Misadventures Incorporated

Chapter 386 - Another Day, Another Dungeon III

The sole clerk running the bureau of egg hunting, embezzlement, and episodic endeavours put on a pair of comically small glasses and quickly flipped through his binder. He didn't stop until he arrived at a page almost immediately adjacent to its back cover. Marked with a bright red tag, it had the words Crimson Rock scribbled front and center.

“So first things first, let’s talk equipment. The dungeon is set in an active volcano, but don’t be fooled, you’ll need a lot more than your standard heatproof gear. It’s got alternating lava levels and water levels, so you’ll need to bring equipment for underwater expeditions as well. We’ve gotten a few reports that it’s possible to make it down to the sixth floor or so without swimming if you force it, but it isn’t gonna be easy. Oh, and you’ll also need enchanted weapons for anyone that relies heavily on physical damage. Some of the monsters don’t respond to anything but elemental damage unless you’ve got enough muscle to tear right through them, while others’ll probably melt down an ordinary, unenchanted blade like it’s nothing. Some of the bosses are also pretty resistant to physical damage in the first place, so you’ll…”

The man continued to drone on, but despite his best efforts, he failed to spoil too much about the dungeon. His lecture was boring enough that Claire soon found herself asleep.

The boring office building was replaced by a veil of darkness with five distinct doors floating in the space around her. Three, she recognized immediately. They were the usual portals that took her to the usual places. The fourth registered its function after a few moments of staring—it was the hatch she needed to break open for her spirit to escape her body—but the fifth remained as something of a mystery. The only thing she could tell was that it gave off a sort of foreboding pressure; whatever lay on the other side was imposing enough to crush her under the weight of its presence.

Still, after inspecting it from up close, failing to see through the lock hole, and playfully prodding it with her tail, she wrapped her tiny body around the handle and twisted it wide open.

The darkness vanished as the door sucked her inside. Her colourless world was quickly transformed into a canvas of yellow, pink, orange, and blue. She couldn’t tell if the sun was setting or rising, but whatever the case, it was barely over the horizon, dyeing the clouds in its vibrant colours.

She was far enough from the planet’s surface that they only dotted half her vision—everything at eye level and above was more space than sky—and even then, the individual blobs were impossibly difficult to make out. Still, together, they formed a veil that heavily obscured the world below. She could barely see the ocean. It was so far away that it completely lost its glimmer. The roaring waves were completely invisible, even with her telescopic eyes operating at their maximum output.

The few bits and pieces that she did see quickly revealed that the world was not the one she knew. Too many islands dotted the oceans and the continents were clearly misshapen. Though she only barely recalled the specifics, she could tell that they looked nothing like the ones she had spotted when Griselda took her above the clouds. The average continent size was another one of the most prominent differentiators. There were no large pieces of land, like there were on Mara, only small chunks that floated near the planet’s equator. The poles were entirely empty, devoid of anything but sea. That much, she could say for certain after doing two full loops around its core.

Further denying the world’s identity was the giant creature that occasionally poked its head out from the seas. The grand serpent was far taller than even the most impressive mountains, and its jagged teeth were so massive that they put some countries to shame. She began to doubt her eyes when she finally found the rest of its body. Its tailfin alone was enough to eclipse a continent. It almost didn't seem possible for such a creature to fit in the ocean to begin with.

Only when she was done marveling at its presence did she take a deep breath and ascend to the structure with which she shared the sky. Though suspended in the air like a Cadrian warship, it was without any shared features. It was but a single tiny building, sitting on a cloud far above any other. There was no garden, no courtyard, no castle. Just a humble abode.

She had to climb further to reach it. The sky turned dark. The planet shrank to the size of a bean. And yet, she saw fire flickering in the window. The shadows danced against the cosmic background, present only in and around the tiny stone hut.

Gulping, Claire approached the front door and lightly rapped her claws against it. The knock was practically inaudible, overshadowed by the crackling of flame. And yet, a clear voice rang from within.

“Enter.”

The door slid open, guided by a vector not of Claire’s making. Its movement revealed a cozy little space that resembled a kitchen, a bedroom, and a living room all at once. A bird woman—the building’s only occupant—blew a burning breath into the cauldron as she stirred it with the ladle between her talons. A burst of steam erupted from the pot and, with it, a pleasant, herbal scent.

“Take a seat.”

Claire planted herself on the cushion sitting atop the table. For a little while, that was where she remained, observing curiously as the homeowner continued to work on her pot. She was effectively a harpy. Her arms were wings and her feet were talons, albeit of a different sort than Claire’s. As far as technicalities went, her upper body was completely exposed; anyone capable of remaining unblinded in the face of her fiery figure could see the precise size and shape of her breasts. Her lower half was made slightly more decent. The ashborn feathers that sprouted from her avian parts obscured the sightlines of any would-be onlookers and guarded her divine decency.

Her body was not wreathed in fire, but made of it. The source of the flickering light.

“You’re Allegra’s student. The one that she raised like a daughter.”

“Raised is a strong word.”

“Yes, and I meant it.”

The bird assumed a less humanoid form upon joining Claire at the table. Shrinking down to a similar size, she turned into an unfamiliar bird. Though certainly a true apex predator, she looked neither like a hawk nor an eagle. If anything, her shape was a little closer to that of a heron, featuring long legs, a wide wingspan, and a long, jagged mouthpiece.

“Allegra was one of my brightest disciples, and one of the few never swayed by Vella’s charm.”

“What charm?”

The bird broke into a fit of laughter. Fire erupted from her body with every snort and giggle, and her plumage, which started as a mix of yellows and reds, turned a vibrant white. The flames were so burning hot that the table began to melt; the stone used in its construction was reduced to nothing but puddles of magma, only to reform again after a brief delay.

“I’ve always wondered the exact same thing. All your countrymen seem to love her, even though she leads them astray.”

Claire nodded. “Most of them are idiots.”

“Most people are,” said the bird, “regardless of the state of their mortality.” The cauldron drifted over to the table as she spoke. It was accompanied by a pair of tiny cups, both of which were taken off the shelves by the goddess’ vectors. The same magical forces ladled them full of tea and escorted them to the table. Claire’s cup was set down in front of her, while the bird’s was brought straight to her beak.

It seemed rude and awkward to simply sit around, so Claire followed the phoenix's lead and lifted her drink in her tiny arms. The contents were light amber, and the flavour was almost identical to one of the blends she recalled from Rubia’s memories.

“Chrysanthemum and peppermint,” said Claire.

The goddess smiled—despite her avian visage, it was easy to read her expression—but she didn’t say anything else until she finished her drink.

“My original plan was to observe from arm’s length, as I always have. I never thought that there was any point in evaluating your performance. I know exactly what you can and can’t do. Because I see everything that happens beneath the sky.” She magically pulled another cup from the pot and floated it in the space beside her. “But I changed my mind when you crossed into my domain.”

“Why?”

“Because you are one of Allegra’s. And I can’t leave you in the state you’re in.” The goddess took a sip from her cup and blew a tuft of flame. The tiny fireball floated across the table, fizzling out as it drew closer to the lyrkress’ body. “That didn't even feel hot to you, did it?”

Claire shook her head. The flame had dissipated before it reached her, but she doubted she would've felt it, even if it hadn't. It had only been backed by the faintest hint of magic.

“That spell’s heat had nothing to do with magic, divinity, or even your elevated resistance. You would have felt its heat so long as the conditions were met.” The bird—Rikael, goddess of the sun—raised her cup to her beak again. “Fire is the element of passion. And you are running on nothing but ash and smolder.”

“I don’t see how,” said Claire.

“No, but I do. And with this, so can you.” A fire manifested in the space between them. A tiny, flickering flame as transient as a candle’s light. “Tell me, Claire Augustus, why do you continue on this arduous path? What would bring you joy, happiness beyond all else? What is your greatest burning desire?”

“To kill every Pollux.”

For a moment, the fire flickered. It almost seemed to explode as it turned from a matchlight to something closer to the size of a fist. But it shrank as quickly as it grew. Before long, it was back to its original size.

“Try again.”

“To overcome my father.” There was another burst. It was greater than the last, coming closer to the size of a soup bowl. Still, it wrinkled all the same.

“Again.”

“To grow stronger and ascend.”

The flame didn’t even move.

“One more time.”

Claire eyed the ember, but went without a verbal response. There was nothing she could think of that outstripped her wish to outdo her father.

“You see? You have no true passion. There is nothing that you can think of that whips your heart into frenzy. You are nothing but a cold, empty shell, burdening yourself with the guise of duty. Camaraderie is not a bad thing, and neither is taking responsibility for your actions. But to truly shine brightly, you must seek something to fervently chase, a great desire that will never cease to invigorate your spirit.” The goddess smiled. “And finding that will be my quest to you.”

Log Entry 854736
You have received a quest - Reach for the Stars

Primary Objective: Satisfy Rikael with a demonstration of passion.

Reward: A blessing from the goddess of the sun.

Rikael seemed confident, supremely so, but Claire looked over the quest with her lips twisted into a frown.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “What do you want?”

“I think it’s pretty self-evident. You show no interest in anything, the few motivations you have are based in empty hatred, and you’ve now gone two years in a row without even celebrating your birthday. It's time for that to change.”

The goddess’ intent stare was met with a dubious blink.

“I don’t see how that matters. And this year was the only one I skipped. Last year was Alfred’s fault. I didn’t even know it passed.”

“Still, you skipped it. And this year, you didn’t even tell your closest friends when it was.”

“I still don’t see how that matters.”

Rikael sighed. “Then you can start by finding out.”

A trill escaping her beak, she lightly flapped her wings and crafted a gust of wind. It was just a light breeze, but it came with a wave of nausea. The dizzy spell delayed the lyrkress’ reaction; it took her a moment to realise that she had been ejected from the heavenly home. She continued to pick up speed as she passed through the sky, the seas, and a realm of fiery crimson. And then, all of a sudden, as the planet shrank in the distance, she was placed right back in her body.

The accompanying pain drove her eyes to snap open, but like the ringing in her ears, it was only there for an instant.

“...rty’s ballistae didn’t work, even with enchanted bolts, but they’re fairly confident that they were on the right track. And that’s pretty much all the info that anyone’s been willing to part with.” The clerk yawned as he set his quill back on the table. “Any more questions?”

“Would you recommend visiting one of the merchants in town to procure our supplies?” asked Arciel.

“Nah, I wouldn’t bother. The whole area’s filled with dungeons, so you should be able to get everything you need for cheaper in Essetofte.”

“Excellent,” said Arciel. She rose from her seat with an inordinately thick pamphlet in hand. “Thank you for your time. I suspect you shall soon hear news of our achievement.”

“Good luck,” said the clerk. “I’ll be praying for you.” He rose from his seat as well, and with another yawn, made his way back into the building’s interior. All he left, before passing through the door, was a haphazard over-the-shoulder wave with one of his four hands.

“By the gods. That took fucking forever,” said Jules.

“Perhaps, but we have learned much from the discourse,” said Arciel. “Let us quickly find ourselves a meal and a place to stay the night. I would like to set out early, so that we might enter the dungeon even a moment sooner.”

“Can’t say I disagree.” A frown upon his lips, Jules practically threw himself out the door and back into the carriage. “Come on, hurry it up. I'm fucking starving.”