A Living Dungeon

by Allan Joyal

  “Now,” the malice filled voice said. “Tell me where you hid your treasure.”

  “We left it in Tuvo, long before we climbed into the mountains,” Clayde said trying to sound confident.

  “You might have convinced Voriatz of that,” the voice said as a man stepped away from the shadows. He was wearing a hooded cloak that hid everything except his hands. Red and orange runes glowed on the back of hisrevealed hands as he approached Clayde. “However, I’m not quite so naïve. Now, unless you want to have an arm burned off tell me where you hid the stones you stole.”

  “Branlin and I left them in a small hollow under a rockslide just to the east of here. But I’m not sure exactly where they are. When Lystari came she fixed a ruin that was near and the stones moved,” Clayde said frantically as he tried to back away.

  “Fixed you say?” another deep voice asked as a second hooded figure emerged from the shadows. This one had glowing white runes in the back of his hands. “How does a woman fix a ruin?”

  “I wasn’t there,” Clayde said frantically. “Some of the boys in the village said that she waved her hand and the stone flowed like mud or water. It wasn’t just the ruin. There are squares of stone that enclose plots of land that Feldmar works like any field on a farm. She even helped the village. The woman went to the spring that is the source of our water and did something. Now the creek flows deeper.”

  “Our water?” the second voice asked.

  “I’ve hidden here for years,” Clayde said. “Do you think I haven’t been invited into the homes of the villagers?”

  “They shouldn’t have trusted you,” the first hooded figure said.

  “They have nothing worth stealing,” Clayde said.

  “I’m not sure they have nothing,” the second figure said. “You did say that Feldmar left thirteen years ago? How old is the supposed daughter of Lystari’s?”

  “Why is that important?” Clayde asked. “She’s doesn’t appear to be a teenager, but she’s no toddler. I’d say ask her, but she never talks and no one knows her name.”

  “No name?” the second figure said. “Interesting. I really doubt that. Every being has a name. But names have great power. And now I wonder. You said thirteen years? That just fits, if Lystari is….”

  “What?” the first hooded figure said. “You seem to be thinking of something.”

  “What do you know about dungeons Nerlun?” the second figure asked.

  “It’s where a king sticks a thief while he tortures him to find out guild secrets,” Clayde muttered from where he lay on the floor.

  The second figure laughed. “Not the mundane version. There is another kind of dungeon.”

  Nerlun looked down at Clayde. “I never studied them much. I know they are usually systems of caves that appear to have a knowing and living spirit. The spirit sets up traps and encourages creatures to come and defend the chambers. Somehow the spirit feeds off the conflict that arises when adventurers enter.”

  “Feldmar left this village for adventure, it was thirteen years ago wasn’t it thief?” the second hooded figure asked.

  “I believe that’s what the villagers said. The old woman who is his mother appears quite bitter that he refuses to live with her or to let her see her granddaughter, if that’s who the girl is,” Clayde complained.

  “Because I might know what Lystari is,” the second figure said triumphantly.

  “Oh, stop being mysterious, Lourdari,” Nerlun said petulantly. “Your students might be impressed by your act, but I remember how poor you are at most magics. That’s why you know about dungeons. Didn’t you work with several adventuring parties as a way to get the resources you needed to make your wand?”

  “Dungeons can be very powerful,” Lourdari said. “And one thing people don’t realize is that they have a soul.”

  “And you don’t since you sold it to that demoness Caluna,” Nerlun said. “Even with her help you aren’t one of the more powerful wizards.”

  Lourdari laughed. His robes shook for a moment. Clayde felt his fear increase and tried to crawl away only to have hands emerge from the dirt floor of the cottage. They held him in place.

  The wizard’s laugh slowly died out. “Oh Nerlun, I don’t need power to win most fights. Knowledge can defeat power. And that is what I see here.”

  “What?” Nerlun asked.

  Lourdari pulled the hood off his head to reveal the face of an aged man. He had no visible hair and his scalp was covered in black and red runes. He smirked as he looked over at Nerlun. “Fifteen years ago a well-known dungeon in Vendlack changed in personality. The dungeon had been old and some of the adventurers who visited complained that it was tired and rarely provided good treasures or challenges. But then stories came out that the dungeon was changing. The stone walls would move and the challenges were almost playful and whimsical.”

  “So?” Nerlun asked.

  “If a dungeon has a soul, can it die?” Lourdari asked. “Or more importantly, if it dies, does the dungeon die? In this case, the most common theory was that a new soul had taken possession of the dungeon. Where the old soul had been failing, this new soul was learning and growing.”

  “How does that pertain to us now?” Nerlun asked.

  “Just four years later the dungeon changed again. The playfulness that had attracted some adventurers became a malicious vindictiveness. The treasures the dungeon provided increased, but the challenge also jumped. An augury was cast.”

  “Those are rarely useful, most of the time the answer is a riddle,” Nerlun said scornfully.

  “Ah, but what moves stone, is not as powerful as what moves a heart. If a soul could be touched, could it be moved? And in the end what might be borne from such?” Lourdari chanted. It sounded like he had memorized the speech.

  “That makes less sense than you normally do,” Nerlun said with a snort of disbelief.

  “You think,” Clayde said with a gasp. “You think Lystari is a dungeon soul?”

  “I think she is that dungeon soul,” Lourdari said. “And that girl is somehow her daughter.”

  “But?” Nerlun said.

  “I don’t know how,” Lourdari said. “But if Feldmar somehow met the soul and she fell in love with him, perhaps she could abandon the dungeon, giving it to another.”

  “Where would she find one?” Nerlun asked.

  “A tenday before the second change in the dungeon’s personality, a dungeon in the Kingdom of Kalis was destroyed by soldiers seeking rebels. They sacked every room and every monster lair in the place before setting it on fire and using magic to collapse its chambers,” Lourdari said. “The new version of the dungeon is highly resistant to fire and known for vicious traps designed to wipe out large groups.”

  “And no one has destroyed it?” Clayde asked.

  “A group of no more than five and that doesn’t use fire is challenged, but the dungeon does not appear determined to kill them. Only those who use fire magics or who arrive in large groups find the challenge to be automatically deadly,” Lourdari said.

  “So we have a dungeon soul,” Nerlun said. “It doesn’t appear that this one has a dungeon to force us through.”

  “Fool,” Lourdari said. “Dungeons are beings of pure magic. They seem to be able to summon gold from the depths of the earth. In this case though, those magic stones you see. They were found in the dungeon during its playful period.”

  “You mean?” Clayde asked.

  “I can’t be sure, but if this Lystari is the dungeon soul I believe she is. If we can bind her, perhaps we can force her to make the raw stones we need rather than having to purchase them from adventurers.” Lourdari said.

  “But she’ll probably resist us,” Nerlun said.

  “We’ll open up a teleport in the woods and bring in others. They can assist. But one thing we must do?” Lourdari said.

  “What?” Nerlun asked.

  The hands holding Clayde moved. Two dragged his shoulders down until his chest was pressed against th
e dirt floor. Two more emerged to grab his head, one at each ear. They twisted his head until his eyes were looking down at his rear end. The body spasmed one final time and then lay still.

  “No witnesses,” Lourdari said. “Now let’s get ready. Dungeons supposedly can sense deaths and we wouldn’t want this one ready for us.”

  Chapter 3: A Dungeon Falls, Another Rises.

  At that moment, in the reformed ruin just a couple miles up the valley, Lystari froze. A stone mug dropped from her hand as she turned and trembled.

  Lystari stayed frozen only a moment and then ran to the doorway and looked out. Feldmar was working to pull a few weeds from one of their small fields as their silent daughter held out a basket. As each weed was pulled Feldmar would drop it in the basket and smile at his giggling daughter.

  “Wizards,” Lystari said.

  Feldmar jumped to his feet and ran over to her. “What is it my love?”

  “Wizards. Killed Branlin. Killed Clayde. Now calling on mana. Powerful spell,” Lystari said.

  “Do you think they are coming for you?” Feldmar asked worriedly.

  Lystari nodded and then looked over at her daughter. “Much power. We can’t escape.”

  Feldmar hugged thedistresseded looking woman. “What do you need me to do?”

  Their daughter was looking over at them. She seemed to realize that something was wrong. “Father?” she asked in a tremulous voice.

  Lystari pushed her way out of the hug and ran over to her daughter. She wrapped her arms around the young woman. “Evil men, magical men come to capture me. If they knew about you, they’d try to capture you.”

  “Why?” the girl in her arms asked.

  Feldmar came over and used his arms to wrap both women in a hug. “Because of what you are,” he said sadly. “Lystari and I feared this day might come, but we hoped it never would. That’s why we came here.”

  “I am magic,” Lystari said.

  The girl in her arms giggled. “That’s silly.”

  “Faestari,” Feldmar said sadly. “Your mother wasn’t born in that form. She was just a spirit. A thought made real through magic.”

  “Your father gave me form. He loved me. He loves you,” Lystari said. “But, evil men come. They want to capture me. Too much power, can’t escape. But they won’t capture you.”

  “Mommy?” the girl asked.

  Lystari loosened her grip on her daughter long enough to lean back and give Feldmar a slow nod.

  Feldmar reached for his belt and pulled open a pouch. He shook it carefully until a glittering gemstone fell into his hand. Lystari immediately held her hand out.

  “You will stay free,” the woman said as she held onto her daughter. “Your magic will protect and preserve you. Learn patience. Learn hope. Learn love.”

  Lystari lifted up the gemstone and touched it to her daughter’s lips. There was a momentary spark and then Faestari’s body seemed to turn into colored smoke. It flowed into the gemstone as her parents continued to hug. Tears streamed down Feldmar’s face.

  “I’m sorry, my daughter,” he said softly as the last of the smoke vanished.

  Lystari looked towards the front of the house. The wall seemed to turn gelatinous. Five stone rabbits hopped out of the wall and made their way over to the kneeling couple.

  Lystari held out the gemstone. One of the rabbits used its teeth to carefully take it from her hand. Lystari immediately pointed towards the remnants of an old rockslide. A small cave barely larger than the rabbits could be seen. “Deep, go.”

  The rabbits formed a line. The one holding the gemstone was in the middle as the stone creatures raced out of sight through the cave. Feldmar turned away so he could not see the last one vanish. As soon as it had the stone around the hole flowed to hide it from view.

  Lystari pulled out a leather rope that hung around her neck. From between her breasts she pulled up a pouch. She held the pouch out to Feldmar. “Cut.”

  Feldmar took the pouch in his left hand as he reached for his knife with his right. Lystari cupped her hands beneath the pouch, waiting silently as Feldmar brought the knife up and slashed through the bottom of the pouch. A diamond the size of a robin’s egg dropped into the cupped hands.

  Lystari’s body seemed to become transparent for a moment. It lasted barely long enough for a man to blink and then she had a presence as if she had just become more real.

  “My love?” Feldmar said.

  “We will allow our daughter to escape,” Lystari said in a firm voice. “I’m sorry we’ll not get to see her grow up.”

  “We knew it was a risk,” Feldmar said sadly. “I’m just so sorry you had to keep so much of yourself locked up in the gemstone.”

  “It still contains my soul,” Lystari said. “You know what you must do should I be caught by their magic.”

  “I should be in front of you defending you,” Feldmar protested.

  “My love, you cannot save me from magic. You must stand guard over my soul. Should the wizards capture my avatar you must destroy the stone,” Lystari said.

  Feldmar stood there shaking his head. Lystari force the gem into his hands and then turned and marched to the stone building where they had lived for the last few years.

  Feldmar turned to follow Lystari but halted as the roar of a thunderclap split the sky. Birds burst out of the trees, their cries indicating panic.

  Lystari ran out of the house. She was carrying a large sledgehammer in her right hand and a scroll in her left hand. She stopped in front of Feldmar and held the hammer out to him.

  “My love,” Feldmar said in a voice without hope.

  “I might be able to fight them off, but I have to know you won’t let them capture me,” she said fondly. “I’ve loved you since we first met.”

  “You were a playful minx,” Feldmar said fondly as he reluctantly accepted the hammer. “I don’t want to….”

  “I know, but it’s the only way we can save our daughter,” Lystari said as she scattered pieces of broken crystal on the ground near their feet. “They’ll see that and believe she has already been destroyed.”

  “What’s the scroll?” Feldmar asked.

  Lystari turned to look at the stone enclosing the nearest garden plot. Another stone rabbit emerged. She held the scroll out to it. The rabbit seized the paper carefully and then dashed off in the direction the early group of rabbits had fled.

  “Letter to Faestari,” Lystari said sadly. “Telling her we loved her and telling her the truth.”

  “I shouldn’t have kept it from her,” Feldmar said.

  “No,” Lystari said in a voice filled with love. “You gave me her, and you gave her a chance to begin her life with love. No other dungeon has had that gift. Do not mourn losing her. Remember her and hope she will find her own happiness.”

  There was another crash of thunder, this one just beyond the tree line. Clouds of black smoke could be seen rising in the afternoon sky. A few human screams of fear and pain were abruptly cut off. Lystari stepped forward and then stepped up onto the stone surrounding one of the garden plots.

  Four hooded figures emerged from the trees. One had his hands up, revealing red and orange runes carved into his flesh. Another had white runes on his hands. The other two figures were concealing their hands in their sleeves. They spread out as Lystari stood and watched.

  “What is that?” one of the figures said. “I’ve never seen such magic.”

  “It is a dungeon soul,” Lourdari said. “Quick, we must bind her.”

  Lystari raised her right hand and then swept it to her left. A spear made out of stone emerged from the rocks on that side of the clearing and thrust at the figures. Nerlun and Lourdari jumped away as did the one figure who had yet to speak, but the fourth reacted slowly and the stone pierced through the middle of the hooded cloak.

  “Harstl!” the last figure called out.

  “He’s dead,” Lourdari replied. “I warned you of the soul’s power. Now use your magic!”

  L
ourdari flicked his fingers. His mouth opened as if he was shouting, but the words he spoke were without sound. As he bent his fingers towards Lystari a glowing chain of gold emerged from his right index finger and snaked its way through the air towards her.

  “Binding chain!” Nerlun shouted. Two glowing chains of silver burst from the ground and also shot towards Lystari.

  Lystari waved her left hand at the chain approaching her from Lourdari. It turned around and then whipped through the air, wrapping around the wizard’s neck. He began waving his hands frantically as the chain began choking him.

  “Save him!” Nerlun called out.

  “It’s too late,” the last figure replied. “Spirit capture!”

  Lystari was turning to face the last two wizards when hands rose from the dirt and grabbed her legs. As soon as one had a grasp on her right calf, three more rose up and forced her down on one knee.

  “Lystari!” Feldmar shouted. He took a step forward only to have to dive away from his love as a flight of arrows shot out of the trees.

  The chains from Nerlun’s magic wrapped around Lystari’s wrists. She was dragged down to her hands and knees.

  “We have it,” the unnamed wizard cried in triumph.

  “Love,” Lystari said hopelessly. “I’m sorry.”

  Feldmar started to stand up only to be forced to duck behind the stone of the garden plot by another flight of arrows. He reached out to touch Lystari’s hand one last time. “Me too,” he said as his other hand tightened its grip on the sledgehammer.

  Feldmar dropped Lystari’s stone onto the wall. He stood up and spun, raising the sledgehammer over his head and tensing his shoulders.

  “Stop him!” Nerlun shouted as he saw the hammer.

  More arrows came out of the trees. A blast of blindingly bright light radiated from the right hand of the unnamed wizard. The light burned into Feldmar’s eyes. The man roared in pain as one of the arrows penetrated his abdomen, but he brought the hammer down. As blood poured down his face like tears, the head of the hammer landed on the gemstone.