Dual Wielding

Just outside of town, about a twenty-minute walk away, was a large cliff at the foot of the windfall mountains, within this cliff was a large cave, its jagged entrance giving the impression of a large maw, as if the mountain itself was rising up to swallow whoever was foolish enough to enter its depths.

Dungeons such as this were well-known in Aeora, entire industries and professions being created from hunting the vast riches they contained. Every year, thousands of brave souls would enter them, deep within the bowels of the earth, hidden away in forgotten parts of forests, or even in large unnatural towers rising up into the sky.

Much about their origins were unknown, many considered them a blessing from the old gods, others a curse. Some even made the outlandish claim that they were fragments of Gilgamesh the titan, his body scattered across the land after his defeat at the hands of the first spirit knight over a thousand years ago, attracting hordes of monsters as they waited for his eventual return.

However little was known about how they formed, what was known about them was this: somewhere hidden within each dungeon was a large pearlescent orb, an object which filled the dungeon with unknown energies. As a result of these energies, monsters were both drawn to, and perpetually reborn in the realm within. Occasionally, bands of adventurers or knights would venture deep into the dungeon, removing this “dungeon core” and clearing the dungeon, causing most of the strange phenomenon to cease.

These dungeon cores were the subject of incredible amounts of academic discussion, many long and tedious papers had been written and studies conducted to determine what made them tick, to little avail. Most became inert upon being removed from their domains, and the few that didn’t hadn’t shed much light on the mysteries of the dungeon yet.

Wyn might’ve been interested in that sort of stuff, but Corrin didn’t really care about the details. Dungeons were cool, filled with monsters, magic, and hopefully, new challenges for him to test himself against.

Apprehensions about his new life aside, this was one thing Corrin was actually looking forward to. Stories from Irym and Terris painted something of a picture, but he hoped experiencing it for himself would be different. He and Wyn had snuck in once or twice when they were younger, but never stayed for long, or went in too deep. They didn’t have a map like the tomb guardians did, and the tunnels were complex and numerous. And, for all their antics, getting caught in the dungeon would likely lead to far more serious punishments than they’d had before. It likely would’ve meant they wouldn’t have been trusted to succeed Irym and Terris in guarding the tomb. Wyn cared about the duty, and Corrin wasn’t going to give up the most interesting job in town.

That and a few shallow, chaperoned runs with their mentors were the only times they’d been inside, meaning the bulk of the first floor was still a mystery. Corrin took a moment to take in the atmosphere of the entrance: the way the ever-present wind in the valley rustled the grass on the side of the path, the darkness of the cave, the quiet sound of—

“That pack looks really funny on you,” Wyn teased, “Is it taller than you are?”

Corrin gave him a dry look, the leather packs on their backs were comically large, and the leather armor and cloaks they wore only made them look odder, “You’re supposed to be the straight man Wyn, don’t get our roles mixed up, I’m the funny one.”

Wyn snorted, “You only think that because all my jokes go over your head.”

“Wyn you’re only four inches taller than me.”

“Geez, someone’s short tempered today.”

“Shut the—” Corrin stifled a chuckle, “Shut the hell up. This is a serious moment.”

“Is it though? It’s not even the first time we’ve been down here,” Wyn shrugged.

“Yeah, but this time it’s real, maybe we’ll run into a second-floor monster! Or maybe a horde!”

“Try not to get your hopes up,” Wyn said, “The first floor is pretty safe man. I doubt we’ll face too many life-threatening things today.”

“You’re ruining the fun.”

“See? Doing my job better already.” Wyn slapped him on the back and walked in. Corrin followed a step later.

There was no change in intensity when he walked in, no feeling of dread, just the sense of the air getting a little more humid, and the morning sun getting dimmer. Though dark, the cave was dimly lit—at least in all the explored areas thanks to large, naturally occurring lightstones embedded into the walls, and growing from the floor in some cases like stalagmites. The floor, walls, and ceilings almost seemed naturally forming, but further inspection would reveal they were too uniform in their size and shape. The sound of dripping water echoed faintly through the labyrinth, just barely loud enough for Corrin to hear.

Wyn pulled out their map, marking it as they went. It was a tip that Irym had given them, to make sure they didn’t lose track of where they were while they were still getting used to the dungeon. Marked on the map was a large semicircle, indicating the region for the cave they hoped to clear. Clearing the region or killing a certain number of monsters: completing either of those goals indicated they were “done”, but it was generally expected that they’d overachieve a bit, especially while they were new.

“This tunnel?” Corrin pointed down one of the branching pathways.

Wyn shook his head, “No let’s start with this one, if we take the connecting route here,” he pointed at the map, “Then we can clear these two pretty quick and hit that one last.”

“Fair enough, lead the way.”

The official reason for the dungeon guards was to keep the population of monsters on the first floor low and away from the entrance, attempting to keep any from escaping into the nearby countryside and causing problems. Corrin was pretty sure at one point it had been considered a “sacred duty” or something as well, but nowadays it was basically an open secret that the reason was far simpler: dungeons were profitable. Many cities in the rest of Aeora were built on dungeons purely to gain access to the limitless resources they provided. The main source of which were monsters. Inside of each beast in the dungeon was a small magic stone, a valuable resource which could be used for… well, something. Corrin knew it had something to do with mages, and he was pretty sure they were used to make things like lightstones and firestones, and he had no idea how they worked.

Nonetheless, the dungeon and the magic stones within were what afforded Straetum such prosperity considering its location. If it hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere, cast out from the rest of the world, it might’ve even been a thriving city.

“Hey, Wyn, do you think other dungeons are like this one?”

Wyn rubbed his chin, “Well, the Tower of Heaven is a dungeon, right? And it’s a tower, so it has to be different from this. Though I think most of them are pretty cavey from what I’ve read.”

“Cavey?”

Wyn shrugged, “Why do you ask?”

“No reason really.” Corrin kept walking, looking at the dreary walls of the tunnel. Occasionally, extra-strong monsters would show up on the first floor. Since they weren’t seen usually, and their types were mostly consistent, it was a theory among the tomb guards that there were more layers to the founder’s tomb than the first, at least one, with stronger monsters. He couldn’t help but wonder what that second layer might be like, whether it was different from the first in its structure, or just the same but more dangerous.

Corrin heard a shuffling sound from ahead, interrupting his thoughts. Finally, some action! He held out a hand to alert Wyn and drew his sword, creeping forward into the tunnel. They’d fought a few small monsters before, but this was different. There were no guardians to bail them out, no help, and they were deeper into the first floor than they’d ever been. He held out hope, maybe the tomb would be exciting after all.

***

Corrin’s hopes had been shoved right back into his chest.

“We should clear the dungeon.”

“This again?” Wyn groaned. “We’ve only been here for two hours and you’re already going insane.”

“I’m serious,” Corrin closed his eyes and stroked his chin, in his mind the picture of sage wisdom. “We could totally do it; these guys are weaklings.”

Wyn grunted as he cut into a dead kobold’s chest with a long knife, attempting to harvest the magic stone from within the creature’s corpse. “We’re in the shallowest part of the tomb Corrin, all the monsters up here are weak. That’s the point. They need teams of adventurers and knights to clear a dungeon, not two barely-adults.”

“Yeah yeah, but this is so boring.” Corrin watched further down the tunnel, making sure nothing snuck up on them.

“That’s a good thing dumbass. It means the first floor is relatively clear, you know the job, keep the first floor clear so monsters don’t wander out, gather what we can, and get out alive.” Finally, Wyn extracted the crystal, a small pink stone the size of a pebble and placed it in a bag with the other three they’d harvested so far. A few moments later, the monster’s corpse began to dissolve into black ash, just like every other monster once its core was removed.

In truth, Corrin was surprised at how easy this was proving. From everything he’d heard, it should’ve been far more dangerous. Yet, in the two hours so far, none of the monsters they’d encountered had proven more than a minor inconvenience. He knew they were strong, perhaps the strongest guardians Straetum had ever seen, but still…

“The first floor isn’t even fully mapped Wyn, we’ve been patrolling this floor for 500 years and still haven’t even found the entrance to the second floor, no one is trying.”

“And what does it matter?” Wyn snapped, “What, we’re going to map the whole first floor and get ourselves killed trying to clear the damn thing because what? You’re bored?”

“It's not just–” Corrin stopped at the sound of chattering from another section of the dungeon, like the sound of bone clacking against bone.

Wyn sighed, “Look, I get it, there hasn’t been much going on and you’re antsy about it cause it's our first day, but let’s just get the job done and go. Besides, that sounds like an ossein spider, so maybe you’ll get your excitement after all. You want to fight it alone?”

“Maybe I do,” Corrin said unconcernedly, crossing his arms and looking away in mock offense. Honestly the idea was appealing, but perhaps another time.

“Whatever man,” Wyn snorted, “Let’s get to work.”

He stood up and drew his sword as Corrin did the same, they began walking towards the sound just around the corner. As they reached the corner, Wyn held up his hand and began counting down from three on his fingers. Then, as one, they turned the corner with their swords drawn.

“Ew what the hell?” Corrin exclaimed as they laid eyes upon the ossein spider, a large arachnid the size of a dog. Its body was mostly constructed of bone, with exposed ligaments and muscles traveling down the length of each limb, clearly visible. With each of its movements, Corrin could see the visible connective tissues stretch and twitch.

The spider rushed them from its initial position about twenty feet away. It was on them in an instant, but they were more than prepared. As it raised a bony leg, sharpened to a point, and poised to strike them, Wyn stepped forwards and brought his sword up, slashing through the sinew connecting it to the rest of the body. The leg fell limp as the beast screeched in pain, its remaining limbs lashing out in a frenzy. Before the first strike had even connected however, Corrin was already following up, thrusting his sword into the spider’s eyes and out the other side, felling the monster in an instant.

“Gods this thing is creepy,” He remarked as the legs still flailed weakly on the other end of his blade, the body still reacted even though he was pretty sure the thing was dead. After a moment though, the thrashing stopped and he pulled his blade out, flicking it to the side to clear the worst of the goo before pulling a rag out of his pack to wipe it off.

“No kidding,” Wyn replied, “For all that though, I was kind of expecting more.” He looked down at the corpse, a brief flash of disappointment showing on his face before it was smothered behind indifference.

“What’s the harvest of ossein spiders again?” Corrin asked absentmindedly as he sheathed his sword and began pulling out his knife.

“Core and bones,” Wyn replied.

Corrin sighed, and the pair got to work.

***

They left the cave just before sunset, taking a moment to appreciate the view of the world above once again. The gentle wind blew the grass in the plains with a lazy sort of motion, the outside world almost idyllic compared to the dark and damp dungeon. Just outside the entrance was a large statue, cut in the image of the first and greatest king, Edrian Spiritstorm.

According to local myth, he’d tasked the first guards with keeping watch over the dungeon before ascending to the heavens. Corrin always thought the statue looked a little too perfect, clearly taking some liberties with the man’s appearance, but it was a cool feature, nonetheless.

They started walking back towards town and had only taken a few steps when Corrin caught sight of a man walking towards them along the path. He waved as he drew nearer.

“How was your first day?” The guard, a middle-aged man named Orm asked politely as they stopped for a moment. He was a nice enough man; they’d met him before while apprenticing the older guards.

“Not too bad,” Wyn replied, “There was an ossein spider which was interesting, but besides that there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.”

“An ossein, on your first day? And you don’t have a scratch on you?” He chuckled, “They weren’t kidding about you two. Well anyways, I look forward to working together in the future! I’ll have my wife make some snacks to give to you next time. I bet you’re quite hungry.”

“That would be nice,” Corrin said, “Do you have an apprentice Elder Orm?”

“Aye, that I do. He’s still only twelve though, so still a while before he’ll be replacing me. Sorry but you’ll be stuck with me until then,” He laughed.

The guarding of the cave was generally done in two shifts, two people to go into the cave during the day to clear it out, and one at night to deal with any monsters that may have been missed and wandered out of the dungeon after sunset. Usually this either entailed just killing it themselves, or in more dire cases, rushing to the village to wake the day guards, though either case was very rare. In all the history of Straetum, only one night guard had ever died.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the pair made their way back to the village bathhouse to relax. Corrin had never actually been there before, instead he and the other children at the church just washed off in a tub out back. They had to do something similar at the bathhouse, washing off in a tub beforehand, but the reward was more than worth it. The outdoor bath was quite large, enough to hold around fifteen to twenty people comfortably, and the water was apparently heated by magic stones under the floor, courtesy of previous tomb guards and the help of a wandering mage who’d passed through over fifteen years ago.

Corrin dipped his toe in and pulled it back out. “It really is hot!” He exclaimed.

“Of course it is, did you think I was lying?” Wyn laughed, casually settling into the water.

Well, he wasn’t one to be outdone. Corrin stepped in and tried to relax, which was honestly easy. The hot water really did feel good, and he was able to just sit back and enjoy. He wasn’t sore, they hadn’t done enough to push him today, but it felt absolutely divine on some of the bruises he’d gotten from training.

“Wow,” Corrin said after a moment, “That feels great. I can see why Irym recommended it.”

Wyn shrugged, “Yeah it’s not bad.”

Corrin splashed water at him, “Oh act like you haven’t been here before, one of us has had to bathe in a wooden tub filled with cold water from the river every day.” They bathed in silence for a bit, neither speaking for a good while as they simply relaxed and enjoyed the water. After a bit, Corrin kicked off the wall of the bath and floated around on his back.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to swim in the bath,” Wyn said.

“So, not too bad for our first day, yeah?” Corrin kicked a bit of water at his friend.

“I think we actually broke the record for first day harvest size.”

“Really? We didn’t even do that much I thought.”

“Yeah, I don’t know…I mean it’s not worth complaining about, right? If that’s what it’s like we’re pretty much set,” Wyn said. Corrin couldn’t see him while on his back, but he sounded as though he were lost in thought.

“What do you want to buy once we get paid?” Corrin asked.

“My brother’s been asking for a sword, so maybe I’ll buy him a nice wooden one. How about you?”

“I’m not really sure,” Corrin answered, “The old man says I can stay at the church as long as I need, so I’m not too worried about getting a place yet, but maybe I’ll save for that.”

“Not a bad idea,” Wyn said, “But in case you forgot, there should be a caravan arriving next month.”

Corrin’s head shot up, “Really? I thought it wasn’t supposed to be until the start of summer!”

Now there was some news. Though rarely, merchant caravans would show up in Straetum several times throughout the year to buy and trade for the glut of magic stones Straetum would accumulate during the months between visits. More importantly though, they brought news of the outside world.

“Yeah, you probably didn’t hear, but they mentioned it last time. They moved the schedule up so Nema can make it back in time for his son to be born.”

“Nema?”

“Dude there’s only two groups that come out here. How do you not know their names yet?”

“I know Harv,” Corrin protested.

“Everybody knows Harv! And with how you pester him for news I sure hope you’d at least know his name. Nema’s the younger guy with blonde hair, he’s about your height?”

“That does sound familiar… I’m sure I’ll recognize him when I see him.”

Wyn rolled his eyes, “Well anyways, yeah, they’ll be here. Just in time for us to finally have some money. Exciting stuff.”

Corrin was already figuring out a list of things to ask when they arrived, right alongside a list of things he wanted to buy. Caravan arrivals were always some of his favorite times of year.

They talked for a bit longer, discussing their plans for the next day and reviewing some of what they’d learned about the tomb. It wasn’t really anything new, just about everything had gone as they’d expected, but Wyn insisted it was worth it anyways. Eventually though, it had to come to an end.

“Well, I’ve got to get going,” Wyn said, getting up and stretching, “I told my mother I’d help with dinner tonight, and I’m pretty sure I’m already late. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” He held out a fist.

“Of course,” Corrin bumped it with his own, smiling, “I’ll see you tomorrow man.”

The smile faded almost as soon as Wyn turned around and started leaving. Corrin returned to his floating position and watched the twilight sky as it futilely clung to the last glow of sunlight.

“Tomorrow, huh…” The words escaped his mouth softly, like steam from the surface of the water. And the next day, and the next, and the day after that.

Eventually, light faded, and the endless dark canvas filled with stars. The town had grown quiet, leaving Corrin alone with the crickets, the occasional hooting of an owl, and his own thoughts. He drifted in the water aimlessly, breathing in the hot, humid air as it rose from the bath, clearing his lungs.

“Um, excuse me,” A voice called out. Corrin slowly rose up, realizing it was the owner, an older man who ran the bathhouse with his wife. “It’s quite late, we’re closing for the day. You’re welcome to stay obviously… you’re the guardian and all, but—”

“Ah, sorry,” Corrin held out a hand, “I didn’t realize how long I’d been in here. I’ll be right out.”

If it was closing time, he must’ve been there for a while. He felt a bit bad for the owners since they had seemed a bit nervous about telling him that. Most of the older folk around town didn’t get along with him, but he didn’t know these ones very well. They probably thought of him as Wyn’s important friend and the honored guardian of the tomb.

He quickly dried off and put on a simple clean robe they had for him, he’d have to bring it back tomorrow, but that wasn’t a problem. There was also a pair of sandals which he greatly appreciated, letting his feet cool in the fresh air while keeping them dirt-free. As always, a gentle wind wound between the buildings, but Corrin wasn’t cold. Soon he reached the main road, and his sandals met the cobblestone, clopping quietly as he looked at the dimmed lights which illuminated the street.

When he arrived back at the church, he went in the front. There was a side-door to the sleeping quarters, but its hinges were rusted and creaky, and his youngest siblings would definitely be asleep by now.

Fenfreth was sitting in the kitchen reading letters when Corrin arrived. He looked up, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled, “Welcome home Corrin, you were out quite late. How was your first day? I left some stew in the pot for you.”

Corrin thanked him and scooped himself a large bowl. Lunch had been a long time ago, and he’d been starving for hours. “It was good,” He said, taking a seat, “We finished early, I just lost track of time.”

“I see, well I’m glad it went alright. Are you excited to go back tomorrow?”

Corrin paused, “Well, sure. Maybe we can explore a little deeper tomorrow, I’m sure we’ll find something cool down there.”

Fenfreth started to say something, but he stopped himself and smiled, “May the spirits guide you towards what you seek.”

He didn’t say a word after that, and Corrin ate the stew quickly in silence before getting up to head towards the bedrooms.

“Going to bed early, are we?” Fenfreth noted, glancing up. “The cave must’ve really worn you out.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m just tired.”

Fenfreth gave him a sad look, “I suppose so. Sleep well Corrin, I’ll make your favorite pancakes tomorrow, ok?”

“Thanks gramps… that sounds delicious,” Corrin walked into the next room, sneaking past his sibling’s beds before arriving at his own room.

The room had belonged to one of his older brothers when he’d been younger, but he’d since more than made it his own—well, as best as he could. It was a small space, filled almost entirely by just his desk, bed, and nightstand, though he had added a rug to cover the old wooden floor. On top of the simple desk was a map he’d been looking at; he had a collection of different ones from all over Aeora. He set down the large pack, placing it next to his door so he didn’t forget it the next day, and he hung his sword up on the wall, proudly displayed above his bed. Out of habit he walked towards the chair first, ready to sit and glance over it again, but then he stopped.

He didn’t really want to do this tonight.

Corrin glanced out the window of his bedroom, looking into the horizon, where the Northern Plateau stretched out, and the rest of Aeora awaited. Then, with a sigh, he got into bed and without bothering to even pull the blanket over himself, he closed his eyes.

Tonight, Corrin just wanted to dream.