Elias walked on his toes. He held the hem of his grey robes hitched up to his shins, stepping gingerly over puddles of questionable sludge that shimmered with an oily, magical sheen.

  "This," Elias announced, his voice echoing in the damp tunnel, "is unacceptable."

  He missed the Third Era. He missed the Pristine tiles, which were inhabited by helpful gelatinous cubes that scrubbed the stone daily. He missed the smell of ozone and lemon-scented mana. This place just smelled like a sewer.

  "It is the sewer, Sir," Rylus said. The Knight was walking ahead, his boots splashing heavily in the muck. "It is not designed for comfort. It is designed for... waste."

  "It is designed poorly," Elias corrected. "The slope is insufficient. The drainage is clogged. If I were the City Architect, I would have been fired. Or executed. Depending on the King's mood."

  They trudged deeper. The light from the street grates above faded, replaced by a suffocating darkness.

  Rylus tripped over a piece of rusted pipe. He cursed, the sound sharp and metallic.

  "I cannot see my own feet," Rylus grumbled. "Sir, do you have a light? A light?"

  Elias stopped. He looked into the gloom.

  "Darkness is bad," Elias agreed.

  He raised his hand. He didn't want fire. Fire consumed oxygen, and the air down here was already thin. He needed something natural. Something soft.

  He looked at the walls. They were covered in patches of damp, grey moss.

  Elias thought.

  He reached out. He visualized a gentle, firefly-green light. He pushed a trickle of mana into the moss.

  "[Bioluminescence]," he whispered.

  He forgot that 'Life Mana' in the Golden Era was a scarce resource. The moss was starving. When Elias fed it, it didn't just eat; it feasted.

  HUMMMMM.

  The walls didn't just glow. They ignited.

  Neon green light, bright enough to be seen from orbit, exploded from the moss. But that wasn't the worst part.

  The moss .

  It surged outward like green foam, expanding instantly. It covered the floor. It covered the ceiling. It sealed the tunnel behind them in a wall of vibrating, pulsing vegetation.

  And it made a sound.

  ZZZZZ-HUMMMM-ZZZZZ.

  A low, resonant vibration filled the tunnel. It sounded like a choir of a thousand electric bees humming in harmony.

  Rylus covered his ears. "Sir... the walls are singing."

  "They are happy," Elias said, looking at the blindingly bright, fuzzy green tunnel. "They are... grateful to be useful."

  He decided not to mention that he had accidentally evolved a new species of sentient fungus. It seemed rude to point it out.

  "Keep moving," Elias said, adjusting his hood to block out the glare. "Before they start asking for names."

  They walked for another mile through the singing, neon tunnel.

  Then, they hit a blockade.

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  A makeshift barricade of crates and barrels blocked the path. Sitting on top of it were three men in ragged leather armor. They held crossbows. They looked dirty, mean, and very confused by the glowing moss.

  "Halt!" the leader shouted. He was a short man with a scar running through his eyebrow. He leveled a crossbow at Rylus.

  Entity:Class:Level:Threat:

  "This is Rat King territory!" Mimm yelled, trying to look intimidating despite the fact that the wall next to him was humming a C-Major chord. "Pay the Flesh Toll, or we feed you to the slimes!"

  Elias sighed.

  "Flesh Toll?" Elias asked. "Do you accept currency? Or must I donate a limb?"

  "Coin or blood, old man!" Mimm spat.

  Elias felt that familiar twitch in his fingers. The urge to tidy up.

  He reached for his staff.

  Elias thought. '

  He took a step forward.

  Rylus moved.

  The Knight stepped in front of Elias. He didn't draw his sword. He just pushed Elias gently behind him, shielding the Librarian with his body.

  "Sir," Rylus whispered. "Let me handle this."

  "He is threatening us," Elias pointed out. "I can eliminate him."

  "You will accidentally collapse the city," Rylus hissed. "Please. I am a Knight. Let me do my job."

  Elias paused. He looked at Rylus’s back. The armor was dented. The cloak was stained with ink and mud. But Rylus stood tall.

  Elias lowered his hand.

  Rylus turned to Mimm. He didn't look like a tired traveler anymore. He looked like a storm in steel.

  He drew his sword. The blade was chipped, but it sang as it left the scabbard.

  "Stand aside, citizen!" Rylus roared. His voice echoed down the tunnel, amplified by the acoustics of the moss. "We are on Royal Business! High Priority! Class Alpha!"

  Mimm blinked. "Royal... business?"

  "The Mage Guard is behind us!" Rylus lied, pointing a gauntleted finger back the way they came. "They are burning this tunnel! Look at the light! Look at the moss! Do you want to be purged?"

  Mimm looked at the neon green, vibrating walls. He looked at Elias’s glowing eyes. He looked at the desperate, crazy edge in Rylus’s expression.

  "Purged?" Mimm squeaked.

  "RUN!" Rylus screamed. "Before the Heretic finds you!"

  Mimm didn't ask questions. He dropped his crossbow. He scrambled over the barricade, kicking his friends in the face. The Rat Kings scattered like... well, rats.

  In seconds, the tunnel was empty.

  Rylus sheathed his sword. His hands were shaking.

  "That," Rylus exhaled, "was a bluff."

  Elias looked at him.

  "It was effective," Elias said. "You were very loud."

  He felt a strange warmth in his chest again. Gratitude? No. It was just... security. For the first time in three hundred years, someone else had stood in front of the danger.

  They found a dry alcove a few hundred yards past the barricade. The singing moss hadn't reached this far yet.

  Elias sat on a stone ledge. He was tired. The mana in the air down here was foul—tainted with waste and decay. It tasted like licking a battery.

  He reached into his pocket. He pulled out the letter.

  He didn't open it. He just traced the signature with his thumb. .

  "You knew him?" Rylus asked quietly. He was sitting on the floor, cleaning the mud off his boots. "The Saint? Personally?"

  Elias looked at the wax seal.

  "He was not a Saint," Elias said softly. "He was a man who burned his toast. He snored. He cheated at cards. And he owed me five silver."

  Rylus smiled faintly. "He sounds... human."

  "He was," Elias said. "That was the problem. Humans break."

  He put the letter away. He looked at the dark tunnel stretching out ahead of them.

  "I do not know where to go, Rylus," Elias admitted. The words tasted heavy. "The Academy is locked. My home is a crater. The tea is gone. I am just... drifting."

  It was the first time he had said it aloud. The aimlessness. The void inside him that was bigger than the Void he had escaped.

  Rylus stopped cleaning his boot. He looked up.

  "Then we drift together, Sir," Rylus said. "Until we hit something solid."

  Elias looked at the Knight. He nodded. Once.

  "Acceptable."

  They reached the end of the tunnel an hour later.

  It didn't end in a ladder or a grate. It ended in a massive, heavy iron door set into the stone.

  The door was rusted shut. It looked like it hadn't been opened since the Third Era.

  But Elias saw something under the rust.

  He stepped closer. He brushed the grime away with his sleeve.

  Etched into the metal was a symbol.

  It wasn't the Royal Crest. It wasn't the Mage Guild Eye.

  It was a Tea CupLightning Bolt

  striking it.

  Elias froze.

  "The Sigil," he whispered.

  "Whose sigil?" Rylus asked, squinting at the crude drawing.

  "Arion's," Elias said. A smile—a real one—touched his lips. "He drew this. He always hated the front gate of the Academy. He said the stairs were pretentious. He built a tunnel so he could sneak out to buy donuts."

  Elias placed his hand on the door.

  He didn't need a spell. He didn't need to force it.

  The door hummed. It recognized the mana signature. It remembered the hand of the student who used to sneak out with the Master.

  CLICK.

  The heavy tumblers rolled back. The door swung inward with a groan of welcoming steel.

  Cool, clean air rushed out to meet them.

  "The city tried to bury the past," Elias said, stepping through the frame.

  He looked back at Rylus, his eyes glowing in the dark.

  "But they forgot one thing," Elias whispered. "The roots always go deeper than the rot."

  Status UpdateMana Consumed:Current Mood:Rylus Loyalty:

  +18 (The Protector) Local Flora:Objective:

  The Back Door