irregular.”

  The crowd looked uncertain, but the man in the back shouted, “He’s lying! Get him!”

  The Walker in the front spun on the crowd. “Shut your damned gob! He’s got a badge on and so does she! Blighted have never come this far south! Break it up!”

  “Why was he chasing her, then?” the voice from the back demanded.

  Both Cyra and Stern flushed, and neither looked at the crowd.

  The leader of the mob snorted and started to walk away. “I don’t know, genius. Why does any man chase a woman of similar age?”

  The mob broke apart, leaving Stern and Cyra at the mouth of an alley, both of them embarrassed and nervous.

  Pawly looked back at Stern and waved a paw.

  Stern swallowed and cleared his throat. “Go home. I’ll call you back soon.”

  With Pawly gone and the crowd leaving, Cyra swallowed the lump in her throat. She was sure Stern had been sorry for saving her and wanted her gone, but then he chased her, clearly worried for her.

  Stern swayed slightly on his feet as Cyra’s emotions ripped at him. Clamping down on his own emotions, he did his best to push through hers. “Cyra, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have barged in. I heard you cry out and was afraid that something had happened. Mom would be pissed at me if she found out that I barged into your room. I don’t know how to ever really apologize for that, but I’ll try, okay? I promise.”

  Cyra blinked, looking at the street. Her back had been to him as Stern spewed out his apology in a jumbled rush of words. When the words sank in, her fear started to ebb and her embarrassment climbed high.

  “You… you didn’t… want me to leave? You don’t think saving me was a mistake?” she asked, her voice was barely audible.

  “What? No! Not at all. I haven’t had many friends, and I don’t want to lose one. Especially not you.”

  His words slammed into her heart and Cyra hiccupped, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I’m an idiot...”

  “We can be idiots together,” Stern said softly, touching her shoulder tentatively, “if that’s okay with you?”

  Spinning around, she hugged him, her face in his breastbone. Her ears slapped him in the face, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he held her back, his heart unclenching as her fear faded and happiness replaced it.

  “I made breakfast to apologize,” Stern said after a moment. “The words got stuck when I saw how afraid you were. I thought you were afraid of me because…” He trailed off when the memory of her in bed flooded his mind.

  Cyra stiffened slightly, then sniffled and laughed. “Oh... Pawly sneezed in my face and stepped on my breast. You came to check on me because I cried out?”

  “Fucking Pawly,” Stern sighed. “No wonder she wanted to go home.”

  Cyra laughed then— a real laugh— as she eased away from him and wiped at her face. “She’s a menace, but I love her.”

  “Yeah, I know how that is,” Stern said. “Breakfast is cold now, but we can go eat.”

  Cyra glanced up at him, then away. “I’m sorry, Stern.”

  “So am I,” Stern said softly. “You’re wanted here. Try to hold to that thought, okay? If you doubt it, talk to me.”

  Cyra looked at the street again. “I’ll try.”

  “That’s all I can ask. Does cold food sound good to you?”

  “Since you cooked it for me, yes.”

  “I hope it lives up to your expectations,” Stern said. “We have a dungeon to run after breakfast, if you’re still up for it?”

  “Yes, please.”

  ~*~*~

  Breakfast was a little awkward, but was drastically better than the start of their morning. Pawly had been appreciative of the food and was ready to go before they were. Stern was the last one ready, as it took some time to get all of his armor on.

  “Sorry about the delay,” Stern said. “I’m good. We have a stop on the way.”

  “Where at?” Cyra asked as they left the suite.

  “The dojo. We need to reserve a training room for the next few months. We’ll be there most days after today.”

  Cyra nodded and gave Jensen a smile as they entered the lobby. “Sorry for earlier.”

  “As long as everything’s okay,” Jensen said, giving Stern a hard look.

  Stern stopped at the desk and locked eyes with Jensen. “I will never willingly hurt her.”

  Jensen took a step back. “I… uh…”

  Stern relaxed his expression. “Relax. I’m glad you worried about her. Cyra will never have to worry about me hurting her, though.”

  “It was really my fault...” Cyra said softly. “I misunderstood, thinking he wanted me to leave.”

  “Ah, okay,” Jensen said, rubbing his neck. “It’s not really my place. I just feel bad if I see women crying.”

  “That’s fair,” Stern said and held out his hand. “You still have my thanks for worrying for her.”

  Jensen shook his hand. “Glad it wasn’t what it looked like. You’ve been a good guest. I would have hated to cut ties.”

  “We’re off to the dungeon,” Stern said. “See you later.”

  “Later,” Jensen said as they passed him.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Cyra said.

  “Jensen’s been fair to me. Hell, he barely balked when I showed up the first time. I would have hated trying to find another place to stay. And no, you aren’t making trouble, so stop thinking that.”

  Cyra jerked and Stern laughed. “How did you know?”

  “Your emotions, and it made the most sense as to why you felt that way.”

  Cyra’s lips twitched. “At least it’s not mind reading. That would be hard to deal with, never being able to keep things to yourself.”

  Stern considered her words for a bit as they walked. “If I could control it, I’d take it over what I have right now. At least then, I’d have a choice. If it was uncontrolled like my empathic problem... then, yeah, hard pass. If someone I cared for could…? I don’t know. I might be okay with it.”

  “Really?”

  “Depending on how well I knew them,” Stern hedged. “I do have some secrets, so that would be awkward if I didn’t trust them.”

  “Oh, I can see that.”

  “Everyone has secrets they don’t want known. Things as silly as liking someone to something as big as having killed a person.”

  �
�That makes sense,” Cyra said, glad he wasn’t looking her way.

  “The large building right there is the dojo,” Stern said, changing the topic.

  “It looks just like the one in Bloodstone.”

  “They look the same in every city. The dojo, academy, and all of the government buildings look the same no matter what city you go to.”

  “Have you been to many?” Cyra asked.

  Stern cursed himself internally, but answered her truthfully, “A few dozen. My family took trips, especially as we got older.”

  “Oh? That must have been amazing.”

  “It was and wasn’t,” Stern said, thinking back. Clearing his throat, he motioned to the building. “It won’t take long. Have you been inside before?”

  “Just the two months during the academy,” Cyra said. “The instructor ignored me after the first day.”

  Stern’s lips twisted in disapproval as he thought of why that might have happened. “Hmm... They’re supposed to give you training at least to make sure you have a rudimentary idea of how to defend yourself.”

  “I did the best I could alone.”

  Entering the dojo, Stern paused just inside the door. An angelic woman sat behind the desk in the lobby.

  “Stern? We did not expect to see you back here,” the receptionist said with a broad smile.

  “I’m sure you didn’t, Velina. I need to have a room set aside for me for two or three months.”

  “Grandfather will be happy to have you back. Are you willing to have the same deal as before?”

  “It depends. Velina, this is Cyra. She needs training. The Bloodstone dojo failed her, as did the academy there. She’ll be training with me.”

  Velina gave Cyra a piercing stare. “They failed you?”

  “I completed the course, but… it wasn’t because of me.”

  Velina’s eyebrow shot up and she turned back to Stern. “Can you explain this?”

  “The mayor’s son pulled strings. He wanted her to pass, but without training,” Stern said grimly.

  Velina’s eyes narrowed. “And where is this person now?”

  “Dead. He attacked me in the streets of Bloodstone.”

  Satisfaction gleamed in her eyes. “Well, then, we shall accommodate this, and I will oversee her training.” She looked back at Cyra. “If that is acceptable?”

  “She’s a good trainer,” Stern said, seeing Cyra’s hesitation, “and she’s about your size, so you’d probably learn better with her than with me.”

  “I accept,” Cyra said, “but umm... we’ll train together, too, right?”

  “Of course. Her grandfather will take up most of my time, though.”

  “Indeed, I will,” said the powerful voice from behind Stern.

  Cyra turned to find a short, ebony-skinned man with white wings folded against his back. He was aged with lines around his eyes and slightly curled, arthritic hands. She was surprised the voice had come from him.

  “Master Winla, it’s a pleasure,” Stern said, turning around to face the old man.

  “No, it shall be mine,” Winla smiled, his white teeth gleaming. “You appear to be on your way to the dungeon.”

  “Today, yes. We’ll be by tomorrow to train, and then every day thereafter for at least two months while we wait for armor being made. Oh, Velina, please find her a weapon that works? We’ll have to pick one up before we leave.”

  “Of course.” Velina smiled at Cyra. “Tomorrow will be an easy day, but the faster you learn, the faster we teach.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Cyra said.

  “Ma’am? I’m only a few years older than you,” Velina snorted. “Velina is fine, or miss.”

  “Yes, Velina.”

  “I shall look forward to tomorrow,” Winla smiled. “You will not have an easy day.”

  “I figured,” Stern said, shaking hands with the small man. “Tomorrow, sir.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  As they stepped outside, Cyra glanced back at the dojo. “Is he skilled?”

  “One of the most skilled men I’ve ever fought,” Stern said. “He’s a retired bright-steel-badged Walker. He takes it easy on me because I don’t have any offensive perks. He’ll be sad to hear I still don’t have any.”

  Pawly meowed.

  “Oh, he’ll love your upgrades,” Stern chuckled, “but it means he won’t be able to go all out against me, either.”

  “What was his role when he was a Walker?”

  “Bulwark,” Stern replied. “From the little I’ve heard from him and Velina, he was a damned good one.”

  “His crew?”

  “No, they all made it out. They just decided it was time to stop pushing. They went their separate ways, all picking up simple trades to enjoy. They get together once a year to catch up.”

  “Oh,” Cyra said smiling. “So not all crews end badly? I had thought…”

  “Not all, but most,” Stern said.

  “Maybe we’ll be like his crew?” Cyra murmured.

  “Maybe,” Stern said, hoping she was right.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Stern snorted at the open, grassy plain they were standing in. “Cyra, your Life Sense is about to be even more amazing for us.”

  Cyra looked at the field of nearly waist-high grass in surprise. “There’s no tunnels or trees hemming us in.”

  “Nope. This is an open dungeon. There’s an invisible wall that surrounds the area. Last time I had one of these, it was large-clawed, sharp-toothed squirrels. I doubt it’ll be them again.” Stern had been doing his hand motions as he spoke, and Pawly meowed when all of her improvements washed over her. “Pawly will be the speartip, but you get to point us in the right direction. We want to find the wall and circle around first, as most of the mobs here will stay relatively close to their original point. At least they will at this low of a dungeon level.”

  “Okay, umm... which way is the closest wall?”

  “There’s no saying for certain, but Dad always recommended going backward.” Stern hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Last time Pawly and I did a dungeon like this, I stayed down so as not to get ambushed. There’s no need to do that if you can keep Life Sense pulsing away.”

  “Okay. I haven’t tried to keep it active all the time before, so we can see what happens?”

  “Pawly, low and slow. We’re going to stay standing, but listen for Cyra to tell you when we get close to something. There’s no saying what the monsters here are going to be.”

  Pawly chuffed and began to slink in the direction Stern had motioned to earlier.

  They’d only gone a short distance when Cyra said, “Two ahead, maybe ten feet away.”

  Pawly crept slower, Stern had his two daggers in hand, and Cyra clutched his third one. Stern froze in place when he saw a head pop up above the grass for a moment. Cyra stopped beside him, puzzled by the brief glimpse.

  “Pawly, ferretinas!” Stern called out.

  Pawly hissed and her tentacles lashed out, scything through the grass. Large chunks of the vegetation went flying as Pawly fought to clear the area around her.

  “Fuck!” Stern hissed as he scanned the grass for movement.

  “They’re coming… err…? Maybe,” Cyra said as she held onto Life Sense.

  “War dance,” Stern told her. “They’re coming, but erratically. The bigger ones can literally mesmerize you, but these are smaller, so they’ll just be erratic and hard to hit.”

  Cyra’s eyes went wide and she looked around her where two pulses of life were moving closer. “What do we do?”

  “Get ready. They can be fast and are extremely agile. Hitting one is a challenge.”

  “Just ahead of you!” Cyra called out to Pawly.

  Out of the grass in front of Pawly, a three-foot-long, ferret-like creature came tumbling. With a small bouncing flip, it vanished into the grass again. A second one came darting out before rolling to the side, then springing backward.

  Pawly’s head whipped side to side as she tried to unde
rstand what the beasts were doing. Her tentacles quivered as she decided which one she should attack and when.

  “Mind the claws and teeth,” Stern warned Cyra. “They might not kill you right away, but they’ll gash you open easily.”

  Cyra swallowed the lump in her throat and quietly wished she already had her armor.