Primal Dawn

“That didn’t go very well,” Fira said glumly as they traveled through the forest.

“It could have gone much worse,” Peter remarked.

Fira sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” Per Peter’s request, the group walked in silence the rest of the way to the row of locations where the Dungeon might appear.

“Wow, what luck!” Erst exclaimed. The purple scar was there. On their first try no less, and not even a full day since they’d conquered it. Well, Kaze had been the one to conquer it. That fact made Peter twist. Kaze had all but cleared the Dungeon and then been killed right before reaching his rewards. What a terrible thing. It was all terrible, really. 

Peter let out a deep sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Is something wrong?” Gaia asked, sounding worried.

“No, I… I’m fine.” Better to just enter the Dungeon - keep his mind off things. Peter glanced backward - no sign of Topaz. There wasn’t much that could be said out here. But once inside the Dungeon they would be safe to speak.

“Come on,” Peter motioned. He grasped Gaia and Kalista’s hand as he usually did, but a third gripped his elbow, coming between him and Gaia. Fira averted her eyes when Peter looked at her. It was only a curious look - he didn’t mind the gesture. All four of them stepped through the portal.

Different from the previous Dungeons, there was no feeling of floating through space. Instead, Peter was instantly greeted with a pitch darkness that seemed to dull all the senses. Indeed, the only thing that it seemed he was aware of was that time was not truly frozen. He could not move his hands, nor turn his neck. All alone, feeling trapped as if in a stone.

A moment later, the world fell into place. The first thing he did was wiggle his fingers, and his heart immediately sank. Empty. He spun round and round. Surrounded on three sides by a wall, a narrow passage right before him. No Kalista. No Gaia. No Fira. Not even Erst or any of his primals.

Just Peter. Alone.

“Kalista?” Peter shouted. “Gaia? Fira?” The words seemed to echo down the halls, searching for his primals. A dreadful thought occurred to him, and his heart began to race as did his breathing. But touching his chest he quickly realized the bonds he carried were not yet severed. They were here… somewhere.

He began to walk down the passage, occasionally glancing back toward the direction he’d arrived. Peter suddenly recalled what Levi had done. Placing his right hand on the wall, it slid against the rock as he gradually made his way toward the end.

A fork, going both left and right. This was already beginning to feel tiresome. Peter focused inward and reached out towards his bonded. He could sense Kalista and Gaia in opposite directions, but where was…?

Ah. So caught up in the charade, he sometimes forgets Fira is not bonded. As he was about to head to the left toward Kalista, who appeared to be closer, Peter heard a faint shout, “‘Flamethrower!” coming from the right side.

Immediately he begins to run in the shout’s direction. “Fira?!” Peter yelled as he ran.

“Fire Wall!” Peter reached the end and turned left. Another end, right. “Flamethrower!” He had gone in the wrong direction and backtracked toward the left. Only to reach a dead end. “Flamethrower!” Peter was running as fast as he could. She was so far now he could scarcely hear her voice, and his sense of direction was completely gone. He might have checked the same hallway a few times by now, he wasn’t sure. As he spun around in place trying to find a path he’d overlooked, he spotted a furry figure sprinting through an intersection.

“Flamethro-aaah!” 

“Rooaar!”

Peter emerged in time to see Fira knocked to the ground, covering her bleeding stomach. Laying in a different intersection, it was clear she had been fighting a battle on nearly all sides as blue dust sparkled everywhere.

The feral, now clearly a Frentus, was standing above her posing for its next strike.

“Aaaah!” Peter yelled as he charged forward. The sum of his experience with fighting a sword was watching Kalista swing hers. He was reminded of when the lightning feral had ambushed their group - the narrow hallway forcing Kalista to stab. Perhaps with his shorter sword he could afford to slash, but he wouldn’t test that right now.

The Frentus took notice of him and abandoned Fira, the two now quickly running toward each other. Peter lunged with his weapon - the Frentus ducked to avoid and swung with an uppercut. The sharp claws seemingly grazed off his armor, but at the tail end of the arc she caught Peter’s chin.

Peter hissed in pain as he reeled the sword backward, catching the shoulder of the Frentus. The surprised feral yelped and retreated back, shaking angrily with its limp arm. She used her working hand to lift the other to her face and began to lick her wrist. A green aura began to grow around her. Lick Wounds.

Peter was all too glad to provide the feral with more to heal. “Aaaah!” He yelled again.

The Frentus stopped its healing, though its arm still hung like a noodle, it seemed to regain some usage, and steeled itself for Peter’s attack.

“Flamethrower!” A barrage of flame struck the Frentus from the back, and the furry body momentarily caught fire. It was as much of a shock for the feral as it was for Peter, who crouched to avoid some of the fire spilling past her. The feral clawed and patted its fur, and began to roll against the wall of the passage.

Peter regained his confidence and hurried towards it. “Hyaah!” He shouted as he stabbed, sword piercing through breast but not enough to reach the heart. The Frentus let out a scream. Peter pulled his sword a short distance back then pushed inwards. He could feel as the fleshy resistance he’d felt before gave way as the sword dug deeper. The Frentus grasped the blade of his weapon with both hands, cutting her fingers on its edges. Peter pulled back preparing to stab again, but the feral practically slid off his sword and crumpled to the floor, beginning to turn to blue dust.

Seeing it defeated, Peter ran over to Fira. “Are you alright?”

Fira looked toward the other passages. “Y-yeah,” her voice betrays her words. He offered her a hand which she accepted. She ran her fingers over the bleeding gashes, smearing blood on her hip. “There were so many, and all at once…”

“Why were you fighting in the intersection? That let them surround you,” Peter questioned while slinging his backpack to the ground.

“Humph. I was already surrounded before I got to the intersection.” She worriedly clutched her stomach, the bleeding gradually intensifying. “We… we have to find Gaia.”

“Right. And the others, too. Here,” Peter pulled out a red potion and offered it to Fira.

Fira stared at his outstretched hand, confused. “But… A potion… I’ve only just started repaying the favors I owed you, I can’t afford to-”

“Fira, don’t be stupid. Just drink the damned thing and consider it a gift. We have to find the others.” Fira grabbed the bottle, but still hesitated.

“You’re sure?”

Peter raised an eyebrow, “Yes. Drink it, or you might drown when I force it down your throat.”

Fira looked at him puzzledly before gulping the contents of the potion. Instantly, the wounds on her stomach began to recover and the bleeding soon stopped. Wiping her lips with her wrist, she awkwardly handed the empty bottle back to Peter and pursed her lips. “Thanks.”

Peter nodded. “Gaia’s closest, let’s go find her.”