The Core's Origin

Before the sun had even managed to rise, Gabriel and his workers saw several of the villagers approach them, including Evon. Two men walked directly to the wagons and started checking the wheels and the undercarriages while chatting with the drivers, but Evon walked straight over to Gabriel.

“Thought this might happen, but don’t worry; we got a plan that’ll get yeh back. Yeh won’t have to stay here for the winter.” Even before offering a “good morning,” Evon was trying to reassure Gabriel.

“I wasn’t too concerned just yet. I understand that often the first snow of winter doesn’t last too long, and we don’t need too many clear days to return,” Gabriel replied.

Evon shook his head. “This snow won’t be leavin’, but don’t yeh worry. We know what we’re about. Come have some breakfast, and I’ll show yeh what we’ll do afterwards. These folk need a bit of time to do what needs doin’.”

Despite his curiosity, Gabriel followed Evon to a house. It was clear that the young man wanted to surprise the merchant, so Gabriel suppressed his questions for the moment.

They entered the largest house in the village, which Gabriel already knew belonged to Evon’s grandmother, Elicia.

The door opened to organized chaos. People were scurrying about, each to accomplish their own task, even while chatting and shouting to each other.

There were women and children preparing dried fruit and porridge in the kitchen, and men coming in and out of the door from their morning chores. Throughout it all, a handful of smaller children were chased about between legs by a toddler in the sort of game that only children understood the rules of, but their antics filled the room with the background noise of soft giggles.

Before the trader could get much of a look around, there was a bowl of porridge and dried berries in his hands, as well as some cured meat. Instead of being sent to the table, he was shooed back out the door and into the snow with Evon.

The entire affair had taken just a moment’s time, yet when Gabriel looked ahead of Evon to the wagons, there were several long, curved pieces of wood leaning against the frames while the villagers and drivers all worked together to unload the wagons and set them up on some cut logs so that the wheels were raised above the ground.

Evon flashed a grin at Gabriel and nodded his head towards the work at the wagons, gesturing for the merchant to look for himself.

Gabriel watched, the food in his hands all but forgotten, as the villagers had the wagon drivers demonstrate how to remove the wheels.

A few measurements, a couple of cranks of a hand drill, and two of the polished, curved pieces of wood were beneath the first wagon, replacing the wheels.

Still confused, Gabriel turned to look at Evon in a questioning manner. While it was clear that the wagon was supposed to glide over the snow on the new runners, the concept made little sense to the trader. Given how deep and soft the snow was, how could these blades make any difference at all? How was this supposed to be any better than the wheels?

This time, it was Evon’s turn to look slightly confused. “Have yeh never seen a sleigh before?”

“A sleigh? Is that what you call this? Won’t it get stuck in the snow?”

Evon shook his head and leaned down to point at the raised bottom of the curved runner. “We polish ‘em with beeswax, which helps ‘em glide atop the snow. Yeh’ll see in a bit, but this’ll get yeh back within the week.”

Dubious, Gabriel decided to hold back from saying anything further for until after he saw how effective, or ineffective, the runners proved.

The drivers were excited by the alterations, and while some more actively helped with trading out the wheels for runners on the other wagons, two of the men ran off to fetch the horses and quickly hitched them to the modified wagon.

To Gabriel’s delight, the animals were wearing their coats, which made them look adorable.

Just as the horses were hitched and ready to go, Gabriel was startled by an elbow gently poking his side as a hand stole the—now cold—piece of cured meat from his hand.

“Dear, what are you letting them do to our wagons?” Marta asked with an arched brow as she bit into part of Gabriel’s forgotten breakfast.

He glanced at the bowl in his hand, and saw that the porridge was not merely cold, it had started to freeze. It seemed he would be going hungry for breakfast.

With a sigh, he answered, “Evon says that these will help us get back through the snow, and we were just about to see how they work.”

His explanation was met with nothing more than a nod as Marta munched on the cold meat.

By this time, the drivers were sitting on the first wagon, broad grins on their faces as they encouraged the horses forward.

With a few puffs of steam from their nostrils, the beasts started trotting forward with surprising ease, the wagon truly gliding over the snow atop the polished runners.

The drivers laughed, and the rest of Gabriel’s men sped up with their own tasks to try out the rest of the wagons.

It only took half of the morning for all of the wagons to receive the same modifications, though it was already lunchtime when the drivers, Gabriel, and even Marta were done riding around in the wagons.

The movement was astonishingly smooth, as there were none of the bumps or jostling that always accompanied a wagon ride. With enough blankets and something to cover their ears and noses from the cold breeze, everyone was delighted by their modified transportation.

The afternoon was occupied with negotiations between Gabriel and Marta and Evon and a villager named Elburt. The villagers had no interest in the merchant’s coin, but did try to haggle for the remainder of Gabriel’s goods in exchange for the runners on the wagons and the work done to make the changes. The two men also pushed Gabriel to accept having some of the villagers travel south with the caravan as guards, claiming that the snow could push a lot of wild animals south, though they did admit that such things usually happened towards the end of winter when the beasts started to struggle with starvation.

Gabriel was happy to compensate the village for parts and labor they had contributed to his new sleighs, but he did not see any need for the guards. Besides, the people were farmers and hunters, not guards or soldiers. How much help could they provide?

Ultimately, Evon insisted that a few people join the journey south, though he said that they would be traveling with him to his home, rather than acting as an escort for the traders.

Fortunately, given the weather and the time of year, there was an immediate consensus on leaving the next morning as early as possible. Everyone wanted to avoid a second snowfall.

Just as planned, the caravan moved out the next morning. Of everything that Gabriel had taken to the north, he only had a few instruments remaining. Instead, he had loaded up with local goods, and was carrying wine, mead, beer, and furs to the south.

Even more importantly than all of that, they also carried the wagon wheels for when they arrived south.

There had been offers to trade cured meat, but there was little market for such things in the capital, so the offers had been gently refused.

Unfortunately, the novelty of riding in a sleigh and gliding over the snow quickly vanished. It was true that the ride was smooth, but the wind was cold and biting, and no matter how they tried to protect themselves from the cold, every member of the caravan felt their hands, feet, ears, and noses being frozen by the harsh northern chill.

Furs and blankets helped alleviate a bit of the cold, but there was no way to avoid at least partial exposure to the air, and that was enough for the cold to get in.

Even worse was night time. It was easy to build roaring fires in the forests, but they could not chase the cold away, and none of the bedrolls were thick enough to keep people warm.

Gabriel and Marta were lucky, as they shared a bed, but two of the drivers had to have toes or fingers removed due to something called frostbite. The northerners fought long and hard, insisting on removing the digits, despite the adamant protests of the people in the caravan.

By the third day of the trip, there was almost no one speaking. Everyone in the caravan was struggling to endure, though the northerners all seemed surprisingly chipper and comfortable, though luckily, most of them were rather quiet individuals. It was either that or they at least had enough awareness of the general mood in the caravan to keep quiet.

On the fifth night, disaster struck. They had already passed through two villages, and the nights in doors had been a well needed respite, but on the morning of the sixth day, three of the caravan drivers did not wake up.

The sight of their frozen forms disturbed everyone in the caravan, and even the northerners seemed subdued by the sight.

By this time, Gabriel had already pulled out all of the furs that he had acquired in the northern villages, but they were clearly insufficient.

Two of the wagons had only a single driver, instead of the pairs that Gabriel always employed for safety. While the two wagons with one driver were placed in the middle of the caravan, the tailing wagon was nowhere to be seen when they made camp for the night.

This incident seemed to finally disturb the northerners, and Gabriel caught sight of Evon animatedly speaking to a woman in the group before she walked away and headed back up the trail.

Gabriel went to speak to Evon and find out what was happening, but when a driver passed by between them, the brief time that Gabriel’s sight was blocked somehow allowed Evon to disappear.

When Gabriel finally found the young man, he was on the opposite side of the camp, speaking with several people and preparing more wood for the fire to burn overnight.

By that time, Gabriel had already gotten distracted. Marta was not handling the cold well, and he was very worried about her. She struggled more than ever to wake up in the mornings, and one time, she had even complained about feeling too warm and had tried to remove some of the blankets which covered her.

The traders had been warned about the signs of the cold taking over, and Gabriel saw those symptoms in Marta’s behavior.

He was anxious and preoccupied, and that left him easily distracted. It could only be expected that Gabriel forgot about the young woman who had left the rest of the caravan, and it was also perfectly natural for him to have missed seeing when the young woman had returned.

However, the ensuing commotion grew to the point that it succeeded in breaking through Gabriel’s distraction and draw his notice

After making sure that Marta was as warm as he could make her for the moment, Gabriel trudged through the snow to where the northerners were arguing.

“...doomed without help. We need to get them somewhere warm, and you know what that means out here!”

“Hera, no! We can’t do that, and yeh don’t have the right to try to force it! Yeh know the rules, and we’re stickin’ to ‘em!”

Gabriel only caught a snippet of the argument, but clearly something was wrong, but the only path to safety was closed to them. “What’s going on? Why are we doomed?”

“You’re not-”

“Blizzard’s comin’.”

Both Evon and the young woman answered at the same time, and they both cut off in unison to glare at each other.

Gabriel turned the unfamiliar word over in his head. “What’s a blizzard?”

That got a reaction from both of the young people, who turned and gaped at Gabriel in disbelief.

“Blizzard’s like a frozen maelstrom. Think that’s what they call ‘em back where yeh’re from.”

An older voice answered Gabriel from behind, and he turned to see a middle-aged man with brilliant green eyes staring at him with an unusual intensity. Before the merchant could say anything, the man was past him, approaching Evon and the young woman. “Pack up. We’re takin’ ‘em. ‘Era’s right. They’re under our protection, so we protect ‘em. Simple as that, Evon.”

The two young people turned around and started directing the other northerners and the drivers, directing the sleighs off the road and into the woods.

Gabriel expected the stranger to turn around and say something further, but the green-eyed man just silently disappeared into the underbrush of the forest.

Unsure of what else he could do, Gabriel turned back to his own modified wagon, to guide it after their northern guides.

Only once he was directing the horses into the woods and around trees did Gabriel notice that there was not a single footprint in the snow from the green-eyed man.

***

Hera had spent years delving into the handful of dungeons the northerners had found, training with Burt, her cousins, and others. They had gathered many, many treasures from hunting in the dungeons, some of which they had used themselves, but a great number of which they had no use for. Things had accumulated and started to gather dust. They had been needing to find some means of distributing or disposing of the items, but had not found any reasonable manner of doing so yet.

Shortly after Hera’s first trip into the dungeon, things had started to change in the north. Burt had come back one day with a tail, green eyes, and fuzzy black ears like a cat. He had also revealed new strength, speed, hearing, sense of smell, and more. After that, animalistic features had started to appear among more and more of the northerners.

The patterns were interesting, because for years, the alterations only appeared in those who ventured into the dungeons, or in the newborn babies.

As years had passed, it had also become clear that the physical alterations from the dungeon went beyond what people could see. Other than his baldness, there was no sign whatsoever of Burt’s advancing age. He remained faster, stronger, and more resistant to sickness than anyone else, and no matter how hard Hera pushed herself, she was never able to catch up to her adoptive father.

The man still refused to tell Hera or any of her cousins his level, let alone any of the others they had started leading into the dungeons.

Every year, Burt, Hera, Edgar, Elburt, and Evon would lead more people into the dungeons, most of whom were youths at the cusp of adulthood. Even a few gains from the dungeon would grant people permanent benefits, and the increased strength and health had allowed the villages to thrive, despite Farun’s defeat and the empire’s occupation.

They were doing the same thing again, though instead of taking youths into the dungeon, they were taking a merchant and his wife and their workers. However, this trip had an entirely different purpose than any of their previous excursions.

Given their location, the nearest dungeon was not a frozen wasteland like the dungeon that was closest to the village, but a more recently discovered one that lay behind a waterfall. It had a much more pleasant temperature, and Hera preferred the various waterlands to the ice and snow of the other dungeon, despite the fact that there was ever-present mud.

The northerners walked through the snow, some relying on their improved strength to push through, others using skills to traverse over the snow.

They soon arrived at a stream, and Hera ignored the others in the group so that she could focus on her footing, as she did not want to fall into the frigid water. There would be enough of that soon, but at least it would be a bit warmer.

As they arrived at the waterfall, everyone got down from the sleighs, carrying whatever blankets and furs they could while unhitching the horses and securing the sleighs. Given their location, there was no need to worry about anyone stealing anything.

Hera looked around for Burt, but failed to find him anywhere.

As her eyes passed over the frozen surroundings a second time, she caught him stepping out from a shadowed cleft in the stone wall. She looked closer, but it was clear that the fissure only went about half a hand into the cliff, and was merely half of that in width. What sort of ability had Burt picked up this time?

Hera’s father approached, and the group gathered in a small area in front of the dungeon. Burt’s eyes were locked onto the merchant, and addressed only him. “We’re ‘bout to enter a dungeon. I’m sure yeh know what those are, so stick close ‘n we’ll keep yeh safe. It’s warmer in there, so we’ll wait out the storm.”

Instead of disappearing again, Burt looked at Hera and flicked his eyes to tell her to scout ahead.

Unlike Burt, Hera had managed to acquire magic from the dungeons, even if it had taken a few years to happen.

She stepped forward and passed through the tunnel to enter the first level of the dungeon, which was a reed-filled marsh. As soon as she entered, she closed her eyes and released her magic.

Hera was not able to use any of her spells to attack, but she felt that what she could do was even better.

After a few moments, birds started to gather around her, followed by fish, and then finally, four-legged creatures. Hera refused to summon snakes, so none of them appeared.

As she reached out and touched each animal, establishing a connection with it, Hera gained control of them. She could direct the animals wherever she wished, and even use their senses to scout out an area.

Even if this was only the first level of the dungeon, Hera was too well trained to slack off, and she intended to see where absolutely everything in this first level lay.

The animals scattered, and as Hera started getting feedback from them, she quickly stripped down and stored all of her belongings in her pack. She then used her most recent spell and transformed into a bear, as the form allowed her to move more quickly through the marsh. The thick fur also protected her from most of the bugs and thorns that plagued the level.

She knew that Burt or Evon would grab her pack for her, so there was no fear in leaving it behind.

She still remembered how upset she had been the first time she had used the transformation spell and had destroyed her favorite armor, tearing each and every seam in the sturdy leather.

Burt had literally fallen over due to how hard he had laughed at the sight, which had only soured the situation further in Hera’s perspective.

Birds, fish, and small mammals subtly showed the path forward to Burt, Evon, and the others in the group, and they walked to the level’s exit without hindrance.

By the time everyone arrived, the guardian of the level was already defeated. Burt had sneaked ahead and dealt with it without anyone noticing.

With Burt’s presence, their goal was the fifth level of the dungeon. This was the first dungeon they had discovered which possessed a small, peaceful level of the dungeon that had no monsters, but did have water, fruit, and edible plants available. It seemed to be a rest area for delvers who spent longer periods in the dungeon, and it would give the entire group a safe place to stay until it was safe to continue traveling.

Even with ordinary people, such as Gabriel and Marta, there would be no difficulty in getting everyone to the fifth level of the dungeon. Hera could reach that level on her own without too much difficulty, and with a full team, there would not be any danger.

Besides any of that, they were traveling with Burt, who seemed to be curious about the merchant and his wife. Burt was more than capable of handling the dungeon on his own and leaving the others to simply stroll through the dungeon in peace.

What continued to frustrate Hera was the fact that no matter if she transformed into her bear form or used the senses of the beasts she connected with, she could never sense Burt’s presence or any sign of his passing, unless he made a point of exposing himself.

The man seemed to revel in tormenting others when they were in dungeons.

The group continued deeper and deeper, their pace never increasing or slowing in the slightest bit. They waltzed across the moving maze through march, where the trail constantly moved due to the roaming turtles upon whose backs carried the earth and plants that rose above the water.

They enjoyed the scenery in the level that was filled with cascades, gorges, and caverns. It was the most stunning location Hera had ever seen, inside a dungeon or out. The light from above was constantly reflected off of the waterfalls and flowing streams that rarely slowed anywhere in the level. The light moved with the water, rippling and shimmering as it painted rainbows in the air and on every surface that did not have greenery draping it.

Further down, they raced through the most unpleasant level, which was filled with hot springs that stunk of rotten eggs. It was filled with a disorienting mist that seemed to have some sort of mildly toxic substance in it that had a disorienting effect.

They only hurried to get away from the smell, as aside from Hera and, presumably Burt, no one else had seen a single monster in the dungeon. During the uniquely peaceful descent, Hera noticed for the first time just how beautiful dungeons could be when they were not trying to kill her.

Finally, they reached the fifth level, and everyone was able to lower their guards and relax. Camp was made, and people settled in, not knowing how long they would be stuck in the dungeon to survive the storm outside.

As soon as everyone was settled in and some food was being prepared, Burt crouched down across from Gabriel. “So, we’re gonna be ‘ere fer a bit, so we should probably make use of it.”

As the merchant stared at the tail flitting back and forth behind the man and the furry black ears on his bald head, he barely noticed the knife tossed to the ground in front of him.

“Yeh want to know ‘bout us? Yeh gotta become one of us.”