He’d been searching for excuses that would let them end the conversation, and at first he’d been delighted when thundering steps seemed to beeline towards his caravan. The joy had dropped like a rock in his stomach. He’d mistaken the massive man coming their way for Dimi from sheer size, but the Iridium cradled in his arms stood out. The slumped figure in the arms of that massive man was enough for him to make snap decisions.
“Dimi! Our human is comin’ in hot. Intercept and poultice! The rest of you lot, Caravan in motion! Destination Morovia.” Don moved to the front of the group and got everything moving. The Gnome stared for a moment, then hopped away upon seeing the commotion. His time would come.
Dimi snatched a major health potion from his belt and hustled in the direction of the incoming… he didn’t know what that was, but he didn’t want to be in the way of it. He’d never seen a man that was him-sized. No wonder people thought he was a fright when he bolted towards them. Dimi held up the reflective glass of the potion, and the approaching darkness comet must have noticed because the charger slowed down.
Half out of breath and heaving from a run that he hadn’t stopped for far longer than was healthy, Tychus coughed out a single word as his heart pounded in his chest. “Help!”
He could recognize a potion when he saw one, and the massive Dwarf had strode straight toward him from the very caravan his Elder had described. Ty’s arms felt like hewn stone, and his legs were slabs of granite. Stopping made the strain and expenditure catch up with him, and the rest of his words didn’t make it out at all.
Dimi twisted off Artorian’s helmet with surprising ease, and dunked the lip of the potion over into the drooling mouth after tugging the cork out with his teeth. “Hold his head up higher! Don’t let him choke on the preparation dose.”
Tychus was still in doing-what-he-was-told mode, and didn’t think twice before following orders. Neither man said anything about the other. It didn’t matter that a giant half-dwarf was handling a variety of poultices with the practiced ease of a juggler, or that an equally massive man had thick black veins coursing under his muscle while infernal Essence still crackled across patches of his ashen skin. The focus of both was on triage, and Tychus had automatically defaulted to the support role. The adopted son of the Fringe and the adopted son of Modsognir spoke without words.
The right combination of healing, cleansing, and purification potions went a long way to stabilizing their joint charge. Artorian woke and drew a breath, eyelids flickering a moment. Hazily, he saw his son. The edges of his lips curled up into a smile, and his metal hand laid upon the massive knuckles of his boy. “You… did good. My son. Protect… your brother.”
Tychus set his jaw, and handed his grandfather over into Dimi’s experienced arms. They didn’t know it, but the sudden loss of the Vizier was causing a commotion behind them as the hierarchy collapsed. His Elder was right. He needed to get to his brother, so he let his grandfather go off with the caravan that his old man trusted to get to safety.
His reply didn’t come in time to be heard; Artorian was out cold again. “I… I will… father.”
Dimi didn’t believe his ears, but didn’t have the luxury to question the statement. He connected his gaze with the frowning, massive, clenched-jaw man. “We’ll get him back to his usual peppy state. He’ll be back for ya, I’m sure of it. Old codger doesn’t let nuthin’ go.”
Inhaling sharply, Tychus squeezed his hands into steadied fists. He gave the dwarven healer a stern nod before turning to backhand a snooping thief. One of many interested in the goods of a well-stocked poultice-master. The son of the Fringe understood what he needed to do, and accepted the meaning the dwarf was trying to relay. “Go.”
Dimi hurried back to an already leaving caravan as the mountain turned to handle… local discord. Jumping into the back of the last cart, Artorian was laid on the thick blanket hiding the treasure trove of coin. Those broken off fangs didn’t look pleasant. Dimi saw to step two of what looked like long days of considerable intensive care. Cursed pyrite! It hadn’t even been the entire planned day and they were back on the move already.
Between getting the armor off and finding additional secondary wounds that needed tending, Dimi offhandedly watched as the region they left devolved into all-out civil war. Uncivil war? Yeesh. A wet cough brought his attention back to where it was needed. Fixing this… was going to take a while.
Epilogue
Artorian opened his eyes to a lovely sky. His first, properly lucid breath was pleasant and light, filled with nostalgia as the scent of overgrown bluegrass gently brushed over his senses. Was he five years old again? How long had it been since he’d lain in the endless wild fields?
He knew better than to sit up, and instead performed a self-checkup. Oh. Oh my. That didn’t look great. His Presence still wrapped around him nice and tight, but the energy in it had significantly drained to keep him afloat. A worthwhile trade. The Essence he could get back. The life, he could not. So what’s the damage?
The stab wounds in his lower abdomen had healed and closed, but not exactly properly. One of his kidneys was just gone, with matching damage around the other wound. He didn’t find any remaining crystal venom, and that was a good thing. While this damage was going to dampen his already questionable physical fighting abilities, an injury like this would have permanently crippled an internal cultivator.
Artorian knew he wasn’t getting up for at least a few weeks as his vitals healed, and his cultivation core mended some minor issues with refined Essence before spinning up into gear. Good news: he lived. Both his boys lived, and knew he was coming back. Astrea was safe in Skyspear. Lunella and Wux were safe in the Fringe.
His exhale relieved metaphysical weight from his shoulders as he tore a mental checklist up into ribbons. Every item was checked, and it was no longer needed. Now came phase two of the master plan. Gathering enough power to gather them all, and bundling them in a safe, single location.
A high-pitched voice he’d never heard before piped up behind him. “Ah, you’re awake… excellent!”
Artorian raised a single eyebrow, tilting his head back as he pulled himself mostly out from his Center. “That voice does not sound familiar to me. Hello there, have we met before?”
The sound of minute movements let it be known that the creature moving wasn’t very sizable. To Artorian’s confusion, a spiffily dressed gnome walked into view and stood at his hip with patient poise. A leafy green vest smoothly fit over a tunic and breeches; a diminutive matching pointed cap nestled on his head while lensed clockworked glasses whirred lightly as he changed the focus on them.
“A delight to make your acquaintance, good human. My name is Deverash Editor Neverdash the Dashingly Dapper! Please feel free to call me Dev, or Dev Editor if you feel the need to be formal.”
Artorian moved a finger forward, meaning to poke the gnome in the belly just to check if he was hallucinating. The gnome, however, took it as a cordial greeting and grasped the outstretched finger with both hands before giving it a shake!
“Well met! I’ve so been looking forward to conversing with you. I’ve been told you’re a more cerebral conversation partner that can appreciate a proper academic argument.”
The old man cleared his throat, and pulled his finger back. He found some nearby water, and had himself a drink before answering. “Ah, well. I’d say I’m decent at some verbal back and forth. My name is Artorian, current Headmaster of Skyspear Academy. Though, I expect that to change when the caravan gets back there. My injuries don’t lend themselves to being able to teach adequately.”
The small gnome held up a hand to indicate a request for a pause. Artorian broke off from what may have devolved into a lengthy blabbering session. It wasn’t every day you spoke to a gnome. Speaking of, he’d never known any mention of gnomes to exist outside of references that some of their leftover technology had been found. Deverash piled up some cloth and climbed it like a hill before seating himself.
“Deli
ghtful! I’ll fetch the poultice master shortly, though from what I can see, you’re stable. You’ve been out for weeks, and if that high tier core of yours hadn’t been passively turning, you wouldn’t have made it. We… err… did have to make some unpleasant decisions on your behalf. I apologize for that, but it was necessary for your survival.”
Artorian deeply frowned. “What kinds of decisions?”
Deverash pressed his fingers to his mouth a moment, goggles scanning the old man over. “You’ve partially descended into your cultivation pool at the moment, I believe? Have another look, I’m certain it’s very apparent what I had to break. Now, I assure you that I was careful. Your actual core is unaffected.”
Concern peaking, the old man dunked into his own center and quickly looked around. Body? Damaged but it’ll work out. Main solar gyroscope? Present and functioning. So… what was gone? Everything seemed present… oh.
His mind zipped to the glittering, fractured remnants of his pearlescent webway. The entire thing was Essence dust and pearlescent material. Better to just… He absorbed the pearlescence just like it was Essence that needed to be broken down and refined. The entire thing was gone. Not crippled, or slightly damaged, or broken into chunks. The entire webway that had separated the inner and outer spaces of his center had been dusted completely.
Well, that was a bit of a setback. Ascending back to reality, he exhaled hard and turned his head to face the still calmly seated gnome. “Let me guess. The diversion of Essence back into the core wasn’t conducive to making sure Essence went to my vitals instead. Since I likely could not eat, and that webway was preventing my Essence from keeping my body running…”
The gnome was already nodding hard enough to need to hold onto his tiny green hat. “I’m delighted you came to the conclusion so swiftly! As I said, no damage to the actual core. I apologize for essentially crippling part of your cultivation. I was told you'd understand adherence to priorities.”
The academic didn’t have words for a moment. Not having that webway was going to significantly increase the time that was needed to climb back into the upper C-ranks. He needed to ascend into Magehood to take care of his next batch of problems. Said problems had escalated to the realm of slighted Vicars and a betrayed self-important Flesh Mage. This was outside the realm of what C-rankers could handle, and he would not have Dawn to rely on for quite some time.
“I…” Another sigh left him. “Yes, yes, I do understand. If it meant I lived to have this conversation, I can’t even hold it against you, and am thankful for your assistance in my continued wellbeing. Though, I will preface that I am terribly confused as to how a gnome is speaking to me, Dev. I was under the impression that… actually I don’t know what happened to gnomes as a race or even what to guess. Would you mind filling me in on some basics? I’m aware the caravan encountered a feral variant during the travels, but you don’t appear… of their persuasion. Now that I’ve affirmed my immediate wellbeing is certain, curiosity is stalking the c’towl.”
Deverash rubbed his tiny hands together in anticipation. He’d been awaiting this question and couldn’t wait to expound into a thorough talk. The dwarves couldn’t handle his chattering, and he’d managed to give them headaches by word choice alone, but the tiny gnome didn’t need to hold back here.
“Oh, I’m so glad you asked!”
Afterword
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About Dennis Vanderkerken
Hello all! I’m Dennis, but I go by a myriad of other nicknames. If you know one, feel free to use it! I probably like them more. I’m from Belgium, and have lived in the USA since 2001. English is my 4th language, so I’m making due, and apologize for the inevitable language-flub. I still call fans ceiling-windmills. The more shrewd among you may have noticed some strange sayings that may or may not have been silly attempts at direct translations! Thank you all for bearing with me.
I started writing in the The Divine Dungeon series due to a series of fortunate circumstances. I continue writing because I wanted to give hungry readers more to sink their teeth into, and help them ‘get away’ for a while. If you have any questions, or would like to chat, I live on Dakota’s Eternium discord. Feel free to come say hi anytime! Life is a little better with a good book.
Connect with Dennis:
Discord.gg/8vjzGA5
Patreon.com/FloofWorks
About Dakota Krout
I live in a 'pretty much Canada' Minnesota city with my wife and daughter. I started writing The Divine Dungeon series because I enjoy reading and wanted to create a world all my own. To my surprise and great pleasure, I found like-minded people who enjoy the contents of my mind. Publishing my stories has been an incredible blessing thus far, and I hope to keep you entertained for years to come!
Connect with Dakota:
MountaindalePress.com
Patreon.com/DakotaKrout
Facebook.com/TheDivineDungeon
Twitter.com/DakotaKrout
Discord.gg/8vjzGA5
About Mountaindale Press
Dakota and Danielle Krout, a husband and wife team, strive to create as well as publish excellent fantasy and science fiction novels. Self-publishing The Divine Dungeon: Dungeon Born in 2016 transformed their careers from Dakota’s military and programming background and Danielle’s Ph.D. in pharmacology to President and CEO, respectively, of a small press. Their goal is to share their success with other authors and provide captivating fiction to readers with the purpose of solidifying Mountaindale Press as the place ‘Where Fantasy Transforms Reality.’
Connect with Mountaindale Press:
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Mountaindale Press Titles
GameLit and LitRPG
The Completionist Chronicles and
The Divine Dungeon by Dakota Krout
A Touch of Power by Jay Boyce
Red Mage by Xander Boyce
Space Seasons by Dawn Chapman
Ether Collapse by Ryan DeBruyn
Bloodgames by Christian J. Gilliland
Wolfman Warlock by James Hunter and Dakota Krout
Axe Druid and
Mephisto’s Magic Online by Christopher Johns
Skeleton in Space by Andries Louws
Chronicles of Ethan by John L. Monk
Pixel Dust by David Petrie
Artorian’s Archives by Dennis Vanderkerken and Dakota Krout
Appendix
Abyss – A place you don’t want to be, and a very common curse word.
Adventurers’ Guild – A group from every non-hostile race that actively seeks treasure and cultivates to become stronger. They act as a mercenary group for Kingdoms that come under attack from monsters and other non-kingdom forces.
Affinity – A person’s affinity denotes what element they need to cultivate Essence from. If they have multiple affinities, they need to cultivate all of those elements at the same time.
Affinity Channel – The pathway along the meridians that Essence flows through. Having multiple major affinities will open more pathways, allowing more Essence to flow into a person’s center at one time.
Affinity Channel Type – Clogged, Ripped, Closed, Minor, Major, and Perfect. Perfect doesn’t often occur naturally.
Clogged: Draws in no essence, because the channel is blocked with corruption.
Ripped: Draws in an unknown amount of essence, but in a method that is unpredictable and lethal.
C
losed: Draws in no essence, because the channel is either unopened, or forcibly closed.
Minor: Draws in very little essence.
Major: Draws in a sizable amount of essence.
Perfect: Draws in a significant amount of essence. This affinity channel type cannot occur naturally. It is very dangerous to strive for, as the path to this type leads to ripped channels.
Alhambra – A cleric that lives in Chasuble. Kept down for the majority of his career, he remains a good man with a good heart. His priorities for the people allot him a second chance, one derived from an old man’s schemery.
Artorian – The main character of the series. If you weren’t expecting shenanigans, grab some popcorn. It only gets more intense from here on. He’s a little flighty, deeply interested, and a miser of mischief. He is referred to by the wood elves as Starlight Spirit.
Assassin – A stealthy killer who tries to make kills without being detected by his victim.
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