Clara’s wings went stiff underneath him, chest fluttering against his.
“Oh. Oh, no. No, no, no—”
“What?”
“The time, Daniel, the time, we’ve—” She got a hand under his chest and shoved. She was much stronger than she looked. He almost laughed as she floated them both up. “Up. Up! I had a plan. I had a whole plan, and you ruined it with your face.”
“My face is sort of a problem.”
“That stupid, charming…totally devoted handsome face. Stop!”
“And what if I don’t want to?”
“Then you and I have got a problem, bucko! Move.”
She hauled him off her with obvious reluctance, so he compromised by holding out his hand for her to take. There was a jitter in her wings as their fingers intertwined.
“I’m at your mercy, babe. Where did I even get this vocabulary again? I’m getting the sneaking suspicion you taught them to me from somewhere. Stories?”
Clara’s cheeks colored, eyes darting to a bookcase in the corner that kept silently shuffling books into infinity.
“Not important! Ahem. Come here. Look…”
She guided him to the sole window in the expansive, yet almost empty room. The window was large enough to see quite the view. What lay beyond was a city, or what had once been one.
Roof after broken roof gave way to a darkness that cast over the whole silver city. Black towers lay crippled, and nothing moved on the streets or in the air. No lights, no signs of life or warmth. Only the room Clara occupied.
“What happened to our kingdom?”
Clara pulled his gaze to her eyes, and in them he saw pain.
“I can’t say for sure… But what I do know is our time is limited.”
Daniel’s smile fell, his hand moving to the wound against his side.
“I died? Carl killed me.”
Clara’s blue irises flared out of the pain at his words.
“No one can kill you, darling… Not so long as you hold my heart. Our position may be precarious. We may not know much beyond these tiny pieces we hold, but together, we cannot lose. Feed those monster cores into our case, and I can empower you with the strength of our kingdom. We will rebuild it.”
“The cores Carl uses to make his puppets?” Daniel’s fingers tightened around hers as the large mirror in front of the bed replayed his battle. “You’re watching me through the box?”
She walked with him to the reflective surface.
“I am always with you, my husband.”
He glanced around at the humble space. There was an open closet, practically empty, an open chest that had nothing, and drawers no doubt resembling the same. Really, the bookshelf was the only populated item.
“You don’t even have a hairbrush…”
“Not important.” She pulled his face down to look into her all-consuming seafoam-blue eyes as everything turned gold. He was being pulled away from her. “Trust in us. Give me monster cores. I will stitch together our kingdom one card at a time.”
“Clara… I still have so many questions.”
“As do I, my love… I cannot tell you about how we came into this situation. But what I do know is that there is a possessive thing out there, trying to claw us apart. And I will not tolerate being second wings to an obsessive child hoping to collect a new toy.”
She leaned in to press her lips against his, ethereal wings attempting to hold him as long as possible. Her fingers caressed the nubs at his back, fingernails pressing against his skin as if feeling the pain more than he.
“You’re mine… Mine. And only mine. I will never let death or some pathetic loser of a Dungeon Core have you… Never. I love you. I love you. I love you…”
With those words and her desperate pressure holding him, he felt himself leave her binding irises as if a ghost, falling into oblivion.
“I am with you, My King. Forever.”
He coughed. Blinding silver emanated from his skin as he opened his eyes and pushed himself up. His wounds closed. His pain vanished. The world had hardly moved a second since he’d fallen into his wife’s enshrouding wings.
“Impossible…” Carl’s voice came amidst the coins and shards left from the rabbits he’d slain. “What kind of healing magic is this? Instant recovery upon death? I have never heard of such a thing. Even the arrow is burned away in that holy fire.”
Daniel got to his feet, fingers tightening around the two items he’d refused to drop. He felt different now. It was as if her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, her head pressed against his, her wings holding his heart steady.
The skeleton ahead pulled back its next arrow.
He tracked its aim, tilting his body to let it fly past his chest.
Raising the sword, he took a step forward and launched it at the undead. It stuck straight into its skull. The fire went out, and it crumbled to the ground.
“Wave complete.”
He smiled as he bent down to start collecting the shards and hold them against the case. The symbols woven into it shone and absorbed the items.
“You know, in death, I think I’ve found my purpose. Thanks, Carl. Maybe you’re not the worst first friend after all. Is this you being a friend, sending these waves? A good workout.”
The voice that returned was more reserved than before.
“You’re becoming more interesting by the minute, friend. Let’s see how far you can go.”
He didn’t respond right away, too focused on the task at hand.
Daniel finished collecting all of the shards and feeding them to Clara. The skeleton core wasn’t that much different from the undead rabbits’. Maybe it was a little less clouded. As an experiment, he tried to drop the coins in, and it worked.
Does this mean you can store any item, Clara?
I hope I don’t fill up your room and make you a hoarder.
His head tilted as his smile grew.
Or does that make both of us hoarders?
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
“What’s this?”
An ethereal card floated out of the closed box, solidifying and separating as he pulled on it. He choked a laugh upon seeing a rather cartoonish treasure chest threaded into the silver-edged item.
I love it… I suppose this is an item box card?
You’re such an amazing woman.
Carl did not miss his abrupt actions upon returning from the dead.
“I see… Clara. Does your wife, or a Dungeon Core impersonating her, have a death healing factor? She is driving you to feed her so she can grow. What a crafty little thing, becoming a mobile Core. How did she manage that feat?”
Daniel whistled, the sound echoing as he retrieved his sword.
“No need to go that hard, Carl. I’m sensing some tension here. Getting jealous I’ve found a wife? She’s sweet. Maybe we could bond over lunch.” He laughed. “Or is that what we’re doing now? She’s certainly getting a snack.”
The Dungeon Core’s tone became more conspiratorial than it had any right to be.
“I have lived a long time, friend. We Dungeon Cores are quite crafty things… What if she fooled herself into thinking she were your wife? You’ve been holding onto that box since you awoke. What makes you think you have ever truly had free will since awakening?”
He puffed out a breath, spinning the sword between his hands.
“You’re pretty good at seeding those doubts. I’ll hand it to you.”
He began jogging forward as more burning skull eye sockets illuminated in the darkness ahead. The torches brightened as he moved, the darkness and its potential pressing on his mind. Daniel felt each question land as he danced between targets, and not unscathed.
“Those are all very valid and bone-chilling points. But it’s like asking a man why he breathes. I can question breathing. I can’t stop. There’s a problem with the deliverer here: all those points run into a big, sharp-fanged wall named Carl.”
“The Core that fattens you up over the honest one? At least I know what I am. What makes you so sure she isn’t just waiting to sink her pretty little fangs into your soul once she’s used you up?”
Daniel caught his breath after cutting down the fifth one, nursing a modest gash in his side and cheek. He rolled around his neck, no longer fearing death. So long as he held her steady, she would hold him.
“Well, you haven’t met her.” He chuckled, bringing the case to stare at the winged impressions. The word she left him was like a hook in his heart. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Help me understand.”
He held up his gold-painted hand, rubbing the shimmering blood that held a promise.
“I can’t describe faith, Carl… It’s just something you know. But it’s not free. No… Faith is a lot of work. Sort of like love. Actually, maybe they’re the same word. Or two sides of the same coin. The next wave already?”
The rattling sound of bone against stone cascaded down the corridor.
The Dungeon Core’s laughter filled the halls.
“That word lost meaning to me long ago. Can it carry you out of my jaws?”
Daniel answered by taking another step toward the undead.
And he died in that wave, gifting him another vision of blue eyes and soft wings. It was only a handful of seconds this time. Her hands running through his blond hair, half a sentence he didn’t catch the end of, and then stone under his cheek again.
Yet, through it all, her words echoed in his heart with every death: I love you. I love you.
His robe tore, burned, and was stripped away piece by piece until he moved with nothing but a case and sword in hand. The timer on his sword fell away little by little.
He collected everything they dropped, which wasn’t much. Apparently, it was due to restrictions on the floor he was on. Daniel just kept walking, looking for a way up. Carl did little tricks, the sneaky little guy, attempting to have him go down upside-down staircases to reach lower floors.
A third card came in the form of a picture of three balls of fire
[⌖ Trap #10: Cinder Snare &]
[Three bolts. Triggers on intent to harm. Long rest to reset. Each reset changes the trap into a new variant]
He saved it. He could handle the puppets thus far without resorting to the new card.
Carl commented throughout it, and Daniel enjoyed the back-and-forth. It was nice having someone to verbally spar with. It became almost a game to see where he could pull the conversation.
He got up, time and time again.
Daniel wasn’t sure why that first visit was so long. Every one after was merely a hazy dream. It made him question why that was, but questions were not doubts; questions opened doors, and doubts closed them.
The floor clicked as he turned the next junction in the maze. He blinked as the ceiling opened up, and a stone fell atop him. It was slow enough that he managed to roll out of the way with the sword’s perception bonus.
He didn’t miss the skeletal arrows that peppered him afterward.
“You’re getting better…”
They rushed forward.
“Take the case!” the Core ordered.
Silver fire embraced him, and he kicked out the legs of the closest one as they dove for him. He reached into the eye socket of one, snuffing out the flame; the things were surprisingly weak after a few experiments.
“Shoot. You’re getting faster. And you might be the third person in over four hundred years who has figured that trick out. It only works on Floor 1 common mobs. You do seem to be struggling more, friend. Why is that?”
Daniel shakily got to his feet, breathing hard and sweating.
Carl hadn’t figured it out yet. But he had.
Is that the drawback, Clara?
You can heal all damage. But my stamina stays the same.
Not a bad trade-off, honestly. I just need to pace—
He died again at the next junction, badly, to something with a hooked spine that he genuinely did not see. Daniel came up off the floor of the labyrinth with the taste of spring rain in his mouth and the wound in his throat burning away.
“Alright,” he rasped, glaring up at the spring-loaded blade that had beheaded him. It was slowly returning to the wall. There were openings it could move to in order to change heights. “Alright, that’s a bit much, Carl.”
“Right at the corner! It’s a Floor One MVP this decade.” He actually sounded proud. “Took a bit to get the pressure right. The restrictions on Floor One are insane. You’re giving me so much data.”
“Not even a monster core. Disgusting.”
“Don’t pout. Here is the next… Wait! What are you doing? Again? Flipping again?”
Daniel’s smile grew as he wiped away blood and sweat before reaching over with his sword hand to pluck out a new ghostly card.
“What can I say? My wife’s dedicated… Nice.”
[◈ Pet &]
[Summons the spiritual body of a subject. Long rest to reset. Active for 1 hour. Randomized upon who will answer based on the servant’s mood in the Tarnished Silver City]
“Oh, please be a dog,” Daniel said. “Please be a nice, big dog with big teeth.”
He tossed the silver-edged card to the ground, and it released a diamond block the size of him. What emerged was not a nice dog, but Daniel could get behind this one. The name on the notification expanded upon its materialization.
[◈ Pet #22: Night Wolf &]
The wolf stood higher than his hip, was black as night, and had a bit of a bone fascination. It became a nightmare of shadow against the torchlight as it launched at the puppets, ripping them to shreds.
“What in angel’s name is that, Daniel?” the Core huffed.
It finished ravaging the skeletons, looking thoroughly annoyed they disappeared as it trotted over to him to get his neck scratched.
“It’s Night, my new dog, Carl.”
“That’s not a dog. It’s cheating on Floor One. Straight cheating.”
“Kind of like an invisible blade trap that hits you from a blind spot.”
“Touché, friend. Touché.”
Daniel kept walking. Gradually, as the minutes came and went. His sword vanished in silver light. His wolf drew down to five minutes.
Night zigzagged around a hail of fire bolts a skeletal mage threw from behind a wall of four skeletal guards with half-broken wooden shields. He moved with the elegance of a shadow; Daniel, not so much.
He was already naked, cooking alive, exhausted, and out of jokes by the time of this ambush. He’d spent more than an hour wandering. Silver fire snuffed out the mage’s damage. The spellcaster had the least clouded monster core of the assortment of undead he’d slain. But Daniel was beyond feeling at this point.
All he saw was the exit within his grasp.
At least, he hoped it was.
“Victory, Carl…”
“I underestimated you, friend… I await your return.”
His shaky legs felt like lead as he held onto Night to steady himself.
He knows I need his resources.
What a clever guy you are, Carl…
He found the stairs behind where the mage had been waiting, and he climbed them.
Air, real air, brushed against his cheek.
Daniel stumbled out into a night full of stars, holding a sword, a silver box, and completely nude. And about thirty feet away, four people around a campfire turned around and looked at him as if he were a ghost.
He raised a hand, a tired voice coming out in what must have been gibberish to them.
“Evening.”
Then the ground came up and took him into her wings’ soft embrace.