Of Oz’s many flaws, he never lacked proper respect for women. Nor was he any worse at talking to them than he was boys. If anything, he was better, as most of the boys he’d grown up with tended to pick fights which cut chances for conversation short.

  To the surprise of at least a few of the adults round town, he’d had a short-lived romance here and there over the years. The older folks clearly forgetting the penchant for bad decisions and the allure of really annoying your parents. His bad boy persona and a body that allowed him to carry an entire tree trunk over one shoulder did much of the heavy lifting in those short-lived relationships.

  That said, he’d accidentally caused a few girls to cry over the years. Including one ex-girlfriend whose dad had taken exception to her choice of partner, and had tried to ‘teach him a lesson’. This had resulted in the older man getting a brief but detailed lesson about how age did not equal wisdom or combat capability.

  That was apparently not the right thing to do, and until that point the hardest he'd ever made a girl cry. He’d never reduced anyone to this level. Maizette the fairy was a flood of tears and snot, it was a wonder that she didn’t drown with each heart-wrenching sob she took.

  “What’s wrong?” Oz turned on the male fairy.

  “Why are you looking at me!” the little voice snapped back.

  “I didn’t do this alone, I don’t even know what I did!”

  “This is your fault, brother! You arrogant shithead! Even an ooze wouldn’t eat you! Oh Nether, this is the worst!” Her sobs began to tail off, not because she was getting better, more like she’d reached the bottom of whatever terrible well of sorrow she had fallen into.

  “You speak fairy? Wait, were you listening to us the whole time?” The brother looked horrified.

  “Is that the bit where your voices go all chimey? Is that what you’ve been speaking this whole time?”

  “I can’t believe it. Gol—‘brother’, this is your fault. I should tell him your name, but I’m not so cruel. This was my first role.” Maizette’s sobs were gentler now, her voice raw with a resigned tone to it.

  Even Oz classic had never enjoyed making people cry. It was always something he regretted, and right now it felt like he’d eaten hot glass. The shame and empathy cut in, scalding his senses. Somehow he’d wrecked this entire thing.

  “Shit, shit, shit! He’s not meant to know fairy,” Gol-something said.

  “Language! And I didn’t even think I knew fairy. You’re the first fairies I’ve ever spoken to. If this is part of the puzzle I think someone’s got an atrocious sense of humour.” Oz looked around. Things might make more sense if this was a test.

  “We are well off-script here, you idiot,” Gol-something snapped, going over to try and comfort Maizette, who slapped at him in return.

  “You should get it over with.” Maizette flopped to the ground, finally stopping weeping.

  “I feel I’m missing a lot of context here. You, Gol-whatever, what is going on? Why is she looking like I’ve killed her?” Oz turned to the other fairy, hoping for something to help fix the situation.

  “Don’t play games, just eat her and be done with it.”

  “Right, you keep your kinks to yourself, mate.” Were people trying to irritate him?

  “What?”

  “Don’t look at me like that! I heard you before, wanting to be shredded. Now telling me to eat your sister—it’s creepy.”

  “She’s not my sister.”

  “That’s what you object to?”

  “If a dungeon knows a fairy’s name they can call on them for aid. In doing so they promise to protect their name, for if someone not bound to a core knows a fairy’s name they can bind them to their form, and even summon them if needed. Then they eat them and consume their power.” The girl’s voice was tiny and fragile. The sing-song tone marked it as something ancient, like prayer or curse.

  “What the fuck is wrong with people! I’m not going to eat you! I wouldn’t even eat him, and he seems into it.”

  “Hey!”

  “That’s what they all say. The power is too tempting though. The power can also heal wounds, and the names of fairies are traded for vast treasures of wealth.” Her eyes were dead, staring down a dark tunnel of history. Oz was emotionally unequipped for this, and culturally starved.

  Did normal people know this? Why was everyone always consuming horrific slag to gain power? Who even thinks to themselves that they should try eating a sentient being in the first place?

  “Look, I’m not going to. Can I not, I don’t know, forget your name? I promise not to eat you, or sell your name, because that is plain wrong. I’ll do an oath or something.”

  “You don’t want to consume my power?” The small fairy looked up, silver tears gathered at the edges of her golden eyes.

  “No, not even a little bit!”

  “Everyone wants power!” That came from Gol. Oz glared at him.

  “I want to leave this slagging dungeon, that’s what I want. But if I find I can’t, there’s no situation where I decide to chow down on an innocent person as my ticket out! Seriously, this is all kinds of wrong. And shouldn’t you be trying to help? This is your fault—I mean, it was you who used her name in front of me.”

  “I was speaking fairy!”

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  “She called you brother the whole time, I’m pretty sure there’s a reason behind that!”

  “We’re never meant to use each other’s names, just in case. This is why!” Maizette screeched at Gol.

  “How was I supposed to know this one could understand? It’s never happened before! How do you even know fairy?”

  “I don’t know! I don’t even know how I got here! Someone poisoned my soul today, and now I’m here, in this place that stinks of burnt hair and off meat, where everything wants to eat me or expects me to eat them!

  “My soul is so banged up I can’t even spend the essence to empower myself and pass this ‘academy’s’ test, which I’m certain was built by someone who wanted to combine a murder pit with a sub-standard moral story about not accepting evil crystals. That’s not to even mention the chests full of teeth. Or the fact I have no idea what I’m doing!

  “I wasn’t even trying to be a delver, I was going into the ranger corps. And now I’ve got some kind of death power over you I don’t want, plus a whole load of powers basically calling me a massive piece of slag. Which right now feels unpleasantly accurate, as I scream at the two people who aren’t actively trying to kill me!”

  Oz stomped away.

  “It’s not like I wanted to be a thug at school, and I don’t want to be a thug here! But people give me no choice! I’m not a bad person! Why does everyone expect the worst of me?” Oz said, leaning against the far wall to catch his breath. Chops came up next to him, his warm, happy presence soothed him.

  “Not you, boy. You’re the best.” Oz embraced the dog, not minding him licking his face, as it did wonders to hide the tears that were flowing.

  This was why Oz hated thinking.

  What felt like an hour but was probably only a few minutes passed. Oz calmed down, mostly thanks to the goodest of boys. Behind him he heard movement.

  “You really promise not to eat me?” Maizette was staring at Oz. She’d stopped crying, which he took as a good sign.

  “Yes, I do. When we get out of here I’ll talk to the archchancellor and work something out.” He saw the worry blossom again and began to speak. The Other helped. Oz was not a loquacious soul, he literally didn’t know the meaning of the word, but the Other knew how to explain, it had the words.

  “I, Ozren Grimbrow, on the name of my clan promise to never use Maizette’s name for anything malicious, or outside her consent. I won’t tell it to anyone, I won’t use it to gain her power, I won’t use it to coerce or otherwise pressure her, and I will do my utmost to try and find a permanent way to fix this. I promise I won’t do anything bad, alright! I also promise to continue thinking Gol over there is a total weirdo who needs to think before he speaks.” Did he have to add that last bit? Apparently he did. Oz wasn’t quite a new man, the old bits were still stuck on.

  “Did you really say ‘anything bad’ as part of the promise?” She looked a little better, less like she was about to burst into tears. Oz risked a smile.

  “I did. I don’t know how this all works, and I don’t want an explanation unless it helps me avoid fucking up in new and interesting ways. What would help is information about the current situation. The sooner I get out of here, the sooner we can try and sort something out. So you’ve got stuff to tell me.” He turned to look at Gol, who had wisely shut up. To the little guy’s credit, he looked utterly distraught, his too-big head pulled into a grimace as he stared at his feet.

  “We can’t just tell you things,” he muttered.

  “He sounds like he’s having a rough day, ‘brother’. Just help him out.”

  “Plus the best way for me to help her is for me to get out of this dungeon. Is that really so hard?” Oz replied.

  “Fine, fine, but there’s only so much I can tell you. I literally cannot tell you relevant things for the dungeon outside of what I’m allowed to share. So the next bit of script is where we’re meant to tell you two things: what the trick to getting the key to the other door is, and the true nature of the Jackal Master.”

  “It’s not that he’s called Molmest Cockwarren, is it?” Oz got out the library book, only to look up and see both fairies staring at him as if he’d grown a second head—or maybe a third. With Chops, two wasn’t all that much to write home about.

  The fairy he’d mentally renamed Maizy started to laugh tiny giggles, while Gol spluttered.

  “Why would it be that? That can’t be a real person.” The fairy was winding up to call Oz an idiot again, he could tell. He slapped the book down. Hard.

  “I found it in this book. I thought it was a clue?” Oz growled, struggling to keep his cool. Chops joined in with his own rumble, happy to be able to contribute to the discussion, and Gol darted behind Maizy. She, being braver now the immediate death was off the table, came over and looked at the library card.

  “Brother, to be fair, that’s not a bad deduction.” Her validation brought a smile to Oz’s face. He could totally do clues.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s supposed to be here. It’s not part of the scenario. I think someone might’ve just left that here. You can tell because it doesn’t look right, or rather it doesn’t have the manufactured design of dungeon stuff.” Her explanation annoyed him, but it did make sense. Thinking back to the weird paper sheet and the blunt mural, both of those lacked a sense of being real. They were props meant to draw the eye. Now it had been called out, Oz could see that the book and bag both seemed more normal. It wouldn’t be a surprise to see them in real life.

  Frustratingly, it meant he was down a clue. Worse, that meant Molmest was someone’s real name. He tried to look on the bright side, but struggled. This whole corridor had been a mistake.

  He should’ve just taken his chances with the obviously trapped corridor.

  “I might not be too into this, but I’m pleased the first boss I fight isn’t called Molmest. It’s just embarrassing. Wait, doesn’t telling me that count as info about the dungeon?”

  “Ehhh, telling you things that aren’t part of the dungeon is okay-ish.” Gol joined in. “The dungeon cares far more about intent. If I tried to work around the limits to give you an advantage you shouldn’t have, then it’d be a problem. This is more correcting a mistake, and it feels like the dungeon is giving us some wiggle room with you, which is rare.”

  “Alright, so this key?”

  “Hang on, I should be in character for this—Thank you, great hero, we spotted the dastardly Jackal hiding something on one of the ropes yonder. They used the blue and green levers—be glad I cut out the puzzle elements I could’ve included,” Gol added.

  “Now it’s my turn.” Maizy stood and cleared her throat. “—Oh hero, the Jackal Master is a foul creature. He poisons others and sucks out their power, leaving only corruption behind. He has even been known to drain their remaining power, entirely consuming their life force when he is wounded. But do not fear, as this does weaken him, as he must overcome the corruption left in their gems.—There, that’s it.”

  “So kill his minions, or don’t?” Oz tried to unpick that one, and what it meant for his bag full of crystals.

  “It’s a strategic choice! Kill them all and he can’t heal, but he’ll be at full power for the whole fight. Or leave them alive and let him heal and permanently weaken him. It’s meant to enable different combat types, like if you’re someone who doesn’t have a lot of burst damage you can chip away at him to get him to weaken himself. Or if you’re someone who’s got big skills with long cooldowns, you should kill them all and then go all out.” Maizy started to explain. She’d opened up a lot, getting back much of her earlier colour. Literally—her glowing body had been tamped down to mere embers, and was now back to a merry blaze.

  “Dungeon head!” Gol muttered.

  “Slagheaps like you shouldn’t throw around insults. You mouthy masochist,” Oz snapped at the little fairy. “Is that it? I’m going to be honest, I have no idea what I’m doing. Any help would be appreciated.”

  “I’m sorry, that’s it. I think any more and we’d be pushing the rules.” She shuffled her feet, looking at him again. “So… you’re really not going to… use my name?”

  “No. Not a chance. I don’t do creepy shit like that.” He paused. Chops had disappeared while they were talking, and he could hear distant worrying noises. “Now if you excuse me, I have to cut some gems out of my enemies’ hearts before Chops chokes on them.”

  “Are we done? We need confirmation so we can be excused.”

  “Sure, err… be gone… or, you know, however I get rid of you guys.”

  “That’ll work.” Both of them disappeared in a puff of glitter.