Moonlight Banishes Shadows

by J. T. Wright

  Trent waited until he was sure no one was about to rush him, then slowly relaxed. “I didn’t think I needed to.”

  Felicia waited for the apology she thought should follow that statement. When it didn’t come, she didn’t demand it. She was aware that she and Kerry were more of a hindrance to Trent than a help. She was more conscious of the fact that if her uncertain feelings towards Trent drove him off, she and Kerry might not be able to make it back to the entrance alone.

  Trent, thinking the issue was settled, inched past the Mage to study the blocked portion of the tunnel again. When he spoke, instead of the conciliatory words she was hoping to hear, what he proposed was exactly what she had been dreading. “I'm going to have to go on by myself.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  There were a dozen reasons why Kerry and Felicia were opposed to Trent’s plan. It was dangerous to split up in a Dungeon. There was no need to explore every corner. What would happen if any of them were attacked? What if the heat was worse farther into the steam cloud, and Trent was injured?

  The arguments were meaningless, though. None of them outweighed the fact that Trent wanted, needed, to know what was hidden behind the steam. So what if it was a Beast stronger than those they had encountered thus far? Wasn’t that exactly what he was hoping to find? A challenge not for his companions but for himself.

  He couldn’t be dissuaded, and the others lacked the means to stop him. Dreq came the closest, jumping up to rest his front paws on Trent’s knee and whining plaintively. The Dog was easily bribed, though. A hunk of dried meat and a Dire Wolf tooth had Dreq curled up, chewing peacefully. Trent suspected that may have been what he was after the whole time.

  Steam washed over him as Trent entered it. Within three steps, he was hidden from view and was likewise unable to see Kerry or Felicia. He could feel them through the party link, and although some of their anxiety spilled through that tether, it couldn’t override his own excitement.

  He slid his feet along the floor, testing the path carefully, never lifting his boots from the stone. Dark Vision was no help here; his sight was blocked by the swirling mist. Not only could Trent not see his friends, his feet, or the walls of the tunnel on both sides, he had no idea of what waited for him in front.

  The heat that had scorched Kerry’s hand was a warm blanket to Trent. It surrounded and sheltered him. He took a deep breath and hot, moist air filled his lungs. Water condensed on his skin, running down his chest and back to soak the shirt beneath his armor. Trent stood for a moment, rolling his neck, loosening tight muscles, reveling in the steam bath, and enjoying a new sensation.

  He might have stood there longer, but Kerry’s voice reached him, asking how things were going. It broke Trent from his reverie, and he called back that he was safe. A new warmth filled him. There was concern in Kerry’s voice. Concern for Trent and not for Kerry’s own dubious situation.

  It was ridiculous when you stopped to think about it. Kerry had every cause to worry for himself and none to care what happened to Trent. Trent was as safe as he could be in this Trial. Kerry, on the other hand, was vulnerable to the weakest of the Trial’s inhabitants. He should have been worrying for himself, yet he still had some to spare for a relative stranger.

  Trent had heard that kind of concern before. He had heard it in the angry voice of Cullen when Trent had disappeared without notice. He had heard it from Orion when he was injured or near exhaustion. It was good to hear it now.

  Another deep breath, and Trent started forward again. He had to find out what was hidden in this mist, even if it was just another dead end to be marked on his map. He needed to explore, but his presence was required with the group. He had to quicken his steps.

  The steam did grow hotter as Trent ventured in deeper. He tugged at the collar of his armor as the soothing warmth became uncomfortable. When it occurred to him that what he felt as mild discomfort was enough to boil the usual Bellrise Adventurers alive, Trent shivered, despite the sweat that covered him.

  This was wrong. He had only a vague understanding of Guild ranks, but Bellrise was populated by Adventurers carrying Wooden Tokens. High-leveled Warriors did not come here. Warriors with Abilities and equipment that could resist this kind of heat would find it unworthy of their time to explore the cramped tunnels where Academy students trained. If they entered it at all, they would press on to the final Guardian as fast as they could, not bothering to search every nook and cranny for crumbs. This obstacle was out of place.

  A hundred feet, two hundred, and the heat grew more intense. Heart of the Inferno began to actively draw Mana to protect Trent from the sweltering temperature. It had never done that before, had never needed to. Looking at his Status, Trent watched his MP tick down at a noticeable rate.

  He pulled off a glove and held his hand close to his face. His skin was red and tender, not burned but not far from it. The sensation was becoming painful. Painful, though not anything as bad as the Burning Lake had been. Trent kept the thought that he had felt worse firmly in mind as he stretched out a boot and continued forward.

  Breaking out of the steam sent chills through Trent’s body. He involuntarily crossed his arms in front of his chest as the normal air of the Trial cooled the superheated moisture that covered him. Trent coughed and shook as he adjusted to the sudden change.

  He had done it! The steam was behind him. And in front? A dead end. The Trial had a lot of those. Kerry said you could avoid them when you knew the current layout. As they were exploring a new floor-plan, they were forced to discover them personally, and this one was different than those they had found previously.

  It was five feet from the wall of white steam to the wall of red stone. Trent could see clearly now, but his feet still shuffled on the floor, feeling his way as if he were blind. Unlike the blank walls of other dead ends, this one held a recessed shelf at around waist height. Five feet high, four wide, and three deep, the shelf had three items sitting in it. Trent felt a lump form in his chest when he was close enough to examine the contents.

  A bow, a bottle, and what appeared to be a bundle of sticks. An image of Dreq chewing on a bone crossed Trent’s mind. These items felt like a bribe. As if the Trial wanted something from him and was luring him, urging him to continue, though there was little to be gained here.

  These weren’t the normal offerings of a Minor Permanent Trial. Placed behind an obstacle only he could cross, the items felt less like loot and more like a trap. His fingers touched the bait as he Appraised them.

  The bow was a recurve type, the tips of its limbs stretching forward, unlike the straight bough of his short bow. This one was called a Runic Battle Bow. It had a Damage Rating of +35, which was significantly higher than his current bow. It also passively absorbed and stored Mana to be used for creating arrows. A marked improvement for someone like Trent.

  The bottle contained an Alchemical mixture that would permanently increase the Agility of anyone who drank it by 6 Points. This item Trent picked up and turned over to study from every angle. He was more convinced that he had walked into a trap with every second that passed. This item was a miracle. A potion that increased an Attribute by more Points than could be gained by leveling an Advanced Class? Trent had bled for lesser rewards than this bottle represented.

  Trent found his distrust growing as he ran a finger around the cork that plugged the bottle. The mixture in the bottle was miraculous, and at the same time, pointless. It was no more effective than the Attribute Crystals Trent had come across before. The only improvement that the potion had over those Crystals was that it could be carried away, saved for later. He resisted the urge to drink the potion immediately, and set it down.

  He picked up the last item. The bundle of sticks turned out to be ten Prickly Stick Legs, insect parts that could be used in crafting. Six inches long and a half inch thick, the legs flexed as Trent bent them with both hands. These legs confused his theory that the Trial wanted something from him.

  The bow and the potion
were things he could use. They whispered to him that he should go deeper into the Trial and find out what else was there to be discovered. They represented an increase to both himself and his equipment.

  But the insect legs? As far as Trent was concerned, they were about as much use as any stick he could find lying around. He had just begun crafting his own weapons and had no idea how to use the fragile-feeling Beast parts.

  Felicia intruded on his thoughts. Felicia with her hand-woven scarves. She knew something about crafting; maybe she would know about the legs. Trent stored the bundle, intending to ask her when he returned. He hefted the bottle and began to open it when an image of Kerry tumbling to the ground popped into his head. Kerry needed this.

  Three items for three Adventurers? From the first, Trent thought the bait left in plain sight was for him alone. The coins and drops they had acquired, he fully intended to share. The others hadn’t contributed much, other than information, but he felt it was only right to split the gains fairly.

  These three items, though? This was no Survival Trial where any small increase in the party was beneficial to all. If the way forward became too dangerous, Kerry and Felicia could always leave. What he found himself, he had every right to keep. He did not have to decide between the bow or the potion; they were both his!

  And both went into Storage. Trent ran back the way he came. He barely felt the change in temperature as he reentered the steam. A sick feeling in his gut distracted him as he rushed back. He burst out of the concealing fog in a sprint, startling Kerry and Felicia. They got over their fright at his sudden appearance as quickly as they could, and focused behind Trent, readying themselves to confront what was chasing him.

  Trent was at a loss as he saw Felicia brandish the wand she kept in her sleeve, and Kerry heft his shield. What did they think they were doing? He brought himself to a stop and considered how his return must have looked.

  “I think we should agree,” Trent rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, “that if you see me running, you should run too.”

  “Fair enough.” Kerry cleared his throat and let out an embarrassed chuckle. “So, find anything in there, or was it too hot to handle?”

  “Why are you here?” Acting like he hadn’t heard the question, Trent faced Felicia and lifted his mask. He watched as she flinched at the sight of his face. He hadn’t missed how nervous she was around him. Even when she had been trying to heal him earlier, Trent had seen the disquiet that filled her at the thought of directly interacting with him.

  “What? Why are you asking?” Felicia took a step back, her hands fluttering nervously.

  “Because I have a right to know. You want something from me. What is it?” Trent lowered his cowl, forcing Felicia to look at his distinct features. His face was set and serious, a look slightly undermined by the festive ribbon that held his hair in place.

  “I want… a crafting material.” Felicia squared her shoulders and put her hands on her hips. “It drops occasionally on the fourth floor. It can be Harvested as well. Which is why—"

  “Fourth floor!” Kerry guffawed and slapped his leg in an artificial and obvious attempt to dispel the tension between his two companions. “Keep dreaming! Second floor is the best we'll do today.”

  Felicia gestured towards Trent while speaking to Kerry, “ Maybe so, but he'll reach the fourth someday soon. And when he does, I'm willing to pay twice the market price for—"

  “Prickly Insect legs?” Trent produced the bundle and held it out to her. “Will ten do?”

  “Ten is more than enough!” Felicia snatched the bundle away with a soft joyous cry of disbelief. “How much do you—"

  “They’re yours,” Trent interrupted the Mage again. “You'll be leaving now?”

  Felicia’s hands trembled as she clutched the crafting material she had been attempting to acquire for months. “I can… I will help you on the first floor. It’s the least I can do.”

  She forced the words out, as if making a great concession. Trent had already turned away from her. “And you, Kerry? What do you need?”

  Kerry didn’t answer. He set down his shield and stretched his arms wide. “How long have we been at it now? Think we’ve about covered the first floor?”

  “Kerry needs money,” Felicia said for him. “Don’t give me that look, Kerry! The whole Academy knows. Three gold to buy out of the charter. That should have been enough to tell you what you were in for even if you didn’t read the fine print.”

  “Gold? Is that all? Not a weapon?” Trent’s eyebrows arched hopefully as he asked, “I don’t suppose you have a secret talent for Archery?”

  “Not particularly good at things that require delicacy.” Kerry emphasized his point by holding up and wiggling his thick fingers. “What’s this all about, Trent?”

  Trent shushed Kerry with a wave of his hand. He was busy calculating the amount of coins that they had earned in his head. During the few hours they had spent exploring the Trial, they had fought five groups of Beetles. Each Beetle had dropped anywhere from fifteen to twenty coppers. With a hundred coppers equaling one silver, they had made approximately forty silver, not quite half a gold, after killing nearly two hundred Swift Beetles.

  It was an unbelievable number to Kerry. Trent hadn’t thought much of it. The XP had been more important to him and, split between three people and a Dog, the experience earned from two hundred Beetles was slight. Considering that Trent needed three thousand XP to level his Swordsman Class, the two hundred and fifty or so given by the Trial so far wasn’t worth talking about.

  But if Kerry wanted money and nothing else… “Is this worth three gold?”

  He held out the potion for Felicia to take. Trent hadn’t participated in the conversations Kerry and Felicia held, but he had listened and learned that her Evaluation Spell gave a more detailed estimate of an item’s worth than Appraisal did.

  She gave the grimy old bottle Trent handed her a doubtful look before she cast her Spell. As the wave of information Evaluation provided entered her mind, that look faded and was replaced by one of wonder. The hold she had on the bottle went from careless to fluctuating between desperately tight and ginger. She was torn between fear that she might drop the bottle and concern that it might crack beneath her fingers.

  “This is… How did Maryann put it? It’s worth what people will pay for it!” Felicia made a loud gulping noise, and her veil twitched as she licked her lips. “I didn’t know it was possible to make a potion like this. The ingredients alone must have cost more than three gold. I wouldn’t take less than five, if I were selling it.”

  Trent took the potion back and started to hand it to Kerry, who reached for it longingly. Before his fingers could close around it, Trent held it back and said, “First, show me your Status.”

  “For five gold, I'll show you whatever you want,” Kerry said, eyeing the bottle as he chanted, “Display Status.”

  Name: Kerry Moss

  Age: 14

  Race: Human

  Level: 4

  Class: Warrior Level 4

  Profession: None

  Health: 170

  Stamina: 170

  Mana: 90

  Strength: 19

  Agility: 14

  Dexterity: 7

  Constitution: 17

  Intelligence: 9

  Wisdom: 8

  Free Attribute Points: 0

  Skills

  Heavy Armor Level 3

  Taunt Level 1

  Spells

  Self-Clean/Charm Level 6

  Self-Dry/Charm Level 4

  Mend/Charm Level 2

  Shave/Charm Level 1

  Trent forced himself to concentrate on Kerry’s Attributes and Skills. It wasn’t easy. The wet shirt that clung to his skin begged him to ask about the Self-Dry charm. Shave also caught his eye, and for a moment, he wondered what its purpose was.

  However, it wasn’t the time for his fascination with everyday magic. Kerry was well on the way to crippling himself. Every Class
had an Attribute they focused on. Warriors invested in Strength, and Archers chose Dexterity, while Mages needed Intelligence. As practical as Trent found building up all his Attributes, his situation was different than the average Adventurers.

  So Kerry wasn’t wrong to set his Free Attribute Points the way he had. It was a common build for Warriors who fought at the front. Only, Kerry had taken it to extremes. The rule, as it was explained to Trent, was that a Warrior’s Strength should never be more than twice his Agility. Without flexibility, Kerry wouldn’t be able to use the impressive muscle that he had. Skills could counter this to some extent. The Heavy Armor Skill kept Kerry on his feet and fighting as long as he wore the right equipment. Whereas, without the plates of iron, his biggest nemesis was his own feet.

  Kerry had an honest face. He wore his emotions for the world to see. It was not greed that Trent found in Kerry’s furrowed brows. It was desperation. Desperation caused Kerry’s lips to flatten into a line and set his eyes to gleaming with a feverish light. He would do anything for the bottle that Trent held just out of reach, and it wasn’t for the increase to his Attributes that it promised. Neither Felicia nor Trent had mentioned the potion’s effect.

  “You can have this,” Trent said, holding the bottle up, “on one condition."

  “Anything! You name it, and it’s yours,” Kerry blurted. “You want my firstborn? My left arm? Both?”

  “You can have it, once you promise me, you’ll drink it. You can’t sell it.” Trent locked his eyes onto Kerry’s and watched the light fade from them. “You have to drink it, Kerry. You brought me here because I have the Detect Traps Skill. Trust me when I say I've spotted one, and I'm helping you avoid it.”