[Week One]
— Isabella Monforte, ‘Princess’ of the Monforte Family —
“Stick close, Young Miss,” Jon said, looking out for her safety as he always did. “I don’t like the look of this crowd.
Jon was a good man. Her father favored him. He was older, her father’s age. They’d grown up together, fought together through a changing world, and now, her father had entrusted the safety of his darling daughter to Jon.
Jon was like an uncle to Isabella. For all her father’s wealth and influence, he sorely lacked people he could trust completely. Their family had seen its ups and downs since the emergence of capes. The organization that her father had inherited from his father wasn’t meant for the quick-changing, more blatantly violent cape scene.
He adapted, though. He adapted and taught Isabella all he knew to prepare her to take his place at the head of the family. Their rackets and dealings had gone underground, slipping beneath the notice of Chicago’s newcomers for the most part.
They survived by falling back on old connections and by operating where the capes didn’t think to, so focused on the open, attention-attracting, conflict-seeking criminal activity that they threw themselves into. There, with the world watching, the capes dominated, but in the shadows, unpowered people and old families still ruled the Chicago underworld.
“I’m sure it’s fine, Jon. We’re all here for the same purpose, after all,” Isabella said, dismissing her unrelated uncle’s concern. “There shouldn’t be any overt hostility with the Dragon watching over us all.”
“So it should be, Young Miss, but I’ve seen many people do stupid and suicidal things,” Jon said. “I wouldn’t bet your health on men being ‘wise’.”
“They can’t be that bad,” Isabella laughed. “Truly, who would be so dull, so bold as to break the Dragon’s Peace?”
She walked through the Dragon’s fairgrounds with Jon and a few more of her father’s men whom she’d brought along for the ride. They would almost certainly be reporting back to Father, of course. This whole adventure of hers wasn’t exactly sanctioned by him, but she knew he knew where she was and what she was up to already.
Yet… Isabella didn’t truly care if she wasn’t being as sneaky as she first thought. This was an adventure, all the excitement and novelty she craved, and that was more important.
The Monforte Family survived by playing things safe, by keeping out of focus, and by relying on steady business. They’d just about gone clean, just in time for Isabella to have grown up in a different world from her father. When he was her age, she knew he was getting into trouble, having adventures straight out of an old mafia movie. By contrast, Isabella was… sheltered, and she desperately wanted to experience the world. What better way to do so was there than to experience wholly new worlds that the Dragon offered?
It wouldn’t be the youthful adventure of her father’s youth, Isabella knew; it would be something novel and new. The Dragon advertised fantasy and adventure, and Isabella had watched every preceding moment with rapt attention.
Now that she was here, ‘sneaking’ away from all her father had built and all he maintained, Isabella was struck by… wonder.
A whole world, recreated for the Dragon’s adventure. The air around her was fresh and warm. The sky was blue overhead, dotted with fluffy clouds. The space she’d entered had come alive with the chatter and movement of thousands out for the same adventure as her.
It was an idyllic scene. Isabella couldn’t get enough. Excitement bubbled in her chest, yearning to explore and experience as the Dragon offered. No fool would stop her from living this adventure as fully as she could.
As she, Jon, and the men took in the fairgrounds, they saw at least one person contradict Isabella’s certainty that people weren’t so stupid.
A cape she didn’t recognize, told apart from the crowd by their costume, tried to bully one of the Dragon’s workers. The worker was sitting in a fabric stall, a bar by the looks of it, and the cape came right up to snatch a bottle from behind the bar as if she already owned it.
She wasn’t even someone noteworthy — just common and dull for all her parahuman powers — but she sneered at the Corps’ barman like he was dirt on her costumed boot, “Do something about it.”
The barman, a blue-collar man used to hard times — Isabella recognized the look of him — just shrugged, “Okay.”
Something cracked. Something roared. In a blink, the cape found herself on the ground, dazed and looking up at the barman. The barman held the bottle that the cape had stolen.
“Don’t go stealing from the boss, girlie,” The barman said. “If ya wanna drink, get yerself some cash or some gold. Otherwise, the boss has already given me the power to slap any of ya powered freaks down a peg or two.”
The scene was witnessed by many. Isabella was sure the news would soon spread; this regular, blue-collar man had slapped down a cape as if she were nothing. Hopefully, it would set the scene and dissuade other idiots from challenging the Dragon’s generosity.
Isabella continued to explore the fairgrounds, walking with Jon and the others beneath a canopy of colorful fabrics. She kept her eyes peeled — wide open with wonder, really — and her head on a swivel, taking in all the new sights.
She almost squealed when she saw her first evidence of magic. Magic…! It was a simple demonstration, a small group of the Dragon’s workers putting on a show for all to see. The lead woman looked to be in her element, laughing and enjoying herself as she breathed fire like a Dragon, in an unnatural arc that then proceeded to take the shape of a Dragon, too.
The ones around her were following her lead, but looked more like a gang of men working the docks than a troupe of actors. It was clear that dockworking woman was the star of the show.
Isabella stopped to ask questions of the leading woman, “How are you doing that-?! Is it a spell? Can I learn? Can anyone? Did the Dragon teach you? Did he give you some kind of spellbook? Can I see?”
“Aye!” The woman called back, a big smile on her weathered face. “It’s a joy, isn’t it?! Figured it all out myself, ya know? Big Ancalagon helped with the awakening stuff, but after that, this was all me and the Circus — that’s my totem! Never thought I’d get the chance to bring my dream to life! Not much use for a classically trained actor on the docks, but with the Dragon? I’m thriving!”
“Wonderful!” Isabella exclaimed. “Jon? Jon, look! Isn’t it wonderful?”
“It is, Young Miss,” Jon nodded. “Don’t think me and my totem could do that, but I’ll bet you and le Fay could.”
Jon had awakened to a Stone totem, a steadfast Statue. It suited him, Isabella felt. She had awakened to Morgan le Fay as her totem and instantly found a kinship there, just as the Dragon promised.
“~Simple tricks. They are beneath royalty of our caliber, of course, but there is no harm in play,” Morgan le Fay said, singing in Isabella’s soul.
“Can you teach me?” Isabella asked aloud, heard by the flame-spitting actress, Jon, and Morgan le Fay.
“Sorry, love, I’m a bit busy at the moment,” The actress apologized. “Big Anc’ has me working this stage for the next few hours. Find me after?”
“~Or you could rely upon me, your partnered totem,” Morgan le Fay almost pouted; Isabella thought her new partner was adorable when jealous. “This is child’s play. A witchy babe’s first cantrip. Mummer’s tricks. I can show you so much more, Isabella of Monforte.”
“Oh!” Isabella listened to the voice in her soul and turned back to the actress. “Thank you for the offer, but I think my totem would get upset if I took you up on it before her. I won’t bother you anymore, ma’am; keep putting on your show!”
The actress laughed, “For sure! I won’t waste this chance! Tell people about my show, will you? The Circus and I are practically aching for an audience!”
As Isabella moved on, Jon spoke a request to her, “Young Miss, I understand your excitement, but I would ask that you temper it. Experimentation can be dangerous. If you harm yourself, I don’t think I could forgive myself.”
“Morgan le Fay wouldn’t hurt me,” Isabella waved, pushing forward in her determination to grasp magic now that it was available to her.
“~Never. You have potential, little one; I say that princess to princess. I can teach you the mysteries of the world, all its darkness, and all its light. Here: a taste. Follow the movement of my spirit; just so,” Morgan le Fay offered.
There was a… twist… beside Isabella’s soul; she didn’t know how she could feel or understand it so easily, but she could. Morgan le Fay wove a spiritual thread with experienced hands. It was a spark. Isabella could feel the sudden heat through Morgan le Fay, and she could follow the motions for herself.
The result was clumsy, but as they walked through the fairgrounds, a small blue-bell fairy flame appeared over her hand. Isabella held magic in her palm.
Jon praised her, even if he looked pained that she’d attempted it so suddenly. Morgan le Fay preened. Isabella dismissed the woven spell, struck by giddy wonder.
She, the young mistress of an out-of-fashion family, had just cast a spell. She’d reached for magic, and it had answered, coming to her with her totem’s aid. And that was only the start.
There was so much more waiting for her here in the Dragon’s Dungeon. Adventure, true adventure, so different from the routine life she’d left behind.
“What do you intend to do now, Young Miss?” Jon asked.
“I’d like to see more of this Fair first,” Isabella answered. “Then, I think I’d like to visit the city in the distance. We won’t be the first there, but that should be fine. I just wish to see what we can find. I want to explore, Jon. We’ve barely scratched the surface!”
“As you say, Young Miss,” Jon nodded deferentially. “We’ll follow your lead. All I ask is that you don’t try to run off on your own.”
“I won’t throw myself into such danger,” Isabella proudly scoffed. “I’m much more interested in the connections that can be made here. There are adventurers from all over the world, Jon. Many of them could be useful to the family, I’m sure. Let the capes default to their action and violence and conflict; as Father taught me, the real power lies in what you do with opportunity, how you do it, and who you do it beside.”
“How do you mean?” Jon asked.
Isabella didn’t answer him, instead calling out to someone she saw in the crowd as an example, “You! Hello, hello! I recognize you two! Madison, no? And Taylor? A pleasure to make your acquaintance! I am Isabella Monforte.”
By chance, she’d come upon two interesting individuals at the perfect time. Madison and Taylor, half of the First Dive’s adventuring party; Isabella had watched that stream VOD several times over at this point, dreaming of her own adventure.
The pair had shown themselves well, and they were instantly recognizable for the spidery mount they both rode through the crowd. Most were giving them a wide berth. Isabella was unafraid. A bit creeped out by the oversized arachnid… but not afraid!
Madison, Taylor, and the spider they both rode turned at Isabella’s call. They paused; Taylor, in particular, looked as if she couldn’t comprehend someone wanting to speak to her.
Isabella gave them her best smile. It was a rare thing that she got the chance to interact with regular girls her age without expectations. Her private school was filled with girls from other influential families in Chicago, and every day in it was something of a social battlefield.
“Whoa…” Madison muttered. “Hubba hubba. You seeing what I’m seeing, Tay?”
“No…?” Taylor half-said, half-asked. “That stylish and beautiful rich girl can’t be talking to us… right?”
Madison giggled, “Of course, she is! We’re famous now, remember? And we might not be rich, but I like to think I’m pretty stylish and you’ve got the beautiful part of that covered!”
“You could be a model,” Isabella nodded, firmly cutting herself into their conversation. “I doubt I’m the only one who has seen that now. Exposure is half the battle, and you’ve had plenty of exposure recently. You might be surprised at just how quickly fortunes can change, Taylor.”
“That-…” Taylor sputtered. “T-There… There’s no way-!”
“Thank you!” Madison threw her hands up in good-humored exasperation. “I saw her first, of course, but the whole world deserves to see what I see! Look at her, all tall and slender and striking!”
“Riding a spider also makes something of an impression,” Isabella tittered.
Taylor laughed, awkward but honest, “That I can understand, at least.”
“I hope I’m not being too bold, but I think I would like to be your friend,” Isabella said.
If she were not bold, others would certainly keep the two girls’ company to themselves. They were famous now and recognizable, too. Hot topics, even if Taylor didn’t seem to realize it: two of the relatively few adventurers who’d already had adventures in the Dragon’s Dungeon. Isabella wanted to monopolize them early, now that she’d been given the chance.
“You…” Taylor looked back at her, stunned. “You can’t just say that. Can you? Is that… actually how it works? Just ask to be someone’s friend? No games, no dancing around the subject and guessing how much you mean to someone and having them stab you in the back the moment you aren’t looking?”
“It really can be that simple when the person you’re trying to be friends with isn’t a complete bitch,” Madison confirmed, hugging Taylor from behind.
“We can take things slowly,” Isabella offered. “How about exploring the Fair together? Jon is good company, but he’s more an uncle-figure than a friend.”
Jon stepped forward at that and bowed to the spider-mounted girls, “Please take care of the Young Miss. As confident as she may seem, she doesn’t get chances like this often.”
“J-Jon-!” Isabella sputtered and blushed.
Smiling a bit more honestly after Isabella’s composure broke, Taylor glanced at Madison to gauge her opinion. Madison shrugged, “It’s up to you, Taylor. I’ll follow your lead. Could be nice to make a new friend, though, one without ‘Winslow’ strings attached, ya know?”
“Then…” Taylor hesitated. “Yeah, I think we can walk together. Did you have a destination in mind before you called out to us?”
“Nope~!” Isabella smiled. “I just want to explore! You could show me around! You two have already experienced the Dragon’s Dungeon, after all!”
“Not this part of it,” Madison giggled. “All of this is as new to us as it is to you.”
“Well… I may have gotten a peek or two while it was being set up,” Taylor said.
“Oh?” Isabella perked up at that information. “How so?”
“My, uh… My dad basically runs the DWA, and Ancalagon hired almost all of us into the Adventurer Corps full-time. I spent most of my free time last week in the Tower. We picked up some of Ancalagon and Jenevelle’s plans here and there,” Taylor answered.
Brilliant! Connections and new friends! Isabella was ecstatic and vindicated in her choice to call out to the girls.
“Do you have an idea for some fun adventure, then?” She asked.
“I heard there’s supposed to be jousting…?” Taylor said awkwardly, as if unsure of her own suggestion. “It, uh, could be fun.”
“I know nothing about jousting, but I am entirely down to learn!” Isabella agreed.
“Yeah, I could watch you knock people off horses with a big stick, Tay,” Madison commented, putting on an aloof air, a playful act as if Taylor would be performing for her amusement.
“You’ll cheer for me?” Taylor asked, turning to glance back at Madison.
The question was so earnest that Madison’s playful act evaporated into a brilliant blush, “Eep~! Uh… Yeah, I’ll cheer for you. Always.”
Isabella grinned to herself, watching their interactions. This adventure would be much more fun with friends.
Morgan le Fay seemed to think so, too, though she didn’t say it in so few words, “~Hmm, she will make an acceptable knight. And the lady beside her is already the student of a witch as great as I. These are commendable companions, Isabella of Monforte. You would do well to tie them to you.”
Isabella grinned to herself, only slightly smug, “Oh, I very much intend to.”
IIIII
— Amelia Claire Lavere-Dallon, Panacea —
“Freedom! Adventure!” Victoria cried, her arms thrown up and open, eager and dramatic. “And we even look the part! No stinky costumes for once!”
“Don’t go shouting through the streets when we don’t even know the name of the city,” Amy deadpanned. “But yes, it is good to actually use the adventuring outfits the Corps so kindly gave us.”
New Wave’s younger generation — Amy, Victoria, Crystal, and Eric — had immediately broken off from their parents upon arrival, after having made a beeline for the most interesting thing they could see on this new floor of the Dungeon; Victoria insisted, of course, and she had a way of getting even the parents to follow her lead.
Not that Amy was truly complaining. Ancalagon’s Fair and the monster-hunting wilderness around it would keep; she would much rather be among the first into the city, especially after experiencing just how real the Dungeon’s locals were from the Second Dive.
According to Ancalagon, they were animated memories, almost but not quite indistinguishable from the real people of the Age this instance was pulled from. When Amy had asked if they had souls, Ancalagon answered that their souls were one with the Dungeon’s burgeoning spirit in a sort of “Well, yes, but no” answer.
Just another reason the Dragon was bullshit. Amy didn’t even keep track of them anymore.
“Should we ask around for a guide or something?” Crystal asked.
“Bah! Where’s the adventure in that?” Victoria scoffed and grinned.
Now that they were in the city, they’d defaulted back to walking so they wouldn’t potentially attract the undue attention of the entire unfamiliar city, but Victoria didn’t seem to care much about that idea. She kept her feet about a foot off the ground in her excitement. People were definitely looking their way.
But for once, Amy could join her in hover-walking. Focusing her will through Isis, she stepped into the air and stayed there, matching Victoria’s flight. Her sister noticed with a grin and turned to fly backwards in front of her.
“See why I like it so much, now?”
“I’ve always seen that. If I could’ve joined you, I would’ve. Now, I can, and I am.”
“We’re making a scene,” Crystal chuckled. “I suppose I’m here for it.”
She joined them in hover-walking, and Eric was only a moment behind his sister. Now, the people they passed on the street stopped to stare. They didn’t gape and trip over themselves, though; their flying quartet was an interesting sight, but not much more.
Capes were normal for Earth Bet, but still rare. Not something every person saw every day. Here, magic was normal and common. The city around them reflected that, as did its people. None of the locals were flying as the four of them were, but the idea clearly wasn’t alien to them.
Magic was quickly becoming normal to her, too. Natural, with Isis always at her back. Hell, to fly as she was now, Amy had personally crafted the spell. Isis had helped, guiding her, but it was still Amy’s spell, repeatable, solid, and… well, magical.
It was a heady feeling, a high Amy was still riding. All made possible by Ancalagon, the Dragon who Turned the Age. As much as he frustrated and fascinated her in equal measure — she still hadn’t gotten the chance to touch him and peek inside — he had changed her life completely, and more for the better than the worse.
Without Ancalagon, none of this would’ve been possible. Amy would’ve been stuck in the hospital for another weekend, doing her duty and resenting it. Instead, she was now in a fantastical world, flying alongside her sister and cousins.
“It grows on you, huh?” Victoria asked, smirking.
“It really does,” Amy agreed. “I don’t think I’ll ever go back to just walking.”
“Welcome to the club,” Eric chuckled. “And thanks for the spell, Ames. You know how bad my flight is. I actually prefer your version.”
“So what are we doing here first?” Crystal asked. “I think I’m supposed to be chaperoning you three, technically, but I could be persuaded into just about anything.”
“We should probably get a lay of the land,” Amy said. “Learn the name of the city, learn about its people, and all that. Then, I think I want to find some place to learn more magic, too.”
“It’s a pretty big city,” Victoria commented. “I’d put good odds on there being some kind of magic school or something. We’ll get you a place in those ‘hallowed halls’, Ames.”
“Until we find it, though, I guess there’s nothing to do but start asking around!” Crystal chimed.
“Joy. Social interaction,” Amy deadpanned.
“Oh, Ames, babygirl,” Victoria sighed, putting on a dramatically concerned act. “Don’t worry. I’ll save you from the cruelties of — GASP! — Having to talk to people.”
“Just don’t go making us sudden pariahs,” Amy retorted, rolling her eyes.
“Pariahs?” Victoria faux-gasped in offense. “Never! Everyone loves me!”
To prove her point, Victoria wasted no time approaching some of the locals. She flew straight up to a stall on the side of the road, luxuriously dyed fabric hanging over a portable food cart. She worked her magic there on the nice-looking older lady who humored her.
Quickly enough, they learned the name of the city — Inceptium.
The cart lady said it was a name that spoke of new beginnings, of legendary origins, and of adventure born and borne. Fitting. But then, that was probably why Ancalagon chose this place for his ‘Level 1’.
She spoke ‘English’ — or maybe the Dungeon was doing the heavy lifting to translate — with an accent that tickled Amy’s ears. It sounded flowing, lilting, until her words came to harsh sounds that acted like percussion in the song.
She told them of the city like she was used to doing so. Inceptium was the city of beginnings, but not as a stereotypically fantasy ‘Starter Town’. No, it was the city that people came to to start their adventures. There was a difference, clearly, and the cart lady took pride in that difference.
Inceptium boasted a thriving adventure scene as one of the best places on the continent to test a new adventurer. The wilderness around them was populated by a great variety of monsters, and so, there were always hunting quests to go around for both locals and migrants. The city also boasted a magical university, one of the best in the world, according to the local woman.
Amy got the impression that this city was akin to a big-time college city for adventurers, a place to learn and grow and test oneself.
Those who came to it were primarily young and hopeful. Those who stayed were the ones who took pride in helping those young adventurers get their start.
Amy looked around at the city with new eyes. Now that she knew to look for them, the adventurers of the city were obvious and common. They carried weapons, wore armor, and partied up for whatever quest they’d taken that day.
The locals, meanwhile, were more laid-back, more used to the ever-present adventure of Inceptium. They wore semi-exotic clothes, a whole unique fashion formed by migrants from far and wide. Dresses flowed and robes were pinned, silk and wool. Jewelry gleamed, made from precious metals, gems, and beastly trophies. Armor caught the light, bronze and steel, along with sewn-in accessories of bone and teeth and scale.
They were also proud. Proud of their adventurers and their monsters, the legends that started here and the beasts that challenged them to survive and thrive. The monsters were a large part of Inceptium’s culture, shown in the abundance of monstrous loot that Amy saw being worn or sold or fashioned into something new.
There was meat, bone, skin, fangs, horns, scales, fins, and quite literally everything else under the biological sun; Amy’s power was in heaven just looking at all the biodiversity and novel adaptations she could see.
It almost made up for not getting to touch the Dragon. Almost.
Instead of being something to simply endure, the monsters around Inceptium offered unique opportunities to its people, opportunities that had clearly been exploited and turned into wealth. The city itself, streets and squares and structures, reflected that as much as the people who called it home.
They were paved with polished cobble. The buildings around rose with blended architecture; some bore harsh lines, and some bore flowing curves. Apartments rose around small but bustling market squares. Intricate stonework was patterned into mosaics of the land Inceptium claimed, complete with their revered monsters. Carved pillars of titanic bone held up a temple, filled with adventurers rather than the usual worshippers.
There was magic, too. It filled every aspect of life just as readily as the monsters.
Amy watched a woman in a second-story window summon water from thin air to do her laundry. She saw an old man riding a flying carpet, whittling a fang the size of his arm into a toothy speartip as he did. Some random stall on the side of the street hawked spell scrolls that would be worth a fortune on Earth Bet, but here, cost only a few weeks’ wages. A city worker used grand sweeps of his arm to paint an announcement without a brush on a prominently placed wooden board; people gathered around to read it and quickly grew fervently excited.
‘Team Leviathan vs. Team Brute Wyvern — Lagiacrus vs. Anjanath! Three tolls past noon at the Monstrorum Arena!’
… That sounded like a monster fight. She’d have to check that out after the magical university.
Everywhere she looked, Inceptium was thriving — alive and fantastical.
“Let’s check out that magic school!” Victoria eagerly declared, advocating for what Amy had already mentioned wanting to do.
“I don’t mind,” Crystal agreed. “It’s as good a place as any to start. We might be able to get some magical artifacts out of it, too!”
“Oh! I want a magic sword! It’ll go with my shields!” Eric exclaimed.
“Do you know how to wield a sword at all?” Amy asked.
“How hard can it be?” Eric shrugged.
“Historically?” She raised a brow at him. “People trained their whole lives with swords for a reason, cuz.”
Inceptium’s university was thankfully easy to find, even if they couldn’t fly up to spy it from above. It was a dome-capped complex near the northern side of the city, taking up a significant slice of the land. And if Amy thought the rest of Inceptium was wealthy and fantastical, she hadn’t seen anything yet.
The campus was open to the public, seemingly. As soon as they stepped beneath grand, sweeping arches, they saw young men and women immersed in their learning.
“Huh, it’s surprisingly familiar,” Crystal said. “I know I’ve sat out on the BBU’s quad just like that.”
“You probably didn’t do so while playing magical frisbee, though,” Amy said.
“You also probably didn’t commute to class on Dragonback,” Victoria added, giggling.
“Not for lack of trying,” Crystal shot back, audibly amused. “If I could get Ancalagon to give me a lift, I would in a heartbeat.”
“I don’t think those are, ya know, real Dragons? Not like Ancalagon. I can’t imagine him or Pyrite allowing themselves to be tamed. Wyverns, maybe?” Amy suggested.
Grand buildings rose in front of them, capped by gilded domes. The central structure was the largest in the whole city. At the peak, a magically holographic clock was projected. To either side of the central building, more domed structures almost built up to it. And between them, the campus was connected by a network of bridges, footpaths, and courtyards, all decorated with impressively realistic statues and other architectural marvels made possible by magic.
At just a glance, Amy felt she could tell apart the various castes that made up the university — from the still-learning Initiates to the rare, passing Archmage who must’ve helped run the school. It was in the varying levels of wealth they wore, the magic they casually used, and the undeniably harried expressions of the students compared to the certainty of the Mage professors.
“How do you think we get in on all of this? Do we have to enroll?” Eric asked.
“Maybe they’ll let us audit a class or two?” Crystal suggested.
As she said that, Amy saw one figure that stood out from the crowd. Isis marked him for her, too. He was an Archmage; he had to be looking like that.
He wore gold almost from head to toe, with robes of gilded thread, gold-highlighted armor atop the robes, and a startlingly striking mask of gold that obscured his whole head, ringing as some magical alloy to Isis’s senses.
Amy didn’t know what lay below, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was yet more gold, somehow.
“His,” She decided instantly. “I want to audit his class, whatever he teaches.”
“Daaaammmnn~…” Victoria whistled. “Dude is dripped out in the gold.”
“I don’t know, Ames,” Crystal hesitated. “He seems important. Would someone like that really be teaching classes that you could audit?”
The Archmage flowed over the ground, his feet never touching. Golden dust carried him as naturally as anyone else would walk or as naturally as Victoria would fly. He passed them without a glance. Amy couldn’t have that.
Not waiting for good sense to return to her, Amy hurried after the Archmage.
“~Worry not, I shall help you sway his interest,” Isis told her.
Amy felt something swell, a wave that immediately caught the Archmage’s interest by the way he paused. She remembered something then. Spirit Magicks came from Ancalagon’s Third Age. This ‘Level 1’ was supposedly pulled from his Second. With Isis’s help, Amy could give even this Archmage something he’d never seen before.
She caught up to him and channeled Victoria, standing with her hands on her hips.
She couldn’t shake the certainty that she was doing something very dumb right now, challenging an Archmage, but she didn’t let it stop her, either.
“I’m here for a week. Until I leave, I want to learn from you,” Amy declared.
Golden eyes peered back at her, piercing her soul. But Amy had stood before a Dragon’s gaze. She didn’t flinch.
“What… are you…?” The Archmage asked; his voice was the sound of molten gold.
“Your latest curiosity,” Amy insisted, calling upon confidence she really didn’t have. “Your new student, if only temporarily. You want some of this, Mr. Gold? I’ll need some quid pro quo.”
“Bold,” The Archmage said, a warning in his voice; he didn’t turn her away, though.
“How did you come to be here?” He asked.
“Dragon over yonder,” Amy waved vaguely in the direction of Ancalagon, the Fair, and the Dungeon’s entrance. “I’m with him. Not the only one with him, but the only one you need to concern yourself with.”
“Dragon…? A True one?”
“Ancalagon the White. He’s here with a whole goddamn quest of new adventurers.”
Amy couldn’t see his face, but she could hear the surprised blink in his words, “Yes… Yes, that would do it, whatever it is I am sensing from you. Ancalagon the White has come to Inceptium. This should be an… interesting week.”
“You have history with him?”
“Not personally, for which I am grateful, but I do know of his legend. Tell me, is the Grand Witch Belladonna with him?”
“She is. I call her Sensei.”
“My condolences. We were Initiates together.”
“She’s not that ba-…” Amy hesitated. “No, she really is that bad. But she’s been good to me, just like Ancalagon.”
“I see,” The Archmage nodded slowly. “You are well-connected. That would explain your boldness. I suppose there’s potential there and potential I can sense within you, too. I believe I can clear my schedule for such an inevitably eventful week. First, however, I shall need to test you.
“I am Balthazar, Archmage of Inceptium. I will test you as the Dragon is said to test unfortunate souls in whom he finds potential. All you need to do, prospective Initiate… is dodge…”
“Fuck-! Not again!”
IIIII
— Agnes Court —
“We can’t afford to waste time. Gather what information you can and find me an avenue to profit. However you do it, secure us the start-up funds to exploit this rich new market. I won’t have the Elite miss out on such an opportunity,” Agnes Court ordered, setting her courtiers to work as soon as they arrived in the city.
There was wealth and opportunity to be found here; Agnes Court could smell it.
But she wouldn’t be the only one noticing the potential. Ultimately, this was a race, and her chief rival in it was worryingly competent.
In terms of personal parahuman powers, Agnes Court would call herself outclassed by her chief rivals. Accord had his plans, plans that were rumored to turn the world around him, and Coil had some similarly potent Thinker power.
But beyond the leading match-ups, Agnes Court was confident in her forces.
Agnes Court had her personal cell of the Elite, members of Uppercrust’s cell who had been lent to her, and a few smaller Elite cells that’d come into the Dungeon as well. She had more capes at her disposal than Accord and Coil’s newfound open alliance, but of them, she could only fully trust her cell, half-trust Uppercrust’s borrowed capes, and rely upon her growing influence to keep the smaller cells in line.
Thankfully, and unfortunately, parahuman powers were no longer the only variables in the equation. The Dragon had freely handed out magic. All of her capes had awakened to it. But then, so had all of Accord’s Ambassadors and all of Coil’s mercenaries, too.
There were unknowns on the board now; everyone, essentially, had become something of an unknown, even herself. Spirits and totems made sure of that. But the game of profit and competing interests was still the same, even as it now played out on a whole new board with wholly new pieces.
The first thing she’d done upon reaching the city was find a place to set up her court. It sprang up due to her power and a bit of help from her totem, Titania.
“~A useful tool, the sprouting of structures from seed,” Titania praised her power. “I see you put it to good use. I can reinforce your structures, make eyes slide over them so none can peer within and give them eyes to see outward.”
Agnes Court agreed, letting her totem add to her work.
And so, atop an unassuming rooftop in the city, a seed of her power was nurtured by magic to become something more. Walls of ivy and stone sprang up, fortified from the start. A roof of so many sunlit leaves formed over her head.
Within, her court was luxuriously furnished, but in function, it took the shape of a war camp’s command center. There was a central table for her lieutenants to gather around, complete with a map of the city that magic filled out. Agnes Court took the chair at the head of the table, examining the city as the very structure housing her court came to see it through Titania’s eyes.
“What are we looking at?” Agnes Court asked, seeking her lieutenants’ thoughts on the matter.
For her own cell, Agnes Court preferred capes with utility; combat was always her secondary focus. One of her lieutenants was Whisperer, a small, mousy man — always twitching this way or that — with the power of hearing. Simple and unassuming on the surface, but that ‘hearing’ stretched over entire cities and came with the significant Thinker rating necessary to catalog everything he heard. When push came to shove, he could also act as a significant Combat Thinker with exceptional spatial awareness, his mental capabilities turned to tracking every little detail of a fight.
Whisperer stepped forward now, with a twitch of his nose; he’d partnered with a Rat totem, but he’d always had those mannerisms.
“I’ve got my ears out, milady!” He reported in his rapid-fire voice. “Lots of talk about something soon! Some regular event or another-! Could be good money in it!”
“That’s exactly what we need first: start-up capital,” Agnes Court nodded in approval. “Elaborate, please.”
“You know Constantinople’s chariot racing culture, milady?” Greensight asked — an odd segue in Agnes Court’s opinion.
“I know the concept of chariot racing from history, yes, but I’m not familiar with the details or whatever it is you’re referring to,” She said.
“Ah! W-Well, Constantinople, at the height of Byzantine power, lived and breathed chariot racing, milady!” Greensight explained, winding up with excitement as he did. “It kept the plebs in the Queen of Cities happy! And unhappy, often! The Chariot arena — the hippodrome! — Was the most important building in the city — in the world! — For many! Whole political factions formed around the teams, and when one team lost, their fans would almost certainly riot, and-!”
“That’s fascinating, Whisperer,” Agnes Court cut him off, gently but decisively. “But I do need you to get to the point.”
“Ah! Ah, sorry, milady! What I mean to say is, it sounds like this city — Inceptium, I hear! — Has a similar cultural phenomenon! They live and breathe monster-fighting games, pitting captured monsters from the wilds around the city against each other at the behest of taming and training teams!
“They’re ravenous for it, milady! I’ve already heard multiple fights break out over which team is going to win today’s games, and they haven’t even begun!”
“And you think we can use that to secure some start-up capital?” Agnes Court asked.
Whisperer nodded almost frantically, “Don’t know how, milady; I leave that part up to you! But I can hear the money in the air!”
Agnes Court nodded; she could too. That much… cultural enthusiasm for an event was bound to spark opportunity. Her court could set itself up as bookies, or use the distraction of the monster-fighting games for a spree of petty crime, or slip into the inevitable chaos that would strike the losing team and try to assert some sort of control they could then leverage as capital.
Of the three ideas that initially came to her, she leaned toward the third. Organized crime thrived in professional sports; they offered good legal streams of revenue, with the potential for less legal revenue, and good PR, too. Additionally, if the monster-fighting sport was as factious as Byzantine history implied, they may find themselves with nigh-zealous manpower in addition to start-up capital.
Of course, if the monster-fighting was as established and culturally ingrained as it sounded, there were good odds that the local criminal organizations — fantasy world or not, they existed, Agnes Court was certain — had already had the same idea as her. That was an issue, but one that could be surmounted with the forces at her disposal and enough daring.
Agnes Court preferred doing good business, but she wasn’t opposed to breaking a few eggs.
She knew her true rivals would be looking to set themselves up just like she was. The most ideal method for extracting profit from the Dungeon was a steady stream of Dungeon goods that couldn’t be found on Earth Bet, but that steady stream needed something to start it, and by local standards, both she and the alliance against her were broke.
Trying to predict Accord’s plans was an exercise in futility, even if they were undoubtedly as rushed as her own establishing efforts.
He would likely fall back on ‘speed-running’ a criminal syndicate here in Inceptium, just like her, though. It was the most expedient — and for people in their line of work, well-traveled — way to secure enough capital to get the true ball rolling.
‘What are the odds he sees the same opportunity I do and goes for it against me?’ Agnes Court asked herself.
“~Anticipate it,” Titania warned her. “I will not have my chosen partner being caught off guard. You have the Queen of the Summer Fae at your side, good lady; prepare yourself to manipulate events as a true Fae would. Prepare yourself to exploit any outcome.”
Agnes Court nodded to herself and to Titania. She turned back to her court; they were all watching her intently, waiting for her decision. From her own cell, Whisperer and her other lieutenants, to Uppercrust’s right-hand woman — a Thinker cape named Ice Queen, always cold and composed — and the various smaller Elite cells that were following her lead.
Together, they numbered nearly three dozen Elite capes, and the Elite didn’t accept useless or incompetent agents. It was a formidable force, one that would’ve been able to outright take over all but the most populated cities on Earth Bet. And they were all made more potent by the Dragon’s blessings for his proffered adventure.
They had classes and totems. The chance to grow further, now, too. The Dragon’s adventurer blessings might’ve been new to them, but with partnered spirits to guide them, they weren’t at all inaccessible.
In her court, Agnes Court assessed her assets and those her rival would be bringing to bear against her.
Accord’s power was well-known, as were his Ambassadors; the price of being so good at what he did. Coil was less known, but he was the only cape on his side of the alliance; the other forces he brought to the table were wrapped up in his company of well-equipped and professional mercenaries.
Addressing her court and its allied guests, Agnes Court began to lay out her plans. They likely wouldn’t survive contact with Accord’s plans. But then, Agnes Court was confident her court would be quicker to adapt than her rivals.
“We’ll be looking to this coming ‘monster fight’ to source our start-up capital and establish our foothold here,” She said. “Be warned: with how enthralled the city seems to be with them, it’s likely Accord and Coil’s attention will be drawn to the same. Here’s how we’ll counter them-…”
IIIII
— Missy Biron, Vista —
“This-! This is what Ancalagon calls ‘Level 1’?!”
A terrible roar split the air, shaking the very wilderness around them. The shout that preceded it came from Flechette. The New York Ward had good reason to be so incredulous and horrified in Vista’s opinion.
Vista, however, just laughed, “He’s not pulling any punches, huh?! That’s fine, we’ll just-! Aegis, DODGE!”
Vista’s callout came a moment too late. Their ‘prey’ caught her fellow Brockton Bay Ward between its jaws and shook with lethal intent, thrashing Aegis about until half the bones in his body must’ve snapped.
With a frantic twitch of her powers, Vista opened up space between Aegis’ body and the jaws that threatened to swallow him whole. Gnarly teeth were forced far apart. A startled half-roar, half-squeak echoed as Aegis fell to the ground.
“F-Fuuuuuucccckkk…” Aegis groaned from the ground, alive but not enjoying that life at the moment.
Vista held the space she’d grasped, but it was a struggle. She was running right up against her still-existent Manton Limit, messing with the space in a vicious maw. With a snap, the beast, acting on pure, primal instinct, closed its jaws on the effect her power wrought and seemed to eat it whole.
She flinched at the strange feedback from pressing so close to her Manton Limit. It was like a creepy crawler within her mind, looking to turn her brain inside out.
For all her magnificent new power, she still had limits. At least, on the parahuman scale, she did. Zeus, the arrogant King of Gods and Sky, seemingly slapped her power for daring to limit her.
Vista froze, even as the beast turned to bear down on her. That brief moment of parahuman power vs. Spiritual totem made her almost sick to her stomach as two pieces grafted to herself ground against each other. It was a costly hesitation.
Wrangling the sickness in her stomach — her mind and soul — Vista looked up to see teeth, teeth, and more teeth. Those terrible, slavering jaws opened wide to give her the Aegis treatment. Vista knew she wouldn’t survive it as readily as her friend had.
Then, Weld was there, the Ward from Boston throwing his metal arms into the closing teeth and holding them open with the strength and endurance of pure steel.
Vista grasped the space beneath her feet and the space beneath Weld’s. She threw them backward, clear of the rampaging monster. Its teeth snapped shut on thin air. It stumbled. It reared its head back and roared its challenge to the puny mortals that thought they could hunt it, the Voracious Devil.
“Isn’t… Isn’t this supposed to be something like a ‘Starter Zone’?” Weld asked, his voice quiet in a way that betrayed his metal form.
“What, you don’t think a T-Rex from evolution’s worst nightmares fits in a Starter Zone?” Vista joked right back.
The monster they’d found upon venturing into the wilderness of Level 1 was an apex beast, an unmatched and forever hungry predator. It stood on two legs with the massive and powerful body of a dinosaur, longer than a bus and taller than two stacked atop each other. Its head was the size of a car, and it had terribly drooling jaws to match. Even its tail was a weapon, thick and powerful and lined with bony spikes.
Vista absolutely hadn’t been looking for such a fearsome foe to be their first prey. Ancalagon had mentioned the monsters they could hunt, and while she’d admittedly been hoping for a dinosaur, she hadn’t been hoping for one like this.
“This was a terrible idea, Vista. Maybe the worst you’ve ever had,” Aegis said, picking himself off the ground; he jerked broken bones back into place as he did.
His battered body was already healing, much faster than just his power would allow. He had a healing factor, but not enough of one to be used in battle. That had changed with his awakening. He’d partnered with a Jötunn totem that made his parahuman biology truly superhuman — magical and mythological as much as it was biological.
“C’mon, where’s your fighting spirit?!” Vista called back.
“I think it’s on the ground over there with my appendix,” Aegis deadpanned.
“Well, stick it back where it belongs, then!” Vista ordered. “Whether you like it or not, we’re in for a fight! I’m not about to run from an overgrown devil chicken! I led us into this, and I’ll get us out with a trophy for the frickin’ ages!”
“… I like this new you, pipsqueak. You’re finally showing some real fire,” Shadow Stalker said; she ghosted to Vista’s side through the shadows.
“I’ve always had this fire!” Vista snapped. “I just didn’t have any chances to show it! No one would let me! Not until Ancalagon!”
Shadow Stalker, to Vista’s dismay, nodded, “I know the feeling. Looks like we’re more alike than I thought. There’s a chance for you yet.”
“… You’re still a bitch.”
“Pipsqueak.”
“Can we NOT right now?!” Flechette cried, interrupting their staredown.
The last member of the Ward Hunting party Vista had gathered around herself — it felt good to be a leader for once — was frantically fleeing the rampaging devil. It was a quick beast, much quicker than something its size had any right to be. Thickly muscled legs propelled it across the ground with distance-eating strides.
Flechette was just quick enough herself to stay ahead of the monster, channeling magic through her body with the rapidly increasing familiarity that only true danger could inspire.
She leaped into a tree and scrambled up its branches. The devil rammed straight into her escape route with its armored head. The monstrous charge toppled the tree.
Flechette fell from the high branches, desperately twisting herself as she fell in the hopes of a semi-graceful landing.
Mid-air, she turned her crossbow onto the devil behind her. A screaming bolt of death, half spiritual and half powered, shot toward her target. When it struck, it penetrated the devil’s thick hide and came screaming back out the other side of its body.
Vista reached out, grasping the sky around Flechette and pulling her through it to the rest of the group. The devil roared in pain. It roared in further frenzied rage.
“If we weren’t danger close, I’d ask you to nuke that atrocity and be done with it,” Aegis commented.
“Don’t take the pussy’s way out,” Shadow Stalker shut him down, completely earnest. “We need the hunt to test ourselves, to grow our strength.”
“That is certainly one way to look at it,” Weld said.
Shadow Stalker fired back, “The only right way in the Dungeon.”
“Look, I like the idea of getting stronger as much as the next girl,” Flechette panted. “But couldn’t we have started things off a bit slower?”
“That’s my fault, I think,” Vista admitted. “I led us straight into its territory. I was wondering why this part of the forest felt so… lifeless.”
“I suppose we found the culprit,” Aegis said. “Now, we just have to kill the culprit before it kills us. And eats us.”
“Other way around,” Shadow Stalker scoffed. “A predator like this will eat you alive. Killing you first would just waste time and energy. You’ll die in pieces and screaming, especially you, Aegis.”
“Joy. What a pleasant mental picture,” Weld deadpanned.
Aegis smiled, a pained thing, “… I think I have my new worst fear. Thanks, Shadow.”
Shadow Stalker’s face was obscured by her mask, but it was pretty clear from her posture that she rolled her eyes, “Just kill it first. Duh.”
The devil was circling them slowly now, wary after the bolt Flechette had put straight through it. Vista kept a close eye on it as they spoke, but she really didn’t have to. Shaking ground marked its every step.
It was a predator, hungry and vicious. Vista wouldn’t put it past the devil to have hunted humans in the past. It was certainly acting as if it knew their type of prey. It saw their conversation as a distraction, an opening.
Slowly, it turned in on its circling path. Then, like a released spring, it accelerated at them in a charge. Vista reached for the space beneath it and pulled. The devil lost traction suddenly, tripping over its own massive bulk.
Shadow Stalker moved to capitalize immediately, not hesitating to abandon their conversation. She leaped at the fallen beast. The roar of big cats and the howl of wolves followed her through the air.
She disappeared in her power’s shadow for just a moment. When she rematerialized, she had fur and claws and lycan strength. Vista had seen Shadow Stalker’s testing last week — her new werewolf hybrid transformation — but it was still a scene that sent a primal shiver down her spine.
Crossing the distance in a single, predatory leap, Shadow Stalker sank wild claws into the devil T-Rex. They slid off its leathery hide but found purchase in its eye. The devil screamed.
“Fuck…” Aegis sighed. “That girl…”
Vista was only a moment slower than Shadow Stalker, not looking to be shown up.
“Weld! Cannonball!” She came up with the combo attack on the fly, but Weld was quick enough to pick up her intentions.
He gave her a quick nod and pulled himself into a ball. Vista pinched the space behind him, drawing it back like a bowstring. He went flying when she let loose.
A ton of steel teenager slammed into the writhing, screaming devil. Weld left an actual dent in the monster’s ribcage. The moment he found his feet, he began to push with the strength of grounded steel and the giant, spiritually bronze weight of his totem, Talos.
Under Weld’s parahuman strength and spiritual leverage, the devil rolled on its side. Shadow Stalker was dislodged from its eye. It looked like she was already itching to get back into the gory action.
Flechette struck before she could, though. Her totem, Hou Yi, was a divine archer from Chinese myth, one who shot down the sun ninefold. For him, in the prime of his legend, a devil like this would’ve been nothing, but Flechette only channeled his power.
Her crossbow sent spellbolts from legend into the devil without bothering to reload. They stitched a line of through-and-through holes across its body as it rolled.
The devil got its feet under it. It thrashed, throwing Weld away with a tailstrike. Weld remained grounded, his feet carving furrows into the forest floor. He looked so small in front of the raging monster, steel skin gleaming in the light through the leaves.
With a moment to breathe, the devil glared at them. Vista didn’t know a T-Rex was capable of glaring, that hungry hatred.
Shadow Stalker took the glare with a growled challenge. Flechette and Weld flinched slightly but stood strong. Vista glared right back at it. Zeus, King of the Gods and Sky, was at her back. How could this slavering beast dare…?
Stormy arrogance built within her soul. It was a roiling spiritual cloud, pulled directly from her totem. Vista grasped it within herself, the raging sky.
Wounded but still standing, the devil raised its head to roar defiance. Zeus… no, Vista wasn’t having any of it. She brought the storm in her soul into the space she could grasp high above. It was realized within the domain of her power, within the sky of her spirit.
Spiritual turbulence shook space itself. From its core, a bolt of lightning fell with Vista’s fury.
The thunder was instant, a roar to match the devil’s. The lightning still struck first. It silenced the devil so her thunder could reign supreme.
Vista could see its bones, power raging through its monstrous flesh. For that electric instant, her domain surpassed petty Manton Limits. She knew every atom within the devil. She knew how weak it was to lightning. She knew how it hurt.
The devil fell, razed to its core. It was still alive, barely, a testament to its monstrous endurance and vitality, but it wouldn’t be for long.
The Wards with her just watched as Vista stepped through space to stand before the fallen devil.
“Knife,” Vista ordered as she passed Shadow Stalker.
“… Wha-?” Shadow Stalker was just as stunned as the others, but to her credit, she didn’t deny Vista’s orders; she recognized the show of strength and how outclassed she was. “R-Right. Knife. Here. You’re… doing it with your own hands…?”
Vista accepted Shadow Stalker’s knife, a military-grade K-Bar that she absolutely shouldn’t have had. She inspected it and grasped it with her power. The blade stretched as she willed it to, and the edge shrank down to a single molecule, long and sharp enough to take the devil’s head.
“I said we’d be taking a trophy for the ages, didn’t I?”
The devil was twitching when she reached it. But even now, Vista could see the rage and hunger in its remaining eye. If it still could, it wouldn’t hesitate to devour her alive.
She raised her power-manipulated knife to the devil’s neck. She looked the voracious nightmare in its eye as she moved to make the final cut.
Then, abruptly, she didn’t get the chance to claim her kill.
A beam of blue light sped into the corner of her vision, punching through the fallen devil’s skull and killing it instantly. Immediately, Vista went looking for the source. She found a figure flying nearby, coming in from overhead now that her storm had cleared. She hadn’t noticed him in her domain while she’d been caught up in her victory. Now, though, she snapped.
“Who the frick do you think you are?!”
The guilty party came into view and paused as if stunned by the very question, “… Eidolon? Vista, right? Don’t worry, that monster can’t hurt you anymore. You Wards really should be more careful here; we don’t know all the threats the Dungeon has to offer yet.”
Eidolon… Eidolon had stolen her kill, and he seemed to think he was in the right to do so, that he was the undeniable hero here, that Vista should be thanking him for looking out for her safety.
Vista’s eye twitched.
Zeus roared with indignation within her soul.
She was a moment away from repeating her performance with Hookwolf; she’d already found the atom she would split right in front of Eidolon’s stupid helmet.
She forced herself to stop and take a breath, “Eidolon? That was my kill. You stole it. You stole rightfully earned experience from me.”
“I’m… sorry…?” Eidolon’s face was concealed, but every part of him screamed pure confusion.
“You should be.”
“I-… Wait, no-… what?”
Her fellow Wards joined her side, standing up to the world’s strongest hero and his presumptions with her.
“That was pretty fucked up, Eidolon,” Shadow Stalker said.
“Not cool,” Weld nodded.
“We had it handled,” Aegis laid a supporting hand on Vista’s shoulder. “Vista had it handled.”
“Y-Yeah!” Flechette nervously added. “I-I think you should apologize! Like, for real!”
“But… I just saved you from… some nightmarish T-Rex monster…?” Eidolon said, visibly trying to wrap his head around the fact that the situation was not what he thought it was.
“I can and will argue the opposite. In court. Dungeon court. The Dragon’s Court,” Vista shot back. “We’ll see what Ancalagon has to say about all of this.”