Saga of the Soul Dungeon

“Love knows not distance; it hath no continent; its eyes are for the stars.”

-Gilbert Parker

“How far away the stars seem, and how far is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart.”

-William Butler Yeats

==Zidaun==

We made it through the hallway and the new transportation system the dungeon had added in. We did a quick check of the other doors we could access and they had all been changed too. If the portals weren’t in a safe zone, I would have been more reluctant to trust them at all. As it was, I carefully tossed some objects between the rings of emblems embedded into the wall.

The amount of folerth in the walls made me want to shake my head. I was certain at least a few idiots were going to get themselves killed trying to retrieve it. Anyone stupid enough to mess with an active emblem deserved the death that would almost inevitably follow. That was especially true when that emblem was part of a portal. Most emblem specialists put special precautions to strengthen and protect any emblem in an accessible location. That wasn’t to protect wandering idiots, but instead provent the emblem from suffering damage. Idiots were an iron bit a dozen; folerth and emblem specialists were valuable.

We had only given the dungeon a single messenger capsule; it was only a little bit of time ago, at that. Had it developed portals from that? If so, it was truly monstrous. A smile flickered at the edge of my mouth as worshipful thoughts moved through my mind. It was proving to be a worthy god indeed.

After our longer than expected diversion we emerged back into the grotto.

We trudged over the stone, the unforgiving floor pushing back hard against our weary steps. Our footfalls were swallowed by the darkness, the sound fading into nothing. We were tired, not in body, but in spirit. The others were quieter than usual. I presumed they were contemplating the revelations I had offered. For myself, the emotional whiplash had been more than sufficient.

I was lost in my own thoughts when I felt a wave of mana sweep through the room.

“Mana is moving,” I said.

A moment later, I didn’t bother to elaborate, because the effect was obvious. The Grotto had always carried the facsimile of a night sky. It might lack Yamash, but otherwise the stars were recreated with a certain degree of fidelity. There is, however, a substantial difference between a good approximation and perfection.

And now, it was perfect.

The sky rippled as the perfect blackness between points of light slowly gave way to the true deep blue-black of the night. Stars twinkled with light, and each shade grew more natural, producing infinitesimal variations.

Wind blew through the cavern, the deep darkness remaining, but subtly lightened by the ambient light of the heavens. The wind was brisk, and it carried the scents of far off greenery. The faint perfume of distance blooms perfumed the air. The shifting of the wind felt natural, each breeze slightly different in direction or intensity, interspersed with the occasional moment of calm.

Whereas the atmosphere of the Grotto before had been beautiful, but unnatural, now it carried the peace of a brisk Thaw night. The darkness was no longer faintly stifling, lifting an unnoticed weight off my shoulders.

“That was unexpected,” I said, my voice light.

“More art, huh?” Gurek muttered.

“Looks like it,” Inda said, her voice bemused. “This place really is different.”

Firi’s gaze still lay on the heavens as he spoke. “I wonder why it doesn’t have Yamash?”

I frowned, “I’m not sure. Maybe it was too difficult to make that part of the illusion. Or maybe excluding them makes it clear that it is an illusion. Not that we would forget, but new people might not realize when they first enter.”

“You’ll be here,” Firi said, his voice soft, “under this sky, in the various fake environments, seeing to your people? Will you get to see the real thing often, or ever?”

I cleared my throat.

“Not here, let’s talk back at the base,” I said.

We didn’t hurry, our footsteps carried us forward slowly over the bare stone. The columnar lights to the side of the path contrasted against the new sky. Each of us enjoyed the silent starry splendor in our own way.

Firi and I took some time to ourselves in one of the lounge areas downstairs. The windows were open, the shutters pushed outward and the curtains fluttering gently in the occasional breeze. Each of us faced the other, our chairs close. Our hands reached out to touch.

“As the leader here, I don’t expect to get outside all that often,” I said. “Usually, how much an Ancient, our title for the leader, manages to get outside is directly proportional to how deep the dungeon is buried. This dungeon is buried quite deep indeed. I might be called on to deal with the inevitable settlements that will form around the dungeon’s entrances, but that will just be at first.”

I looked out the window. My heart was heavy, even as I feel gratitude.

“I didn’t expect even this much,” I said. “I’m honestly glad to have it. This is as close to a real sky as I could hope for. And the dungeon is massive. We already found a section of wilderness, just in the first area. Not every area will be as nice.”

“Like the sewers,” Firi muttered, his eyebrows lifted with a grimacing smile.

“Ha, yeah. Even those were beautiful though, at least after we got past the beginning.” I said, letting my thoughts return to the verdant splendor that abounded even there. “I’m sure more wild areas will show up. And, when I’m not actually delving, I can probably get the monsters to ignore me. There are sure to be even more wonderful places. I am luckier with this dungeon than I had any right to expect.”

“Why does it have to be you?” he said, looking at me earnestly. His hands squeezed around my hands gently. “You don’t need to stay. Stick around a bit, then when your people show up tell them what you know. Stick around longer and delve with us if you want… but only if you want to. Someone else can be the Ancient. I know you have your duty, but why does it mean all of your life is sacrificed? There is more to life. I… can put everything else aside though. If you want me to, I will stay with you.”

My heart broke, just a little. His eyes were tender as he gazed at me for a moment, before they dropped toward the floor, looking away and his face tilting down. My own eyes grew watery, my throat thick.

“I…” My voice broke a little and I cleared my throat. “I would like that, very much.”

His face rose in hope, a fragile smile outlining the shine of his eyes with gentle wrinkles. Much as I wanted to kiss that smile, I hurried to interrupt him.

“However. However, I can’t promise anything. I have my duty to my people and my god. Faith is what drives me. It compels me. My people come first. I... came here first. I made the first connection. You saw how it transformed me. That is sacred.

“It might be possible for us to be together, though.”

Normally I wouldn’t be able to even hope for that. I was sure that Gurek could understand why faith moved me. His own dedication to Shurum had influenced his class. Now though, my faith, which burned inside me like a constant fire, might not conflict with what I wanted for myself. A normal dungeon wouldn’t care, or make any allowances. Most wouldn’t understand my feelings at all. Caden might though. He understood people better than I would have ever believed. Exsan seemed like a normal dungeon, so I had no idea how that would affect things.

“It all comes down to what the dungeon wants,” I said softly. “Normally they would prioritize duty, but Caden might understand.”

“I can’t say I have ever understood why you worship dungeons,” Firi said, one side of his lips twisted into a smirk, “but I will be happy enough to offer some prayers to this one. It would be a small price to pay for something as divine as you.”

Firi blushed from his own words, and soon words were soon lost to kisses. Each of us breathlessly panted into the cold air beneath the slowly moving stars.

==Caden==

Most skills provided some knowledge when they leveled up, but Environmental Immersion was proving to be the first skill that provided situational knowledge. If I gained a level in anything else I might get the equivalent of muscle memory, techniques, symbols and meanings, etc… I was still working through what I had gained by learning Metallurgy.

Environmental Immersion was giving me knowledge as I needed it. It started when I applied it to the Starlight Grotto. I suddenly knew how to improve the impression of a night sky. I knew how to alter the randomization to produce a more natural breeze and how to synthesize tiny random fragments of air to place smells onto the wind. I knew to change the color of the sky away from the pure blackness into the tiniest bit of light to replicate the feeling of the night.

All this and more flowed through my head. I had the feeling that there were even more tiny details buried beneath the surface. My ability to implement changes would no doubt improve as I gained levels in the skill.

And, once I had gone as far as the skill would take me, I pushed further and an illusion imposed itself over my own work. The skill streamlined everything I had added and incorporated its own power. The sky, formerly frozen forever, began to turn producing a slowly shifting kaleidoscope of stars, replicating the normal turning of the heavens. Though here, in the Starlight Grotto, the sun would never rise.

The Meadow gave me far more information. Apparently, I didn’t know much about soil depths, drainage patterns, or where different soil types were appropriate. Shifting those around only took time. Adding in new animals and insects from my substantially enlarged collection was easy enough as well. The skill also directed me in painting distant mountains and clouds upon the walls of the cave. I could feel it as the skill interfaced with my new artistic skill to produce better results. When I had gone as far as I could, I pushed again, shifting the static images into a living environment.

I repeated this for each environment I had created. Each one was refined and then overlaid with an illusion to make them more than I was capable of making on my own.

I had already worked hard to make each area feel real, and that was reflected by the skill. From the beginning, I could feel the illusion waiting if I pushed. However, I could also tell that the illusion would be better the closer the environment already was to what I wanted. I wasn’t entirely sure what better meant, in this case, but I had plenty of mana stored away, so shifting some pieces around wasn’t something that worried me very much.

There was something peaceful about the process of creation. Plus, I was actually learning a lot. I learned the types of soils various types of trees preferred to grow in. How close they usually were to their neighbors, whether they formed groves with entangled roots or stood alone with roots protruding deep into the earth to serve as an anchor. I learned about weather patterns and incorporated them into how my environments functions. The temperature, precipitation, and other weather of each area was now properly set up; rain would fall, and wind would blow.

There was no proper change between day and night in any of my areas… yet. I had a good idea for how I could implement that, but I didn’t actually want every area to have a day and night cycle. The Wandering Woods, for example, would always be some variation, but static, depending on what section you were in. My underground areas were not necessarily exposed to daylight patterns at all, though some had shafts of light radiating down from the “surface.”

I had a feeling that implementing larger changes, like days and nights, was exactly how I would level up the skill in the future. I suppose that was true of any skill I had. The way to make progress was to go beyond what I could already do easily, and try new things.