Chapter Text
“—And this is the merchant sector. We won’t be spending very long here, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“But it’s so nice up here-!” Someone whines from across the room, only to be immediately shut down with a firm ‘No.’
Rina frowns. The dungeon is exactly what she was expecting, dark and mildly disappointing. Apparently, the dungeon is ‘special.’ Whatever that means. She knows all the legends, of course, of the Lunatic Mage and the Golden Country. It’s practically all they talked about in school. But as far as first impressions go…
Rina takes in the dimly lit walls and crowds of adventurers, pros, and newbies alike. She wrinkles her nose at the damp, almost moldy smell emanating from the wall she’s resting against. She runs her hands over the fraying edges of her bag. It’ll hardly hold up for longer than a day, at this rate.
“—You’ll be our mage. It’s only the first floor, so this is the best time to get your hands dirty.”
Making a mental note to check over her supply list, Rina scans the room for the nearest merchant. She spots an old, dwarven man selling leather bags on the other side of the hall and jogs over.
“On the deeper levels, I expect you to keep your distance. Supporting fighters like me and protecting our healer from harm should be main priority. You’ll be training with our scout. Who is not here yet, for some ungodly reason.”
Rina stares incredulously at the man in front of her. Fifteen silver for a bag. Where is she, the Capitol? She grumbles angrily as she pours all her coins onto the table. First, food prices have doubled, and now this.
She places each coin into her palm, counting one by one. Voices steadily rise in the background, which she pointedly ignores. ‘Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen—’ Damn it. Two short. She glances back up at the merchant, who only raises an eyebrow in response.
‘Haggling it is,’ she decides. Rina takes a quick glance to either side of her before putting on her best smile, though it comes out more like a grimace than anything. ‘People are usually nicer to young girls,’ she thinks. She knows she doesn’t always have the nicest attitude, but she has to try, right?
“Sorry, du- Sir. I think I’m a couple coins short of fifteen,” she quickly corrects her mistake. “Would you take thirteen instead?” She asks, adding a pout and an innocent tilt of the head for good measure.
The merchant looks her over. He seems to contemplate her request for a moment. Rina tries not to stare as his fingers tap roughly against his makeshift table. She feels the strain in her cheeks the longer he stays silent.
“Sir?” She tries.
He hums. “Absolutely not.”
“Excuse me?” Rina demands, the grin wiping off her face. “Why not?!”
“You’re too young to be risking your life in some dungeon,” he states plainly, “Why would I sell to some fresh-faced rookie who ain’t even come prepared? Never mind one who can’t pay.”
“Too young- I’m an adult!” she huffs. Gesturing angrily, she continues, “Not that it’s any of your business, but I have my reasons to be down here like everyone else. I am prepared! I have supplies! I just need a damn bag.”
Rina plants her hands firmly on the table. The movement makes the surface shake, and she holds back a flinch as her coins nearly fall onto the floor. The merchant covers a laugh with an obviously fake cough. ‘This annoying old man. What even is his problem?!’
Now, Rina isn’t above begging, despite what people think. It’s humiliating, sure, but it gets the job done. Nevertheless, her face screws up in discomfort. Is she really going to do this for a bag? She could probably find a better one elsewhere, but that would require leaving the dungeon. After all the work she’s done to get here, leaving sounds too much like giving up.
She takes a deep breath in preparation, but before she can get a word in, someone calls out from behind her.
“Hey. You. Kid!” Rina plans to ignore it, but the yelling continues. “Turn around!”
At that, Rina turns and sees a half-foot warrior she’d noticed lecturing earlier, marching straight at her. She’s broad and tanned with long ringlet curls half tied up into a ponytail. Rina points at herself with a confused frown. ‘Me?’ She mouths silently.
The half-foot only glares. “Yes, you! The poor one who’s been failing to buy a bag for the last 10 minutes.”
“Wha- Hey! Not so loud!” Rina exclaims, panicked. Luckily, at first look, it doesn’t seem as if anyone besides the half-foot’s party is paying them any mind. “What do you want?”
The half-foot stops in front of the merchant’s table. She reaches for a bag on her hip and pours out exactly fifteen silver coins. She gestures for the bag Rina had been aiming for, and promptly buys it off him. Before Rina can complain—because really! She was going to buy that first—the woman turns and hands it to her.
“You any good with a weapon?” She asks, eyeing the dagger perched on Rina’s hip. “Our scout bailed on us. We need someone to replace him for tonight.” She gestures back at her party with her thumb.
A couple of feet away from them, a masked figure sends Rina a small wave the moment she looks over. Their other member, an elf the woman had been lecturing earlier, stares off at nothing. They look interesting, to say the least.
“Who even are you?” Rina asks. The question comes out ruder than intended, but she’s still a little bitter at the whole ‘poor’ comment. The half-foot straightens up a bit before responding.
“Mera Wylcey. Tiger’s Eye guild.” She grins. “Nice to meet you.”
“And you are?” Rina raises a brow as the man next to her pokes a falling walking mushroom with his staff.
He turns to her, looking vaguely startled at being addressed. The motion causes his earrings to clink together softly. The mushroom wiggles about, struggling under the weight of the staff. There’s a flash of white light and a singed smell as he finishes it off without looking.
“Oh! Me?” He clears his throat, “The name’s Elyon. I’m uh—”
Elyon gestures over to where Mera and the masked figure are chatting. He holds his staff with both hands and lets it support his weight as he leans in conspiratorially. His voice is only a half whisper, not truly caring who overhears. ‘Elves tend to be dramatic like that,’ Rina muses.
“Well, between you and me, I’m supposed to be the new mage for the Crown of Thorns.” Rina startles. Elyon rests the side of his head on his staff, elaborating, “Apparently, I don’t have enough ‘worldly knowledge’, so they sent me to train as a mage with these guys.”
Crown of Thorns, huh? Now that’s a name Rina recognizes. It’s hard not to; they practically run the Eastern Continent. Some of the most talented adventurers come from there. To join, you have to have some extraordinary skills. Someone like that, on The Island?
Rina looks Elyon over, sizing him up. Truth be told, she met a few Crown of Thorn members recently. She even considered joining once she became an adult. Not only would the information access help her immensely, but she’d also have access to some of the best healers in the world. That is, until she realized, during her meeting, how stuck-up they all were.
“Is it true that they’re planning on expanding to the Western Continent?” Rina questions.
She crosses her arms, not at all receptive to whatever show he’s putting on. Elyon frowns at her. The expression feels more like staring at a pouting cat with how delicate his features are. What’s worse is she knows that’s probably just how he is. ‘Eugh,’ she holds back a scowl.
“I’m pretty new, so I don’t know much, but…” He hesitates. “I heard that the Guildmaster wants to—”
“Oi! You two!” Mera shouts from across the dark hall. She’s carrying a bag, nearly stuffed to the brim, over her shoulder. “Hell are you just standing there for? We have enemies to fight.”
Rina scoffs, just barely masking it as a sigh. Who does she think she is, ordering her around? If she hadn’t practically embarrassed her in front of the whole floor, Rina wouldn’t be stuck here fighting low-level monsters.
She still straightens up, though, replying with a mumbled, “Sorry, Ma’am.”
From beside her, Elyon groans, “But this is so boring. I could kill these things with my eyes closed.”
Just as Rina considers voicing her agreement, Mera tosses the bag on the ground in front of them. Onto the floor spills a whole host of plants, a pan, a wooden board, and a couple of fire-starting materials. Mera bends over to grab the mushroom corpse and sets it down beside the other items.
“Lunav. Organize the plants for me, would you?” Mera requests. She’s not exactly gentle when she speaks, but it lacks the undertone of anger she’s been directing at the two of them.
The masked figure, Lunav, nods. The sigil on their mask, and it’s a cloth now that Rina is paying attention, shifts into a strange approximation of a face holding a thumbs up. Lunav lowers themself onto the ground and places the wooden board in front of their lap.
Rina and Elyon watch curiously as Lunav bunches together each type of plant. They’re swift at telling all the greens apart and organizing them into separate groups on the board. It’s hard to see what they’re doing with their hands underneath all the fabric, but Rina notes how they take a bit more time with certain flowers or leaves.
When they finish, Lunav doesn’t stand; instead, they start putting together a fire. Mera points towards Rina, “Rina, right? Which ones of these are edible?”
Rina gives her an odd look but answers anyway. She stares at the assortment of leaves, pointing towards a pink flower amongst them. “That flower is obviously poisonous, so not that one.”
“As for the edible ones,” She doesn’t recognize many of these, but takes a guess. “I’d say all the ones on the left look like you can eat them.”
Mera hums. “Why?”
Rina blinks at her, confused. “Uh. Lunav handled the other ones more carefully. They wouldn’t do that if it weren’t dangerous.”
“The red ones are just amaranth, though. Why would they be touching the non-edible plants?” Elyon cuts in.
“You’re half right. Both of you.” Mera states. “Rina, good observation skills. Picking up small mannerisms is going to keep you safe down here.”
Rina turns away, hiding a flush from the sudden praise. Mera then turns to Elyon.
“Naefiel. Nice catch on the amaranth,” Mera nods, and Elyon grins. “Most of the ones Rina pointed out are edible, but she missed a few like the Amaranth.”
“Most?” Rina questions.
“A few, the ones on the far right,” Mera points to the exact plants she’s referring to, “are fully safe to ingest. Lunav only handled them with care to avoid scratching them and exposing the insides to air.”
Elyon nods sagely, curls bouncing along. Rina, on the other hand, squints at her.
“What about the mushroom?” Rina points out.
“Excuse me?” Mera turns to her, brows furrowed.
“The walking mushroom,” Rina repeats. “Is it edible?”
Mera grins, her eyes glinting with something Rina can’t name. From a sheath on her hip, she pulls out a dagger. It’s almost entirely unremarkable aside from the way it curves to one side. She flips it over in her hand, holding it lightly by the blade, and hands it to Rina. She takes it hesitantly.
“It sure is.” Mera’s grin only grows until it borders on mocking. “How ’bout you cut it up for us, genius?”
More manual labor? Fine. Rina huffs but gets to work slicing the mushroom’s body into manageable pieces. It’s not too different from a regular mushroom, if you ignore the legs and all. She dutifully finishes cutting and piling up the pieces when she hears a bubbling sound from beside her.
Rina turns to see Mera and Lunav standing over a fire. Mera holds a pan, where she’s warming a few spices, the aroma permeating the entire hall. Rina watches as Lunav carefully lifts a pot they got from who knows where and brings it over to a gutter along the wall. They pour out boiling water, careful not to spill any of the pot’s contents.
In the time it took Rina to cut the mushroom fully, Elyon had set his bag down and was using it as a back pillow. He looks annoyingly comfortable, and she wonders why he isn’t doing any work. She raises a brow at him once he catches her gaze, and he only smiles lazily back.
“Scout,” Mera calls, “Do you have any food on you?”
It takes a second for Rina to register who she’s talking to, but she recovers quickly. “I do. Why?”
“Let me see.” Mera demands. Elyon loudly interjects, “Hope you brought meat!”
Rina walks over to where she left her bag earlier. She nods at Lunav, who has promptly returned, as she passes by. She reaches into her brand new—and fuck it was worth it—bag and pulls out a few packets of meat. It’s not enough to support two people for more than a few days, but it isn’t like she planned on sharing.
When she walks back over, Mera practically snatches them from her hands.
“Hey?! Those are expensive!” Rina shouts angrily. Mera ignores her and begins to unroll the packets. She wrinkles her nose the moment she lays eyes on the meat, and Rina has half a mind to be offended.
“What? Why are you making that face.” Rina steps forward to do something. What is that something? She hasn’t figured it out yet.
“Are these cured?” Mera asks.
Rina pauses, “No. The guy sold it to me fresh.”
Mera groans and runs a hand down her face. “And here I thought you had potential. Elyon.”
Elyon perks up at the mention of his name. “Yes, Mera- I mean ma’am. Captain. Uh-”
She cuts him off before he can continue his babbling. “Ma’am is fine. Cook these. There’s no use in keeping them.” She walks over to hand him the meat, “It’ll spoil in a day, if we’re lucky.”
Oh. That makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it? Rina feels all the righteous anger drain out of her, and she stomps away to sit by the wall. Like hell if she’s gonna admit that she didn’t think that purchase through. ‘And it cost me so many coins, too,” she laments.
For the next 20 minutes or so, Rina stews in silence. She does have potential. Damn what anyone else says. She may have forgotten that uncured meat spoils quickly, but that’s just an oversight! She’s fully equipped to travel the dungeon alone, thank you very much—
Rina is startled out of her thoughts by a steaming hot bowl being held out in front of her. She looks up to see Lunav smiling (?) down at her. It hurts her neck to look at them, freakishly tall thing that they are, but she sends a half-smile back.
Rina gives them a small “Thank you,” and turns her attention to her food. It’s a meat-and-mushroom pasta, which explains the boiling. She has no clue what the sauce is made from, but can’t bring herself to care as she digs in. It’s absolutely divine—a fact she credits to her very hard work slicing mushrooms—and she can feel the aches from the day melt off of her.
“Rina!” Elyon calls. “You’re coming with us to the next floor, right?”
“No?” She responds. “Why would you even think that?”
“Well, it’s not like you have food anymore,” Elyon remarks, “Or money to buy any. Since you spent it on perishables.” Rina freezes.
“Are you kidding me?!” Rina snarls, “You assholes! You tricked me!”
Elyon immediately begins cracking up. ‘Rude.’ In the background, she thinks she can hear Mera and Lunav snickering.