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“Are you an assassin?”
Alastair raised an eyebrow under his hood at the woman in the yellow dress with blue flowers.
“Why do you assume that’s my class?” he asked in a monotone voice.
The woman drew circles in the dirt with her white staff that had an opal embedded in its triangular head. “Why else would you be completely covered in black robes?” she sounded genuinely confused.
He raised his black staff with an onyx gem in the center of a rounded head. “Why would an assassin carry a staff?”
“Why would a mage hide their face?”
“Someone who doesn’t want to be seen.” he growled, making her flinch.
She took a few deep breaths. “Okay, let’s start over. Hello, my name is Belle French. I’m a level ten healer. I look forward to completing this dungeon with you.”
He paused to look at her outstretched hand before hesitantly taking it. “A pleasure. You can call me The Dark One.” He provided her with his registered player name, released her hand, and then braced himself for rejection. “I’m a level one Dark Mage.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped. But she didn’t run away or curse him out, which is more than he can say for anyone else he’s encountered while inside a portal.
“B-But this is a yellow-level dungeon! How are you, only level one?”
So she wanted to address the less concerning of the two first. “It’s because of the Dark Mage's unique ability. I use exp to increase my dark mana stat instead of leveling up.”
“That’s insanely overpowered. How have I never heard of you before? How are you not even in a guild?”
He shrugged and slumped slightly. “The class has some—distinct—disadvantages to even it out. The dark magic constantly whispers at you, and if you don’t have a strong enough will, you can be lost to madness. It also changes your appearance. I imagine most Dark Mages have gone mad by now.”
She looked at him with a keener eye than he imagined a healer could have. “Yet, you’re still sane. You must have a pretty strong spirit.”
Flashes of his lost son flickered through his mind, and he gripped his staff more tightly. “Desperate people can do insurmountable things.”
Belle hummed, “Well, Mr. Dark One, shall we get started?”
They clear the dungeon in five hours. It was his quickest time yet. Despite their elements being opposites, Belle was still able to heal him, which he was shocked to learn. His magic tore through the Kobolds and Lizarians like paper dolls. The boss, a water drake, was harder to fight, but they managed it.
He expected her to take all the loot and ditch him once the boss died. Instead, she sat down and started to divvy up the rewards fairly.
He stared at his pile, equal parts confused and touched. Not that he was going to let her know that. “Well, this has been a lovely adventure. I must be going now.”
He turned to head to the return portal when her hand grasped his arm, making him freeze. “Wait! Before you leave, take this.”
She handed him a business card. “Storybrooke Guild?”
“Yes! We’re a new guild, so we can’t offer you much in terms of pay. But! The benefit of being smaller is that we all help each other grow! We made good time, but imagine how much faster you could level—err increase your mana—dark mana stat with a full party. Please, think about it?”
He looked between her and the card, dumbfounded. “You’re serious?”
Belle nodded, “Yes! Very serious”
“But, I’m a Dark Mage?”
The healer tilted her head, confused. “Yes? You’ve already shown how powerful you are. Why wouldn’t any guild be dying to sign you on?”
Alastair floundered. “Because I could go mad and turn on you all! I’m a walking time bomb waiting to go off!”
Instead of making sense, Belle shook her head, “If you’re already powerful enough to take on a yellow dungeon on your own, which we both know you could have, then that’s proof enough your spirit’s not going to break. Besides, wouldn’t having allies you can depend on and trust help make your mind stronger?”
He hated that she was technically right. “No guild would be crazy enough to take that chance.”
Belle smiled, and for the first time, he noticed a wild spark in her eyes. “Well, then, maybe we’re all a little crazy.”
She stared at his hood as his mind spiraled.
Belle said softly as she walked toward the return portal, “Maybe next time, you’ll trust me enough to show me your face.”
His heart flipped. Both dread and, for the first time in so long, hope filled his chest. Is it possible this healer with a spine of steel and a heart of gold wouldn’t run at his green-gold scales and reptilian eyes? Would the others of her guild share her sentiment, or would he be turned away at the door?
For the first time since the world went to hell, he wasn’t sure he knew the answer. But maybe with their help, he could find his son. Maybe he didn’t have to be alone.
Before Belle walked through the portal, he called out to her.
“Maybe.”