Dungeon Runner
The Tiger Writes
sciencefiction
sciencefiction
31K5
Tibs survived by picking pockets; until he's caught.
Instead of losing a hand, he's sent away and told he must now survive a dungeon.
How is a kid who knew nothing more than his ...Bottom Rung, Chapter 12
The adventurer led Tibs to the largest of the recently finished buildings, keeping a firm hand on his arm after noticing he'd begun trailing. Tibs had tried to act as if his injuries were the cause, but the adventurer hadn't cared.
Inside the building's door, he waved down another adventurer. "He needs to see Tirania. He passed the first test."
She looked Tibs over. "You sure? He looks young."
The man offered Tibs the crystal, and he just looked at it. He'd wanted to lose himself in locks and traps, stop thinking for the rest of the morning at least. He'd wanted to be alone.
With a curse, the man grabbed Tibs's hand and put the crystal in it. He let go as it began glowing and Tibs let his hand drop, the crystal bouncing on the wooden floor.
"Maybe he should come back later," the woman said. "He doesn't look in a state to speak with the guild leader."
"Hey, my orders are that anyone who makes the crystal glow is brought to see her. You want to send him out and have to look for him later, that's your decision. If you want them to be less traumatized, maybe you should change the orders." The man gave Tibs a light shove in her direction and walked out of the building.
Tibs steadied himself before running into her and remained there.
She let out a sigh. "I can't wait for the real guards to get here." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "But he does have a point. If we waited for you to come back on your own, you'd probably die before that happened." She was more gentle with her directions, but she led Tibs deeper into the building and up stairs until they stood by a door on which she knocked.
"Enter."
They stepped into a large room and a woman with black hair sat behind a desk, looking up from a stack of papers. Because her hair was braided and over her shoulder, instead of loose, it took a few seconds to recognize her, even with her strange eyes. She was the woman who had spoken to all the rogues on the first day, she was the one who'd given them the title of rogue.
"He graduated, Ma'am."
Tirania smiled. "Another one, good." She motioned to the chair, and when Tibs didn't move, his escort guided him to it.
"I'm afraid he's a little out of sorts," his escort said. "The Downgraded that brought him suggested that it might be better if we give them some time to recuperate for their exploration before bringing them to you."
Tirania waved the suggestion aside. "We're forming adventurers, not scholars. If they survive, they'll learn to deal with it. You can leave."
The door closed, and the woman settled her strangely colored eyes on him. Tibs tried to figure out what colors they were, and he saw that they shifted as if the position of her eyes and head affected which set of colors were visible.
She moved and reflexively he shifted his gaze as she pulled a small vial from a drawer and offered it to him. The liquid was gray and shimmered slightly. He took it and removed the stopper, sniffing the content. It didn't have a scent.
"It's a healing potion," she said. "You don't look in that bad of a shape, but it'll also calm your nerves."
Tibs looked at it again. It was nothing like those he got at the training grounds. The liquid in those tended more toward green than gray, and the vials were larger. He considered putting the stopper back on and returning it, but if she wanted him poisoned, they were working too hard at it.
He prepared himself for the tastes and downed the content quickly. Instead of tasting like it should be poison, it was sweet. The tastes didn't stay on his tongue long, but while it was there, it reminded him of the one time he'd stolen an orange, but without the bad taste of the peel.