The Dungeon Child

ONCE UPON A TIME

Or rather, before time.

Either way, once upon a time and once before time was concrete, there existed three entities. They were known as the imaginative Artist, the cold Scientist, and the fair Architect.

One not-day, the Artist painting in her studio of reality decided to create a canvas. The ultimate canvas, the ultimate art, and her name written at the corner. Seizing her brushes and her paint, the Artist got to work.

She painted stars, great purple flurries of cosmic glory. She painted supernovas, awesome in their terrifying majesty. She painted suns burning brightly in their fixed places. She painted singularities sparking and exuding power. And she painted the world.

Excited, the Artist went out of her way to paint the world in all the detail she could manage. Carefully making creatures and animals with all of her magnificent skill, she created waves for the finned to swim through, blue skies for the winged to fly through, green grass for the legged to walk upon, and unseeable dimensions for the legless to traverse.

In his laboratory of non-existence, the Scientist observed her world and thought to himself, "Why should my sister get all the fun? Why should there not be rules for this world?"

Once the Artist had left to paint more stars and galaxies and universes, the Scientist descended upon the world and began to make reason for the world's existence. He created gravity, an orbit for which the world could rotate around the sun along with its fellow planets. He created instinct, giving the animals reign to attack and eat each other. He created decay, and along with them mushrooms to operate that decay. He designed the moon, using its gravity to make a reason for the waves. And after a full month of work, he created his own masterpiece. The System.

When the Artist returned to her world, she found a husk of her old Eden, overrun with logic and knowledge. In her fury, she painted great strokes across it all, erasing much of her greatest work and taking the Scientist's work with it. In his irritation, the Scientist asked her, "Why did you do that? It was beatiful!"

"It was beatiful before you ruined it!" She responded, clenching her brushes with a great and powerful grip.

The Scientist retorted, "I didn't ruin it, I gave it reason!"

Their argument rocked the stars, and the world they had created shook in its base. The Architect, busy in his creation of the multiverses, saw it and was stunned. Arriving in his own fashion, the Architect asked of them, "What is going on?"

They both gave their version of the story, the Artist weeping at the destruction of her masterpiece and the Scientist shouting his grievance at the ruination of his. With a wave of his hand, the Architect leveled it all and erased the world from existence, asking them, "Would you prefer this?"

Stunned, the two younger entites stared at the blank space where their world had once existed and agreed, "No. We want there to be a world for both of us."

Shaking his head, the Architect told them, "You are both genius in your craft. Can you not find a way to work together?"

They glared at each other, and the Architect sighed. "Very well. Then I shall create a world, and you may both do with it as you please."

The world appeared, and the Artist and the Scientist stared in shock. It was the same one that had just been destroyed. "Architect," the Artist inquired, "What is the meaning of this?" The Scientist merely watched in curiosity - his System was back in place, but it had changed. It had been... perfected.

"Sister," the Scientist asked, "I believe we can cooperate. Is there nothing we can do together?"

The Artist stared at the world, and smiled. It was not so ruined as she had thought it was. It had grown, had matured, and she had hated the change. What sort of art would stay the same? "I think there is."

As they hovered over the world, carefully creating an artwork and a law, the Architect smiled. They would always make up, he reflected. They simply needed some help every now and then. Leaving them to their work, he went back to design the multiverse.

They created a being with two legs, hairless but for a tuft on the top of its head. The Artist gave it two arms and ten fingers, dexterous to create the art it could make. The Scientist gave it a brain, logical and contemplative so as to perform its own tasks in autonomy.

And thus was the first human made.

Standing back from the fruit of their work, the tired Artist and Scientist went to their home and rested.

Several centuries later, they returned to the world, eager to discover what majesties their creation had built in their absence. To their horror and shock, the human had created more of its kind, and they fought each other with the same fervor that the Artist and the Scientist did, rending the world in their fury.

Looking to each other, the Scientist said quietly, "We should get rid of it."

The Artist refused, shaking her head. "No," she replied, "We must create something to counteract it."

The Scientist agreed, and they created another creature. This one would not make more of itself, but would make animals and creatures. It would create ever-deepening floors, would create art to decorate the floors, and would be such a great threat that humanity as a race would have no other option than to unite against it. This creature would not be made of flesh and blood, but would be made of magic and stone. It would be an artist like its progenitor, and a scientist like its designer. Above all else, it would be an architect to imitate the one who had made them discover the joy of cooperation. It would do all of this with the assistance of the System.

And thus was the first dungeon created, and its name was Argus.