Veyra watched Grim as he darted between the monsters, smiling to herself. The boy really was quick on his feet. Even when he was struck by the tree, it was a calculated move to draw the aggro of the pursuing monsters off of him. He left a pack of goblins and wolves fighting stationary trees. Before that, he’d perfectly channeled a Shadow Dash to a rooftop of a different height, and finished it with a critical hit! Marvelous work, she thought. Just watching him fight was getting her blood pumping. She loved finding new talent in unexpected places.

  ? Suck on that one, Bolton, she thought viciously, not even bothering to hide the broad grin on her face. He hadn’t thought the boy would amount to much. A standard scout and rogue. She’d make him eat those words publicly and prove once again that her judgment was always spot-on. She was, to put it simply, always right. About these things, she added mentally. No delver would be complete without a laundry list of hilarious, near-lethal mistakes.

  ? “He’s better than I thought he’d be,” one of the guards stationed nearby on the wall said. “I was damn sure the first few monsters would chew him up, but he’s nearly at the center.”

  ? Murmurs of agreement rang out from quite a few of the watchers. Entertainment on the wall around Evandross usually consisted of making elaborate or far-ranging shots on monsters, with the best snipers claiming the most fame. Today, they had a new source of amusement, but most of the figures found themselves wishing that they’d betted in favor of the boy when the betting pool had formed. Only one or two had taken the bad bet and now stood to rake in a large amount of gold.

  ? “He’s brilliant for his level,” Veyra replied. She felt a certain level of pride, though not for the boy’s skill. She had nothing to do with that. In fact, she’d have a lot of work in front of her to improve it. She had no doubt that he’d pass her test.

  ? Her grin turned to a frown as she watched Grim use Shadow Dash to cross the street. It was clear he was aiming for the inside of the house across from the cluster of trees, but something rebuffed him. A magic-using monster? They were rare in this level range, but not unheard of. She watched Grim glance around, and her frown deepened.

  ? “Why’s he just stopped?” A guard nearby asked. “He just broke out, and now he’s gonna get surrounded again!”

  ? Veyra privately agreed, but held her tongue. Perhaps Grim would find a way out of this. The boy ran up to the house he’d attempted to enter, putting a hand to its door. That was… strange. Then he yanked the door open and dove inside. Several of the wolves attempted to follow, but were knocked back.

  ? Suddenly, it became clear to Veyra what had happened. Shadow Dash was rejected because that building was a dungeon. The wolves couldn’t enter for the same reason. Except… Veyra knew the location and level of every dungeon that had been reported in the city. And that house wasn’t one of them.

  ? “Shit,” she muttered, then, without hesitation, she hurled herself over the wall, falling faster than the shouts of surprise from the guards on the wall. Activating *Predator’s Grace*, she hit the ground feet-first, her legs tensing to absorb the shock of her landing, then rolling. In an instant, she was on her feet and rushing forward.

  ? Surely the boy was intelligent enough not to enter a level four or five dungeon. Even with the threat of a large pack of monsters nearby, that was tantamount to suicide. Or perhaps he only intended to hide in the first room for the monsters to naturally disperse. That was a possibility. Either way, she thought, she had to get into the dungeon, just to make sure he hadn’t thrown himself into a dungeon that was guaranteed to kill him.

  ? The packs of monsters noticed her presence as she rushed toward them, but she paid them no more attention than a flick of one wrist. A wave of white-hot flames danced out across the cobblestones of the street, incinerating the monsters and even the trees that lay in wait for unsuspecting travelers. Before the flames could properly fade, she’d slid to a stop at the dungeon portal and lunged forward, slamming it open with her shoulder.

  ? Inside, she found what appeared to be the ruins of a living room. A table and some chairs lay splintered against one wall, and armchairs with moldy upholstery sat before a long-dead fireplace. A pot hung over the soot, as if waiting to serve its purpose for new guests, wherever they may come from.

  ? “Grim!” She shouted, turning on the spot. She threw out her delver’s sense to try and find the boy, but she appeared to be alone in the structure. At least, until she felt an exceptionally powerful entity cross into her beam of perception.

  ? At first, she thought it was Grim, as it had the same silver hair and yellow eyes. But then she took in more details about his appearance, and knew it was someone different. Another delver, one who just happened to be in the city at the same time? Then she got a good feeling of his power, and she recoiled back half a step out of sheer instinct. His level was beyond her ability to sense. Sixteen plus… Maybe even as high as twenty. Whatever his true power, she was like a child before such a delver.

  ? The stranger made no move to attack. Instead, it looked at her with a warm smile. “Interesting. You’re late. Much later than Beldina predicted.”

  ? “Late?” She asked, confusion adding to the mix of fear and apprehension flooding her system. “I just got here. Where’s the boy?”

  ? The stranger appeared not to hear her question, but his smile did widen. “Oh, good one. Beldina told you to mess with me, did she?”

  ? Her confusion increased sharply, though her sense of danger did fade somewhat. This had to be some sort of illusion. She’d never encountered one that could produce the sense of a powerful being, but it certainly wasn’t impossible. She moved to take a step forward to get a better view of the space, then the stranger teleported right behind her. She dashed forward at once, landing on the opposite end of the room. It made no attempt to pursue her.

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  ? In a blur, he appeared to snatch something in the air, and then suddenly, he was holding a knife. She recognized the weapon at once as one of the pair Grim had gotten earlier that day. “You’ve got him! Give him back to me!”

  ? For the first time, the stranger appeared to acknowledge her presence, though he only flicked his golden eyes in her direction and shook his head slightly. Now anger joined the panic, and she summoned her quarterstaff. Real or not, level sixteen or not, she’d fight as hard as she could to save Grim from this shade.

  ? “Please, no violence in the house,” the specter said. It smiled at someone she couldn’t see–presumably Grim–then at her. “Blood is so hard to get out of the carpet.”

  ? She couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, she thought. She’d entered so soon after Grim had that she should have run right into him, but there was no sign of the boy. She stayed tense, watching the stranger move towards one of the armchairs and move the pot over the fire. At once, the fireplace burst to life with a merrily crackling flame, bathing the entire room in light. And with the light came a new room altogether.

  ? “Sit down. The tea will be ready soon.”

  ? Nonplussed, she watched as Grim appeared out of thin air, walking calmly towards the remaining chair. He sat down, and the stranger moved closer, returning the knives to the sheath. Was his plan not to kill the boy, then? Perhaps this was the dungeon’s emissary.

  ? But that couldn’t be right, she thought. This was a third-level dungeon. He was far too powerful. The stranger kept talking–at least his mouth continued to move–but suddenly the sound had gone, and she couldn’t make out what he said. Nor could she hear Grim’s replies, as the two had a short but obviously poignant conversation.

  ?? After a short while, the stranger poured two cups of tea and offered one to Grim. Every instinct of Veyra’s told her that this was dangerous, and, on instinct, she swung out at the cup Grim held with her quarterstaff, intent on smashing it. But her weapon passed through both cup and young delver, harming neither. Grim paused, glancing to the right. He looked *right at her*.

  ? “Grim!” She hissed. “Thank goodness! Don’t drink that!”

  ? But he looked away, as if he hadn’t heard her, and drank it. Cursing, Veyra unleashed her most powerful skills in the direction of the silver-haired stranger. Each of her attacks–flame, light, earth–passed through him without causing damage to the surroundings.

  ? “He will be fine,” the stranger finally said, looking at her again. She’d heard him that time. “Your concern is warranted, but aimed in the wrong direction. Be still, young delver. All will be revealed in time.”

  ? Then Grim fell limp, the empty teacup falling from his hand. The stranger moved forward at blinding speed, catching the cup with a deft hand, and stood upright, smiling in satisfaction. “Excellent. Now he’s out, I can explain.”

  ? “Who are you?” She asked immediately. Then, remembering her priorities, she asked, “What did you do to the boy?”

  ? “As I said, he will be fine,” the stranger said. “As for your first question, you may call me Evandross. I am… Grim’s ancestor, in a way.”

  ? “You’re named after this city?” She asked, frowning. There had never been a record of such a powerful delver in Evandross’ history, so he must be lying.

  ? “The other way around, I’m afraid,” Evandross replied. “I’m not quite alive, at least not in the traditional sense. I bound my soul to this, my ancestral home. I have appeared to and guided every generation of the Evandross bloodline since my death in Ninety-two.”

  ? “Ninety-two? As in the first Era? But it’s four-thirty-one.”

  ? “Yes. Nearly twenty years since this city fell to the dungeon floods. I can sense the suspicion in your heart, young delver. You do not believe that this was caused naturally.”

  ? “I don’t have time to bandy words with you,” she growled. “Did you poison him?”

  ? Evandross looked almost offended at the suggestion, but quickly smiled. “Of course not. I have fed him a rather high-level herb that induces a deep spiritual sleep. He is currently connected to his bloodline and will not awaken until after he has witnessed.”

  ? “Witnessed what?”

  ? “His history. From the first of our combined line to the very last. I would not be surprised if he were to witness the fall of this city itself.”

  ? Catching the look of horror that flashed over her face, he raised one hand. “Worry not. It is a necessary evil. He must know, so that he can act.”

  ? “A necessary evil is still an evil,” she retorted. Never before had she so wished that a glare could kill. ‘Wake him up. He’s here for a test, and nothing more.”

  ? “I’m afraid it is quite out of my hands now,” Evandross said, returning to the armchair. “But you are welcome to stay and watch over him alongside me. I can sense your intentions and know that you mean well for him. He will need guidance for his quest.”

  ? She froze at that last word. “Quest? You can’t possibly mean-”

  ? “Oh, I’m afraid I do,” he said, relaxing in his chair and taking a sip of his own tea. “He is to receive a Grand Quest. A quest for power, and knowledge, and, if what I suspect to be true is, of revenge.”

  ? Her mind racing, Veyra moved over to lean against the armrest of Grim’s chair. She put a hand to his forehead to check for signs of life, but once again she couldn’t make contact. “This has got to be the strangest dungeon I’ve ever encountered.”

  ? “I will take that as a compliment,” Evandross said, his smile widening. “I’ve always taken great pride in the dungeons I give life.”

  ? Grand Quests, bloodlines, and creating dungeons. Veyra remembered a book she’d stolen from the archives of the Grand Council of Guilds, some years back. It had been just after joining her guild. At the time, she’d taken what was described in its pages as mere fiction. It had a lot of information on the early workings of the world. Could it have some grain of truth to it?

  ? “You may as well make yourself comfortable,” he said, waving his hand. A third chair appeared before the fire, forming a triangle. She sat in it, knowing she couldn’t leave. “The boy will be in this state for quite some time.”

  ? “I know you’re a much higher level than me,” she told Evandross, balancing her quarterstaff across her knees. “But if he dies, I will make it my personal mission to return here when I am as strong as you. I will kill you and destroy this dungeon’s core.”

  ? “I admire your loyalty,” he said with barely suppressed laughter. “Fortunately, your job will be easier, as both are the same. I am this dungeon’s core. But you cannot kill that which does not live, I’m afraid.”

  ? “I don’t care,” she retorted. “I’ll find a way.”

  ? Then, seeing no other alternative, she fixed her gaze on Grim’s face and settled down to observe. If Evandross wished to kill either of them, he could do it faster than the blink of an eye. She had no option but to wait.