Varga took a slow, sip of her warm, savory broth before continuing, the firelight casting dancing shadows across her sharp features. "The trial I took as a child helped me discover I'd been born with the gift. The method our tribe, and even the humans, use to awaken it is through a dungeon." She set her wooden bowl down between them.
"For some reason, it not only awakens the gift but strengthens it afterward upon completion. Some even say it's the gods' way of giving all their creations a chance against the abominations of the Dark Road."
Power from a building underground , he thought. The concept of a dungeon being the source of gaining power was fascinating to say the least.
"So, what you're saying is that in order to awaken this gift, you have to enter and complete a dungeon?" he asked, seeking clarification.
Varga nodded. "That is the known path."
"But how do you know someone has the gift in the first place? Before they ever step inside?" Femi pressed, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.
Varga's expression turned thoughtful as she gazed into the heart of their small fire. "There are different signs, depending on which branch you fall under," she began.
"Enchanters tend to show slight enhancements in strength, speed, and stamina, beyond what's normal for their kind. They perform exceptionally well in physical activities from a very young age." She paused, collecting her thoughts as a log crackled and spat embers.
"As for the Manipulators, or the Shamans as we call them, they seem to get a sense of the world, an intuitive ability to do things that are normally impossible. Like controlling the fall of a leaf from a tree or calming a raging animal with a touch." Varga's eyes sparkled with a hint of excitement as she continued to explain the intricacies of the gift, her hands moving to illustrate her points.
"But in truth," she conceded, "sometimes it doesn't manifest till later in life. So, we Krags have a trial for those who have reached their adulthood to take the trials, gifted or not. The dungeon would judge your worth." She paused, then added "Those who pass become full tribe members. Those who awaken their gift gain status in their respective tribes or human cities. They even get their own titles after completing their trial in the dungeon."
A small, proud smile touched her lips. "I was given the title 'Truth Seeker' after my own trial."
Femi's eyes narrowed slightly as he thought about the title. "Truth Seeker" seemed to fit her well somehow, especially with her intense, glowing eyes that seemed to see right through him, but he didn't voice it out loud. Instead, he let her continue her explanation, the night sounds bird calls of the wilderness providing a active background to her words.
"Usually, those found to have the gift are given special positions," she said, her eyes gleaming with a hint of excitement. "And that's what I plan to use, but that's a story for another time." She leaned in, her voice taking on a more serious, tone. The air around them seemed to grow still. "There are few Kuros users within my clan."
Varga's gaze intensified, her luminous eyes locked onto Femi's, pinning him in place. "That's why I asked you before," she said, her voice becoming more deliberate and measured. "I find you to be different from the other Rat men I've heard about." She gestured vaguely to his body.
"One thing I've noticed is that you're not like them. You're faster, you're stronger, more agile even if lower than the standards of a Krag. You have shown enhanced capabilities that shouldn't be within your kind."
Femi's thought stilled for a moment as Varga's words hung in the air between them. "So, I must ask you again," Varga said, her words leaving no room for evasion. "Have you been to a dungeon?"
Femi's eyes widened as he tried to act surprised, by the question he knew was already coming. He tried to argue, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. "Wait, first let's think about what you are implying..." But Varga's eyes were unyielding, her stare as solid as hard bread.
"Have you been to a dungeon?" she repeated, her voice clear, cutting through his attempted deflection.
Femi's mind began to dance alingo as he tried to process what Varga was saying while formulating a response.
What is she implying?
He thought about rats, how they were supposed to be quick and fast. He couldn't really gauge himself against other Ratmen, since he hadn't met one before his capture. "But aren't they supposed to be quick and agile normally?" he wondered, thinking about the typical depiction of rats and rodents.
He couldn't come up with a suitable explanation, so he decided to tell a half-truth, a partial story to satisfy her curiosity without revealing everything.
"Okay, okay, calm down," he said, exhaling a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "I not sure, but... I might have been in a dungeon once."
Varga's eyes burned into him, and she leaned in closer, the fire deepening the lines of concentration on her face. "Tell me," she commanded softly.
"You see, I woke up in a dark place made of stone, and I met monsters," Femi began to explain, recounting his tale of how he found himself in a dungeon. He told her about the skeletons and goblin, but deliberately left out the voices he heard, the skeleton boss and how he had lost his arm.
"You see, I woke up in a dark place made of stone, cold and damp, with no memory of how I got there," Femi began to explain, recounting his tale carefully. He told her about the menacing skeletons and the ugly goblin, but deliberately left out the disembodied voices he had heard, the formidable skeleton boss, and the bloody event of how he had lost his arm.
Hopefully he painted a picture of a desperate escape properly.
After sharing his edited story, Femi felt a wave of relief wash over him, the burden of his solitary knowledge lessened just slightly. For some reason, keeping that core part of his experience to himself had put a lot of pressure on him, and sharing even this much was a release.
"Interesting," Varga said, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "So, from what you're saying, you managed to escape the first level of a dungeon, but you never completed it. You never met a guardian?" she asked, her voice filled with curiosity.
"A guardian?"
"The strongest being in the dungeon? The one that holds the core of the its power?" She answered, watching him intently for his reaction.
The skeleton king, Femi thought, the memory of the crimson-clad figure wielding his savage blade flashed vividly behind his eyes, but he said nothing, keeping his features carefully neutral.
"So you defeated some skeletons and a goblin ....and left," Varga mused, a subtle skepticism was traceable in her tone, that didn't escape Femi's notice. "Is that what you said?"
"Yes, exactly," Femi lied, keeping the part about the skeleton king who used Kuros, the terrifying power he had somehow survived.
He wasn't sure why he chose to omit those details, but he felt a deep, sense of something, an instinct, or warning telling him not to speak of the fallen king skeleton as he looked into Varga's intense, searching gaze.
He had learnt, through harsh experience, to trust his instincts.
"Then your trial was incomplete," she concluded after a moment. "Most dungeons have three levels, the ones that are usually given to whelps and younglings at that age, at least." She gestured vaguely with her hand.
"Yours might've been the same." Varga's piercing eyes were locked onto Femi's, refusing to relinquish their hold. "But I could be wrong, and you don't know the name of this dungeon?"
Femi shook his head, lying through his teeth. "Nope, I don't know."
Varga took a slow, contemplative sip of her broth and was quiet for a long moment, seemingly lost in her own world of thought. She began to sip more of her food, and Femi followed suit, the simple act of eating providing a brief break from the intensity of their conversation.
The crackle of the fire filled the silence. After a while, she looked up at him again, her expression sharp.
She said, "I noticed it... during our fight with the armoured bear." She leaned forward slightly, the earnest curiosity in her emerald eyes was drawing him in. "For a moment, it was as if you disappeared and then reappeared, but you didn't just vanish. You were moving at such a blinding, incredible speed it was hard for me to keep up with my own eyes."
She set her bowl down with a soft thud. "I want you to describe to me what you felt when that happened. Exactly."
Femi tried to recall the moment, the surge of panic and.... "My heart began to beat like it wanted to come out of me," he said, his hand unconsciously moving to rest over his chest. "It was a loud, painful and... freeing..."
Varga nodded thoughtfully. "The heart... yes. The heart is were Kuros lies dormant in the body."
"Let's finish our meal," she said abruptly, her eyes beginning to sparkle once again with that of excitement. "We have much to discuss after," she added, a new energy in her posture. "I think I've just found a way..."
"A way for what?" Femi asked, intrigued and slightly wary of her sudden shift in mood.
But Varga simply went back to eating her broth with renewed focus, so he took it as a sign to continue eating his own meal in silence.
Femi found the entire situation utterly baffling. He had expected something drastic to happen, like Varga showing anger or deep suspicion about his partial confession of being in a dungeon.
But instead, she had taken it all in stride, absorbing the information as if it were a normal, almost expected thing. "What did I expect?" Femi thought to himself as he went back to eating, the warm broth soothing his throat.
"This is a strange world, after all."
-----
In the cozy confines of the old cabin, Areius and Victor sat down at a wooden table, surrounded by the warm, glow of the hearth fire. The interior of the cabin was cozy, filled with hides and furs draped over chairs and hanging from hooks in the corner. The air inside was thick with the comforting scent of aged wood and burning dark wood.
Arius, with his massive, powerful frame, occupied a great deal of space on his chair, which was a sturdy, thick-legged wooden construct that seemed to be holding up remarkably well under his considerable weight. Victor sat across from him, his posture relaxed, smiling brightly with his white teeth gleaming in the firelight like polished gems.
"Let's get to business, shall we?" Areius began, as his deep voice rumbled through the small space.
Victor chuckled, "The goods, yes. Of course. But before that," he said, raising a single finger, "let's talk about something... interesting.
"Interesting?" Areius repeated, one thick eyebrow rising slightly.
He leaned in, his expression becoming more conspiratorial. "Yes, I have news for you that you'll find particularly interesting. And since we've had such profitable past dealings, I'll give this one to you for free."
Areius's eyes lit up with keen curiosity. "Free? Now that is very interesting," he said, leaning his own formidable bulk forward and resting his thick arms on the table, which creaked softly in protest.
"It seems that a new force has joined the fight on the continent," he began, his previously jovial expression turning serious and grave. "A significant force coming from the western region, and they are attacking the southern cities with surprising coordination."
"The force coming from the west..." Areius's brow furrowed in deep thought, going through various possibilities. "There's no other major force other than the western coalition of humans, Eldrida and the other old races."
"Could it be the goblins?" Arieus mused aloud. "They have been raiding small villages both here and in the south, but it's nothing serious that the southern cities haven't already handled a hundred times before."
"No, it is not goblins," Victor said, shaking his head slowly. "The western coalition itself seems to have their hands full with this new enemy, but news on that front has been tightly hushed, even for a man with my sources." Victor said this with a light, knowing smile and a dramatic sigh, as if personally slighted by the lack of information.
Victor's smile then completely disappeared, replaced by a look of utter gravity. "No. There are... whispers, persistent whispers, that the Grey Ones have returned."
Areius's face darkened instantly, his expression turning into a deep, troubled frown. "The Grey Ones? That's a poor joke. They haven't been seen or heard from in hundreds of years. They are now nothing more than a myth to scare children."
Victor shrugged his shoulders elegantly. "That is why most dismiss it as mere rumors, but rumors like that seem to deeply upset the nobles in their high castles, and they are panicking. While they still fight their war in the east, some are already pulling back part of their troops to the west. Others have begun to recruit new, fresh soldiers to be sent immediately to the western border."
Areius's eyes narrowed to slits, and he contemplated this startling news for a long, silent moment.
Victor continued, his voice taking on a more conspiratorial tone. "What's also interesting is that they're pulling back to defend their more important, central cities, leaving the outskirts and the trade routes... vulnerable."
His sharp, cunning grin returned, wider this time. "If you know what I mean."
Areius smiled slowly, a knowing, predatory glint appearing in his eye. "I see."