Miranda was waiting for him at the entrance to the dungeon, as expected. He’d made sure to arrive half an hour early to read up on the dungeon as much as he could, and still found her waiting on him. The woman seemed extraordinarily out of place in the dingy alley with her silvery-blue hair tied back in an elegant bun and her snow-white dress pristine as if it had just been laundered.
? “My, you’re awfully early,” she said, rising to her feet as he appeared, and smiled. “I was thinking you were the type to get here ahead of time, so I’ve been waiting almost fifteen minutes. Good on you, proving me right.”
? “Yo,” he said, doing his best to stay level-headed. He didn’t want to be distracted by her usual antics. “So, your eye powers? That’s from your bloodline?”
? Her smile faltered slightly at his question, but returned swiftly. “Straight to business, eh? And here I thought you were starting to become a little more fun.”
? “Oh, I’m plenty of fun,” Grim said flatly. “Life of the party.”
? She let out a peal of laughter, her eyes flashing. “Oh, that was a good one. But, down to the matter at hand. Yes, my charm is a direct result of my bloodline. An ancestor of mine was the unwilling paramour of some kind of fox-beast he couldn’t describe in any particular. Next thing he knew, his child had been born with white pupils and ice-blue hair. Then, when the child was of age and got a little… practice, they found out that she was–well, quite promiscuous.”
? His first guess would have been that she was the child in question, but something told him that wasn’t the case. Somehow, he felt as if bloodlines grew more powerful the longer they were passed down, and hers seemed… old.
? “Well, one horny child made another, and another, and so on,” she said, flipping her hand back and forth. “Somehow, it was always a daughter who inherited the bloodline. Then, lo and behold, I was born. But that is hardly important.”
? She curled her finger at him with a sly grin, and he stepped forward. Apparently, that wasn’t enough for her, because she moved until they were chest-to-chest, and brushed his hair up and away from his eyes. “Hm. It seems strong, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with your bloodline. Do you know the family name attached to it?”
? He opened his mouth to answer her–honestly–when he felt an overwhelming compulsion to lie; to list literally any other name. He wasn’t going to fight against that instinct. “Evan- uhh, Evanstan.”
? “Wait,” she took half a step back, her eyes wide. “As in Relvan Evanstan?”
? He cursed internally at the connection. Yes, he was related to Relvan the Hunter, but by a much more solid link. Why hadn’t he chosen Fendross? Eva’s family name had died long, long ago, leaving only the Evanstans and, later, the Evandross line as particularly famous. Yet his instinct hadn’t fought against using that one, he thought. So maybe it was safe? On balance, he decided to wing it.
? “Y-Yeah,” he said. “My parents told me I was a distant descendant. They had the same hair and eyes as me–well, my dad did at any rate–and they told me I had a power, but… Well, they died before I could learn how to use it.”
? *Shit, that wasn’t half bad.* He saw moisture briefly fill Miranda’s eyes at the sad little story, and knew that he’d successfully twisted the truth just enough to escape further scrutiny. “How sad. This entire time, knowing that you had this part of them in you, but never being able to use it.”
? She hastily turned away, rubbing at her eyes with a finger before flicking ice onto the cobbled street beneath her. When she turned to face him again–presumably after freezing her tears–her expression was business-like again. “Right! I’ll be the one to teach you all about bloodlines, Grim. I won’t be able to tell you the exact type that you have or its powers, but I can help you along that path.”
? He nodded slightly. He’d expected that and knew that he’d have to rely on his own instincts and reason to identify what his unique powers were. So far, his only hint had been something that Granden had said.
?? “The Evandross line was known for their many gifts outside of pure delving power, the most prominent of which was the ability to form a connection with the dungeons. The most secret, ancient, and mysterious part of the world, and they could connect to it. Learn from them. *Change* them.”
? He still wasn’t sure what he’d meant by that last line, but now wasn’t exactly the time to worry. Besides, Miranda hadn’t finished speaking. Leading the way to the entrance of the dungeon, she continued in her oration. “There are, generally, two types of bloodlines in the world. There’s something like fifty of them that are known, but they all fall into the two broad types: external and internal.”
? “What’s the difference?”
? “You’ll learn that soon enough,” she said, putting a hand to the door. “Are you going to join me, or are we taking different slots?”
? “Right, sorry,” he jumped forward to put a hand on the door as well. Level four? He almost pulled back out of instinct, knowing he couldn’t handle that threat level. But they were through before he could, and Miranda made short work of the monsters inside–some kind of ethereal blue ghouls–with her ice magic. In seconds flat, the entrance chamber was cleared. After that, she dragged Grim through the rest of the dungeon, quickly and efficiently slaughtering the monsters they encountered. She was *strong*.
? The boss of the dungeon, on the third floor, was a worm made of the same pale blue energy. It took Miranda a little longer to kill that, but by the time it shattered into nonexistence, he knew they’d barely been in the dungeon thirty minutes. He let out a low whistle of appreciation as she kicked open the chest that appeared. She peered into it for a moment, tilting her head from side to side before stooping to pick out a ring. It was a beautiful gold band with several diamonds set into one half of the circumference.
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? “Ooh, that’s shiny<‘ she said, her eyes glittering to match the gems in the ring. “Right, that’s all I want. The rest is yours.”
? Flabbergasted, but not about to pass up on so much loot with no competition, Grim hurried to scoop up the treasure into his bag. He’d sort through it later and see what wealth she’d just given him. “Thanks for that. I know you didn’t have to.”
? “Well of course I didn’t *have* to,” she said, letting out a long sigh. “But honestly, I’m level eight. Nothing this dungeon drops could have been useful to me. But the ring is pretty, so I’m keeping that. Killing shot rules.”
? He ignored the playful wink that ended that sentence, nodding his understanding. He also hadn’t failed to notice that he was getting an equal share of the essence from every kill, though he played no part. He’d tried to assist her as a scout, but she blew through the dungeon so quickly that he had no chance of getting in front of her. What had previously been a flirty, slightly dangerous woman now looked like a monster, and she knew how she’d been changed in her eyes.
? “So,” she said, her tone becoming frank. “The way my mother explained it to me, the difference between internal and external bloodlines is how it’s used. Internal bloodlines affect effects that originate inside you. Your body, your core. This can be skills, your magic, those kinds of things. Kind of like a boon, you know?”
? She flicked a finger at his bow, where it lay across his shoulders, and he nodded. “So I take it that ‘externa’ means that it affects things outside the body?”
? “Oh, good, you can do subtraction!” she teased him with a wink. “Yes. And it’s rumored to be much more difficult to control, so you'd better hope you have an internal bloodline. That’s what I have, and it makes any ice-affinity powers I use stronger and cheaper.”
? As if to demonstrate, her outline shivered for a moment before two identical copies of her appeared to either side, though they were carved from ice. She cast a large icicle from her hand at the nearby dungeon wall, and the projectile shattered without leaving a mark. When each of her Ice Clones did the exact same attack, they punched small holes into the rock before shattering, leaving two equally-sized divots to prove that they’d been there moments before.
? “It also gives me some control over water and wind,” she continued. “That helped me up until level five, but I didn’t get my real power spike until I was level six and could start acquiring new skills.”
? She walked around until she was behind him and put a hand on his back. “The trick to testing it is easy enough, even if the control–or rather the use of it–is a bit harder. To start, calm your mind, and force your cores to spin faster.”
? That was simple enough, he thought. A few lessons at the Starter Guild had taught him how to force his cores to increase their spin, thereby granting him a short buff across all abilities for a time. He hadn’t done it in a few months, but it was as easy as he’d remembered. “Good. Now, to test for an internal power, I want you to imagine that energy pulsing outward from your cores, and washing over your surroundings.”
? He pushed as hard as he could, expecting to feel his energy burst out of his body. But nothing whatsoever happened. “Damn. I don’t think I did it right.”
? “Oh, I’m sure you did,” she replied. Even without seeing her face, he could hear the smile in her voice. “But your cores didn’t move at all. A partial success, or in this case even the tiniest flicker outward, would have meant that you had an internal power.”
? “So it’s external, then.”
? “Not necessarily,” she tacked on. “Try it, though. There is a rare chance that it could be something else.”
? “What else is there?” he asked, trying to crane his neck to look back at her. “You said there were only two types.”
? “Just do it,” she growled, refusing to answer. Letting out a sigh of exasperation, he did as he was told. As soon as he tried to pull *something* to his cores, he felt a sudden lurch in his chest, and several torches nearby spluttered violently. It felt rather cool, making him think there was some kind of storm from further down the passage way. But no, it was just the result of his power.
? “Yep, you’ve got an external bloodline,” she told him, clapping him on the back. “That’s a relief. I wouldn’t have had a clue what to do if you were the third type.”
? “Which is?”
? “We like to call them *Cyclers*, because their power is neither internal nor external. It cycles between the two and spreads power between the delver and whatever they target. The last one I knew of funneled his mana into weapons to boost them, then drew it back out to boost himself. He could get pretty nasty after a few cycles. But they’re all the same, if they’re neither internal nor external.”
? “Let me guess,” he said flatly. “They’re the hardest bloodline power to train.”
? “Right in one,” she said, reappearing in front of him with a wink. “So while you may have ended up with the harder of the two common types, at least you *can* be taught. That’s a luxury a cycler wouldn’t have.”
? Just as a test, Grim mustered his mana and poured it into the dungeon around them through his feet. Granden had said that they could control dungeons, hadn’t he? Maybe he could affect the dungeon in some small way, despite the level difference. Almost at once, the ground nearby burst open, revealing another of those ghoulish specter monsters. Miranda’s reflexes were impeccable, spinning in place to pin the monster to the ground with a giant spike. Essence flowed into Grim, and it was far more than the previous times that one of those ghouls had been slain.
? “Well now, that’s interesting,” Miranda said with a frown. It was clear that she’d also felt the excess energy. Very interesting. You fed the dungeon your mana, yes?”
? Grim nodded, and she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Not the first time I’ve heard of a dungeon being manually charged by a delver. But that usually requires a long ritual and some epic enchantment work. Certainly not something either of us could manage. That makes me think your power is linked to the dungeons, in a way. Lucky you.”
? She had no idea how close to the truth she was, he thought with a barely suppressed grin. And he wasn’t particularly interested in informing her of her misunderstanding. Not that she seemed all that interested. Clapping her hands together twice, she beamed across at him, then sat against a nearby wall. “Well, now you know how it feels, so get to practicing. We’ve got about three hours in the real world to try this out, or about six in here. Get cracking!”
