Anima: A Divine Dungeon Series (Artorian's Archives Book 6)

by Dennis Vanderkerken

When Marie said ‘going down,’ Artorian had expected a gradual decline. He had not expected her to turn her flight off entirely and piledrive to the ground below at terminal velocity. She landed with a solid *thunk*, the ground wavering as she made it look seamless. The crumpling wet noodle that piled up next to her wasn’t so graceful, but it did allow Artorian to repress his own flight capacities. The Runescripting ceased their rambunctiousness, and he sighed weakly in relief. “Well, at least I won’t jettison off into the sky just to tenderize the ground a few times. That wasn’t fun.”

  When Artorian slowly opened his eyes, a field of flying dots littered his vision. Was he seeing spots? Hundreds of flying colored orbs were congregating before him, though they all appeared to make way as a single purple one raced at full blast towards his face. Grace the Wisp slammed into his forehead hard enough to tackle his somewhat risen face right back to the grass. So much for not tenderizing the ground. “Towian!”

  Towian? Was that a toddler version of his name? Shouldn’t Grace be significantly older by now? Or did Wisp aging function in a method that was unknown to him? Likely the latter. Still, he’d treat her all the same. “Sweetheart! Hello, my dear. I’ve missed you too. Are these all your friends? Can I meet them?”

  Grace bounced off his face like a rubber ball that made its own momentum. She spun in place as she hit the ground and did a twirl. In front of his eyes, Artorian watched with glee and wonder as the purple ball of energy sparkled, spinning into a pre-dressed human body. Specifically, a three to five-year-old in a suspiciously familiar dress robe. Looked like Zelia had been advertising.

  Her voice was giddy, filled with excited, boundless energy. “Ta-daah!”

  “Wonderful! I would clap, but my arms are too short. I would make a spare arm, but found that it causes a few setbacks. Look at these wiggly claws!” He flailed his arms around, and it looked as ridiculous as it sounded. They were far too small for the body, and the Wisps in attendance snickered. He ignored the hapless laughter erupting from Marie, who needed to hold her stomach as she bent over and heaved. It wasn’t that funny…

  Grace put her hand into the air, and the reactions stopped as if a copper just fell on the floor. Oof. Now that was some influence. “Towian should just tuwn? It’s not hawd. We can all do it. Then youw awms will be nowmal!”

  He had to admit he was a little out of sorts. Did they mean undergoing the humanization effect the chosen went through? He didn’t think that was an option for him. On second consideration, why had he thought that? Weren’t Spirit bodies specifically useful because they were so malleable? “That’s a wonderful idea! Yet, I may need a hand getting started. Marie over there is laughing too hard for me to ask her anything. Would you or any of your friends have insight?”

  Grace bit her finger and thought about it. Her mother wasn’t around, otherwise she would have just deferred to her. Given Dani wasn’t, Grace pointed at a particularly blue Wisp. Noticing he had been prompted, Invictus hovered closer. His humanized form morphed from it smooth and clean, hands immediately adjusting his sleeveless brocade vest.

  A word hadn’t fallen from his lips and Artorian had already thrown him into the box of ‘silver-tongued advisors who whisper into the ears of Kings.’ The Wisp-turned-man just had that air about him. That tiny smile on the edge of his lips, the suave and steady gait of playful confidence. Invictus rocked a square jaw that could sell flowers before they’d even been planted. His eyes glinted with tiny schemes.

  “Salutations, friend of Grace. I am called Invictus; please feel free to just call me Vi for convenience. I would be delighted to present a step-by-step process for you. May I be allowed?” Invictus pressed a hand to his chest, performing a light court-quality bow.

  This little sneak! Vi was placing the impetus of the action squarely back in his hands, to make it seem as if the ideas that arrived from this discourse were his own, no doubt. What kind of dungeon would need such a silver tongue to keep it on task? Actually… this might be the perfect time to find out. A smirk formed on Artorian’s face. Schemer versus schemer? Well, let the games begin!

  The following two hours turned all of Marie’s giggles into excruciating winces. If she wasn’t forced to stay, she would have taken any excuse to escape from this slimeball of a fight. The Administrator and Wisp were speaking to one another as if they were Dukes attending a court ball. Resorting purely to wit and clever wordplay to try to get the best of the other, while ever making it seem as if the spoken word was neither insult, nor rapier-jab to the kidney.

  To Marie, who was sickened by the honeyed attempts of countless advisors and chancellors over the ages to get her to do one thing or another—that may not always be in her favor, but definitely to theirs—this exchange was torture. She likened it to listening to two high-on-their-horse Nobles use procedure and unspoken rules to really stick it to the other while somehow remaining both cordial and informative.

  In this instance, Invictus played the role of the court chancellor, appointed by the crown. He considered himself better and superior due to practiced skill and innate talent while his rump rested squarely on a plush pedestal of status. Artorian, on the other hand, played the part of the fresh-faced Noble, arriving to jam several wrenches into otherwise well-oiled spokes. The longer it went on, the more Marie wanted to just sink back into her throne back at home and cover more of her face with her palm.

  “I just need to tune them out.”

  Chapter Forty

  After checking out for a while to just not hear it anymore, Marie gathered herself to look back up. Where did the noodle creature go? Something that big didn’t just disappear. Her mood altered from wrenched and taxed to confused and concerned. He hadn’t shot off into the sky like the stories recounted, had he? A cursory glance upwards found nothing, but an in-depth look at a gathering of nearby people explained why her eyes had glossed over the matter.

  All the Wisps had taken their human forms, and gathered up in a loose circle based on the hue of their attire. In the center, a very much human Artorian and frazzled Invictus were still going at it. Perhaps it was time to pay attention, and she tuned her senses to listen in.

  The mention of ‘courts’ had been right on the money. The Wisps divided themselves as such, and within their own schema of color held a rather specific hierarchy. This was the topic Marie became privy to. Which by itself came as a surprise as she’d never gotten so much as a detail on Wisp society out of any of them. Yet Invictus was so out of sorts that he was just about yelling them at the man. The pleased little smirk plastered on a young Artorian’s lips told her volumes of the story.

  Marie hushed to herself. “Administrator… what did you do?”

  She also noted that he physically appeared to be around two decades in age, but was quickly distracted by the frustration pouring out of Invictus as Artorian was purposefully getting something wrong to rile him up. “So you’re in the family of fish, then. Well, alright. I’ll make sure to write it down properly.”

  “No, no, no. Not fish. Fae. Wisps belong to the family of Fae.” Invictus’s vest had come a few buttons undone, and his slicked hair had dried up, gaining the contrast of tumbleweed. Where the square-jawed smooth talker normally had no issues getting people to curve along the bends of his river, this absolute madman before him was making him pull the remnants of his short beard out.

  The Wisps around the dueling duo were delighting in the abyss Vi was being put through. A little catharsis, as they indulged in the slime speaker being fed some medicine too bitter to swallow. Artorian nodded sagely, clearly pretending to understand even if he’d spent the last few minutes just dropping verbal hammers. He wasn’t even trying to smoothen jabs over anymore, and that made it all the more enjoyable for the gathering. “Of course, of course. The Fae family, of which you are a blue affiliate of the water tribe.”

  The pink Wisps, recognizable by the color of their attire, collectively snickered. As that was so obviously wrong. Or it was to them, even though their own smil
es and lack of Matron was distracting them from remembering they shouldn’t be talking about this. It was just too juicy of an enjoyment to pass up. They secretly had bets on when Vi was going to pull his hair out.

  Not if! Only when.

  Vi boiled over. “No! I am a celestial affinity Wisp, and my coloration happens to be blue. Our colors don’t necessarily reflect our standing. That only reflects our affinity links. It has nothing to do with our familial ties. That’s all just for helping to discern where we fit per our function.”

  Artorian’s sagely nodding continued, stabbing an extra wrench in the spokes. “Of course, my good sir. Blue matches blue, so it must be the water dungeons you are suited to.”

  Solid rhyming, and yet the pink Wisps silently squeezed their eyes shut and looked down, shoulders bouncing as they worked to keep the sound in. Nope! That was them again! Invictus turned red, and threw his proverbial hat to the ground. “I am a celestial affinity Wisp! I match celestial affinity dungeons, because of the specific psychological quirks I cancel out. A single affinity, to match a single affinity.”

  Vi fumed, and like a dam pressured by too much water, his patience broke. The Wisp freely gushing secrets. “Celestial dungeons, those stuck up, self-important pale yellow and gold Cores. Like to irradiate an area with their power, littering it with goods to just lure people in and make them quarrel over the territory. They ignore doing any building, doing any work, or putting any effort into anything aside from lounging on their cozy little thrones, letting everything and everyone else do the work for them. Like a fat Lord in a fat fief. I, as a matching Wisp, guide and convince my dungeon to work with the other Essence types, because I can convince him they’re useful.”

  The blue Wisp was on a roll. “As example! When I asked my dungeon what it was up to, it just mumbled ‘something’ back at me. When I prodded if that meant it was actually doing ‘anything,’ it smirked and had one of its favorite creatures perform a lazy stretch, claiming that it did ‘everything’ around here. I spent years prodding at that prideful, homeless brat to actually make its dungeon. Then just to toy with me, it filled it with goats!”

  Invictus the Frazzled needed a breath, breaking right back into the topic as he was so far past keeping the proper decorum. This needed to be hurled off his chest. He needed to slam this person and prove once and for all that he knew better. “Water-based dungeons have blue Cores, and while they have the full ability to build their own dungeons, they are flighty and prone to distraction. Pink Wisps bond to these blue Cores, specifically because they are naturally blessed with the ability to reduce mind altering effects. A pink Wisp can keep a blue Core on task like no other, and that type of combination is a nigh guarantee, as other Wisps will decline on principle. It was originally believed that water dungeons went with the flow, but ever since Cal, that theory has been thoroughly drowned.”

  Pink Wisps were nodding along as the information was provided. Invictus wasn’t done; he wasn’t going to let this Dragon-turned-man get even an off-hand quip in! Not until he was finished. “Purple Wisps bond to lapis Cores. Lapis Cores are air affinity dungeons, who, unlike blue Cores, are not able to build their own dungeons. They can only occupy and spread to preset or pre-built areas. Thus they rely on purple Wisps, who specialize in using ambient Essence to reshape areas.”

  “In this bonding, it is the Wisp that makes the dungeon, and the dungeon Core that plays backup. Air dungeons are quick to give up and need encouragement, since moving air all the time is tiring. Purple Wisps are natural encouragers, helping their dungeon to keep it up and keep going. They are catalysts, happy to tell their dungeon that they’re proud while giving positive reinforcement. Air dungeons are unsure of themselves, and purple Wisps point them to the finish line. Sneaking in little actions they want their dungeon to do via sweet suggestions.”

  He pointed up at the Silverwood Tree. “As an example, we have a Core here called Mu. Mu didn’t do so well when he first got here. He lived Wisp-less for a good majority of his pre-Soul Space days in a bag—and later a treasure chest—because he just couldn’t make progress. Once he was here, surrounded by supportive Wisps, he has made the most amazing dire turkey-based dungeon we’ve ever seen.”

  Approval from Grace followed, that explanation correct as Vi marched on. “Then you have the complete opposite dynamic with fire affinity dungeons. Green Wisps bond to red Cores. Those Cores, for all their significant power, are lazy. They hate doing work more than a celestial dungeon does, which is why green Wisps are so compatible. Fire affinity Wisps are natural taskmasters. They know how and where to prod their dungeon to get it moving and make it do some work. A fire dungeon will happily rage all day and play around without a second thought, but rarely do anything with substantial value. Fire dungeons delight in turning up the heat against adventurers, and will forget entirely that they rely on these same adventurers to grow. Green Wisps know how to handle these uncouth little children, and innately know the difference between when to spank them and when to thank them.”

  The green Wisps smiled wryly, secretly pleased at the mention. “Orange Wisps bond to green dungeons. As earth affinity Cores are uncanny perfectionists, they will find one, tiny, specific thing they want to work on and plow forward solely in that vein. They are horribly forgetful of any project they are not currently working on, and suffer from tunnel vision that can’t be dwarfed. Orange Wisps are fantastic at soothing, and can make their dungeon pay attention to quantity, rather than quality. An earth dungeon will work on one thing, forever, if you let it. Earth dungeons will make the single most majestic entryway while the rest of their dungeon falls apart, if orange Wisps didn’t help them be more attentive.”

  The orange Wisps shoved a thumbs up in Vi’s direction. That was on the nose. “Silver Wisps bond with opal-black dungeons, as those hungry Cores brim with infernal. An infernal dungeon surprisingly isn’t a glutton for matter, as much as it is a glutton for material. Informational material. Given the option, an infernal dungeon wouldn’t leave a library until every last scrap of know-how had been consumed. They thrive by gaining knowledge, and will endlessly break down anything and everything to keep on learning. To a fault! As they will never put anything back. Silver Wisps force the dungeon to replace what has been lost and destroyed, because otherwise there would only be an ever more sizable hole in the ground.”

  Silver Wisps agreed in unison. Again, a correct portrayal concerning the kind of headache they had to deal with. “Infernal dungeons are so hungry for new things that they tend to border on the ravenous and monstrous, and it is only by the grace of Silver Wisps that they are—for lack of a better term—humanized. Infernal Wisps instill fairness, cleverness, and the importance of social connectivity. Just to stop an infernal dungeon from eating anything that walked through its doors in the most unfair manner. Because unfair dungeons just get hunted down. With an infernal Wisp, they gain the crucial trait of patience. Teaching the dungeon about timing and how important it is to not reveal one’s hand too early.”

  Artorian had remained silent for now, but gently motioned in the direction of a salmon colored one in their midst.

  Vi sharply inhaled. “Pure affinities of a single type are the most direct and plain examples that can be easily correlated to the dungeon in question that is best for them to bond with. It is also the case that dungeons with multiple affinities function best with a Wisp that also has multiple matching traits. Talia the Fourth comes from a long line of Wisps, who all mix the earth and water affinities. Pink and orange mixes visually to produce her lovely salmon hue.”

  Artorian thought he followed. “She then matches best to a dungeon with both the relevant water and earth affinities?”

  Talia the Fourth laced her fingers, and calmly gave a single nod. That had been the way of things in her family line. Her clothing altered temporarily to a soft teal, before her salmon-colored dress regained its original luster.

  Invictus took the display as an opportunity for yet another stick to
smack the miser with. “Wisps communicate not in a spoken language, but in an emotional display of colors, feelings, and imagery. Our coloration always restores itself to our affinity, even if a bond with a dungeon can change that base color permanently.”

  He smirked in his assumed superiority. “Several times, if the circumstances are correct. If a dungeon somehow manages to gain new affinities—rare, though it does happen—the linked Wisp will gain the benefits of such a discovery, and rise in power as well. The more affinities established, the higher in the courts such a Wisp sits. It is therefore improper and impolite to speak to a Wisp with more affinities without their prior assent.”

  The Administrator was starting to understand the political landscape. “Intriguing. Though I did see everyone defer to Grace earlier. From what I could tell, she’s young, and of single alignment. Yet you all fell in line regardless.”

  Invictus was going to loudly speak of the topic, but he stilled without another word when Talia the Fourth stood. The hierarchy at play, no doubt.

  Her voice was brusque, and full of push. “It has been an enjoyable routine of comedy to watch you work, master Administrator. No need to quirk your brow at me, the Matron has spoken of you in discussion. Before more is said, I must ask with sincerity that you do not further divulge what you have heard. These are court secrets that our frazzled blue has let slip.”

  Artorian paused, and shot Invictus a questioning look. Marie, off in the distance, pretended that she could hear nothing. Vi gave a reply under his breath. “The socially accepted response is to stand, and lightly bow as I did when first greeting you.”

  Understanding the necessary convention, the Administrator stood and proceeded to do so. His clothing was nothing fancy, as simple robes were all he could make by himself. He’d needed to do something with all that extra dragon-mane fluff.

  Still, the act was sufficient for Talia the Fourth, who gently closed her eyes to make an approving head motion. She spoke slowly when Artorian sat, the brusqueness gone entirely from her voice. “Above the courts sits Dani, our Matron. As an all-affinity Wisp, her location in the hierarchy goes unquestioned. While she may stick to her current purple coloration, it is merely for the comfort of her dungeon. Grace, her dearest, may be of a single affinity, but that in no way means we do not respect the family line. It is that same family line that keeps her in the psychological stance she chooses to portray.”