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 21
Tibs opened his eyes with a gasp, but didn't immediately see his teacher, he was still focused on what he now felt. The void was still there, but his essence no longer 'flowed' over it. His reserve was a layer, thin, but unmoving. He focused his gaze down on his hand and coated it with a sheen of water. He sensed his reserve diminish, the layer become so thin as to be non existent. He stopped. He brought the water to his palm, made it into a ball—more of a marble—made it into ice, and threw it to the side.
He felt the loss of his essence, but not the accompanying exhaustion. It was more wariness warning him he shouldn't do this again until his reserve replenished itself. But now he could stand if he wanted, walk around, run, even fight. The tiredness hadn't been physical, it was... essencial?
"I see you understand," Alistair said.
Tibs snorted. "It still makes no sense, but I do understand that doesn't matter; it's how this works. I also 'see' how much essence I have; I don't have much."
"I suspected that was the core of your issue. Because of how arduous getting to the point of graduating is, only older people normally attempt it, even outside of the dungeons. We've never studied if there's a minimum age at which it can't happen, you seem to indicate there is, or at least that below a certain age having essence is more difficult."
Alistair was wrong. Tibs didn't know if there was a minimum age, but he wasn't indicative of that. He felt the void 'below' his reserve. He couldn't tell how large it was, but it was substantially vaster than that of his essence. This was because of the choice he'd made, part of the cost he was paying. It was also a reminder he needed to find a way to get an audience with one of the other elements.
"We still have a little time before we have to return," Alistair said, "do you feel able to continue?"
Tibs frowned. "How long did this take?"
"Most of the afternoon."
Tibs stared at his teacher. He couldn't be right. He'd only imagined himself within the lake for... well, not the whole afternoon. Alistair looked at him expectantly, so Tibs felt his reserve. The advantage of having little was that it refilled quickly. He nodded.
"I want you to extend that awareness of the essence within you to that which is outside of you. I want you to sense the essence of the water permeating the air around you. It's easier to do that here because we're closer to the source."
"Is that the rumble I can hear?"
"The waterfall? No, that's more a consequence of its proximity."
Water fall? Tibs listen to it and he could see it being a lot of water falling together.
He closed his eyes and imagined his reserve. This time, unlike the lake, he stood over a clear surface and knew that his reserve was below that, with the void below it. He knelt and touched it and understood that gap was what was left until his essence refilled completely. It had felt full to him, but there was still a little to go.
He called to the essence, and it moved to his hand, passing through the gap. Once in his hand, he stood and studied what he held. It wasn't water, it was essence, but what did it mean? What did it feel like? He searched for the right word to describe it, but he didn't have them or, he suspected, they didn't exist. Instead, he kept returning to rough approximations of what he thought they should be, like moist, misty, wet, humid.
He knew they were wrong, but they would have to do. He let the essence fall through his fingers and back into the reserve. He kept the words in mind, focused on the sensation they evoked, and pushed that outward, searching for it outside of his mind, of his body.