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This is an absolute nightmare, Kabru thought to himself.
The space he was trudging through was dark and misty and smelled of mildew with an undertone of rot. The only visible light came from two small, floating orbs that emitted a silvery white glow. One floated by his side, casting enough light to guide his steps and little more. The other was only a few paces ahead of him, but it was hazy and half-obscured by the yellowish gray fog. From the way Kabru’s footsteps echoed back at him from weird angles, he was pretty sure he was in a large, irregularly shaped cavern, but the walls and ceiling were all completely hidden in the dim haze.
His shoulders ached under the weight of his pack, which felt twice as heavy as it had during his adventuring days, though he knew that if anything he was carrying less than he had then. He’d been outfitted with new clothes and armor just for this trip, and he was grimly sure that everything had already been ruined. His boots were soaked through, the wet leather rubbing painfully against his clammy feet in a way that was sure to form blisters. The cuffs of his pants were sopping and stained from wading through stagnant puddles. While the water had only come up to his ankles, all the rest of his clothes were also surprisingly damp from the moisture that hung in the air and dripped from the cave ceiling. Everything he was wearing clung to his body unpleasantly. He felt tolerably warm while he was moving, but the air around him was cool and growing colder by the minute, and he worried a chill would set in as soon as he stopped. Worse yet, for minutes, maybe hours, he had been on edge, seized by a queasy certainty that something was watching him. He’d been told the trip would be short, simple, and safe. Like a fool, he’d believed it. He should have known better about venturing back into a dungeon.
Why in the world did I agree to this? he wondered. As if the answer wasn’t abundantly clear.
A few paces ahead of him, a shock of silver hair glinted in the light of the second glowing orb, traces of light reflecting off wiry arms encased in spider silk armor and slender legs clad in an armored skirt and thigh-high leather boots. Mithrun of the House of Kerensil, former captain of the Canaries, current freelance dungeon investigator and—implausibly—part-time trainee noodle shop employee, was barely visible through the darkness and fog, but Kabru knew he was striding through the dungeon with purpose, confidence, and maddening grace. It was all Kabru could do to try to keep up with him.
Normally, there would be no reason for Kabru to be in a dungeon with Mithrun. These days, the ex-captain had a hired assistant who usually accompanied him on dungeon exploration trips. She was a young gnome with advanced training in both hand-to-hand combat and nursing, uniquely qualified to fight monsters alongside him and also make sure he ate and slept properly on expeditions. She idolized Mithrun and approached her work with a single-minded determination that sometimes reminded Kabru of her boss. Unfortunately, although she generally seemed to have normally functioning desires, she shared Mithrun’s total lack of drive for self-preservation and was constantly putting herself in danger with unflinching indifference. As a result, she was currently bedridden at home, recuperating from a nasty bicorn bite under the care of her frantic partner, and Mithrun was temporarily without his aide.
Once Mithrun was sure that his valued companion would make a full recovery, he had taken her injury in stride. When reports filtered into the royal court that a new natural dungeon had opened some leagues from the castle, Mithrun had casually announced to Laios and his advisors that he would explore it on his own. Kabru had nearly exploded, protesting that Mithrun couldn’t undertake a dangerous, multi-day expedition with no support. Mithrun, completely unmoved, replied that he needed to visit the new dungeon and had nobody else he could bring on short notice. When Kabru refused to back down, Marcille had eventually suggested, with a twinkle in her eyes, that maybe Kabru should accompany Mithrun himself. Kabru had been poised to object that he’d given up adventuring, but Mithrun had shrugged and murmured, “That would be acceptable.” Faced with the choice between dragging himself back into a dungeon and worrying that he’d let the fearless and directionally challenged elf saunter off to die alone, Kabru had reluctantly agreed. He knew he couldn’t offer much in the way of monster fighting assistance, but at least he could make sure Mithrun didn’t neglect himself to death.
He was now regretting his choice intensely. They’d just entered the dungeon that afternoon. While it was hard to gauge the passage of time while tramping through dank caverns that had never seen sunlight, Kabru was pretty sure it wasn’t even dinner time. And yet, he felt like he’d been walking for days and had aged several years in the process.
He had come along to look out for Mithrun but, curse the dungeon, he could barely even keep an eye on him. For one thing, Kabru had spent most of the trip so far staring down at his own feet, making sure he didn’t trip over stray rocks and other debris that, in the eerie low light, looked unpleasantly like scattered bones. Besides that, Mithrun had been some ways ahead of him almost since they arrived. The elf rarely looked back or called out to him, but he also never disappeared from view entirely. Kabru had an annoying suspicion that the former Canary captain was trying to go easy on him.
“Captain, it’s getting late. We should look for a place to make camp.”
The voice echoing through the dismal cavern sounded much livelier than Kabru felt, but it prompted an immediate response from Mithrun.
“Tired already?” the elf droned. “You’re out of practice, Kabru.”
Kabru looked up from the ground with a start.
“Wait, Captain!” he cried. “That wasn’t me!”
Kabru glanced around hastily and was shocked to find himself face to face with… himself.
Something that looked like Kabru stood a couple of paces away from him. The double was partly obscured by the darkness and fog but, as far as Kabru could make out, it was a near-perfect likeness. There was just one clear difference: for some reason, it was wearing his old adventuring gear—the clothing and armor he’d worn when they fought the demon—not the new outfit he’d gotten for this trip. As Kabru watched in confusion, the apparition spoke again.
“Ignore that, Captain,” it called out. “It’s probably just an illusion. You need to rest, so let’s stop for the day. I can make us some dinner, then help you fall asleep.”
The thing’s voice was calm and soothing, almost cheerful in a way that Kabru could never imagine sounding in a miserable place like this. But other than the inaccurate tone, it sounded just like him too. Kabru felt panic begin to rise in his chest.
“What the hell!” he shouted. “I’m not the illusion, that thing is!”
But the other Kabru was still talking.
“Captain, remember how I promised to take care of you….”
The apparition was facing towards where Mithrun was, gazing into the fog with a soft smile and speaking in its oddly placid voice. Kabru watched in dismay. If this was a shapeshifter, did that mean this was how Mithrun saw him these days? It was better than the insulting non-likeness from soon after they first met, but did he ever actually wear such a silly expression, or was that a new inaccuracy? As Kabru’s mind raced, the imposter turned towards him and its face contorted into a glare.
“You,” it growled, “back off. The captain is mine.”
Kabru eyed the creature and tried to remember what he knew about shapeshifters. He knew that some parties struggled to fight them because they couldn’t tell the doubles from the real thing, but it was fine to kill them if he was sure who was who, right? Where were the vital points on a creature that could change shape at will? Did their insides take on human form? Did it depend on how well the observer knew anatomy? Regretting zoning out while Laios rambled about monsters at official meetings, Kabru kept his eyes fixed on his double and unsheathed his sword.
“Look out, Kabru, that’s a monster.”
The tone was flat, distinctive in its near-complete lack of emotion. Kabru looked towards the voice and saw Mithrun dashing out of the fog. Even in his confusion, Kabru couldn’t help but notice how impressive he looked. His good eye was narrowed and his thin lips were set in concentration. Under the dull gold of his spider silk skirt, his slim, muscular legs looked tense and ready to spring at the monster. He was wearing a tallman-sized shirt too big for his small frame, just like he had been at the end of their time in the last dungeon. Kabru moved towards the advancing elf as if by instinct. Mithrun looked especially attractive dressed like this, he realized idly. A tiny voice at the back of his mind wondered when the elf had found time to change shirts without him noticing….
“Kabru, look out, that’s a monster.”
A second call sounded from the fog, almost as expressionless as the one he’d just heard, though perhaps with just a hint of calm urgency. The patter of running footsteps echoed through the cavern. Closer to Kabru, the approaching elf paused when he heard the call and turned towards the sound, a look of frustration on his face. Then, suddenly, he let out a horrible, strangled noise and clutched at his heart.
To his shock, Kabru realized that the broken-off tip of a stalagmite had appeared lodged in the center of the other man’s chest, running him through completely. Blood spread rapidly from the wound, soaking his loose, white shirt. Pale fingers scrabbled uselessly at the makeshift weapon for a few seconds, then went slack as the elf’s small body fell to the ground.
Kabru gave a panicked shout and was beginning to run towards the fallen man when a pale form surged out of the fog.
It was Mithrun.
Kabru was immediately sure that the newcomer was the real Mithrun. For one thing, shapeshifters probably couldn’t use teleportation magic. But beyond that, with the two versions side-by-side, he clearly saw the wounded duplicate for what it was. The real Mithrun was dressed in his usual dungeon exploration gear, no oversized shirt, with the glowing orb that he’d summoned to light his way hovering close by his side. If anything, he moved with more ruthless elegance than the imposter had. He cast a quick, cold glance at the copy of himself lying crumpled and still on the floor. Then, apparently satisfied that that threat had been dealt with, he turned to look intently at Kabru and his double.
“Captain!” Both versions of Kabru called out almost in unison. But while the fake Kabru still wore a vapid smile, the real one was sure his face was contorted in distress. He held up his hands in front of himself in something like a futile gesture of surrender.
Mithrun was deftly stooping to touch a fist-sized rock on the floor by his feet. Kabru knew what was coming next and knew that it was too late to stop it. He could only brace for possible impact as the rock blinked out of sight, hoping Mithrun could tell him apart from his double and that his unpredictable aim would be reasonably accurate this time.
Kabru felt a wave of relief when the rock reappeared embedded in his double’s forehead rather than his own. The relief was quickly replaced by horror, though, as he watched a monster that looked and sounded almost exactly like him shriek in pain and collapse on the cave floor.
Mithrun, meanwhile, had kept moving as soon as he teleported the rock. He reached Kabru’s side with a few rapid steps and grabbed the sword from his hand. Then, without hesitation, he leapt towards the writhing apparition and sliced its head clean off. The monster gave a last silent convulsion as it died. Kabru hastily turned away, feeling nauseous.
“Well,” Mithrun intoned, “that’s taken care of.”
Kabru glanced at him, carefully avoiding looking at either of the dead duplicates.
“Thoroughly taken care of,” he replied with a weak smile. “Thanks. And I’m sorry I didn’t do more to help. I got so caught up in in thinking about how to fight them, I never even got an attack in before you took them out.”
“It’s not a problem,” Mithrun said solemnly, wiping Kabru’s sword on his fallen double’s clothing before handing it back to him.
Kabru wasn’t surprised that Mithrun didn’t smile back at him—the elf didn’t smile much, after all. But he was slightly disconcerted to see how serious his face looked.
“Is something wrong, Captain?”
Mithrun’s good eye flicked from Kabru to the dead monsters and back. Then he shook his head.
“It’s fine,” he said flatly. “That was just a surprise.”
“Fair enough,” Kabru replied. He’d been wondering if he’d gone soft after too much desk work but felt less bad about being freaked out if even the hardened former Canary captain found it unsettling. “Shall we keep going?”
Mithrun nodded. “Just a bit longer. Based on citizen reports about this dungeon, there should be a place where we can camp not far from here.”
“I don’t need to stop yet,” Kabru insisted, resolutely ignoring his sore shoulders and soggy feet and the fact that his heart was still racing from the encounter with their doubles. “It was the monster that said we should make camp.”
“I know, but it was a useful reminder. There’s no reason we need to push too hard today.”
With that, Mithrun turned and began striding further into the foggy darkness of the cavern. Kabru rushed after him to catch up.
They walked in silence for some time, Mithrun’s gaze fixed on the mist in front of them, Kabru’s mostly on his feet. The quiet between them felt vaguely uncomfortable to Kabru, but he struggled to pinpoint why. They had walked without speaking sometimes in the old dungeon too. Though, of course, they hadn’t known or particularly liked each other when they first fell into that dungeon. That thought jogged Kabru’s memory, and he smiled as he broke the silence.
“So, Captain. You’ve learned what I look like, huh?”
“Of course I know what you look like,” Mithrun replied stiffly. “But why do you mention it?”
“I just remembered the shapeshifter we met in the old dungeon. Compared to my double then, this one looked much more like me.”
“Oh,” said Mithrun.
Hurrying along half a pace behind him, Kabru could just make out the edge of the elf’s mouth bent into a small frown. Surely Mithrun wasn’t offended by mild teasing? He’d seemed completely unbothered by Kabru’s indignation when they encountered the first shapeshifter. Kabru was just pondering whether he should ask what was wrong or maybe apologize when Mithrun let out a low sigh.
“Kabru,” he said slowly, “those monsters I just killed weren’t shapeshifters.”
“They weren’t?” Kabru asked in surprise.
Mithrun shook his head grimly. “They were succubi.”
“What.” Kabru was so stunned he briefly stopped walking, then hurried forward again as he saw Mithrun fading into the fog ahead of him. As he caught up, he panted out, “But they looked exactly like us!”
“Not exactly. And not because they were inaccurate copies. That’s part of how I can tell.” Mithrun glanced back at Kabru, and his lips ticked up in the tiniest of smirks. “The borrowed tallman’s shirt, huh?”
Kabru remembered Mithrun’s double appearing out of the fog—strong, lithe, quick to protect him, dressed in a stupidly attractive oversized shirt that he definitely hadn’t been wearing when they entered this dungeon. He let out a mortified groan.
“I see.” Kabru could feel his cheeks burning. Should he try to explain? Really, there wasn’t much he could say to defend himself. After a moment of silent humiliation, he decided instead to try to change the subject. “Why was there a double of me, though? Was it just part of the illusion, or—”
Mithrun stopped walking so abruptly that Kabru nearly ran into him. He turned to face the tallman and fixed him with the most intensely unimpressed look Kabru had ever seen.
“Not a double. A succubus that took your form.”
Kabru looked at him in bafflement. “Okay, sure. But why?”
Mithrun frowned. “Whatever the king pays you to advise him, it’s too much.” He stared at Kabru irritably for a moment, then added in a low voice, “That was the first time since I was dungeon lord that a succubus has tried to attack me.”
“And it looked like me?” Kabru asked incredulously. “In my grubby old adventuring gear? Offering to cook you some lousy food and rub your feet until you doze off?”
“Apparently, yes. I was so shocked I beheaded it, even though it was already dying.” Mithrun spoke matter-of-factly, but his pale cheeks were brushed with pink. “It appears I can, in fact, develop new desires.”
“And that’s what you desire?” Kabru blurted out.
“Why is that implausible to you?” Mithrun asked. “I thought people generally considered you to be charming and attractive.”
“Well, yeah. Or at least, I hope so. But you never seemed to care about that at all. I gave up on charming you pretty much as soon as I met you and just did whatever felt natural.”
Mithrun looked thoughtful. “I think that’s what I like,” he said after a moment. “I see how you are with other people. You’re a clever strategist and a talented actor, but with me I don’t feel like you’re performing. And you treat me decently and take care of me, I guess because that’s who you are.”
“It’s just what anyone would do,” Kabru protested.
“It isn’t,” Mithrun said firmly. “I’ve been cared for by others for decades, and I’ve usually been mocked or neglected or looked down on. You were never like that. You trusted my judgment, asked about my past, and tried to figure out my needs when I didn’t even know them myself. You helped me start to feel like a whole person again. And apparently now I desire you. It must have come on gradually, because I didn’t notice until I saw the succubus. But now that I know, it feels right.”
Kabru shook his head in disbelief. “How can you talk about this so calmly?”
Mithrun shrugged. “I have no desire to be aloof or careful. Anyway, it seems you like me too. Unless you only find me attractive in tallmen’s clothing?” He sounded genuinely curious now, which was somehow worse than the earlier smirk.
“Um, no, I always think you’re attractive.”
“How odd,” Mithrun replied, absently touching the end of one of his ragged ears.
“It’s not odd at all!” Kabru cried. “You’re one of the most beautiful people I know. But it’s not just about that. You’re strong and decent and determined and passionate. You act detached, but I could see as soon as we started talking that you had strong feelings about your past, your family, your squad, and all the people who might be hurt by the dungeon.”
“I’ve never thought of myself as passionate,” Mithrun intoned. “I just do what’s necessary.”
“Oh?” Kabru raised an eyebrow. “Most people don’t think it’s necessary to rampage through dungeons and slay monsters to keep the public safe. Most people probably wouldn’t have thought it was necessary to protect me when we fell into the old dungeon, either.”
“Hm,” Mithrun muttered. “Maybe I just liked you.”
“You didn’t then,” Kabru retorted. “I saw that shapeshifter!”
“Okay, maybe not. All I’d seen at that point was you plotting to keep my squad out of the dungeon, and I have no interest in that kind of carefully managed intrigue. The succubus got it slightly wrong, too, acting calmly selfless. You’re much more appealing when you’re messy and uninhibited, shouting about how you hate monsters but still venturing into dungeons to help people. Like right now.” Mithrun looked at him intently. “You’re a brave and good man, Kabru.”
“Captain….” Kabru found himself almost speechless.
“And you have lovely eyes, and I really like it when you rub my feet,” Mithrun continued as if he was just discovering these things himself.
“Captain!” Kabru’s eyes widened. He was used to pursuing potential partners himself, or occasionally deflecting halfhearted overtures from Rin. To have Mithrun unabashedly compliment him came as a shock.
Mithrun stepped towards him with the faintest of smiles on his face.
“And it’s cute how you still call me that, even though you know I’m retired.”
Kabru was so flustered he couldn’t even respond. His mind buzzed, trying to take stock of the incredible situation. Cool, stoic Captain Mithrun was smiling at him, praising him, moving towards him slowly but seemingly unstoppably as Kabru stood frozen in place. Could this somehow be another apparition? But apparitions wouldn’t be able to do the captain’s magic, he reminded himself. Could the whole incident have been an illusion? Could he have fallen under a spell or inhaled some hallucinogenic mushroom spores without noticing? Was he about to be devoured? If so… did he have any desire to resist?
Then Mithrun reached out, set a slim hand on the back of Kabru’s neck, and pulled him down into a kiss, and the tallman’s racing brain ground to a halt.
The kiss was indisputably real. The hand on Kabru’s neck twined deftly through his hair. Mithrun’s dark eyes were closed. His lips were dry but softer than they looked, surprisingly gentle for someone who killed men and monsters without flinching. Everywhere their skin touched, Kabru felt a subtle thrill from the powerful magic that ran through the elf’s body. Kabru sighed, relaxed, and kissed him back.
When Mithrun pulled away, he wore a delicate smile. The glowing orbs of the two illumination spells he had summoned were slowly circling the two men, and the light glinted off Mithrun’s uneven, jet-black eyes. All Kabru could think was that he looked unbelievably beautiful. Wrapping his arms around Mithrun and holding him close, he kissed his silky hair, his pale cheeks, the ragged edges of his ears.
“Captain,” he murmured again, his voice thick.
“Are tallmen always this silly and sentimental?” Mithrun asked in a tone of mock annoyance, winding his arms around Kabru’s waist and burying his face against his shoulder.
“I’m not usually this silly and sentimental,” Kabru replied, holding his tighter “This is all your fault.”
“I see,” the elf said seriously. “I accept responsibility.” He dislodged himself from Kabru’s hold, but immediately grabbed his hand. “Come on, we’re tired and soaked through from the damp. Let’s find a place to camp, start a fire, and dry off.”
“Alright,” said Kabru.
“Oh, and also,” Mithrun added, looking down at his tunic, which was streaked with grime and flecked with red, “I seem to have gotten monster blood on my gear. Do you happen to have a shirt I can borrow?”
He looked back up at Kabru with a knowing smile.
Kabru blinked at him for a second, then grinned. “Of course, Captain.”
Mithrun nodded, turned, and started walking, fast but not uncomfortably fast, towing Kabru behind him by the hand.
This is like a dream, Kabru thought to himself as he scrambled further into the murky dungeon after Mithrun.