The Dungeon Child

I am practicing in my room. There are no problems.

Thesis is swooping about the ceiling-mounted fan, which while presently inactive makes for a pretty bad nesting place. If the Mother enters and ends up turning it on, then her carefully crafted web will - oh, never mind. She's just putting webbing in random places and stringing it back and forth.

I really need to have that conversation with her about appropriate trapmaking, but there is no problem.

The exercise I'm performing is a simple one. So simple, in fact, that even the newest dungeon would be able to perform it with absolute ease. Dimensional manipulation.

All I'm trying to do is extend the corners of my room a bit, maybe add a hallway to the side, but my focus isn't especially good today, and all I'm doing is making space wobble a bit.

Okay, fine, maybe there's a problem.

I am... deficient in a certain field.

My eyes flick up to Thesis, who is pointedly ignoring me. I'm fairly sure she's ignoring me because she knows how absolutely pathetic I am, that I do not even know how to read.

Agh. I hate even thinking it.

Pulling a piece of paper to me, I write down a quick summary of the basic types of optimal bosses as they relate to environments and ambient mana densities, using a thick green rod to do so. I then compare it to a colorful book the Mother had placed in my room at some point, sighing as I see the comparison. It's scribbles, nonsensical when placed next to my albeit shaky handwriting. Of course, my writing would be less than excellent - I've only had hands for six years and I couldn't use them for anything during four of those.

Lying flat on my back, mind racing, I sigh again. Thesis' webs are looking better by the day, despite their apparent irrational placement. Why, all she'd be catching with those are common houseflies and the odd bluebottle.

As one of the small insects buzzes into the room, hovering lazily around the ceiling, I can practically see Thesis' fangs salivating from here. Using mana sense I can technically see it, but it's more of a fuzzy image than the crystal clear omniscience I possessed as a core.

Paladins, what I wouldn't give to still be a core.

Rolling over onto my fat appropriately sized stomach, I place my chin in my hands despondently. What's the point of living in a human body if I can't even distort space to my whims? Such an existence would be just... sad.

Allowing my face to drop into the very soft fake fur carpet, I scream into it. Why? Why why why why why? What had I possibly done over the entirety of my dungeony life to deserve being shoved into this feeble body? I had been one of the most successful dungeons of all time! My halls had seen more deaths than that of any other! I had a level one hundred and thirty boss spider! I should have been rewarded for my proficiency, not deposed and dethroned like a common thief!

The Mother opens my domain's door, entering with a concerned expression. "Jason? Are you all right?"

I sit up, staring at the ground as I mumble shamefacedly, "I cannot read."

She smiles, getting down on her knees and putting her hands on my shoulders. "It's pretty disappointing, right?"

I grimace in response, and she laughs. My face flushes red in fury, and she continues, "When I was your age, I couldn't read either. It took me all the way until I was eight to get the hang of it, and my writing was still pretty bad. It's not the end of the world if you can't read, Jason."

I frowned. "But it's embar-emb-"

She looks into my strange eyes warmly. "It's okay, I know what you're trying to say, honey. Saying big words can help me feel bigger, but sometimes you need small words to make you feel better."

My eyes narrow suspiciously. "Like what?"

Wrapping her arms around me and tucking me into her shoulder, she whispers, "Like the words 'I love you'."

I snort loudly, my chin sitting on her shoulder. "Who would say that to me?" It's a fair question. My spiders never spoke and the adventurers delving into my depths never offered a kind word, either.

Leaning back, she gently pokes my chest, right above my core, with her finger. "I would. I love you, Jason. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, my little genius."

My face flushes again, but not with rage. I don't know what emotion this is, but it feels... good. Like an impenetrable defense, but one that someone else has set up. For a moment, I feel as safe as if I had been back in my dungeon core room, underneath a hundred floors of stone and monsters, behind a solid door.

Drops of liquid start welling up at the corner of my eyes, and I wipe them away. Just another strange human issue to deal with.

Patting my head, the Mother stands up and leaves. Right before she closes the door, she points at me and says again, "I love you, Jason. Don't forget it."

Several minutes after she's gone, I'm still sitting here, contemplating her words. Turning my head to the ceiling, where Thesis is happily diving into the corpse of a housefly, I tell her, "I love you, Thesis." I roll the words around in my mouth, seeing if they feel right.

They do.