Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

(You can do this,) she thinks desperately, trying to psyche herself up for what has to be the hundredth time that day even if that doesn’t even begin to count the number of times since her Mother sat her down before all this began. The young woman stares at herself in the mirror, determination practically etched onto her face.

She’s already texted the cab service, she has her luggage, what little of it she actually needs, she has… everything. (Please just do this,) the thought becomes a plea as she pushes herself away from the mirror in the airport bathroom, catching only a glimpse of her resolve crumbling to nothing while she makes her way outside.

The airport is only just crowded enough that she has to work to avoid being jostled, but not enough that it’s overwhelming. Visually, anyway; the sounds of people talking and reuniting with loved ones are lost to her, drowned out entirely by the buds in her ears, blasting Japanese voices and electronic music.

Outside she has to shield her eyes against the bright mid-morning sun, but the sight beyond the airport stops her dead in her tracks; it’s breathtaking. She had, until this moment, only ever had the idea of California, but pics and vids don’t hold a candle to the real thing. The scent of salt on the air, a cool breeze that feels like ocean waves splashing over her skin, and she’s still miles from the beach? “No way this is real,” she mumbles, soft and shocked before movement at her periphery reminds her that she is standing in a doorway. She mutters an apology and quickly steps down and searches for her taxi.

It isn’t a long search and the driver is even kind enough to help her get things settled in the back ( Damnit, can barely talk. Here’s hoping he doesn’t like eye contact either! But at least I thanked him. I… fuck, I think I thanked him .) before they’re back in the car and driving away from the airport.

Along the way, she stares out the window, marveling at the new sights so radically different from the suburbs she grew up in, or the urban sprawl she and her mom live in now. From the style of the buildings, to the beach they practically drive right past, to even the nature that entwines everything and threatens to encroach the edges of the town; it boggles her mind how a place this perfect can exist. ( Money, probably. Thanks, cousin. )

The buzzing of her phone jerks her from her current song and thoughts, and she thinks to finally stop her playlist and check her texts. Mom is at the top of her phone, along with part of the message and her grip on the phone tightens just a bit with the flash of a memory.

------------------------------

“Sweetie, can we talk?”

She looked up from her game, pausing in the same motion. Mom was in the kitchen, right off the living room, cooking up stir fry. Truth be told, she’d only just gotten back from your job at the restaurant half an hour ago; she was all geared up to cook something she had seen the sous-chef make, even! But Mom had said she wanted to cook, she even had all her favorites, so she relented and decided to cool down with some game. 

“Sure Mom,” she replied while getting up and walking over to join her in their tiny kitchen. “What about?” It kind of sounded like it was serious. Was she going to try dating again?

“Well, first off, do you remember your cousin Jesse? The one who moved to California?” She looked over her shoulder while pushing food around the wok. (Technically my wok but, eh).

Truth was, she barely did. She kind of remembered a guy twice her height with dark brown hair, thin, kind of sullen looking. Always tired, too, but he was quick to greet her 10 year old self with a bright, “Hey, Cuz!”. He was just that sorta dude at the family BBQ’s and get-togethers, before we all just kind of drifted apart after graduations, moves, divorces and...

Her chest clenched up tight and she took a sharp breath to rebel against it. Fight the dark thoughts. ( No. No, I fucking refuse to go down that route. Not right, not over a memory of a memory. ) “Ye-yeah, I do. He was a real sweet guy. What about him, though?”

Mom’s smile went a bit tight and she turned back towards the food, going silent and leaving them with just the ambient noises of food cooking and the radio on low to fill the space. She waved over with a hand. “Help me with rice? I need to add it in--”

“Sure thing, chef,” she replied quickly, drilled in instincts mixing with a little mischief. She shot her daughter a rueful smile before seeming to relax.

“See, the thing is, summer is just around the corner, and he has this apartment just kind of sitting open.” She got a questioning look like, ‘Jesse had that kind of cash?’ which was quickly answered with the shake of her head. “It’s not like that. He’d paid up for a couple of months, but then he and his girlfriend decided to move in together. And I’ve been talking to him in the great big family group chat and… well, you came up.”

She tried not to be suspicious, but it did hurt a little to hear that her own Mom was talking behind her back. At least it was just cousin Jesse - hopefully. She stirred up the rice after getting it out of the steamer, ready to start scooping it into the wok. “Only good things I hope,” she half-joked, half-probed.

Mom laughed, but it sounded a little forced. ( Looking back, I should’ve been more suspicious. Ah well. ) “Mostly good. I-- well, you see,” she started, only to trail off, hesitating in her cooking as well. With a sigh, her daughter quietly took over and nudged her to prep instead. There was some brief resistance, but finally she nodded, looking thankful. “I was going to ask if there was anyone around here you were interested in.”

Ah. That again. She knew her Mom as something of a matchmaker; always had, but when it came to the two of them, neither had much luck. She grimaced. “No one at the restaurant really appeals, if that’s what you mean.”

“So you haven’t been on any dates?”

“Nope.”

“Not even a group date? Or a get-together with some friends?”

“I-- well, do my raid night hangouts in Discord count?” She asked, hopefully.

Her Mother sighed in defeat, spooning the last of the rice in which her daughter was happy to finish stirring all together, adding in one last splash of soy sauce. “I’ve heard those “hangouts”, sweetie. You’re not exactly opening up to anyone except maybe a raid boss.”

Now it was her turn to sigh, but she shifted the noise into a deep breath to steel what little nerve she had left. “So what does this have to do with cousin Jesse?”

And on that topic, she steered her daughter over to the table to help her plate. “He’s offered to be the ‘love coach’ for you that I never could be. Especially since where he lives is a bit more open and safe when it comes to meeting people.”

“And where does my so-called love coach of a cousin live again,” she asked, trying not to laugh out loud; the image of Jesse being in a relationship sounded totally impossible. “Pretty sure Lyria City is perfectly safe… during the day, anyway.” ( Fuck, I sounded lame. Compared to this place, the LC might as well be a viper pit. )

“It’s a little beach town called Verona Beach. Lovely place, like something out of a postcard. Plus, Jesse found a lot of luck out there; he’s grown into a very wonderful person, I swear.”

She grimaced a bit, before finally relenting and nodding. “Okay. So basically you want me to drop everything, job included, and just go away for two months to stay alone in an apartment for the first time in life with the sole goal of meeting people and making relationships that I’ll probably have to break up as soon as I come home?” 

That seemed to make her Mom give pause, before she smiled timidly and nodded. “That about sums it up… but hey! If you can stay in touch with your, uh, clanmates over Discord, you can stay in touch with the people you meet in VB!”

… Yeah, there was no real fighting that logic, but it still made her groan quietly. A ball of anxiety had begun to tighten in her stomach and was spreading its tendrils up into her chest, so she quickly took the wok over to the sink to wash it out. “How long do I have to think about it?”

Mom hissed and seemed to go quiet, so her daughter looked at her, frowning a little.. “I… might have already said yes for you.” The frown got deeper. “And booked your flight.” Her jaw dropped. “And called your work to make arrangements for you to go on extended leave.” She wheeled on her Mother. “And also messaged your clanmates about it and they said they would be cool with “changing the static rotation” - whateverthatmeans.”

What followed was a lot of yelling, eating, crying, and more yelling before she finally, finally asked in the quietest voice as they laid curled up on the couch, watching some show to distract the both of them from what was a draining evening.

“Do you really think this will help?”

And without missing a beat, Mom hugged her little girl tight. “I do, sweetie. I only want you to be happy. And I-- I don’t think I’ve seen you happy since just before you dropped out.”

She turned her head into her Mother’s shoulder, demanding the tears not start again, begging her past to stay in the past. In the end, all she could do was swallow the lump in her throat down and croak out a soft. “I guess I’ll start packing.”

“Way ahead of you, pumpkin spice.”

------------------------------------------------

She stuffs her phone back in her bag for now; after everything that happened between the two that night and the tense week that followed, the only way she gets through this is by ignoring her Mom’s maddening mix of emoji, puns, and good vibes. For a little while, at least. 

This whole plan might be supportive, even above and beyond, but it still hurts how much of it they had been keeping secret from her, only to spring it all on her without warning or asking her opinion; she wasn’t even allowed to really say no! So, for now at least, she’s going to sulk and be the angsty 25 year old the media says she is.

“Hey, lady,” the driver speaks up, snapping her from her thoughts. “This the place?”

She scrambles to pull her phone back out and flip to a note she’d made for the trip, rattling off an address before looking out the window; it looks exactly like the pic Jesse had sent Mom. “I think so, y-yeah.”

“Alright. Lemme just help you get your luggage out and-- oi, hold up. There’s some guy coming over.”

Before she gets the chance to ask, she sees who her taxi driver is talking about: full figure, flannel shirt, hawaiian-themed board shorts, tons of body hair, glasses, beanie hat with the curly dark brown hair peeking out from underneath. It’s just like how Mom described, but she can barely recognize her own cousin. She gets out of the car without thinking, despite the driver’s warning.

“Er, Jesse?”

A huge smile spreads across the taller, older man’s face and he opens his arms while stopping just short of her on the sidewalk. “Sup, Cuz! Wow, you really grew up; way taller than before. I mean, your Mom shared pics, but I can hardly believe you’re the same person.”

A relieved smile spreads across her own face as she steps in those last few steps to hug her cousin as tight as her scrawny arms can manage. “Can say the same about you. Last I saw you were thin-- er, not taking nearly good enough care of yourselfnowaitthat’sworse.”

But Jesse just laughs it off and looks more bashful than anything as he pulls his baby cousin back to look her over better, which only makes her cheeks heat up all the more. “Nah, you hit the nail on the head. Five plus years of better living can undo a lot tho, even if I’m not quite the beanpole I was at graduation~”

She laughs with him and shakes her head, smiling as genuinely as she can manage. “I think it suits you, Jesse. You definitely look happier. Like- way happier.”

His grin speaks volumes and he lets go of her so they can both have some space to breathe. “I am. Especially since me and Samantha got together; you would not *believe* how much having her around has helped with everything.”

And that’s all it takes to remind her of this trip’s true purpose and she gives him a dagger-sharp look to tell him so. “Real subtle, cousin. Next you’re gonna tell me dating can will help me pay my rent— wait, shit, you paid the lease. Er… my subscription fees?”

Jesse looks sheepish, but still manages another laugh at her awkward landing. “Funny you put it like that, but yeah, you caught me. I guess your Mom spilled the beans about all of this already?”

“Yeah,” she replies cooly, composure sliding back. ( For now. ) “Because trying to keep it a secret and framing it all as just some big vacation for me would’ve been, you know, super manipulative and shitty.”

The big guy looks wounded, but recovers quickly when the taxi driver clears his throat and waves to get both family member’s attention. “So, I shut off the meter because I’m nice like that, but either of you gonna get her luggage out, or am I gonna have to sit here all day while you hash out your drama?”

She blushes at that and starts to answer but Jesse is already heading over to open the trunk and start getting her bags that were too big to carry with her into the back of the cab. “Nah, I got it. Thanks a ton for getting her home safe,” he says before slipping the guy some extra cash.

The driver nods. “Good. Have a good day and, hey,” he looks her right in the eye and she freezes for a moment. “You enjoy your summer, yeah? Yer only young once, trust me.”

And with that, he rolls up his window and drives off, leaving the elder and younger cousins standing on the sidewalk with armfuls of luggage. Jesse jerks his head towards the building door. “Maybe I should just show you inside. Get you settled?”

She nods dumbly, still kind of shaken from that brief encounter. “Lead the way.” 

Chapter Text

“Alright!” Jesse opens the door and she steps inside, looking around with wide eyes. “Heh, cool place right? Might be a bachelor pad, but I like to think I was a pretty cool bachelor.”

 It’s like a mix of her college dorm and the apartment Mom and her live in; bizarre in the most striking way. “Wow,” she mumbles softly, walking inside slowly, looking around and taking stock of where most things were. Couch in front of the TV, kitchen in the back, mirror next to some sort of bench with all sorts of little tools strewn over it, hanging shelves. Still so familiar, but at the same time entirely new.

“Hm? Something wrong about the place…?” Jesse sets her things down and she turns back to him, still holding her own bags close. She shrugs, head dipping a bit.

“Wrong? Definitely not, but… ugh, there’s a word for it. Like nostalgia, but for something that you never had? I think that’s the definition, anyway,” she trails off, sounding less sure and turning away by the end. She makes her way over to the couch, frowning a little to herself. It’s bugging her, but she feels like it shouldn’t. 

“Can’t say I know the word, Cuz, but I’m sure Google does.” She tries to wave him off, tell him it doesn’t matter, but he already has his phone out, fingers tapping away. For some reason, it makes her smile, just a bit. “Ah! Got it.”

She waits for him to say it while finally relenting to herself and putting her bags down; some small part of her actually believed that if she could avoid it long enough, she’d be back on that plane. But shoulder complaining beats out a stubborn delusion, if nothing else.

“Saudade.”

The word makes her jerk like she’s been struck by lightning, and thunder rocks through her head— how could she ever, possibly forget that word? Her breathing quickens and she has to brace herself on the couch arm while Jesse reads something from the wikipedia article about the word, but she’s only just barely aware he’s talking, let alone able to make out the words.

Thankfully for her, he’s there in a moment or two, before the spiral can drag her deeper ( her smile, her laugh, “Don’t worry about them, K— ) with a hand on her shoulder and waist. Heavy hands help her down to the couch. “Hey hey, woah there. You good…?”

She shakes her head, breathing still coming quick as she focuses on her knees, on the hairs on the back of his hand, anything but her own thoughts ( laughing at a stupid joke one of their friends told, then meeting her gaze and feeling the earth stand still ) but they just keep flowing out. “Fucking-- no. Just… sorry. I,” she stops short, hesitating whether to tell the truth or not before finally relenting - her brain’s too occupied to come up with a convincing lie anyway. “C-can I trust you to keep a secret? Even from the rest of the family?”

He nods solemnly, but she shakes her head. “I need to hear the words. Please .” The thoughts keep rolling over her like waves, demanding an outlet and she’s not about to burst into tears over this, not right now; not like this.

“Alright, Cuz. I swear I won’t tell anyone whatever it is you’re about to say… so uh, try not to tell me you’ve killed a person?” He manages a grin that looks as half-hearted as she feels. And again, somehow this big lug helps. Mom might have better instincts than she gives her credit for.

It still takes her a few moments to calm her breathing enough, but she starts slowly, focusing on every syllable to make sure she doesn’t stammer or ruin this. “Do you remember how I used to go to college? It was only about a year and a half, but did you know that before?”

Jesse nods. “Your Mom was so proud; you got in on scholarship and figured out all the stuff you’d need to pay for it practically on your own. Wouldn’t stop gushing about how good your grades were, too.” 

She blanches, but just shakes her head. “Yeah, of course she did all that… I met someone there. Just before the end of my second semester.” She takes a slow, deep breath, before letting it out again, hard as she can. “Her name… is Saudade.”

She heard her cousin whisper, “Oh shit,” but she can’t stop here. “She was my first friend in… god, years? Since elementary school at least. And she swept me into her friend group and it was just perfect. We hung out all through summer, and I even rearranged some classes just to make sure I could spend more time with her next semester.

“It was,” she chokes up a little and brushes it aside with a swallow, hard and more than a little angry. “The best time of my life, what we spent together. But then I started to notice something weird; people in the group chat stopped responding, one after another. The friend group fell apart over nothing - literally nothing, until it was just me and her.”

She grips at her chest and Jesse rubs over her shoulder. “You really don’t have to finish, if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

She wants to stop, but the memories won’t. They never do when it gets this bad. “Just—  just let me get the last bit out. Sorry, but it’s definitely the worst part…”

He nods and seems to brace himself, and she lets her shoulders slump, eyes half closing as the memories flowing over her begging to stick and clump up, coming back together. Living the memory half buried, but never fully locked away. “It was just the two of us at her dorm room one night, she told me about this group she was a part of. They’re like- like some kind of cult who worships magic and witchcraft… and she said that the others had all bailed when she told them. But she knew I was different. That I could be greater than I was.

Alone in her dorm room, both curled on her bed with hands entwined. They’d gotten so physical, so fast, and by that point she was all but addicted to the warmth of contact. Saude knew that. She used it often. The words she spoke started out so casual, then vulnerable, before she was there, right next to her ear, whispering and promising her she was special. All she had to do was trust her. And she did trust Saude. 

“She asked if I trusted her. I told her that I did. So she showed me this place out in the woods behind the college, a little stone building. It… it was like a torture chamber—”

Jesse flinches at her right, but she keeps going. “I let her show me what all the tools were for, what the circles painted on the walls and floor did. What the wooden table in the center with the straps was for. She was so… calm when she asked if I could climb onto it for her. I was so freaked out, I told her no… and she just got this look on her face. Like she was so disappointed, but then excited. And then she turned into a weapon.”

“Oh shit .”

She laughs out softly at that. Oh boy, if this is getting to him… “She was a razor, quick and very flicky even without someone to wield her, and she threatened me to get on the table. That one way or another, I was going to bleed for her, but on the table I might actually enjoy it a little.

“I told her she was sick and grabbed the first thing I could find: a branding iron. She sliced open my shoulder for it, but I smashed her across the room and took off running, fast as I could. She chased me, first as a weapon, then a human, and fuck was she fast, because she did finally catch me back at the quad. We fought, but all the screaming on both sides drew attention and she took off before campus security showed up.”

She finally looks up at her cousin and sees his gobsmacked expression. Maybe it’s seeing someone be as shocked as she should feel, or maybe it’s just because it’s his face, but it makes her smile, just a little.

“What… what happened after,” he finally asks after a second of silence between them.

“Oh, that. Uh, I talked to the cops, showed them her torture dungeon, and they arrested her, eventually. She confessed to basically killing everyone else in the group - one survived but she’d done something really messed up with her her, so she… didn’t remember much after. And then I quit college and went home to go live with my Mom. Been like that the last few years.”

Jesse swallows. “Heavy. Like, ton of lead heavy. Cuz, I am so sorry I— I had no idea.”

She gives him a look like, duh, before shrugging. “It’s cool. I mean, I asked you to look up the word. We’re good Jesse.”

“Er, no, that’s not what I meant. I… well, how do you feel about weapon people, after all that?”

Now that question actually makes her stop. Trauma aside, she… doesn’t actually know how to feel about people other than baseline humans. Never even crossed her mind to consider them any differently before Saudade, and since then, she’d only met one or two. “I don’t really have an opinion on them other than, “Please don’t try to assault me,” I guess. Why?”

Jesse made his way around to sit beside her, sighing a little while rubbing the back of his neck; the guy clearly doesn’t do well in these sorta charged, serious situations. And coming from a cousin he hasn’t seen in over a decade, she’s sure this is far from easy to process. “Well, I had this whole spiel about Verona Beach being the perfect place for a summer of love, you know?”

He pauses to look over at her. “Or, y’know, Totally Platonic Friendly Hangouts. Those rule, too”

She snorts but even to her, the thought sounds a little silly. “Which I totally wrecked. Go on?”

“Wrecked is a strong word; derailed works better! But uh, anyway, the thing about VB is that we have this trend that lets us get a whole bunch of things done at once… Have you ever heard of a Dungeon, Cuz?”

“Like a sex dungeon or--”

“No! Not like a sex dungeon! … I mean, okay, so sometimes sexy, maybe but—  look, don’t get me even more off track here,” he pleads.

She manages a shaky laugh, despite everything, resting her face in her hands and trying to wipe away the “sweat” that had built up around her eyes. “Yes, I know what Dungeons are, Jesse. They were all the rage when I was in high school and college, too. Kids would go down to try and earn extra cash or face their fears or just hang out with their weapon friends.”

Her bear of a cousin nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! And it gets you a good work out on top of all that. It’s great. And to help you get used to it here, since it’s kind of too popular to not know at least a little bit about, I… kind of made arrangements for you to get a lesson. From a sword person. Who’s also a fencing instructor?”

And that’s when the good will train starts to slow down, just feet from the station too, and she just gives him the driest look ever. “I really hope you’re joking right now.”

“I am not.”

“I literally just got off a 4 hour flight.”

He starts to sweat a bit. “I- yeah, that’s fair.”

“And now you want me to go fight manifestations of my fears, literal monsters, with someone I’ve never met.”

There’s a brief, but very heavy pause between them as her expression grows sharper and his more nervous. “Yyyyes?”

“You’re an ass, Jesse.” She sighs loudly before tossing herself backwards onto the couch, one arm flopping over her face. “Where and when?”

“So you’ll do it?”

“ Where and when, oh cousin mine.”

He jumps to get his phone out, fumbling with it before reading out. “Right! So, it’s at the Verona Mall - can’t miss the place - and it’s whenever you’re free today; he said he could use the extra time to take on some of his own fears while he waits. And, uh, his name is Isaac. If that matters.”

She sighs tiredly. “I’d say it matters a lot. Alright. I guess I should get ready… what do you even wear to a dungeon?”

“I’d suggest something light, easy to move in, and nothing you’d be too upset about getting wrecked?” At least he’s trying to be helpful. His tone screams apologetic, so at least he’s not quite as tough as Mom, but he hasn’t actually apologized. She shrugs and starts to get up.

“Right, then I’m gonna unpack some clothes, get dressed, and head over… now when you say I can’t miss it--”

Before she even finishes the thought, his phone is held out to her and she can look him in the face again. He really does seem sorry, but there’s a mix of pride and love there, too. ( Damn, he really would’ve been a good big brother. ) She takes the phone and starts to fill out a contact.

“Try to keep your phone on you at all times, okay? I know you’re a grown adult and Verona Beach is seriously safe, but you’re still my baby cousin and your Mom will absolutely murder me if I let anything happen to you.”

She smirks, laughing a little while handing him his phone back. “You’re right about that. Pretty sure she learned to cook just because of all the sharp knives involved.” And her laughter continues as her cousin starts to really sweat. “Your face is priceless~”

“Y’know, if you could talk like this to everyone , you wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t be worried about your Mom cutting me up and serving me at the next family BBQ.”

She shrugs, trying to be nonchalant and definitely not selling it. “True, but then you couldn’t flaunt your love coach status to your little baby cousin, could you?”

Finally, he laughs again and puts a hand on her head, ruffling her hair playfully, which she immediately tries to swat away. “You make a strong case, Cuz! Haha.” He lets her shove his arm away before heading for the door, a smile on his face. “I’ll leave you to it, then; text me if you need anything, and I’ll text you directions as soon as I’m out.”

She growls and makes a rude gesture at him while telling him to go, sounding petulant and meaning it while she goes to the mirror to try and fix her hair.

As soon as he’s properly gone and her hair is less of a mess,, she sighs and goes to her luggage and drags the bag with clothes over to the closet and starts filling it up with her things; the last thing she wants to deal with is living out of suitcases for the whole summer. “Cannot believe he’s making me do this almost the minute I get off the plane. Unbelievable,” she grumbles to herself while she works.

Along the way, she finds a loose red dress that goes past her knees, nearly past her shins, with short sleeves that partially expose her shoulders. “Geez, Mom, did you have to pack these? Well,” she hesitates, before relenting to herself. “At least blood stains won’t show as good, right? …. That’s just morbid.”

She finishes her task and changes before going over to the mirror and getting a look at herself, properly this time. Her face has a bit of childish fullness to it, but her chin and jaw still have enough definition to stand out, dark brown hair styled into a faux hawk she hasn’t done anything with in weeks ( and it’s staying that way, damn it. ) and she has a fair few piercings in her right ear, but only one stud in the left. Chocolate brown eyes stare back at her before she blinks and looks further down.

The dress is flowy enough to hide her body shape from the waist down, but her bare arms are soft and somewhat slim, chest finally getting that fullness she’d been hoping for without a push-up or padded bra ( still wear them, though. Who cares if it’s a lie; it’s a squishy, happy lie. ) and she can just barely see how wide her hips are getting. She figures it’s best to keep her running shoes on since, well, she’s going into a dungeon.

Satisfied with her appearance, she sighs and empties out her bag, the messenger one specifically that she uses as a purse, and slings it over her shoulder, only her phone and wallet really needing to go back in for a Dungeon crawl. Hopefully.

Right. Her phone.

She stares at the smart rectangle for a long time, sure that it’s judging her for not checking her texts earlier. Well, now she actually has to, and if she ignores her Mother’s then? Well then she actually has a reason to feel shitty for avoiding her; or more of a reason.

After one last moment of deliberation, she picks the phone up and turns it on; four text messages from Jesse and several from mom, a few from Discord, but she checks the texts.

The ones from Jesse start with directions to the mall, but then continue on for a little bit.

Jesse
[Just a head’s up, I didn’t just invite you out here because there was space or I think I’m some kind of pick up artist.]
[Verona Beach is a town of lovers and relationships.]
[You’re bound to find someone here who you connect with!]

She grimaces a bit, but replies back quickly, fingers tapping across the screen.

Me

[I wanna believe you’re right, I seriously do. But I just don’t think it’s as easy as you’re making it out to be. It can’t be.]

There’s a brief pause before she sees him start typing again, but she knows she has somewhere to be, so she heads for the door, snatching the keys to the place on the way out ( Glad Jesse left them somewhere obvious. ) By the time she’s outside, he’s started sending  replies

Jesse

[I never said it was gonna be easy, Cuz. Just that it’s sort of… inevitable?] 

[Like, if you put yourself out there, eventually you’re gonna bump into someone that clicks so well with you that you just can’t not connect.]

[And if they’re a half decent person at all, then all you have to do is try to be yourself. From there, it really is that easy. The hard part is getting there and what comes after.]

After the second line, she actually stops walking and just re-reads the last two sentences from her shockingly insightful cousin. For some reason, it makes her heart thud in her chest and there’s this warmth there that she hasn’t felt in… it hurts to even remember a time where she did. She’s sloppier with her typing and redoes the line more than once before finally replying.

Me

[Thanks. Seriously. <3]

Jesse

[<3 No problem, Cuz. Good luck in the Dunj!]

Renewed, she starts walking again and checks her texts from her Mom, just to get that weight off her shoulders before diving into what is likely the start of something huge for her.

Mom

[I know we left a lot of stuff unsaid when you left. And I’m almost certain you probably don’t want to talk to me right now, so I’ll give you all the time you need to respond but]

[I am so proud that you’ve actually gone through with this. Even if you spend most of your time in Jesse’s old apartment, even just going out there is a big step.]

[I hope your flight goes well at least 💦]

There’s a gap in the text to just about when her phone started buzzing earlier and she smiles a bit.

[I already miss you. Didn’t think at all about how empty the house is without you in it!]

[But this was my idea, so I guess this is my price to pay.]

[How’s Verona Beach? Is it everything Jesse said it would be?]

[And are you okay? Safe? Did your Cousin help you out??]

[...]

[Okay I know I said I’d give you time but please give me something to know you’re alive.]

She snorts very softly before her fingers begin to fly again, the girl deftly dodging people on her path without looking up.

Me

[👍]

Mom

[!!!]

[Oh you little!]

Me

[haha]

[Chill, Mom. Not gonna leave you hanging.]

[Verona Beach is beautiful, Jesse was right. I’m doing alright, no one’s tried to mug me (yet), and my Cousin literally left me my own bachelor pad to hang in while I go dungeon diving.]

[Couldn’t ask for more~]

Mom

[Don’t think I missed that yet, missy.]

[But wait, dungeon diving? Kids still do that, huh? Wow, I guess times never change.]

She blinks and almost walks out into traffic; her head snaps up as a giant hand grabs her by the bag strap and stops her from doing just that. The guy is big, has a giant mess of curly blonde hair that keeps going down to make a fairly impressive beard, and… he’s smiling, a little.  “Might want to watch where you’re going,”  replies with a bit of mirth, but a look of nervousness on his face.

She blinks again, then her cheeks heat up and she breaks eye contact with him. ( Blue. Very pretty blue. ) “U-uh, yeah, I definitely should pay more attention. Thanks. And sorry, too.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. Just didn’t want to see you get turned into street pizza.”

She laughs at the admittedly dark joke, nodding along. “Yeah, and on my first day? That would suck. I’d be dead, my Cousin would likely be stabbed, my Mom would be in jail. Wow.” She still doesn’t lift her head; his loose fitting shirt must be really interesting. ( Seriously, are Hawaiian floral prints that popular out here? )

“Wow. Sounds like you got a lot going on; glad I could help… ah, speaking of, the walk light’s on.”

She manages a confused noise before the people standing alongside her and the blonde bear all start to cross the street. “Oh. Duh, hah, right.”

She glances up at his face and he’s still smiling, just radiating kind, soft energy that makes her think of a teddy bear. It’s a little infectious. He pats her on the back and gets her going across the walk. “Where’re you headed?”

“Verona Mall,” she responds simply, trying to ease the ball of tension in her gut. ( Nope, not happening, dude is too well within ‘type’ range for that. )

“Shoot. I was actually heading for Kicks. It’s this local cafe, just down the road from the intersection of the mall? Too bad. I wanted to at least show you to the mall’s front door.”

She deflates just a little bit; part of her wants that too, but the fates, they are cruel. “It’s cool,” she lies, mostly convincingly. “I mean, I’ve got directions… Though, it occurs to me to ask. Uh, the mall has a dungeon, right?”

“Eh? Oh, yeah, it has one. Were you planning on going down there?” The bottom half of his face looks pretty surprised, at least from her perspective. “You know it’s kind of dangerous, right?”

“I’m aware, yeah. But my cousin’s sword… friend? I guess? He’s waiting for me down there to give me a lesson or two about dungeon delving, and even if it’s not my thing, I can’t just leave him hanging, y’know?”

The big guy nods, seeming to understand as he walks side by side with her. There’s a tension to him like he wants to say something, but he’s having a hard time actually getting the words out. ( I can relate. ) But after a moment longer than is comfortable, he finally says. “I guess if you’ve got a partner, it’s not so bad. Personally, I couldn’t stand going down there alone; did that as a kid and it did not go well.”

She tilts her head as the end of the block draws close. “I can get that, but what if you did have a partner? Would that change stuff?”

He blinks and looks at her like she grew a second head, before laughing a little, more awkward than anything. “You uh, you do know how dungeons work if you’ve got a weapon-wielder pair in there at the same time, right?”

“Nope. Never done this stuff in my life; my uh, friends when I was younger weren’t into it.” ( Because they were nonexistent. ) “Why?”

He stops at the new intersection and she can just barely see the Mall past another block of buildings. Sweet, so it was right down the street from her apartment. Big Guy ( solid name ) speaks up. “Because it’s the wielder’s fears that manifest the monsters when there’s more than one. You have to bear your fears to your weapon partner the whole way down the Dunj. It’s why I never went down with anyone else before; too personal, you know?”

She stops with him, but his explanation hits her like a ton of bricks. Ah. She had definitely not considered that, and she’s sure if her cousin had known about it ( long shot ) then he tactically decided not to share it. She swallows down a fresh lump in her throat and lets her thoughts flow out unbidden. “Well, here’s hoping Isaac isn’t so judgemental that he’d think less of me for being afraid of my boogeymen. Haha… ugh, fuck.”

Big Guy looks sort of awkwardly at the girl who he’d inadvertently crushed, metaphorically speaking. “Isaac? As in Isaac Brooks? Uh, if it helps, that guy is as professional as they come. No way he’d think less of you over something you have no control over.”

She gives him what she hopes is an appreciative smile, but from his expression of pity, it definitely isn’t. So she forces herself to roll her shoulders out, take a deep breath, and get it together. “That’s something. So! Uh, how do I actually get into a… Dunj? Seriously, is that how people abbreviate it here?”

“Pretty much,” he shrugs, acting like he has no more control over it than she’ll have in the dungeon. “And the Verona Mall has 3 floors, and none of them are lower. Just go to the escalator bank and look for the one that goes down; people have even put up warning signs, since the Dungeon won’t let you leave most ways.”

“That hardly sounds safe.”

“Yep. Probably why most people think of it as more of a job or a workout routine than a hobby.” He shrugs again. “You have health insurance, right? VB’s pretty cool about the trend, especially with paramedics and ambulance rides, but still, best to have your card ready if things get dicey down there.”

She inhales through her teeth, before nodding. “Right. Uh, so I guess this is where we part ways?”

“Yep. Seems that way… Shoot, I didn’t get your name.” He rubs the back of his head, looking more awkward. “Not that we didn’t get pretty far without ‘em.”

She smiles lightly, more amused than anything, and nods. ( At least he’s half as awkward as me. ) Still not able to meet his eyes, but at least she can mostly act right around this one. “And I didn’t get yours. So, how about this? You clearly know at least one of the people I’m going to be spending some time with. Next time we meet, if I’m… better at all this communication and confidence junk? We’ll trade names and whatever else. But right now, I’m struggling with enough.”

He holds up a single huge hand and nods. “I get you. Struggling with my own stuff anyway. But until we meet again, you should know; you do kind of already have a name in my head.”

That gets her attention and she looks into his (stil beautiful as fuck ) blue eyes, curiosity sparkling in her own. “You have to tell me. It’s practically the law.”

“Hah, what happened to confidence and communication?”

“That was before I found out you named me! Like I was a pet or something.” She’s just going to ignore the kink implications there, yep, just gonna breeze right past that ( for now, only for now, fuck shit damn it. )

He chuckles until he’s actually laughing, rubbing the back of his neck with an easy smile. “Alright, alright, but only if you tell me the truth here.”

“Er, anything within reason?”

“Right. Do you have one for me?”

She flinches, because of course she does . Right. “Okay,” she begins, holding up her hands, as if to placate a wild bear. “Before you judge, you are, like, way bigger than me. In every way.”

He nods. “Completely fair.”

“... I’ve been calling you Big Guy since about half a block ago.”

Big Guy immediately proceeds to cover his mouth and look away, but she could tell he’s absolutely trying not to laugh out loud from the way his shoulders are shaking.

“H-hey, don’t laugh at me,” she half-yells, half-whines, face warming up by the second despite her half-hearted attempt to glare. The guy radiates good vibes to the point where even when she’s embarrassed to hell and back, she can’t ( don’t want to ) be mad at him. “How’d I even end up going first when you started this!”

His shoulders calm and he looks back, but there is so much ( fucking ) joy in those eyes that it’s clear he’d be laughing if he could get away with it. He drops his hand and gives her this huge grin. “Fair enough, Tiny Distraction.”

Her jaw drops.

( Oh this beautiful fucker .) “I am going to the Mall now, to fight monsters, who will wound me far less than you, good sir!” She tries, valiantly even, to sound angry and offended, but the laughter breaking in around the word ‘monsters’ ruins it spectacularly, to the point she’s laughing out the last word.

But it’s fine; Big Guy is laughing too, still smiling down at the Tiny Distraction. “Then I guess I better go drown my shame in overpriced tea and bagels. Good luck with your Delving, Tiny.” He turns to start walking away, but she’s shaking a fist at him and laughing almost too hard to hear.

“You d-do that, Big Guy!! Haha.. oh fuck,” she manages to get out, laughter petering out as his back starts to fade from view, smile on her face shrinking with him. Now that he’s gone, embarrassment at almost ( literally ) everything she just did starts to flood in. “He must just get that out of people,” she tries to logic away while quickly trying to cross the street--

There’s a loud honk and her head snaps to the left to see a mass of canary yellow screeching to a stop feet from her. ( Right. Crosswalk. Wait for the light— Oh well .) Her thoughts go by quick and, on instinct, she leans forward into her step, turning it into a brief sprint, then falls forward even further until she can tuck full into a roll that turns into a slide. One fluid motion, fast enough to get out of the slowing car’s way. And in the next motion, she’s popping up, adrenaline flowing as bounces out of the street.

“Sorry,” she calls loudly over her shoulder, cheeks hot as she books it down the street towards the mall. 

Of course, that means she completely misses the shocked looks of the driver, the pedestrians on both sides of the crosswalk, and of the driver of the second car that almost hit her coming from the other direction.

Her dead sprint lasts only the majority of the block before she has to stop, but now the only thing standing between her and the Mall is one last crosswalk. Though now she’s significantly more covered in grit and road crud than she’d been before. She grumbles and curses as she does her best to shake and swat it off before reaching the intersection.

( Just make sure to wait this time, dumbass. )

Thankfully, nothing else eventful happens as the short brunette makes her way into the mall, trying her best to stay out of other people’s way. It’s… honestly a little disappointing to see a normal, everyday mall. Considering that there’s a capital-D Dungeon right below her feet, she’s been expecting the place to be boarded up and going out of business, but no; Verona Mall is thriving with people coming to shop or hang out in the air conditioned spaces in large numbers.

Still, she’s not here for that, and maybe the Dungeon itself will be different. She makes her way into the mall, using signs when she has to, but ultimately it’s not hard to find her way to the main atrium; from there, the escalators are practically a breeze to find, as are the elevators. And just like Big Guy had said, the escalators on the ground floor have signs around them warning against the Dunj below and to, “bring a partner if possible!”. ( Rarely possible for me. )

She sighs to herself, tries her best to straighten her hair and clothes up one more time before stepping onto the escalator heading down into the Verona Mall Dungeon.

Chapter Text

The Dungeon actually fits her expectations far better than she could have expected; the wall-less, dark expanse that surrounds her almost immediately as soon as she’s past the “floor” of the mall is on brand with a place made out of fears and human psyche. The escalator also goes down a long, long way, further than it has any right to, to the point she almost wishes she’d taken the elevator instead.

But at the bottom, when she finally reaches it, she finds a mall. A mostly normal mall! And then took away the walls and ceiling and left visitors to stare into the same endless black abyss. There is one other thing; it’s like someone took parts of every mall, thriving and failing, and used them to create a dreamscape, more the concept of a mall than any mall she’d actually ever been in. “This is just bizarre,” she mutters softly while trying to peer over the edge, only to find her head meets resistance. “The hell?”

She pushes against the darkness at the edges of the tiled path she’s on, but finds something like a magnetic force pushing back against her; the harder she tries to fall off the edge into the void, the more it forces her back.

And that’s about when she realizes what she’s trying to do and, if it had actually worked, what would happen; she jumps back immediately. “Yep, definitely bizarre to the extreme… Okay. Let’s just find Isaac.”

She pushes forward, trying to steady herself as she goes, coming up to sliding glass doors that open as she approaches them and more twisting paths beyond. She can just barely see through an ever present gloom, even where frosted glass or storefronts and advertisements for products that don’t exist don’t block her view; whatever rules the dungeon works makes it so she can only see so far ahead of whatever room she’s in.

After a little more traversing, however, she starts to hear something above the ever present but shockingly easy-to-ignore mall background music: the sound of combat. Steel ringing against steel, air being sliced apart. She follows it and comes just in time to see an estoc floating in the air, fighting off a sabre of an entirely different make before one quick, decisive thrust ( Since when do swords glow? ) pierced it, splitting the other blade in half with a rather terrible noise. It explodes into a small cloud of smoke before it can even fall to the ground.

There’s a thrum through the air that sounds like a tired sigh coming from something other than a mouth, turningit slightly distorted. She takes a step towards the sword and it seems to perk, “turning” lightly in her direction, before offering something like a bow. 

“Well hello there. You must be Jesse’s friend; I wasn’t expecting you to take so long that monsters would begin to appear in quite these numbers.” The sword offers his hilt to her, his distorted voice echoing in the strangest way. ( Different from Saude. Maybe because he’s longer than she was then? ) “Please, it’s not quite safe yet, so I’d prefer you armed over not.”

She nods, not wanting to question the talking sword too much, and closes the distance between them to grab hold of his hilt--

Something like an electric shock sparks to life as soon as she fully curls her fingers around him, shooting up her arm and, in a moment, she feels his strength almost meld with her own; a near-lifetime of fencing practice tries to adapt to arms that have only ever used blades for chopping food, while struggling to adapt to legs that ran track and were always quicker than one would expect. It’s brief, but for a moment, she feels a connection to Isaac that she’s never quite had before…

( Wonder if Saude would’ve felt the same way. )

Obviously, Isaac doesn’t, because he continues on with, “There we are. Hello, my name is Isaac. Enchante.” She shivers a bit, able to feel his voice as well as hear it. Interesting, but not bad.

“O-oh, uh, a pleasure to meet you too,” she replies lamely. “My name is Kasandra Woods, but pretty much no one calls me that. Just call me Kas. Or Woods, I guess? Youseemlikethetypetocallsomeonebytheirlastname.”

There’s a bit of laughter that travels through his blade. “Do I? I suppose that’s a correct assessment, but for the sake of brevity, I think I will stick with Kas.” 

Her heart skips a beat and she can only hope that he can’t feel it through her hand. Not that her verbal deluge hasn’t already set precedent for her; Kas takes a deep breath and steadies herself before saying, “Then Isaac works for me, too. Sorry I wasn’t here earlier; I would’ve liked to meet you in your, er, human form before we got to all this.”

“Mm, I can understand that,” he responds, voice as much in her bones as it is in her ears. ( Definitely going to need to get used to that, holy shit. ) “But today is supposed to be a lesson. Or rather, two lessons.”

“Two?” She asks, genuinely curious as she holds Isaac up to look into his blade. ( Sharp, but straight, and such a beautiful design… )

“Indeed. The first I assume Jesse informed you of: Dungeon delving. There are certain quirks to it that one should be enlightened on before traversing, especially if you are particularly skilled in the second aspect of our lesson.” Isaac begins, but holding his pause until she nods to show her understanding. “The second will be to help you improve your combat abilities. You don’t really strike me as the ‘knight templar’ type, so am I to assume you haven’t spent much time fighting monsters or sparring with weapons, people or otherwise?”

She shrugs her shoulders because, yes, he’s making fair points, but at the same time, she doesn’t feel like a complete novice. ( That’s just all the anime and samurai films talking , though. ) “You’re right. This is my first time in a Dungeon, and it’s my first time wielding an actual weapon.” Kas tries her best to stress the qualifier there. ( Could have just said it better. )

“Oh? So you have experience of some sort? That could be important to note going forward, if you wouldn’t mind telling me about it. And please, feel free to swing me about, get a feel for me; I just cleared this area, so the monsters should leave us be for the moment.”

Kas rubs the back of her head, feeling embarrassed as she begins to swing Isaac, idly twisting and sweeping like she’d seen in shows and Youtube videos. “Well, outside of third-hand experience with… less than educational media on the topic,” she begins, interrupted by Isaac’s knowing chuckle. “There was a weapons combat class at my high school I took for the Phys. Ed. credit. Since I was one of only like, four wielders who joined. So I got to use practice versions of the weapons. Handled a bunch of things, from longarms to daggers to brass knuckles, but, honestly? It was an age ago and I got my ass kicked by wielder-less weapons a lot.”

Isaac hums thoughtfully and suddenly she feels her arm being gently pulled this way and that. Like he’s moving her, rather than the other way around; but she has to admit, his thrust does look better.

“I see. So not a total novice, but potentially a few bad habits have been picked up. Truthfully, I can appreciate that more than someone who’s merely a blank canvas, waiting for me to help them develop a style from thin air and vague ideas.”

“Thank you?”

He just chuckles again before clearing his “throat”. “Moving on. Take a look around, and you’ll be forced to note the shape of this Dungeon.”

Kas nods. “It’s a Mall.”

“Exactly. And as a Dunj is a place where one can confront their insecurities, even their fears, in a very literal sense, the monsters that you face will take their shape from you. I chose the Mall because, as your cousin described it, you have some confidence issues. Can you guess why?”

The brunette runs her fingers through her hair and sighs a little, half embarrassed to say what she already more or less knows out loud. “Because… ugh, because malls are places packed with people and commercialism in equal measure. It covers a broad range of fears, but if it’s me we’re talking about,” she stops, chewing her lip. “There’s… only a few options I can think of.”

“Go on,” Isaac cajoles with that soothing tone of his. Whether it’s actually his tone, or having it echo through her very body, either way it’s doing wonders for her nerves.

“The first is social anxiety; I’m terrible around people, and the idea of having eyes on me is all but terrifying. Makes me worry about my clothes, my hair, my face. If I’m passing today or not or— or just so many other little things, and that’s before I even have to open my mouth.” ( Damn this estoc. Damn him for being so easy to talk to. ) “L-look, you’re not my therapist. You aren’t obligated to take on my personal fears or burdens.”

The blade in her hand makes a thoughtful noise and swishes this way and that while in her grasp, before finally saying, “That might be true, but for today at least, I am your instructor and weapon partner. To fight together without at least knowing who you’re fighting with or what you’re fighting is like entering a fight with a handicap. For example, you should know that I prefer to observe, wait for openings, and then strike, both in combat and in conversation. I also am… a bit out of touch, when it comes to the more modern things.”

“If you’re talking about how you talk, you sound more fancy than old-fashioned, if that helps.”

His laughter sends delightful ripples up her arm and she’s certainly blushing now, but Isaac seems too amused to notice. ( Or too polite to say anything. )  “I was more referring to my texting habits. My business partners are the tech start-up types, so I’m often perplexed by their emoji-based cyphers~”

“Aaaah, okay, yeah, I’m with you on that one. I mean, I can read an emoji string, but I typically prefer to actually, y’know, write out what I’m saying.” 

“Exactly! … But ahem, we’re getting off topic, even if it was still constructive. So you believe your fears to be social in nature. Well, to my knowledge, Dunjs are stacked atop each other in layers, with the cracks and flaws of the space becoming more apparent the deeper one goes. And, especially in some of the more conceptual or primal places a Dunj might spawn, it’s not uncommon to find areas where one simply cannot advance without defeating a kind of “Boss” monster that will represent the core of a particular fear.

“Defeating these monsters will give you greater power over them, as well as improve your physique and your skill with weaponry, but most importantly, it will help you conquer your fear,” Isaac finishes with a light flourish of his blade.

But Kasandra gives him a look that says she’s less than convinced, crossing one arm and resting her hand in the crook of her elbow while wrinkling her nose. “I feel like if just killing a monster in a Dungeon could cure people’s fears, the pharmaceutical industry would try to destroy every one.”

“Hah! You make a fair point, but it’s not so easy to conquer a fear. Untangling why you’re afraid of something is just as important as confronting your insecurities; even if you defeat a giant monster truck, you won’t know why that was important if you do not do some introspection as to what that truck meant to you and your fears.”

Kas frowns, thinking it over for a moment before finally asking, “So basically, this place will lessen some metaphorical weight on my heart to help me… look inward and try to understand my fears?”

“Exactly! You understand the purpose, then. And as such, it’s hardly an easy process, and not one that everyone, nay even most people have the time, interest, or mentality to undertake.”

“So like therapy then, only if you mixed it with crossfit. Fantastic.” She looks at the swordperson in her hand, then sighs and takes up the ‘on guard’ position and proceeds to lash out with a flurry of thrusts, before finishing with a diagonal slash. “Alright. Then I guess I’m ready to see what this Dunj has in store for me.”

There’s a pause between them, brief though it may be, before Isaac responds, a tremor of something Kas can’t identify in his voice. “Indeed. Allon y, Kas.”

And with that, she turns and starts to lightly jog for the next sliding door.

———————————————————

The pair pass through a hallway or two and it’s about then that she starts noticing odd things, like bags of trash and wooden boxes left out in the open. “Huh. That’s not quite normal, is it.”

“For the Mall above? Certainly not, but one in the midst of being shut down? Perhaps. In Dunjs, objects like that are just as conceptual as the monsters; they’re where things of value gather and are contained.”

Kas gives the swordperson a look, then re-examines the trash bag, bulging and lumpy, with the dull sheen of cheap store-brand or bulk bought bags. She walks a little closer and nudges it with her foot, but it simply slides across the floor for an inch or two; it barely felt like anything, too. Just like the walls that protected her from falling to her death, the bag feels like a “trick” of the Dunj more than anything real.

“Huh,” she says simply, before quirking Isaac up into her periphery, not wanting to take her eyes off the bag. “I want to slash it. Do you mind?”

“Be my guest; it’s not as if there’s any actual trash inside.”

With all the permission she needed, Kas slices across the surface of the bag, feeling it give way with a satisfactory weight that was not at all present with her kick. and in a brief flash it explodes into a pile of coins.

“Wait, this place has money just lying around in it?”

As she drops into a low crouch to start picking up her reward, Isaac’s voice vibrates up her arm, “Indeed. Dungeons are forged from the feelings and experiences of people who pass through, but also from the locations in which they are situated. In other words, any Dungeon you enter that forms in a society will inevitably either siphon off a portion of the wealth that is routinely lost by others, or spent within the Dungeon itself.”

“Hold up,” Kas stops counting her coins to look at Isaac. “There are shops in Dungeons?”

“Not always, but yes, sometimes there are! They are oft times interesting, selling things that hold more value to an individual than in fact, and for prices that are unique to that person. But every cent spent in a Dungeon remains within that Dungeon, only to be reclaimed by another industrious delver.”

Kas shoves the money into her bag and starts going over to the crate with a nod. “Right. So if I want to pay for things after my savings start getting slim, I better take this whole thing as seriously as I would a job.”

“A job, therapy session, and work out all in one. While Dunjs might not be for everyone, one cannot deny their utility.” The smashing of wood does nothing to keep Kas from hearing the estoc’s extollation, but seeing a pile of wire pop out from within does make her pause. “Ah, and speaking of utility.”

Kas bends down to pick up the small coil, perfectly neat and uniform, even tied to make it more convenient to store away. “This looks like… yeah, this is craft wire. The heck?”

“As Dunjs are concepts, they can also be used to craft conceptual items, should you be willing to go through the processes required.” Isaac explains, though his tone is a bit less sure, the vibrations less comfortable in her arm ( Doubt doesn’t suit him. )

“So… If I’m willing to do a little DIY, I can make stuff outside of a Dungeon using things found inside of Dungeons?”

“Well, I assume you could just as easily buy the items themselves from stores outside of a Dunj, but yes. But I do believe if you don’t wish to be crafting blindly, you’ll need to find some kind of recipe or guide from within the Dunj itself.”

With a shrug, Kas puts the wire in her bag away and starts to head for the end of the hall, towards the next sliding door. “Anything else I should know?”

“There is quite a bit to cover,” Isaac says with a bit of a laugh, “but I think that it will be best to do so as we come across the topics, or else we’ll make very little forward progress.”

She can’t deny his point and opens her mouth to say as much when the air in the room shifts and she feels a tug, like a string around her heart being pulled and leaving her just a bit unravelled; a moment after the sensation, a flash of light and tall coil of dark smoke appears and out of it steps… something.

It looks like a mannequin, the sort one would display clothes on, but with ball joints and only scraps of actual clothing and accessories adorning it. And unlike a normal mannequin, this one is moving, albeit jerkily as it moves towards Kas, filling the air with the jangling of bangles and click-clacking of plastic-on-plastic. The worst part though, is the sloppily painted on expression it’s face: using makeup, the monster has the unsettling visage of a human face.

“Aha, so it begins. En garde, Kas!”

She feels tension in the air, nearly blinding one of her eyes with a feeling like static. It distracts her enough to leave her paralyzed; just long enough for the monster to speed up and lunge forward to try and smack at her with its jointed arm.

“Kas!” Her arm jerks to the side and she’s forced to block the hit with the flat of Isaac’s blade, leaving her feeling both the blow and his grunt of discomfort. “Are you alright? Please, steady yourself!”

The clicking noises grow louder and it tilts its head, make-up starting to run down its plastic face, before Kas hears something that makes her shudder from head to toe. Something that can’t possibly be real—

“ U g Ly! ”

( Danger, danger, fuck what the fuck is this feeling. H-how is this, it sounds human, it’s judging me-- ) “It is simply a monster, Kas!”

She drops her gaze to its twitching body, plastic frame, and lack of any real features. Right. It isn’t a real person, let alone one that’s judging her. The brunette grits her teeth as the next swing comes for her and she ducks under it, back-stepping into a roll that ends with a crouch. She kicks forward, lunging viciously for the monster’s chest.

The blow connects, but it makes the creature jerk off to the side and out of her way, leaving it stunned, but now she’s just as off balance. “Very good recovery, but your form needs work; allow me to show you the advantages of having a weapon-person as a partner!”

And then, without thought, she lets Isaac take the lead and charge forward, an aura of white light surrounding them both as the thrust gains far more force had despite needing less wind up and energy, hitting the mannequin twice over; but he doesn’t stop with one, and soon she’s holding him by the blade, that same aura protecting her hands as she slams his hilt to the ground to create a shockwave of energy, rippling outward to leave the monster reeling.

Finally, she flips him back around, catching him by his basket hilt with ease and performing one final thrust that surrounds her with the manifestations of many estocs, all lancing into the ground with thunderous force that proceeds past her and into the mannequin, seeming to strike it from all sides.

Though it never seemed to take any damage from their attacks, that final strike broke the creature into a pile of limbs that explodes into smoke, leaving behind a scattering of coins and… a magazine?

“Okay,” Kas said, breathing heavily with adrenaline still flowing through her. “What the hell was all that?!”

Isaac, to his credit, keeps his tone even, soft, and pacifying as possible as he responds, “I’m not sure what you’re referring to, but if it’s the monster--”

“You’re damn right it’s the monster! But-- no, okay it’s also the magazine and… and did you hear it talking?! ”

The estoc pauses for a moment, seemingly taken aback, before catching himself. “I heard the noises it made, but if you heard it speak, then I think perhaps there is more to your fears than I could have previously expected… May I ask what it said?”

She hesitates, looking away before finally letting out a shaky sigh. “It was calling me ugly.. It felt deeper than that, though.”

Isaac perks. “Do you… think that?”

“Fu-- hell no. I think I look really nice today! In fact, I’m wearing one of my favorite dresses, and I did my make-up really nicely! But hearing another person say it-- even if it’s not a real person? It kind of shook me. Maybe because I didn’t expect a monster to talk.” ( Or because I rarely expect it to be said to my face. )

“Normally they don’t,” Isaac admits solemnly. “Even boss monsters rarely speak unless your fears are very deeply rooted and have had time to truly fester within you.”

Kas finds a spot nearby - specifically a column - to lean again and slowly slide down to the floor, covering her face with her free hand and holding Isaac in front of her. “Could-- could you tell me a bit about some of your Dungeon monsters?”

“Hrm… I suppose that’s more than fair. When I was younger, I often fought trucks.”

“Trucks,” she asks, peeking around her hand. “Like, real trucks or--”

“All sorts, Kassandra. Pick up, moving trucks, even the large cement grinders. I even had to fight a monster truck to “clear” a Dunj, and the experience felt good. Truly. Though, coming to terms with what it meant to me was the real victory. I was struggling with my own masculinity and the role my father played in it, and by defeating that fire-belching, dirt-spitting mechanical beast, I finally had the space to stop struggling and start growing.”

Kas blinks, the only thing she can really think to do while processing what Isaac said. Finally, though, she manages a soft, “Huh.” ( Lame, give more. ) “I guess—  no, that does help. Thanks.” She lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“So, why the magazine, then?”

Isaac helps her stand up, as if he’s standing on his own two feet and pulling her up, and guides her over to the magazine. “It’s a ‘Zine. Above, they’re just magazines, but in Dunjs they hold the power of the ideas written within. Take this one, for example: Dragons Galore. It’s a Zine about obsessing over dragons. But if you pick it up, perhaps flip through it and absorb the meaning within, then for the cost of one copy of each Zine, you’ll be capable of casting something not unlike magic.”

Jaw dropping, Kas scrambles to pick the magazine up and immediately opens it. The inside is absolutely plastered with dragon images and descriptions of each, but really, it’s more zine than magazine, as the Dunj name would imply; low quality paper, the writing is silly, and it’s so niche that only people with an interest in dragons could even hope to relate, rather than to draw in people looking to understand the creator’s fascination.

But somehow, through all of that, Kas does come to one realization: she knows how to summon and throw a ( motherfucking!! ) fireball.

“Okay, yeah, Dunjs are awesome,” she says quietly, in absolute awe of the shoddy Zine held in one hand. Isaac chuckles at her side. “Laugh all you want, I’m now basically a Magus.”

“A what,” he continues to laugh in delight as he asks.

She huffs and puts the Zine in her bag while lifting Isaac back up to look him in “the eye”. “Magus. They’re a class in Pathfinder, a Tabletop Roleplaying Game, where a person uses both a sword and magic at once! They even use spells out of a book!!”

This does absolutely nothing to quell Isaac’s laughter.

“Ugh, you know what! Fine, it’s fine! I didn’t want to be the kind of Magus that gets creepily into their sentient sword anyway— which, come to think of it, I dunno how they got that class past QA; there is no way a sword-person wouldn’t try to play a Magus’ weapon in game, and… … I’m rambling.”

“You are, but it’s quite alright. That said, I’d prefer that if you were “into me,” that it be in a healthy way..”

And there goes her face again, heating up despite her very best wishes. “I am going to j-just focus on beating up my fears for a while now, if that’s alright with you.”

“As you wish,” he says, voice still full of the subtle joy that tickles all the way through her arm. Which, as is becoming the norm, does nothing to help with her current complexion.

Still, she moves forward and onto the next room. Inside, a pair of mannequins stand, twitching and already waiting for her. As soon as she’s within a few yards of them, however, they move towards her but she’s ready this time; with Isaac’s moves before as a guide, she ducks, weaves, and deflects the attacks before making some of her own against the one that reaches her first.

The creature is clumsy, but unpredictable with how jerky it is, using the uncanny valley effect against her as it swings its leg towards her in a high kick that nearly sends it tumbling over, only to rearrange itself to be standing on one leg and one arm. “Okay, that is just freaky,” she grunts while stabbing at it again and again.”

“On your left!”

Kas feels a shudder from her left side and practically drops to her knees and half-rolls away from what could have been a punch to her temple. Well, a slap, at least. “Thanks,” she replies shortly to Isaac before sprinting into a quick thrust she follows up immediately with a heavy slam.

“None needed. Together now!”

And just as before, she unleashes a follow-up attack that summons a swarm of phantasmal swords to strike both enemies at once. One simply crumbles again, but the plume of smoke and light it creates leaves an opening for the other to dash through and slam bodily into her.

Kas grunts, wind knocked out of her fully as she bounces back onto one foot before giving up entirely and rolling backwards into a half-kneeling crouch. She can already feel the spot on her chest where she’s sure a bruise will form.

“Are you alright,” Isaac asks in a rush as the creature puts itself back together for another attack.

“Yeah,” she says with a growl behind her words, pain forcing her to clench her jaw. “All it did was piss me off.”

She feels something like surprise shudder through her sword arm, before Isaac chuckles. “Then by all means.”

Without missing a beat, she rushs forward, starting low before thrusting up towards the creature’s chin. And while it bounces off like all her other attacks, it sends the thing snapping backwards. She slides a foot behind one of its own, then shoves its chest with Isaac’s hilt, practically punching it, taking no small amount of pleasure in watching the mannequin fall backwards to the ground. Finally, she lifts her partner up, tip pointing down, and slams his tip straight through the creature’s chest and making it explode into a cloud of smoke all around her.

As she rises, panting and struggling to breathe, she feels Isaac vibrate reassuringly up her arm. “There is, perhaps, one incredibly important thing I have yet to mention, as you seemed intent on not taking a single hit this run-- until now, at least.”

“And what’s that,” Kas asks with a bit of difficulty. “Are you gonna tell me about the Zine that casts Cure Wounds or something?”

“Quite close, actually. What’s your preferred beverage?” 

That throws her for a loop, but after a bit of thinking she shrugs and simply says, “Coffee, usually with too much cream and sugar. Why?”

“Well, I happened to notice a red medical case in the corner of the room; smash it, and I think you might be quite surprised at what you find.”

She turns and looks before the shiny, red plastic box catches her eye. It does look like a first aid kit, of a sort, and she approaches it without only a bit of difficulty, free hand still rubbing at her sore chest. One light stab from Isaac is all it takes to pop the “plastic” box like a balloon, but--

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I did warn you there’d be surprises,” he replies, amused.

Sitting neatly on the floor is a cup of coffee sitting in a saucer, the liquid a lighter shade of brown than simple black coffee to indicate that, yes, someone had at least added milk or cream or something to the brew. She crouches down, picks the cup up, and looks at it from every angle. “This place is completely bizarre.”

Isaac makes no attempt to disagree, only to explain: “This is a place shaped by our desires and our fears. It can be an oasis for people one moment, and a gauntlet the next. Enjoy your cup of coffee, Kas.”

She sighs, accepting the new information as best she can, and follows his less than subtle command.

It really is nice coffee and, as it flows down her throat, the pain in her chest ebbs away to little more than a dull reminder of her mistake earlier. By the time she’s finished the cup, even that’s gone.

“Huh,” she says as the cup seems to vanish out of her hand once the liquid is all but consumed. “Magic healing coffee. Shame this probably doesn’t work outside of the dungeon.”

“If it did, then the pharmacology industry really would come for these places.”

Kas lets out a short little giggle at their shared joke before standing up, refreshed and ready to continue on-- after she’s cleared all the other boxes and bags up first, of course. “By the way,” Isaac interjects suddenly.

“Huh? What is it?”

“I should have said so earlier, but with all that’s been going on, I’ve neglected my duties as a fencing instructor. Your form with me, when you fight as a fencer is compelling. You show promise… That said.”

Kas chuckles a little bit. “Is this about all my rolling?”

“It is mostly about that, yes.”

She shrugs as she scoops up a handful of pennies. “I told you I took Weapons Combat in high school, yeah? I took a class in Acrobatics and Tumbling in college. Fell in love with it, and considering my sources for combat education…”

“Then you’re a freestyling natural combining skills both learned and observed. Fascinating.”

They continue to chat about how Kas can stand to improve her form but, in the end, she leaves with about 47 cents, another Zine, and two cups of coffee that she cannot find a way to spill, so it all goes into her bag as she heads onto the next room. “Dunjs really are something out of a video game, but I am definitely not complaining.”

“I’ve never had many chances to play them, but I’ve heard such comparisons. Truthfully, the alternatives would likely make Dunjs far too dangerous to tra-- hm? Now what is that over there?”

By this point, Kas doesn’t even need to see Isaac point to know what he’s talking about ( weird, super weird ) and in this case, it’s a safe, wrapped in chains in the center of the room. “So next you’re going to tell me that this is normal, too?”

“Safes often contain an item of greater value than beverages, coins, or Zines in Dunjs, or at least not only such things. But I’ve never seen one that someone specifically bound in chains. It is peculiar… for example, the chains appear to be steel; I don’t believe they were made in or by this Dunj.”

That gets Kas’ attention and, seeing as there are no monsters in sight, she walks over to it and grabs one of the chains, giving it a tug. Sure enough, it feels real, while the safe under it feels like every other construct in the Dunj so far; not quite real, but with enough substance to be mistaken for the real thing. Like a prop, actually.

“Wait, but how do you open safes in Dunjs?”

Isaac hums before guiding her to tap the top of the safe - no luck. “Perhaps try kicking it?”

“You can’t be serious,” Kas replies, a little laughter of disbelief in her voice. Dunjs are weird, that she can accept, but Isaac picking such a simple and stupid option as his second possibility?

“I most certainly am. Do you know anything of cracking safes?”

“Well— no, I don’t.”

“And do you know the combination,” he follows up with, stabbing ahead with percision.

Kas grimaces, looking about for any kind of sign posting or puzzle. “... No.”

“And outside of the possibility of stubbing a toe, will kicking it yield a negative result?”

“... You’ve already tried doing this as a Wielder, haven’t you.”

There is a bemused smile she can practically feel through his hilt as he replies, “Kick the safe, Kassandra. Please.”

With a heaving, dramatic sigh, Kas kicks out at the safe and feels it clunk and shift at the impact. By the time she’s back on two feet, the thing is already snapping open to reveal a formless void before vanishing in a puff of light as the chains fall limply around it to reveal--

“Is that a freaking talwar?”

Isaac, stunned in his own right, hesitates before replying. “I do believe so. Hm. Multiple firsts today-- hold on. They’re not just a sword, but look, they appear damaged.”

Kas sees what he does as she leans a bit closer, recognizing that, unusual red, diamond patterned blade aside, the sword in front of her was broken along the tip, scattered pieces seemingly floating around it. “What does this mean?”

“It means I don’t believe this is a mere sword, if that weren’t already obvious.” Isaac clears his throat and speaks a bit louder; it’s only then Kas realizes he’s been projecting less and speaking through her more than when they first met. “Excuse me? Are you conscious?”

No response from the blood-red talwar. The more Kas looked, the more she came to notice little touches that set them apart from other sword people she’d seen, even on the internet, and certainly they’re different from Isaac. “Maybe.. Maybe I should try poking him?”

“Give it a shot, though do try to be gentle - and do not cut yourself.”

She nods and crouches down to gently stroke a finger along the flat of the blade. Nothing. She jostles the handle, lightly. Bupkis. Finally, she sighs. “I guess there’s only one thing I can do - sorry if this is too much, talwar-person.” Kas carefully wraps her hand around their handle.

The shock of cold metal comes first, but the spark that flows through her as they warm under her touch is far more difficult to process. Kas tastes something metallic and sweet across her tongue, and a burning thirst across the back of her throat, along with the twitches of muscle memory for skills and techniques she can’t begin to recognize, but she does know one thing right away; where Isaac is straight, rigid, and his technique is to the point, this sword knows how to dance.

Just as she’s getting used to the sensation, the sword shifts in her grip and transforms in front of her. The flashes of light and smoke surround him as he makes the shift fades almost as soon as they begin, and standing in front of her is a man at least half a foot taller than her, wearing a leather jacket, dark red pants, fashionable dress shoes, and little else. Shirtless. Very shirtless.

And he’s still holding her hand.

“Woah-ho-ho. Well! Hello there, you two. Name’s… Sunder,” he replies with a purr in his voice that mostly covers his confusion.

While Kas is shocked silent, Isaac picks up the slack in responding in that same tone of voice he’d greeted her with before (Back to his formal tone. That’s honestly kind of nice to know he doesn’t relax for everyone.) “Isaac Brooks. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Unusual for you to be down here without a wielder, no?”

“Yeah,” Sunder cups his chin and puts on a quizzical expression. “You’re right. Funny you should mention that… I have no idea why I’m down here.”

Kas blinks and looks at him more closely, just to see if he had any sort of head injury. ( Still no eye contact, coward. ) But nope, his gorgeous locks either cover any such wound, or there’s nothing to speak of. “Amnesia? What’s the last thing you remember?”

“There was someone… chanting, in a cloak at that. Then I was out, and now I’m dinged up; might even be missing a few bits of my blade!” He doesn’t seem all that worried about it, Kas notices; really, it’s more like a curiosity than a concern.

“I must have really gotten onto someone’s bad side for them to abduct and chip me.”

Isaac starts to pipe up, but Sunder continues on before he can. “But! My luck must be turning, because it means I get to meet you. No idea what someone like you is doing down here in the Dunj~”

Kas hesitates because, yes, his eyes are directly on her, and not on Isaac. ( Wait. Waitwaitwait. No, no fucking way- ) “W-who, me?”

Sunder’s lips quirks up a bit further and he winks. “Yeah, you. Definitely not talking about the monsters!”

Isaac, however quietly, shoots back, “There were other options.”

Kas flushes as Sunder seems content to brush right past Isaac’s comment and leans in towards her, eyeing her with a kind of playful flirtiness she is definitely not used to. “And what’s your name, cutie?”

“K-- hck, u-uh, Kas. Kas Woods,” she manages to choke out, gripping Isaac just a little tighter. “Nice to meet you, Sunder.”

“And it is very nice to meet you, Kas! If you’re into it, maybe we could go on a date later, perhaps after you finish your dive?”

She froze solid, words growing thorns and tearing up her throat in an attempt to keep her silent. Her eyes flutter shut for a second, she struggles to breathe, and all while his ( damned but beautiful ) eyes keep looking at her. Expecting of her.

“S-sure. I mean, if nothing e-else, I want to help you figure out wh-why you ended up down here.”

Sunder grins wide and looks utterly delighted ( from the nose down, at least ) at her, flexing his abs as he leans back. “Wonderful! You completely understand. I mean, abducting me is one thing, but leaving me here?” He suddenly lets go of Kas’ hand to grip his jacket with both hands and exposes more of his chest. “I mean, who would just leave me here and not keep me in their embrace forever~?”

… Okay, so he’s dramatically flirty. Kas lets out a sigh through her nose, minor aggravation helping her push through the anxiety of meeting someone so new and in-her-face. “It’s a mystery, alright,” she replies, sardonic but steady. “But seriously, do you have any ideas who might’ve done it?”

He shrugs, again very nonchalant about his assault, while posing a different way. “Can’t say I do. Plenty of jealous people out there, and maybe a few broken hearts along the way; I can’t be there for everyone, after all.”

“Jealous?” Kas asks, if for no other reason than to have her suspicions confirmed. 

“Of my body, of course.”

Kas feels reasonably certain her internal groan is loud enough Isaac must be feeling it right along with her. That, or he’s groaning too. “Riiiight. Well, do you have your phone? If we’re going to figure this out - date or not - you’re gonna need my contact info.”

“Ah, right, of course.” And without missing a beat, he hands her his phone and she quickly flicks to his contacts section, putting her number in while in full view of him; only right to let someone you barely know see everything you do with their phone. Kas hands it back.

“Are you going to be good getting out on your own?”

“Oh, I think I’ll be fine~ Just going to slice my way out of here; shouldn’t be too tough since you two already cleared the way for me.” And in the same flash of smoke and light, man becomes sword again and she can see him levitating with an almost jovial rhythm to his movements. “Have a good time, you two.”

And just like he said, Sunder practically dances his way the way Isaac and Kas came, leaving the pair alone once more.

Kas breaks the silence first. “Well, that guy’s a ham, but… is he really gonna be alright? He looked too dinged up to fight anything.”

Isaac hurmed in agreement. “Weapon forms heal quickly, so long as we don’t incur too much further damage, as they’re constructed more from our spirit than our actual bodies. It’s why he could have such injuries as a talwar but look unharmed as a man.”

“Good to know,” Kas replies shortly. “But what about the rest?”

“Yes… Abducted, damaged, and then imprisoned for who knows how long, yet he seems completely unphased. I doubt that alone is normal, but what troubles me more is that this confirms the rumors of swordpeople being attacked. This is serious; as soon as we’re finished here, I’ll make a report to the proper authorities. And from here on, let’s keep an eye out for any other victims.”

Kas nods, sighing a little as she flexes the hand that held Sunder for that oh-so-brief period of time as a sword. As a man, his touch was cold, but as a sword? His metal, warm to her touch, grip just a bit dangerous to hold if she did it wrong, but the feeling of power that came from him… “Hey, Isaac?”

“Yes, Kas? Is something the matter?”

“I think I might be more comfortable with weapons than I am with people.”

Before he can properly respond, the thrum of tension and danger shakes the air all around them, and the strain on Kas’ heart is so great she’s sure she might actually come apart at the seams this time. “A-ah, fuck.. Here they come again.”

She readies Isaac-- but it isn’t just one mannequin that spawns; severa; at least half a dozen of them, along with floating security cameras with eyes for lenses, blinking and staring at her constantly. Her eyes widen and she realizes that she’s in way over her head.

“What?! So many? But why--” Isaac begins to question, but Kas is already on the move, dodging and sliding away from mannequin attacks while the cameras hang back and begin to blast angry red beams her way. 

“Question later, fight now!”

She finds out quickly the large planters absorb the shots the cameras fire, but that the mannequins only grow more relentless the longer she dodges them; she can’t go without fighting them for long, or else they’ll outrun her in seconds. She’s going to have to find a way to whittle down their numbers to stand a chance against them, let alone the cameras.

“Got any ideas, Isaac?!” Kas blocks a swing and kicks the mannequin back, only to find herself struck in the thigh by another; she takes the hit and rolls away, pain lasting only a moment or two; seems if they have to attack quickly, their hits are weaker.

“Not many,” he admits. “Perhaps attempt to group them together so that my heavier strikes can catch more at once?”

It’s a solid plan, but these things don’t like to chase after her mindlessly; they keep trying to trap her, encircle her. ( Shaped like people, fight like a pack… Huh. )

“I have an idea.”

She doesn’t give Isaac the chance to ask before she turns on her chasing enemies and starts simply thrusting through the first one in the semi-circle of rapidly advancing monsters, knocking it back in the process. Kas leaps over the swing of another to close the distance and strike at the one she’d made her target, going after it again and again, even as the chorus of angry, familiar voices begins to grow louder, throwing every manner of insult. ( Ignore them. They aren’t her. )

There’s no denying it now. It’s not just formless fears of what might be said coming from the hoard. She grits her teeth and thrusts twice more before slamming Isaac down, roughly sending the other mannequins flying back in an attempt to make space and damage her target at once.

“On your right!”

She throws her head back just in time for the bolt of light to whiz past the spot where she used to be, but doesn’t let that stop her assault; she lets the momentum carry her into a backwards roll, leaving her surrounded by stunned mannequins eager to swing, only to perform a heavy, energetic charge at the one she’s been focusing on.

Before the tip of her partner even strikes true, plastic comes apart in a blast of smoke. She bares teeth savagely. ( I can do this. I’m going to do this. )

——————————————————-

The next several minutes have her facing mannequins using tactics like ‘divide and conquer’ mixed with other guerrilla fighter staples, but they leave Kas gasping, soaked in sweat, and leaning against one of the planters that had saved her neck more times than she would prefer.

Isaac lays across her thighs, blade flat and cool even through her dress, when he asks, “Are you alright? Is the coffee helping?”

She nods, having already finished off the two she found earlier. “D-definitely… not as much as the Zine’s did back there, like, seriously… I had no idea how I was going to handle those weird wig model heads that kept trying to slam into me otherwise.”

“That really was too much for one’s first delve into a Dunj. Do you have any idea why they appeared in such number and variety?”

Any explanation she came up with was embarrassing to even consider, but on the other hand, she has to rationalize; this is Isaac she’s talking to. So far, there has been no judgement on anything but her form, and even that was paired with praise at her inventive approach to combat. “Sunder might’ve put me off guard. I… didn’t really like how he looked at me, at first anyway. I realized there’s definitely a lot of performance to his game, so it made it a little easier to deal with, but…”

“But your fears seem to stem from people judging you too closely, too harshly, and perhaps even in ways you might see as too truthful.”

Kas sighs out loud and lets her head fall back, eyes closed. “Nail on the head, Isaac. Nail on the head.”

There’s a silence between them for a long moment where she can feel his steel thrum lightly along her thighs, almost like a heartbeat, but drawn out and slower, and her own breathing drains the tension out of her body… “There was,” she begins, after a small eternity, “An old fear in there. The voice of someone who’d call me beautiful between all the insults. And it hurts, even now, hearing her voice. I’d take a million mannequins calling me repulsive and foul and whatever else over hearing her call me ‘beautiful’ even one more time.”

“Mmm. It sounds like an old wound indeed. But I think that before long, you’ll have to confront this fear you have of her, or you’ll never be able to move on with your life.”

She nods slightly, agreeing but not out loud. Not yet, at least. “Help me up, will you? I think I’m ready for another round.”

“Of course.”

The blade in her hand lifts with little effort on her part and, as before, helps to pull her to her feet. Kas opens her eyes and smiles with the barest edge of confidence; if she can take on a hoard like that, she can take on anything. “Let’s go, Isaac.”

“As you wish, Kassandra. I’m looking forward to seeing how you surprise me next.”

Chapter Text

Turns out that descending deeper into the Dunj works the same way one enters it; for the Mall, that means an escalator through an endless abyss where one must keep all hands and feet inside the ride at all times. At least it gives Kas a chance to catch her breath a bit longer before stepping almost immediately into a room filled with trash and giant, gaping holes in the floor.

“Okay, seriously, what Mall has holes in the floor?”

Isaac attempts a shrug that Kas feels more than can actually see. “Dunjs, concepts, and the human psyche. Frankly, we should be glad it’s not stranger.”

Kas grumbles, preparing some kind of counter argument about a line needing to be drawn somewhere, but the moment she takes a step into the room, the now familiar hum of tension strikes a chord through her and, once again, mannequins and security cameras appear. Only this time, she has to fight around obstacles that do little to actually protect her from the ranged attacks already flying towards her.

“Well this is just getting unfair!” The brunette runs forward towards the nearest mannequin, leaps up, and thrusts down through the creature’s head to land in the crouch beside it’s stunned, prone form. But no time to linger or savor; she’s fighting to win.

—————————————————— 

It takes significantly less time to fight off the monsters in this room than the last, but there were also far more in that room, so Kas only considers it a mild improvement. “I want to think I’m getting better,” she remarks while picking up piles of sugar that somehow stay a pile no matter how she fusses with them. “But at the same time, each time these things appear, I feel a little more… undone.”

Isaac jerks slightly in her grip, but speaks with his usual, even tone. “I… have only heard rumors, but there might be a phenomenon related to that.” He pauses for a question that does not come, so he presses onward under the piercing gaze of Kas. “Since monsters are a manifestation of your fear, they are also slightly a part of you. Destroying them typically returns that piece back to you, but not in the same way that the Dunj found it. Hrm… I’m struggling to find an analogy that works.”

“It’s defragmenting my heart, basically,” Kas says without skipping a beat, going back to her task of gathering coins and crafting items alike.

“Excuse me?”

“Defragment. In computing, especially back in the days of older hard disk drives, whenever you delete or add new data to a drive, it would leave gaps in the drive that the system would do their best to fill first before moving onto broader, emptier spaces. This meant that whenever a program needed to be loaded, it would have to scan the whole disk to make sure it found every part.”

Isaac, a bit out of his element in this regard, hesitates before asking, “Do explain how this relates to your ‘heart’, and what it means for your mental health?”

Kas shrugs. “I can’t exactly speculate on the latter, but the process of defragmentation involves going through and putting all the bits of data where they belong, where they’d be most efficient. If the Dunj is pulling my fears out all willy nilly, even if they’re the same fear, then it’s going to feel like I’m being torn apart, then put back together in a way that makes more sense to the Dunj.”

“Ah.” Isaac hums, continuing to hesitate but verbally now before finally heaving a sigh and saying what Kas has been thinking for awhile. “I’m not quite sure how to relate to that, but it sounds quite distressing for you on every level. So might I instead ask; why do you keep doing it?”

She frowns a little that he’s even asking, but rationalizes he must have a purpose for it. ( Damn teacher. ) “Because a defragmented disk runs faster. It makes for a healthy computer. And— and because I’m really enjoying myself, fighting these monsters with you. It’s the first time in— ” she stops, sucks in a breath, and growls like she’s really struggling with herself. “In what feels like forever, I’m enjoying something new. With a new person, in a new place. Of course it’s going to hurt…”

She gets up, brushing off her dress before heading for the next door. “But this was the point of me coming out to Verona Beach. To go beyond my limits and see what’s there. Plus Ultra.”

“Aha, Latin! And such a noble goal at that.”

Kas chuckles awkwardly, not wanting to mention she didn’t exactly learn the term in a classroom or from an encyclopedia article. Though tracing a source back to either anime or video game as her personal etymology is a bit tricky. “Erm, yeah! I love the saying, but I rarely get to really do anything with it; except maybe when I’m playing games with my clanmates.”

“Oh?”

“It’s a long story and I think we have… bigger things to deal with,” she says, trailing off while staring with mild discomfort at the contents of the otherwise empty room; sitting in the very center was yet another weapon.

“Ah, I see. This really is unfortunate; and to think, if we had not been able to defeat that hoard upstairs, this poor thing might have been left down here for who knows how long.”

Kas began to walk over, slowly and on the lookout for monsters. “Can’t weapons just wake up on their own?”

Once again, Isaac’s nodding is more a feeling than anything to her at this point. “Indeed we can, but if we’re injured, that represents damage to our spirits. To wake from such a state would take far longer than a simple nap; for some, it might even take days or weeks, depending on circumstances.”

“Guessing off hand that you all don’t need food or anything while in that form.”

Isaac chuckles. “You guess somewhat correctly. The desire is there, and we get the hunger pangs, which helps to dull our edges, but we won’t truly starve. That said, to hold our shape as a weapon for that long carries its own risks.” 

Kas shudders a little, not even wanting to think of them. So she crouches down by the weapon. “Then for their sake, I’d rather wake them up as quickly as possible.”

“Agreed.”

Up close, Kas can tell a lot more about the weapon in question; for one thing, they’re a dagger. Beautiful leather wrapped hilt, made of gold with a curled guard she vaguely remembers being more than just decorative, unlike the gems inlaid in it; one closer to the grip, and one up near where the hilt ends. The blade is short, nowhere near the length of a short sword, but definitely not short enough enough to be a pocket knife. The only thing keeping them from being an absolutely beautiful weapon in Kas’ eyes is the cruel chipping.

Where Sunder only had his tip shattered and chipped apart, this dagger had chunks nicked all along the length. Kas grips Isaac tighter. “She looks worse off than Sunder; will she still be okay?”

“Hard to say,” her partner responds, tone a touch more grave than Kas cares for. “If she can wake without assistance, like the sort a blacksmith might provide, then I daresay she’ll be just fine. As long as we are not fully shattered, our weapon forms can take nearly any level of punishment, and we will heal within a few days.”

Kas sighs out in something approaching relief, before pursing her lips, nodding and leaning closer to the dagger. “Excuse me? Can you hear me?”

It gives her no response, so she gently nudges the curled, golden guard. “Come on, please?”

Still nothing.

Kas sighs finally. “This feels like such an invasion,” she breathes out, though it still catches Issac’s ear.

She closes her hand around the handle of the dagger-person, and the first thing she notices is the dichotomy of material sensations; chilled gold that feels smooth and almost slick against the pads of her pinky and thumb, combined with the leather that makes up the rest of her grip being warmer, more supple, and giving her infinitely more grip over the weapon that felt so light, yet so balanced in her hand.

And then the spark shoots up her arm, then her spine; each time she does this, she swears she feels more. The scent of paint fumes hit her first, followed by a deep longing for people and places mingling with regret, but a hope for a new start. Anger, passion, pride, love. Love for people, for art. Her head spins with experiences she’s never known, and that’s even before she feels the charge she’s gotten the most used to.

In her mind’s eye, she can feel herself flitting about, dodging more easily without Issac’s weight, thrusting into enemies suddenly mystified that she’s not there, only to slam down and punish them all for not keeping better track of her. Graceful and deadly, more like a ballerina than a warrior, but--

“What the HELL?”

( Ah crap. )

“Could you just not, like, grab me without warning? I know that there’s this tradition of “ choose your weapon ”, but consent is important.”

Kas, cheeks flaring up, looks to Isaac for insight, support, anything, only to receive nothing; something like a thought vibrates through her head, “ Face your fears .”

So she sighs, bows her head, and apologies. “I’m sorry. But you weren’t waking up from being talked to or nudged, and I was hoping that holding you would wake you up like it did-- w-well, that part doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does matter, but… no. I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t throw a lecture at you when I don’t know what’s going on.”

Kas nods and loosens her grip on the dagger so that they can pull away whenever it suits them. “I get it. Let me guess; you were out alone when someone knocked you out and the next thing you know you’re here, being held by a complete stranger?”

“Exactly! Ugh, and my blade freaking hurts and there are all these mon… sters. Huh, guess there aren’t actually that many. Weird; did you do that?”

Isaac chooses then ( traitor ) to join in the conversation. “It was a joint effort. We’re glad to see you conscious, truly.”

“Ah, right. Well, thanks for waking me up. I’m Valaria, and it’s… sort of nice to meet you.”

“Kas,” she says, not missing how much easier this is than it had been with Sunder. “It’s nice to meet you too, Valaria. I think you were probably abducted. The floor above here had a guy named Sunder who was in a situation a lot like yours. Sorry to say he didn’t have any more details about it than you, though.”

Valaria groans, either out of pain or disappointment, but the way it flows up Kas’ arm is completely welcome; her tone is completely and utterly different from Isaac, and does very little to cool down her likely tomato red face. “Damn. This really sucks.”

The Wielder of the group makes a sympathetic noise, partly because there’s nothing she can add to that, partly because she doesn’t trust herself to speak right this moment.

Once again, Isaac speaks up, “Perhaps you would like an escort back to the escalator? Though we can’t leave, I believe since the Dunj made an escort for Sunder, it should make one for you as well.”

Kas perks up, “Yeah, wait, I thought the Dunj kept you trapped in here. What gives?”

Valaria wriggles lightly in the brunette’s grasp, almost but not quite pulling out. “Explanation later, just please start walking if we’re doing this. I-- look, I hate to say this Kas, but I don’t know you, and I don’t really trust you right now.”

That stung, but Kas smiles like it doesn’t. “Hey, I get it. You’re out of sorts, in pain, and, for all you know, I could be the one that did this to you.” She starts walking back the way they came, the escalator practically in sight as soon as she turns around. “It’s perfectly fair to not trust each other. But, if it helps, I… trust you, at least. After all, you’re the one that could shank me at a moment’s notice.”

The dagger laughs lightly. “Good point, but I can tell; you’re experienced enough to know that I’d be trusting you way more.” That makes the fledgling Wielder blink. ( The hell is she talking about? ) “But I think I am going to be needing some extra cash… If you don’t mind splitting what you earn down here, I think we can work something out.”

Kas still remembers the spark between them, that connection and the feeling of what she could do with Valeria, if only given the chance. “Definitely. Think you can remember my number.”

“No, but you can take down mine.”

Valeria slips out of her grip and dictates her number to Kas, who promptly sends a text to make sure her number is received. “Got it.”

“Good. Ciao, for now.” She starts to bob away, leaving the pair behind right at the door, apparently not bothering to have them take her the rest of the way. And, as Isaac speculated, the escalator lets her go up.

Isaac’s usual hum comes out differently, and she can feel his judgement, ever so slightly. She looks down, frowning a bit. “What?”

“I’m just thinking about what you said before, right before that large attack on the floor above. You were far calmer, more capable of taking the lead in conversation, and even managed to convince a clearly disoriented dagger that you might be more ally than not.”

Kas tenses. “Right. That. So I— talking to swordpeople when they’re swords just feels easier than when they’re… people.” She shrugs her shoulders, trying to play it off as not that big of a deal.

“I can think of a number of reasons for why that might be, but there is one other element to consider here,” Isaac says, tone suddenly more serious and demanding. She relaxes her shoulders and nods ( out of flight or fight mode, dummy ) “Before, you mentioned that ‘this part’ felt like an invasion. Were you referring to when you grabbed Valeria’s hilt?”

Kas nods, shrugging a little. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t it?”

“Kasandra, what exactly do you feel when you touch a weapon.. Or, for that matter, when you’re holding me?”

She can tell how serious he is about this. Kas chews her lip and fidgets a bit with a stitch on her dress; anything to distract herself. ( No point in lying. It is Isaac. ) “I feel emotions. Memories. Snippets of who they are as a person, and how to fight with them as a weapon. And every time I do it, it only seems to get stronger; with you I just got this jolt of like, muscle memories. With Sunder, I felt the last thing he drank and some other, weirder feelings along with those. And with Valeria… I got so much I can’t even describe it in words.”

There’s a pause between them that goes from short to pregnant far, far too quickly, Isaac clearly thinking very hard if the feelings traveling up her sword arm are any indication. She dares not look away or even move much, though; it feels rude, even dangerous to interrupt him if it’s that important to him.

“Before I say this, Kasandra, know that I am not trying to make a judgement or to insult you. Are we on the same page there?”

She blinks, but nods, dumb and quiet because she can hardly believe she needs to clarify that. “Of course. I’ve known that about you for the last half of a floor.”

“Right. Of course you did,” Isaac exhales, sounding suddenly so very tired. “Kas, what you’re describing is something distinctly unusual for Wielder-Weapon pairs. The kind of thing that you hear more about in story books or in ancient history. Wielders who are capable of great things because they can forge a truly deep bond with their weapon partners, simply through combat. I should have seen it sooner; your skill today has been nothing short of miraculous, especially given the odds against you.”

“Isaac,” Kas interrupts, just a bit nervous by this point. “I’m not sure I’m getting what you’re saying. I’m not a knight or anything, just a girl from Chicago with anxiety.”

“Indeed. And also incredible reflexes, adaptability, perception, and an uncanny ability to bond with and attract weapons. While I’m certain that any of those qualities separately, especially the last, are perfectly normal for a young woman like you, together it spells out something rather… unique.”

Her voice comes trembling despite her very best to avoid letting it. He’s not judging, but whatever he’s talking about sounds like yet another problem for her to struggle with. “Just spit it out, Isaac. Please.”

“Of course. My apologies, I-- I should not be drawing this out.” The estoc pauses and Kas can feel vibrations up her arm. “Kasandra, you are, to the best of my knowledge, a Blade Dancer.”

She blinks once, then twice, before just looking at Isaac with narrowed eyes and raw frustration plain across her scrunched features. “Okay, now explain what the hell that means.”

He sighs, sounding as exhausted by this as she feels., “Let us find a place to sit. I believe this might take some time…”

Chapter Text

Isaac and Kas find a storefront with chairs in it, the pair surmising it’s supposed to be an out-of-business bookstore. It takes Kas a bit of effort to move things around enough for them to get two plush, comfy chairs in place that both can actually face each other for a conversation.

“If you wouldn’t mind letting go of my hilt? I think now would be a good time to take a break from our previous lessons anyway.”

Kas nods, still looking incredibly serious as she lets Isaac go fully, only to watch him transform as Sunder had earlier. At least he wears a shirt; a stylish jacket, nice dress shirt, cufflinks , dress pants… but no tie, and the only “ritzy” accessories he has are those damned cufflinks he saw fit to put on in his transformation, and a lapel pin that matches his weapon form. Curious.

A well shaved head with clean lines, stunning and intense dark eyes, but a smile that gives his face a special sort of warmth and— 

And Kas really, really has to look away from him, cheeks heating up.

“Enchante, Kasandra, truly this time.”

She tries to respond, but it takes swallowing a lump in her throat to get out, “P-pleasure is, uh, definitely mutual. But I think we have less than, you know, pleasurable things t-to discuss.”

Isaac chuckles, though it sounds less happy than the other times, and she misses the accompanying feeling that came with his laughter. She rubs her right arm without thinking too much about it. ( Empy. ) “Very true,” he says with a soft smile, gesturing at the chairs. “Please, let’s sit. You need your rest as much as I do.”

Kas does as she’s told ( submissive little-- nOPE! ) and takes a seat while Isaac does the thing. She leans forward and closes her legs, arms on her knees in rapt attention of her instructor thrice over now. Isaac, meanwhile, leans back, arms on the arms of the chair as he sinks into it with a relaxed sigh. “So, to begin with, just know that any worry you might have about having some kind of effect on me, or Sunder, or Valeria, is entirely on your part, and your Blade Dancer abilities should have nothing to do with it.”

She snorts at that and looks away, but Isaac continues. “I mean it. From what I can tell, your ability is still very raw. I’ll need to do more research on Blade Dancers, but from what little I know of the tales, it’s a skill that one must hone to reach the heights that made them-- or I suppose your kind, mythical in the first place.”

“But then how can you be sure?” Kas asks hopefully. “What if I’m just— just good at bonding with you three?”

He shakes his head. “I’m afraid that while that could be possible, from how you’ve described it, it’s highly unlikely. When a Wielder and weapon pair up and fight together, there is certainly a connection, no doubt. But it is far more mundane a thing than what you seem to be experiencing. For example, as a Wielder gains a feel for the weight of their partner, a weapon will understand how their partner likes to move. As a result, when the Wielder needs to thrust, the weapon knows to gather their strength for a thrust. It becomes instinctual; but even that can take many battles together if the pair aren’t compatible.

“But for a Blade Dancer, it goes beyond that. There’s a rhythm in their movements that only the pair of them can truly feel, a sharing of senses and experience to a point that, at times, becomes almost precognitive: they know what the other wants to do before even they do. And beyond even that, as if that weren’t enough, the bonded pair will share something as intimate as muscle memory. The very skills one needs for combat? Will spread from one to the other, allowing for them to fight as if they were one person, with the training of two. A weapon, an extension of their Wielder, and vice versa.”

By the end of his explanation, Kas’ resistance to the idea cracks fully and she’s forced to give up the fight, relenting and putting her head in her hands with a quiet groan. 

“I’m sorry, if this is upsetting for you. I know it’s a lot to take in, but—”

“It’s incredibly anime.”

Isaac blinks, stunned momentarily by her blunt interruption. “Wh— excuse me?”

Kas jerks up, unshed tears in her eyes and frustration clear on her face. “It sounds like something out of an anime. Hell, I’m sure it’s probably even inspired countless writers! All the anime and action shows and games I play, and I’ve missed it! This whole time, my whole life? I could’ve been making connections with at least weapon friends?! Just… just by— ugh! No, terrible, fucking terrible line of thinking.”

She furiously tries to scrub the tears from her eyes, but only manages to irritate them further, the pain making her growl and smack her fist on the arm of the chair. “How long then? Huh? How long do you think it’ll be before you start getting my memories? Or before I start raiding your head for precious childhood memories?! I— I don’t want to do that to people, Isaac! I feel awful doing what I did to Valeria already, and if this is going to happen every single time I wield, then how can I even consider Dunjing any further?!”

Isaac reaches across the distance from them and takes one of her hands, before holding it with both. The flinch she gives seems to hurt him, but he only loosens his grip and begins to speak, slowly and calmly, like one would to an injured animal. ( I feel injured. I feel like a monster. )

“Kasandra, if what I’ve heard about the Blade Dancers is true, they can choose who they bond with. They don’t have to share their memories or talents with their partners. The fact that it’s happening without your control is most likely the result of your inexperience with it. If you give it more time, and train it, then you won’t have to worry about the darker aspects of what you are.”

She looks at him and sees no lies, no guile, and certainly nothing that might indicate that he’s trying to placate her for the sake of it. He’s a genuine guy— the first in a long time she can make eye contact with for even half this long.

Kas nods, looking solemn but certain despite the panic clearly bubbling just under the surface. “If you’re this sure, even if it’s just a rumor, I guess I have to believe it, for my own sake… Alright. I’ll keep Dunjing, and wielding, until I can get control of this at the very least. But I don’t like— I don’t like the idea of keeping this from others. It feels like some heavy secret, and one that’ll take a ton of explaining, but… I don’t want to wield another weapon person without them knowing there’s a chance that I’ll invade their most private memories.”

He nods, a smile returning to his face. There’s something else there, too: something like pride and… relief. “I’m very glad to hear that. Then in that case, are you ready to continue?”

( Honestly no. I still feel raw and awful. Like I’m less than human. Or more? I don’t want to be special, I just want to be me and… and that’s selfish. It’s selfish to let this rile me up so much. Isaac is a person who can turn into a freaking estoc, for fuck’s sake. If he can handle being that level of different from me, I can handle being this level of different from others. )

“... Yeah, I think I am. Let’s Dunj, Isaac,” Kas says, that same glimmer of confidence she felt before shining through this new darkness. 

And Isaac nods and transforms into her hands without a second thought, leaving her to push herself up with his help for the third time. “Then let us continue our original lessons, Kas.”

But as he does, she feels the spark return to her, traveling through her arm and settling near the joint in her shoulder as she grits her teeth, tensing up entirely in some vain attempt to stop what feels like magic. There’s no surge of muscle memory, but she does feel something new that trickles past her feeble attempts to block it out.

( A man, standing before an imposing figure. He’s always been on the defensive, his entire life, and this man has clearly never had to level a defense in front of him, but now the familiar blur of a man is an estoc, demanding in words she cannot hear but does understand the meaning of. He wants to be heard. To be understood. But the man he confronts becomes a saber, and the duel between is as fierce as it is unnecessary. She feels sick, and angry, and is just barely able to separate the feelings enough to know what is his and what is hers. )

Kas snaps back to reality, feeling a new sort of strength in her arm, eyes wide. If Isaac notices, he’s tactfully waiting for her to recover… or not. But she takes a deep breath, tightens her grip on her partner, and exits the store.

( Compared to all this, the Dungeon had better watch the fuck out. )

—————————————————

To the Dungeon’s credit, it did at least try to throw a few curveballs at her, in so much as a quasi-sentient structure can. Kas ended up stumbling upon a huge room filled with far more holes and far more monsters and loot containers than normal, only to realize that room connected to the escalator to the next floor, which meant backtracking, finding a room with a glowing circle that, as soon as she stepped into it, turned the room into a “challenge room” that summoned up more camera monsters who dropped piles money when defeated, a safe containing a recipe for a gourmet cupcake ( red velvet is gourmet now? ), and an arcade of all things.

“Why an arcade,” she flat out asks Isaac.

The estoc bobs up and down in a shrug, likely out of the same exasperation as her. “Hard to say. As I said, I had little chance to play games like you did as a child or even as a young adult. Things like this always seemed like a waste of time.”

“Ouch. Harsh but fair, Isaac.”

She felt something like embarrassment ( that has a physical feeling now, awesome. ) vibrate up her arm as Isaac stammered out, “W-well, that isn’t to say that it is a waste of time, just that I never saw it as a worthy use of my time-- oh I am… not helping myself.”

Kas chuckles softly. “It’s alright, really. I live by the motto that if it brought you joy doing it, then nothing you’ve done is wasted.”

“Ah… A very worthy philosophy--.”

“Which is why I do think I’ve wasted thousands of hours of my precious life playing games I used to enjoy with people who were never that good of people to begin with. So, point to you, my estoc friend.”

“... You live a complicated life, Kassandra Woods.”

She just snorts, “Like you’re one to talk~”

The pair continue their casual banter back to the escalator leading further into the Dunj, the long trip giving Kas the time to explain what a clanmate is, which lead to things like “raids” and “MMORPGS” and the like, the previous question about why the Dunj would spawn them an arcade as a place of respite left far behind.

Such a shame the poor man leaves the conversation more confused than he entered it.

———————————————————

The third floor of the Dunj offers up something new almost immediately; as soon as she leaves the escalator the flying mannequin heads that had appeared sparsely before, even during the hoard rush on the first floor, came rushing at her, eager to slam into her. Thankfully, they can’t take half as much punishment as the cameras or mannequins, so a simple sidestep and thrust combo/flurry takes care of it quickly.

The troubling thing about the whole exchange was that the head flew out of a sliding door. One it had opened itself. “I kind of thought the monsters couldn’t… do that? Use the doors, I mean.”

Isaac hums in agreement. “It seems that the Dunj really is evolving with you. I don’t know why it’s targeting you so aggressively, but the only thing that makes sense to me is that perhaps your issues run deep enough that they’re straining against the “laws” of the Dunj. At least in slight ways.”

“Guess that makes sense.”

The pair continue on, fighting more and more monsters, collecting loot ( sweet, blocks of plastic. Love the sound they make, too. ) and soothing injuries along the way.

“Dunno how much coffee I can actually stand to drink before I get jittery-- actually, does magic healing coffee even have caffeine in it?”

“If it does, do tell me - the way some of my clients work, they might need a trip through the Dunj just to get through the day.”

The further they go, the easier it becomes to talk while fighting, especially as the monsters become more predictable. Isaac talks in depth about fencing, treating their combat more like a lesson than a fight for survival, and in turn Kas talks about how the monsters are bothering her less and less, even if they seem to take just as much damage.

Finally though, after a (extremely) small fortune in change, a pile of glass beads, sugar, plastic, and wire, and enough Zines to actually sell at one of the empty bookstores that littered the floor, the pair clear the final room of the floor that blocks access to the escalator.

“You really are improving,” Isaac says, praising as much as he is just observing. “Most students of mine would take half a dozen lessons to get anywhere close to your level— though I suppose fencing lessons and fighting to stay unharmed are different things entirely.”

“Risk is definitely a solid motivator, but honestly? Your coaching is really helping. I barely even feel your hand guiding mine anymore.”

There’s a quiet moment of mutual pride between the two as Kas takes her first step onto the escalator to descend into yet another dark abyss.

——————————————————

The fourth floor reminds Kas of the second and third floors, though for completely different reasons. It reminds her of the second because it starts off with a large, pitt-filled room that made combat difficult enough without double the usual enemies. It reminds her of the third because it throws yet another curveball at her; the mannequins here are different.

Not all of them, but some have claws instead of simple hands, and sport holes gouched out of where their eyes and mouth should be that are filled with bloodshot eyeballs that jerk about, looking freely in random directions, and perfect white teeth that hide a second set of jagged fangs behind them.

The monster doesn’t fight any differently, but it makes Kas sick to her stomach, and feels infinitely better to destroy it, even if it’s more durable and seems to swing harder, filling her with a deeper sense of danger at every near miss. After the first room is clear, she raises Isaac up and asks him flat out, “Are the monsters going to keep getting more twisted like this? Because seriously , this is going to get out of hand if they do” 

The estoc tries to pull away from her face, surprisingly sheepish in the face of his more confident, agitated Wielder. “I did mention that the further you go, the deeper your insecurities become.”

“Insecurities I can deal with, but if I keep going down floors, we’re going to dip into Silent Hill territory, and I am not prepared to be any of the protagonists from those games.”

“... I assume this will be the newest topic you enlighten me on as far as video games go,” Isaac responds with an ( increasingly familiar ) tired, if amused, vibrational tone.

Kas huffs indignantly. “You assume correctly.”

——————————————————— 

Somewhere along the fourth floor, Kas notices something odd in the wooden planks barring an entrance to a set of stairs that the Dunj normally wouldn’t allow them entry into anyway. “Huh. Hey, Isaac, this place basically works on its own logic, and that logic seems to go off video game standards, right?”

“I’d say it mostly just works on what is convenient for the delvers, allowing them to focus on the parts of the experience that most matter to the Dunj itself, but yes. From what you’ve told me of video games, it works on a similar logic.”

“Cool. Gonna use to smash this then.”

“Wait, wh—” and before he can finish the thought, Kas slashs vertically through the boards with the odd blue glow— only to reveal a proper set of steps that actually seem to go somewhere.

“Oh hell yes, this place has secret rooms on top of everything else?” Kas’ grin stretches from ear to ear, fist pumping in excitement while Isaac just radiates confusion.

“W-well, yes!” He tries desperately to cover, but there’s a reality sinking in there, and they both know it, with or without quasi-magical Dancer powers. “I was aware that certain hiddens paths existed but… but not how to… find them.”

“Lemme guess,” Kas begins with a sly smirk. “You and your partner were swinging about wildly in fights and just so happened to stumble on a secret room?”

His silence speaks volumes, and the brunette doesn’t feel the need to rub it in, a spring in her step as she heads up into the secret room.

The interior is no different from some of the smaller spaces the Dunj has displayed before, though Kas does say, “It feels like the backroom at a mall. Like we aren’t supposed to be here.”

There’s only one path, a short one at that, and as soon as the Wielder steps through the doors separating entrance from hall, she realizes the wide space is a trap: for every push forward she makes, a new group of enemies appears. First, the flying heads with their ducking bites and furious dive bombing. Next, the awful nightmare mannequins, but even a group of three that hit harder and speak harsher insults prove to be no match for Kas at this point. Finally, from behind piles of junk, security cameras shudder into being and she’s forced to strike through the Dunj containers or dodge their attacks to reach them.

But finally, once she reaches the end, all that remains is a sliding glass door that opens to a golden safe, spotlit and on a central platform in the center of a large pit, four bridges leading to it from each cardinal direction.

“Oh, hell yes,” Kas whispers while rushing across the bridge to kick the safe open. As the glow clears and the item within settles on the ground, she recognizes it immediately. A… subscription card? She picks it up and her eyes widen. “Oh fuck the hell yes !”

Isaac lets out a slightly annoyed huff. “Language, please. Though I am glad you’re feeling more comfortable around me--”

“Shshsh, yeah, I am too, really, but,” she interrupts him to hold the card out to him so he can see as well as she can. “This is a card to let me subscribe to a new Zine!! Says if I fill it out, drop it in any mailbox, and wait 6 to 26 hours? A new Zine will start appearing any Dunj I visit!”

“My my, no wonder you seem so excited; you’ve been quite enjoying your draconic fireballs.”

“Exactly! And yeah, sure this one is a fashion Zine, but I’m still excited to see what that could even mean! ” 

Isaac chuckles. “Well, the sooner we can reach an elevator, the sooner you can find out, yes?”

“Yes! Let’s get back to it!!”

Stuffing the card into her bag, Kas takes off running through the Dunj, grin on her face and partner in hand. Whether she recognizes it or not, said partner is just as glad to see his current wielder so carefree.

—————————————————— 

The only strange thing left on the floor they find is a room full of massage chairs, which Isaac deems to be not appropriate to use at this time, but he does take the time to mention that he had been trained in massage some time ago. Kas requests a demonstration sometime; he blushes, she doesn’t seem to know why. And by this point, combat, even against large numbers of more twisted enemies, almost feels routine.

She makes so many close brushes with defeal, feeling like her will to keep moving forward is all but drained, but then she thinks of her coffee, feels her bag get a bit lighter, and her wounds mend and her strength returns. ( So glad I figured out that trick. )

In time, the room is clear, and the two are free to proceed. “Alright,” Kas begins, looking pumped up and excited suddenly. “Fifth floor, let’s do this. Scared as hell what’ll be in store, but I am ready for it! ”

Isaac, however, fails to see the significance in what the fifth floor of a Dunj means, and once again the two share a moment of silent contemplation, her in horror, him in confusion. “What? Kasandra really, if you know something I don’t about Dunjs--”

“Isaac, what floor did you fight your first boss on?”

“Well— … Oh. I suppose it could have been on the fifth, now that you mention it. But how--”

Kas shakes her head. “In dungeon crawlers, the game subgenre that is, the fifth floor is almost always the first boss floor. It’s a staple. The numbers after that are hazy and based on difficulty and the type of game, but for the first boss? Fifth. Always. Unless the dungeon itself is the second or third, at which point logic is determined by that dungeon and that one alone.”

And once again, Isaac finds himself both in awe and horror at how much he’s missed out on the ways of Dunjs by writing off video games as a waste of time. “It feels like I could have skipped most of my lessons on Dungeon Delving if I’d just said the words, “It’s like a similarly named genre of video game”, Kas.”

“You probably could have,” she says, nonchalant but also smiling a bit. “But would I have been at all in the headspace to believe you three floors ago? Definitely not. So this has all worked out the best way it possibly could… Though, I am a little light on healing coffee for a boss fight.”

At least Isaac has some expertise in that arena. “Rest assured, there will be plenty of additional medical kits in the boss room; that much I can be certain of, without any of your “gamer” knowledge required.”

“Hah~ Alright then. Let’s go see if we can beat a boss. Together?”

“Together, Kassandra.”

—————————————————— 

The floor the pair steps out onto is nothing like the previous four. For one thing, there’s an elevator, doors already open and inviting as soon as they get off the escalator. Second, forward progress is blocked by a gate locked with a single padlock. And third, the only path leads to a room that screams boss room to Kas and Isaac alike.

Just for the sake of trying, Kas tries to slip by or pry the gate apart, but the metal is made of the same conceptual material as the walls that protect Delvers from falling into the endless black abyss: it’s immutable, resistant to all attempts to circumvent, and somehow only feels as real as it needs to be to function. Still, Kas steels her nerves and holds Isaac in both hands while approaching the sliding glass door.

“I know I’m as ready for this as I can get this run, but— Isaac, I’d understand if you would prefer just heading back up to the mall right here and now.” She can feel his surprise, but Kas shakes her head. “Blade Dancer or not, I am a novice at this and, first boss or no, this is probably going to be tough. If you would rather we just call it quits, I understand. We can always try again another time when I’m stronger.”

At first, there’s silence between them, and in that moment Kas seriously considers going to the elevator, but then Isaac begins to chuckle, then laugh. Not quite uproariously, but certainly loudly, in a way she recognizes as relieved.

“For a moment there,” he finally manages to choke out, laughter still coloring his tone. ( I love it. It sounds so… nice. Who knew a laugh could make you sound so much happier— wow, okay, that is fucking sad. Damn it brain. ) “I was really starting to believe the myth. The all-powerful Blade Dancer, who only gets stronger the more they fight, the longer they clash! But… you aren’t a myth, Kassandra Woods. You’re a person, same as I. Come on now; let’s face your fear. Together.”

A smile cuts Kas’ face almost in half as she nods, trying to ignore the tears in her eyes.. “Together!” ( He believes in me. He really believes in me. Who else besides Mom has ever felt that way? )

The doors slide open easily for her and her partner.

——————————————————

The inside of the room is nothing that either weapon or Wielder could’ve expected. The atrium's tall space has pieces of broken or damaged mannequins everywhere : hanging from the ceiling on wires and threads, strewn across the floor, nailed to the walls. And in the center of it all, of this twisted nightmare space, is a single mannequin… 

If by single, one defines it as a single entity. Constructed with no less than 3 sets of legs, one set of arms, four or five torsos bolted together form the bulk of its body, and easily six heads attached at various angles, the mannequin is no facsimile of a human anymore; it’s now a twisted representation of a spider.

A spider with mouths and eyes carved. All. Over. It.

Kas swallows hard. “S-so about that together thing--”

“You can do this, Kas.”

“Uuuugh, why did you have to say that?! Now I really have to fight it!!”

At their banter, the beast stirs from what could have loosely been considered slumber, legs cracking and clicking as it turns to look at them with most of its heads. The familiar thrum of danger ripples through the air for Kas, the door behind Kas locks and the terrible monster roars in a chorus of hateful voices, insulting her face, her voice, her hair, her clothing; everything she could hate about herself in voices that, together, are so loud and discordant the have force behind them.

Kas winces, both at the psychic trauma screaming at her to run away, and at the actual volume of the beast. But all it takes is a tremor of something similar to her own feelings going up her arm to remember; she’s not alone, either in fact or in feeling. Steel in hand and in mind, she takes off running as she has a dozen times, with the beast immediately swiping at her with its hand-leg. She drops low, sliding under its attack, but as it misses it leaves deep gouges in the floor that hiss and spark; whatever this thing is, even the Dunj doesn’t seem to like it.

She ignores her worries about her monster and instead launches a flurry of thrusts at the its side— 

That feels as if she’s hitting steel, rather than plastic; she does nothing and has no effect. “Shit,” is all Kas can get out before the thing tries again, this time kicking out with a leg on its side, and she has to roll away to avoid serious injury. “Right! Kiting strategy; this thing has to have a weakness!”

“Perhaps,” Isaac warns as his partner runs from the beast that only skitters faster when it isn’t allowed a chance to strike. “Or it’s possible our bond is not yet strong enough. Or that you haven’t conquered your fears sufficiently! Bosses are the apex of a fear you’re manifesting, and this one is worse than anything I’ve heard of, let alone seen!”

“Well, aren't I just doubly special!!” The girl leaps over a double swipe from the creature’s front arm-legs, before slamming the basket hilt of her partner onto one of the creatures head, making it scree angrily. And while it does seem to do a bit of damage, all of its parts ripple with fury as it scuttles back. Its legs tense up as its body lowers to the ground— 

“Shiiit!” Without thought, without hesitation, she dives and rolls as far as she can before the “spider-quin” makes a leap that slams down onto where she had just been standing. “Okay!! It likes swipes and jumping, and doesn’t like heavy attacks or hits to the face!”

“Then let us work from there, shall we?!”

The pair continue to lash out, alternating between speedy thrusts that comboed into the stronger swarm of blade technique their other opponents rarely let them use without sufficient setup, with both estoc and wielder looking for a weakness, some gap in the creature’s defenses where it took more damage than less.

But through their efforts, Kas ends up sacrificing speed and evasiveness for even the chance to end this quickly; the spider monster’s revenge attacks from the side don’t feel as awful as they look, but they still hit harder than anything the Dunj had thrown at her yet, and she has to immediately “consume” a coffee just to get through the pain and return her focus on the fight. 

It’s only when the great monster skitters back to prepare for yet another leap that she catches it; the joints in the legs, normally solid balls the same color as the rest of the creature, roll about and reveal dark, shiny sides to them for only the briefest of moments. Fueled by desperation and pain, she sprints forward and thrusts with all her might. “Isaac—!”

“I see it! Fleche, now!!”

The energy that surrounds them in their heavier attacks practically explodes from her as Kas thrusts into the joint connecting the spider’s left front leg to its body, piercing through with ease and making leg snap off entirely. It explodes into a burst of smoke while the creature roars and swings its remaining legs about haphazardly.

But it doesn’t flip its joints back around.

In a moment of clarity, Kas feels her exhaustion, her pain from every glancing blow and solid hit the creature dealt, all of it just falls away and feels the world slow down. ( Next strike is coming from the right. ) She ducks down under the arm-leg and thrusts into the exposed joint on the leg behind the one she just destroyed, watching as it practically explode before it even comes off, sending the creature off balance for a moment.

( Next, it's going to try and ram me, bite me with its heads. ) She dodges to the right just in time for it to lunge forward, putting her in place to thrust out and strike it back most right leg with one last heavy thrust. Finally, it rears up and ( Gonna slam down, back off. ) she rolls backwards just as it crashes the bulk of its body to the ground and emits a shockwave that leaves her feeling uneasy, but not hurt or paralyzed as she feels she should be.

“Kassandra, what—”

“I know, Isaac, but wait till after. Holy shit. ”

They still have plenty of fight ahead of them; the creature skitters, off-balance but still quick, towards one of the walls and slams into it, knocking loose partial bits of mannequins that begin to fly or crawl at them.

Compared to the enemies of the floors above, even these are more durable, but unlike them, they do just rush mindlessly; a single fireball ignites most of them and the combined force of their heavy combos and the fire's lingering effect leaves them melted and broken in short order

Kas looks up and sees something infuriating: the spider-quin has already found a new leg for itself, and it’s attempting to affix a second when the eyes all look towards her. “Shit, it can repair itself?!”

“So it would appear!”

“Then we’ll just have to make it too mad to do anything so rational! ” The pair’s thoughts synchronize; a heavy strike to the heads triggered a jump attack, even when the spider-quin would prefer to try to mince her with its legs. And when it was preparing to jump... A vicious grin spreads across her face as she runs full tilt for the spider, jumps, and uses one of the creature’s legs as a springboard to get even more height, coming down  with the full force of Isaac’s power, focusing his rain of swords onto the mass of heads while his actual glanced off the thing’s terribly armored back and sent her rolling off of it.

The Boss’ roars double in volume, and it begins its furious scuttle back, practically skidding into a crouch to jump even faster this time, but Kas is already running, eyes practically alight with the realization of what’s about to happen.

“One more time,” she cries out!

“Together,” Isaac responds in kind!

And as one, bodies alight with Dancer’s grace and the “aura” of Isaac’s own power, they call out together, “ FLECHE !”

An explosive, lunging thrust into the creature’s exposed joint makes it explode violently, sending the newly restored left front limb bouncing across the floor. It howls and screams and begs, but neither weapon nor Wielder has ears to hear its deceptions in the moment. It’s already trying to strike with its other front leg, (Not even a challenge, duck under it, get on its right.) which she dodges by simply double-stepping just of it’s reach to the left, only to lash out with two quick thrusts that strikes that leave their own afterimages and carry enough force to make her arm vibrate. Enough force to pop the joints like soap bubbles and make the middle two legs on the right side explode in a burst of hazy smoke and screams loud enough to send it flying away from the monster.

The mouths all over it scream that she’s a terrible, awful person, too vicious and cruel to— she both obliges and cuts it off by jumping onto its back again, throwing it off balance once more as it struggles to stay standing with only one leg left on the right to keep upright with, before jumping off and landing in a crouch with Isaac in both hands, his phantasmal estocs targeting the joints with fencer precision and making them explode behind her.

The chorus loses all cohesion, screaming with no rhyme or reason as it collapses to the ground with a sick, heavy-sounding crack. Scrambling about, it tries to turn itself andt lash out at them with it’s one remaining clawed limb. Kas rises up just in time for it to get into position, and calmly hops over the hobbled swing, landing on top of the limb and balancing herself with both feet; now, no matter how much it jerks or tries to throw its body around, it can do little but try to throw her off— and Kas has no intention of giving it the chance.

“Any last words, you creepy fuck,” she asks while flipping Isaac around, taking him by the blade in both hands, the pair glowing brighter by the second.

And suddenly, the creature stops its violent jerking. The eyes all move as one and look at her, before they all begin to melt, the creature rattling and whimpering until only one pair remains: a set in the head nearest to Kas’ eye level, and those change as well. Taking on a sickeningly familiar shade of green, but ringed with a wicked red she’d never seen before. And it’s from that head that one voice speaks.

“ You finally came, Kas… … See you at the bottom; I’ll be waiting~ ” The voice speaks smooth and soft and completely unlike any noise the creature should be capable of making… but in that moment, Kas doesn’t feel like she’s facing the boss any longer.

“... Looking forward to it,” she says, voice hard as steel. And with that, she brings to hilt down like a sledgehammer, force building as Isaac falls until he strikes the head that smiles with absolute glee at the pair of them.

The impact is explosive enough that Kas can feel it through her entire body, but in response she feels something else rocket back from her chest, through her arms— and out through Isaac just in time for him to glow blindingly for only a split second, but it carries the blow straight through the previously indestructible head, shattering it like porcelain, and right into the body of the beast. The glow lances through the spider-quin, all the way to the back of its body, leaving thin cracks in its wake, before the whole monster begins to shake and jerk.

And then the estocs, glowing brighter than Kas has ever seen them, explode out from within the monster’s body, shattering pieces of it in a reverse-rain, ejecting violently until the monster is little more than than the chunk of body that still holds the remaining heads and the arm Kas is standing on.

The leg beneath Kas’ foot gives one final death spasm before vanishing in a burst of smoke, and the rest of it begins to follow suit, shattered pieces included, until the entire space around her is a whirl of smoke and lights that blind her, until she hears the sounds of fanfare— though it does glitch out slightly at the end.

The smoke fades quickly after  and all that remains of the distorted room is a regular mall atrium space, albeit a small one with no way to access the second level - and a small pile of items in front of Kas. Even the remaining mannequin pieces have vanished in the whirlwind of smoke.

The Wielder takes a shaky step forward before crumpling to her knees; her head hurts like crazy, her body aches all over, and it feels like her sword arm especially is broken , but she still has the strength to pick up the small pile of bills and coins, glass beads, design document for a “Leather Jacket”, and a simple, brass key marked “Floor 5 Gate”.

Kas smirks, then giggles before falling backwards, laughing on her back while crossing Issac over her chest. “I cannot believe we pulled that off,” she rasps through the breathless giggle fit.

Isaac, however, is far more reserved in his celebration. “Indeed, but we certainly did do it. I have no idea how, especially with how freakishly unique your Boss was, but… we did it.”

“Haaa,” Kas sighs out, gasping for air, before just grinning with her eyes closed; she could easily sleep right there. “Bet you never did anything like that before.”

“Are you referring to being able to see attacks before they actually happen, or the part where I unleashed techniques I’ve never been capable of on my own or with other Wielders?”

“Both? Both is good.”

Isaac sighs, going quiet right after. ( Wish he could feel what I’m feeling. Elation. Adoration. He’s so cute when he gets serious over my bullshit. ) “The first was so utterly alien I doubt I can properly describe how it felt, aside from saying this: You handled it sublimely. You reacted in ways that, were you even a moment slower could have meant our defeat. As for the second? That was… incredible. I’ve never felt more powerful than I did in your hands, in that fight. So to answer your question: no. I’ve never, in my life, done anything like that.”

Kas grins, ready to open her mouth and be the snarky jerk ( I am online ) when Isaac continues. “Thank you. For the chance to experience that, and for letting me be here when you destroyed your fear so utterly.”

“... I,” Kas stares at the ceiling, shaken by the sheer, unabashed honesty there. A genuine sentiment strong enough to cut through her high and remind her that she has had a really good teacher and partner for this Dunj. “Y-you’re welcome, Isaac. And thank you for letting me get this far at all. I… I literally could not have done this without you.”

“Yes… But that’s why we do this together. Because that’s how we all have to handle tasks bigger than ourselves.”

Kas pushes herself up with her good arm and starts to stand, but her legs are jelly filled with lead, and the hand holding Isaac would be useless even if she wasn’t. But Isaac is there, in a flash of smoke and light, as a human to help haul her up. She smiles up into his dark eyes and leans into his support. “Yeah. We’re stronger together.”

Without anything left to say or do aside from grabbing a few extra coffees from the boxes that had been scattered about, the pair stumble back to the elevator, and ascend out of the Verona Mall Dunj.

Chapter Text

Thankfully for both of them, the ride up the elevator is much shorter than the escalator rides down, at least in comparison. Isaac helps his student rest against one of the walls and fish out the cups of coffee from her bag.

Between one cup and the next, she manages to get out a raspy, “Thanks.”

“Think nothing of it. As far as I can tell, these do lose their power upon leaving, so it’s best to drink them now.”

Kas makes a grunting sound that might be construed as agreement, finishing off the second of her three before shaking her head. “Not what I meant.”

Isaac blinks, then nods and looks away. “Yes, I suppose it wouldn’t be. We… certainly went through a lot today, and I think we have a firm grasp on at least one of your insecurities. Progress has been made. And… you’re welcome, of course.”

She chuckles lightly and leans against the estoc, nodding along with what he’s saying. “But,” the younger wielder sips her last coffee, savoring this one a bit more than the others as her pain has been mostly chased away by the syrupy hot beverage. All that’s left is her arm, as much as she’s trying to ignore it. “There’s definitely more. And I dunno if the fears are going to keep evolving the deeper we get.”

At that, he nods, expression hardening into something more grim and determined. “You’re right… Might I ask a personal question?”

( I have an idea what it is. ) “I… I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m ready to face what I think you’re going to ask about.”

Isaac nods, but watches the numbers on the elevator rise too quickly for him to take this slowly. “I understand, but… may I at least attempt it? In the spirit of knowing your boundaries.

( Persistence isn’t a good look on him, but… screw it. ) “Go ahead,” she replies while closing her eyes.

“Thank you,” and when Isaac says it, she knows he means it. Head on his chest, she can practically feel his calm, steady heart beat. “Your boss monster, that… spider mannequin. When it spoke at the end, I could clearly understand it, Dancer synchronization or not. Did it mean something special to you?”

She smiles tiredly. ( I freaking called it. ) “Yeah, it did. But it was less the words themselves, and more the voice and eyes of the person who said that. And I… don’t want to go into it. Not right now, not ever really, but because I know it will make things easier going forward, I’ll say this; it was the voice of a person who nearly killed me. The personification of my greatest fears.

“... Oh. I— I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything less. I’m sorry for pressing.”

Kas shakes her head and chuckles a little at his awkwardness, bleeding into every word despite his attempts to say professional. ( Coping mechanism? Probably. ) “It’s fine, really. You had good reason to ask, and if we’re going to keep Delving together, you should know what you’re getting into.”

“Now who’s making good points? ... Kasandra, I’m assuming you’ve talked with someone about this. Professionally.”

“For a while,” she admits, sighing at the memories. “But no amount of talking or pills made the memories go away, or made connecting with others any easier. My Mom tried to urge me to keep it up, but having to go in every week, even every other week, to dredge up all the ways I felt used, betrayed, and hurt? It was a struggle that made even getting out of bed impossible. So I quit after about two years of it all. Kept the pills though; they take the edge off of the nightmares, at least.”

Isaac seems to hesitate before gently pulling the girl several years his junior into him, hugging her close. He’s just tall enough to rest his chin on her shoulder without needing to lower it too much. She melts after the briefest of flinches. “You are far stronger than you give yourself credit for, Kasandra. Truly.”

She tries to speak, but the words catch in her throat, leaving Isaac blind to interpret anything but the rolling shakes through her shoulder. The stresses of the day, the week prior to it, and even the years that went fully unresolved but often addressed begin to crash down on her, until she’s crying into him quietly, clutching at his jacket with one hand while trying not to outright sob or ruin his jacket, apologizing for herself again and again.

The elevator dings near silently to signal their arrival, but before Isaac can even reach the button to keep the doors closed, it lights up on its own; he writes it off as a quirk of the Dungeon and tightens his grip on his student. “It’s alright. You’re okay. You’re forgiven,” he softly whispers. His expression, particularly his smile, is bittersweet.

Neither are sure how long it takes before the crying stops and Kas needs to pull away, but it’s long enough for her arm to feel a little better, and for the lingering traces of the Dunj’s strange magic to fade from both of them. Isaac opens the doors to find the mall closing down for the evening, then takes a look at Kas, particularly her dress.

“How do you feel? Temperature wise, I mean,” he asks while the two walk out into the mall and towards the nearest exit.

She looks up at him, then sighs. “Sweaty, overheated… actually, now that you mention it, a little chilly?  The hell.”

The estoc sighs softly. “Yes, I was afraid of that. And you did say this was your first time in Verona Beach.” He’s already shrugging off his jacket as they exit the doors to a world far different from the one Kas left behind.

Blue skies, sunny rays, and crowds that flowed like waters had been replaced with deep, dark purples illuminated only by a fiery orange off to the East that sets the mountain range there ablaze, with the moon rising high in the sky to shine brilliantly down on those left to wander the streets of Verona.

It takes Kas’ breath away, but the shock of a cold, ocean breeze snaps her back to reality. “Holy fuck , I thought beaches were supposed to be wa-warm!”

Isaac chuckles again and drapes his jacket over the young woman’s shoulders. “During the day they are, but without the sun’s rays to warm the ocean air, temperatures can drop several degrees every hour.” 

She rolls her eyes but tugs his jacket around herself tightly with her one good arm, the other trying and failing to do as she demands without hurting in a myriad of ways. “You are just determined to be a teacher, aren’t you? … Well, I can’t say I blame you. It’s definitely been immensely helpful.”

“And I am deeply gratified to hear you say so. Do you mind terribly if I walk you back to your apartment?”

“Huh?” Kas quirks an eyebrow. “Did Jesse tell you I was staying in his old place?”

The estoc tilts his head, only to chuckle a bit. “N-no, actually, I just assumed you weren’t staying in a house; your cousin must be very kind to lend you his home.”

“Oh.” At least her face is warmer now. “It’s his old apartment, at least. Guessing you two aren’t super close?”

“Your cousin’s ability to connect with others is… strangely unavoidable. He knows of me through various social circles and, knowing what I do for a living, has sent me quite a few customers seeking fencing lessons or business advice,” Issac admits as he nudges her into walking, which is all it takes to get Kas into motion, leading him back the way she’d come only hours ago.

“So when he called you a swordfriend?”

Isaac chuckles softly and shakes his head, but not without a polite smile. ( Can this guy even be malicious to anything that isn’t a Dungeon monster? ) “It would be a bit of a stretch. Swordacquataince, however,  most assuredly.”

Kas joins him in his little chuckle. “Well, glad to know that he didn’t send me out with a complete stranger, at least.” After a dangling second, she speaks in a rush, “th-that isn’t to say that it would have mattered! I mean, honestly, you’re a good enough guy that if he just got your number from a web ad, I wouldn’t mind!”

Isaac’s laughter draws embarrassed groans from the Wielder, which she tries her best to muffle into his side. “Please just leave me here; I don’t think I can take any more shame.”

“Now now, shame is a part of life; we can’t all be confident and prideful all the time, or we’d be… well.”

“Like Sunder?” Kas offers with smirk, still buried into Isaac’s chest.

She can feel his laughter again and, while it’s not the same, it’s definitely close enough to feeling it through his sword form to steady her heart again. “Not the worst example, to be honest.”

Kas leans away from Isaac and continues walking side by side with him as much as she can. Though tired to the bone, almost all of her injuries had magically mended to healed cuts and fading bruising; it feels more like a bad hike than a fight for her life, and she finally begins to feel as if she can walk entirely on her own again. Her arm is the sole exception, but she forces herself to curl it and look at it, no matter how bad it hurts.

On the surface, the skin on her palm is only slightly raw, but there’s this deep ache going from the tips of her fingers to the joint of her shoulder, nearly a kaleidoscope of pain. She can bend her fingers, but it hurts in a new way; same for twisting her wrist. “Man… I wouldn’t think that five floors, even if we only cleared the boss on the last one, would hurt this much.”

Isaac’s gentle hums, though lacking in a dimension, are no different as a man than they were when he was a sword; thoughtful and curious, with a warmth that soothes her. Still, he gently takes her arm and feels over her, massaging her tired and strained muscles with a practiced grace. “It shouldn’t, and thankfully it doesn’t feel broken,” he says while focusing on his task and trusting her to lead them. “But I think I have a theory for that.”

“It was that last attack, wasn’t it.”

His nod is solemn and she gently stops him, checking for traffic before guiding them both across the intersection onto her block. “I believe so, though they may be more to it. As I said, that was far and beyond anything I’ve ever been capable of. Even when I was younger and less , shall we say, in control of myself, that sort of reckless release would be more the stuff of daydreams than reality.”

Kas sighs a little bit, both because her thoughts are trending towards the less than pleasant obvious, and because Issac is ( damn ) good at massage. “Then it’s my Blade Dancer thing. That was you and me. Back in the fight, I… felt something during that hammer blow. When we connected, I felt something of you flow into me, and something flow back out. Next second, you’re practically incandescent and we’re smashing a spider to bits.”

Isaac’s fingers twitch to a stop, briefly, before he says, “Then it’s possible something magical is at hand here, but that doesn’t explain why it’s only your one arm. I can imagine a number of scenarios, all speculative,” he begins, trailing off while resuming his massage at her, sending tingles all the way down to his Wielder’s fingertips. “But it’s equally possible you just tore several muscles by thrusting a sword about for several hours before overextending yourself in a nearly life-or-death situation.”

She hums her appreciation at the idea that it could be something other than her potential magical destiny. ( I refuse to be an anime protagonist. If my hair starts turning white or yellow or whatever, I’m jumping into the ocean. ) “So either magic, or I’m an overenthusiastic thruster. Y’know, both are pretty possible; I am very vers.”

He gives her a look that makes her immediately look away, before shaking his head; she can’t see his patient, if disapproving smile. “Behave.”

“R-right,” Kas laughs out, before sighing happily. “But regardless, I think we can agree that I did pretty decent for my first Delve, yeah?”

Isaac’s expression turns incredulous as she turns the corner onto her street; putting only a couple of buildings between and their destination. “ Decent ? Kasandra, I really hope this is more of your biting sarcasm.”

Kas tilts her head and looks up at him, frowning in confusion. ( Wait, what’s he on about now? I did good, for sure, but I still had to bail after just the first boss. ) “Nnnno? I mean, at least some people make it to their boss on the first try, right?”

And just like that, the estoc covers his face with his hand and looks away to hide his shock and awe, chuckling in disbelief. The energy about him confuses the hell out of Kas and she really wishes she could just read his mind like before; gross though it may be, it would feel better than this.

“Isaac, come on, just tell me I’m right. I mean, that was rough, but it wasn’t that bad!”

He shakes his head, before finally looking her in the eye and dropping his hand to reveal his placating smile. “Kasandra, most new wielders are forced to either retreat or are defeated before they clear two floors; I’ve heard of many who fail to beat their first monster .”

( Oh. )

( ... Wait. ) Her eyes widen, her jaw drops, and the young woman stops outright to pull her more experienced teacher to stop with her and make sure he can’t look away. “Are you telling me that what I pulled down there, with the dozens of monsters and that freaky boss— no one does that?? Surely there has to be a few people who manage it!”

Isaac stares her down before putting both hands on her shoulders, leaning in just a bit closer with a bemused quirk to his lips. “Kasandra Woods, I’m telling you that what you did in that Dunj is nothing short of legendary . In the modern day, I’d dare say that it is all but unheard of; stubbornness, skill, training— not even with all of these things combined do most people reach a boss on their first try, let alone defeat it.”

( Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. )

Kas smiles as wide as he has ever seen, before leaning in to hug Isaac as tightly as she can with one fully functional arm, and even tries to hug him with the other. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

And he returns it with equal force, patting her back gently. “Nor I you.”

For a few moments they keep the embrace but when they do separate, they do so slowly and see the matching smiles on each other’s faces.

“Mmm… ahem,” Isaac finally clears his throats, his own cheeks just a bit darker before he nods to the building behind her. “Is this where you’re staying for the summer?”

Kas twists a bit and looks behind— “Ah, yep. This is it. Wow, I’m glad I was able to find it so easily; I mean sure it’s only a couple of blocks from the Mall, but still. First day and I’ve only been here once. By car.”

Isaac nods. “Indeed. And as much as I’d like to continue our time together, even just to make sure the damage to your arm isn’t more serious than it physically appears, I really should get back to work. That said, if you ever want some lessons in proper fencing, or a partner for another dive into the Dunj, I will make myself available.”

She smiles warmly, nodding as he makes even a goodbye less than painful; the man is warm chocolate and honey, hidden beneath decorum and steel. Kas shrugs off his jacket and hands it out to him. “Assuming you already have my number?”

Isaac takes and pulls it on with a natural flourish. “You assume correctly,” he replies before bowing lightly to her. She curtsies in turn, if only to laugh at herself. His chuckle is more than worth the embarrassment, and the pair wave goodnight before, eventually, Kas relents and heads inside.

The walk up to her apartment is a bit lonely in comparison to— well, nearly every single other trip she’s made anywhere that day. “Between Jesse, Big Guy, and Isaac, I haven’t been alone once and it’s been… great? Exhausting, but great,” she says out loud, just to fight off the quiet.

It’s a bit of a struggle to open the door with her left hand, since she’s typically more of a righty, but eventually it gives way and she walks into her quiet apartment, closing the door behind her. That feeling of saudade washes over her again as she makes her way over to the huge couch in front of a less than huge TV, collapsing by the pile of bag items she poured out earlier that day. A long, heaving sigh slips out of her and she smiles up at an unfamiliar ceiling that seems to welcome her.

Her phone buzzes lightly in her bag and— ah, right, she’s probably got a few texts to read, and a few more to send.

As she pulls the overpriced rectangle from her bag, she handles it with her left arm as much as possible, flicking through messages. A few more from Mom, a few from Valeria, and the four from Issac.

She starts with Valeria, if only because hers seem urgent.

Valeria

[hey, this is that dagger you met? in the dunj]

[name’s Valeria, in case you forgot]

[just wanted to thank you properly for before]

[maybe even plan to meet up and talk through some things.]

Typing back is a lot slower with one thumb, but she manages.

Me

[Course I remember you, Valeria.]

[Meet up sounds good to me. Whenever you’re ready; my schedule is mostly free.]

[... Unless my cousin decides to play love coach, in which case I might have a schedule.]

When there’s no immediate response, ( It is pretty late for both of us. ) Kas swaps from one thread to another, pulling up Isaac’s next. ( Sorry, Mom, but not that sorry. )

Isaac

[Dear Kas, as per my earlier statement, I’m free for lessons most days of the week.]

[I keep equipment necessary for fencing lessons at my office, Brooks Associates.]

[Please, do feel free to stop by whenever you have a chance, but only if you’re going to allow that arm to heal first.]

[Until then. - Sincerely, Isaac]

She could laugh, really, if Isaac were even the slightest bit less genuine about everything he did. The man texts as if he’s composing actual letters - it’s damn near Romantic, capital R. She shakes her head and taps out her reply.

Me

[Sounds good to me. Some actual training couldn’t possibly hurt, right?]

[You’ll be the first one to know when my arm’s up to combat of any sort again.]

And his response began quickly enough she didn’t get a chance to compose another line.

Isaac

[I recommend a warm then cool or cold shower. It’s important to take care of your body after a strenuous workout.]

Kas smirks; can she possibly let that go?

Me

[You often in the habit of giving your partners aftercare tips?]

Isaac

[Only when I’m reasonably certain they’ll actually follow them.]

[And you have been reasonably obedient.]

Kas sucks in a sharp breath, cheeks warming more with every pass as she reads and rereads the words. ( No fucking way he knows what he’s saying. Right? )

Me

[... Isaac, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and ask a random question: Do you know what D/s is?]

Isaac

[Kasandra, I am a man in my 30’s. Sheltered or not, I’m reasonably certain I know what you’re asking.]

[But.]

[For the sake of clarity, spell it out for me.]

She feels her heart in her throat, choking her nearly to death, but he’s right about one thing: she’s reasonably obedient.

Me

[... Dominance/submission, as part of the larger acronym BDSM.]

Isaac

[I see. And just why would that be appropriate for you to ask me about?]

( Please fucking kill me. )

Me

[Just, you know.]

[The way you talk sometimes.]

[And say things certain ways.]

[I was just unsure if you were aware.]

Isaac

[Well then.]

[I’ll admit my knowledge on the practices are rusty and less studied; it is typically not “my style”, not that that is any of your business at this time.]

[But now I think I need to reevaluate how I’ve been talking to you.]

[Goodnight, Kasandra. We’ll talk more about this in the morning.]

( ... He is definitely going to be doing this more on purpose. )

Now thoroughly embarrassed, mortified, and wishing for the sweet release of death, at least Kas has the requisite levels of ‘fucks to give’ to return to her Mother’s text chain from earlier. 

( Huh, she sent more when Big Guy saved me from traffic. )

Mom

[Back when I was about your age, maybe younger, I had a friend named Natalia.]

[I might have mentioned her: exchange student from Italy, constantly at odds with your father, but she and I were best of friends, so the three of us made it work for the most part.]

[Only your father wasn’t able to turn into a weapon. Natalia could, and hopefully still can.]

[Back then, whenever she or I needed to let off steam, we’d go Dungeon Delving together. She, the Falchion and me, the Wielder. There was always this spark between us and when we fought together, there was nothing we couldn’t do.]

[I hope you find someone like that, sweetheart. Natalia and I had to stop seeing each other for less than fortunate reasons, but I will never forget my time with her.]

[Anyway, love you sweetie. Good luck with your first Dungeon!!]

“...” Kas again can scarcely believe what she’s reading, to the point she ends up reading for a third time, just to make sure she absolutely isn’t missing context. “There is no way. No possible way. Even if it makes sense, I— no. No fuck it, no point in spinning myself in circles.”

Me

[Sorry to get back to you so late, Mom. The story you sent me, about your swordfriend Natalia? It’s]

[I dunno how to say this, but it’s really similar to pretty much my entire first day here. Besides Isaac (he’s an Estoc and an amazing guy) I also met a cheeseball named Sunder and a complicated woman named Valeria and with each one, there was this same spark you mentioned.]

[A connection that let me see into the depths of them. It was strongest with Isaac. Mom, we made it down *five* floors of my first Dunj! Isaac was still stunned by that when he dropped me off! Or, y’know, stunned I thought it was normal but w/e.]

[And]

[Fuck, okay and he said he heard of people who can do this sort of thing. Make connections with swordpeople in ways other Wielders can’t, plus a bunch of other stuff.]

[He called me a Blade Dancer, Mom. He’s entirely certain that’s what I am.]

[And if you know anything about that, I’d really like to hear about it. Please.]

[... Also I love you and you were totally right and Verona Beach is the best.]

With no one else to text and Valeria seemingly MIA, Kas takes the moment to follow her fencing/Dunjing instructor’s advice and go take a shower, to wash off the grime and soreness of the day. Her dress promptly went into the laundry hamper, followed by her underwear, with her shoes being slipped out to leave her in nothing but socks. ( Even with the surgery, I still don’t think I’ll ever quite get over this feeling. The dysphoria. Fuck, here’s hoping that fear doesn’t pop up before I get a chance to tell whoever I’m wielding. ) 

It strikes her, ever so slightly, that even after the amazing time she had with Isaac, the idea of wielding other weapons, other partners, still appeals to her. On the way towards the bathroom, naked down to her socks, she flexes the fingers on her swordhand. She closes her and imagines that she’s curling her fingers around Sunder’s unique hilt. She can almost feel the weight and warmth that spreads up her arm, and she can’t help herself: she twirls and slowly swings her imaginary sword in a wide arc. The weight is still there, but now she can see red light behind her eyes, the scent of copper hitting her with her next breath— 

She jerks, eyes wide suddenly wide and stareing at her hand. It’s definitely empty, but her arm does feel a bit better. “Okay, now that is new and definitely not normal. Wow. And all that from a touch… … I wonder.”

Kas imagines Isaac in her grip instead, fingers curling around the familiar hilt, only to wince as he presses into the patches of bruised, scuffed skin. Still, she adjusts and he feels better in her grip, even if it’s just an illusion. So she thrusts once, eyes closing again.

Maybe it’s just the memory, but she feels his weight, the force of it trying to extend past her reach, the familiar charge of his aura doing just that. In her mind’s eye, she sees a monster, a target to thrust at, and she smiles playfully before lunging lightly forward, skating forward on her socks with the intent to maim— 

She hisses as pain blooms down various points all along her arm, left hand going to clutch it in a vain attempt to stop the hurt.  

“Owowowow, okay! Okay... so, this isn’t just in my head. I… I actually might have some magical sword powers or something…” She looks up from her arm towards where the mannequin she imagined had been and saw… nothing. She tries flexing her arm, but any relief she got from waving “Sunder” around was gone. “Or I really did just tear a bunch of muscles and I’m acting like an idiot.

Kas struggles to remove her socks before walking naked through the apartment, getting the tour she missed on her way to the place’s sole, small bathroom. She hadn’t even had time to put her own toiletries in, but honestly, she can stand her cousin’s leftover bodywash and shampoo for one night.

A quick twist of the knob and warm water immediately comes crashing down against the top of her head and down her back, making the sore Wielder moan out in unabashed relief. She uses her good arm to brace against the wall of the shower and just twists this way and that to let the warmth seep into her bones

Eventually, finally, she goes through the exhaustive process of washing her hair and body with one good hand, letting the water cool with the process so she can finish up Isaac’s well-meaning advice. Still, she steps out of the shower into a micro sauna. “Best part,” she mumbles, taking a deep breath of the warm, humid air before grabbing a shower and drying her body down to the best of her ability.

Drying her hair takes a bit longer, getting off the last bits of make-up even longer than that, so she didn’t even come close to having the energy to brush her teeth with her wrong arm, shave, or pluck; that could be morning Kas’ job. For now, she stumbles back out to the living room to sort through her bags until she finds her pill bag, grabbing it and walking barefoot through to the kitchen to get a glass of water for her handful of “Keep Kas San”’ medicine. She breathes out one final sigh of relief, before going to get at least underwear and a baggy t-shirt to sleep in from her closet..

( Huh. ) The first shirt she grabs and it’s a Marskye & McQueen T-shirt she got from their cross country tour. “Been ages since then, but I got the biggest size I could find,” she mumbles while pulling it on and heading for the bedroom, snatching up her phone along the way— just in case anyone really needs her. Or she somehow can’t sleep ( Fucking hate that. ) and has to pull her phone out and browse some image board or something for however long it takes for her to sleep.

Thankfully for her, the second her head hits the pillow, she barely manages to get Jesse’s blanket over her legs before she feels a wave of exhaustion roll over her, coaxing her eyelids into closing. She curls up lightly, head only barely on the pillow and hand clutching her phone to her chest.

That night, she doesn’t have her usual dreams. No Saude, no torture crypts, and certainly no voice telling her that she’d never find anyone who loves her as much as she does.

Instead, she’s holding a hilt in each hand; in one, a warm, leather wrapped dagger that’s light but so balanced she feels like she’s in total control of every moment she makes, while in the other an estoc, heavier but solid and sure. Scents of paint, cologne, and copper mingle in ways that should repulse her, but comfort her more than any blanket ever can.

Just before she starts to wake, she can hear voices echo through her head. A feminine voice that drips confidence as soon as she has even the briefest hint of footing, telling her, “ I’ve got your back, so long as you watch mine. ”

A deep, sultry voice chuckles from one ear to another and she feels a hand brush down her arm before grabbing her hand, shifting to chilled metal in an instant. “ Well, what are you waiting for? Show me your moves, babe! Let’s just live, have some fun~”

And finally, a voice she can only barely recognize as chocolate and honey, speaking softly and with care. “ You can do this, but you don’t have to do it alone. Together, now. ”

——————————————————————

Kas rolls over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling of an unfamiliar room as warm sunlight streams through her window, feeling the last dregs of sleep fall away along with the memories of company too real to be just dreams. “Together,” she responds to the estoc of her literal dreams.

Chapter Text

Typically, mornings for Kas are slow on a good day; after a particularly hard shift back at the restaurant, or a long time for whatever reason, they moved at a glacial pace.

But in Verona Beach, she rolls out of bed with a little spring in her step and a tingling warmth through her whole body. In all her years, she has never been at an age where she’s both light on her feet and old enough to appreciate it; even in college, her education granted her the basic understanding of what it would take for her to be as free and flowing as a gymnast, but that had been it. Actually achieving it had seemed forever beyond her grasp

Today, she all but dances to the living room to get her travel bag with her toothbrush, paste, floss, and mini bottle of mouthwash, skipping back to the bathroom to actually use them. It’s about then she notices properly; her right arm feels perfectly fine. All the pains, normal and unique, have faded away. If anything, she feels a little stronger as she works the brush into her mouth.

While her brush buzzes aggressively at the plaque on her teeth, she checks her phone to see who all responded from the night before. Isaac had ( Nnnnope! Nope nope, not right now. ) sent a few messages, Valeria had sent a few, and her cousin had sent her three; two after she’d gotten home last night and promptly passed out, and one maybe five minutes ago. She opens up Valeria’s first while heading back to the bathroom to spit.

Valeria

[was thinking about the park. for our meet up, i mean.] 

[since i spend a good bit there]

[so come whenever, just text me when you want to come. K?]

Me

[Sounds good. Seeya after I take care of a couple of things.]

Valeria

[👍]

Kas finishes clearing up her mess a bit haphazardly due to certain distractions; at least Valeria is a pretty punctual texter when she isn’t disoriented and fresh out of a Dunj. ( Good to know. )

That just leavesJesse and Isaac, but before she digs into his texts, she goes to the fridge to check for anything to eat, padding across the apartment while still in her night clothes. “Bachelor life rules, cousin you were a fool to give this up! Mwahaha… ugh, cheesy.” She pops open the fridge—

And finds it completely and totally empty. The burgeoning chef’s eye twitches in irritation before she lets out a sigh and closes the door. Yep, definitely time to contact her dearest cousin.

Jesse

[Did you make it to the dungeon?]

[Okay, Isaac told me you both made it out of the dungeon. Nice work!!]

[Okay seriously; report in, soldier!]

Kas chortles a bit, but at least she can appreciate his worry about her well being… and probably also her progress.

Me

[Mission complete, Sir! But next time, tell me that he’s hot!]

Jesse

[No promises. But really, how did it go besides you surviving?]

[Wait no]

[I’m nearby, let’s just talk in person!]

Me

[Veto’d - bring food or you will get nothing out of me.]

Jesse

[Oh. Right, the fridge. Alright, I’ll bring something up. See you in like, 5 minutes, tops!]

[So don’t you run off anywhere!!]

Kas’ smile only grew; it certainly feels like the more she talks with her cousin, the more she likes him. The dude is too genuine to worry if he’s actually trying to be sneaky in any meaningful way. ( ... Why do I gotta think about people like that? )

Still, she takes the opportunity to change into something more presentable, fluff out her hair, and put on some make-up before her cousin comes up…

And when he doesn’t show after five minutes, leaving her sitting there in her favorite pair of ratty jeans and a green-blue striped camisole, that's when she finally relents and checks Isaac’s texts. “Curse my curiosity, and let my regret have no end,” she mutters dramatically while opening up the text thread.

After the goodbye the previous night, Isaac’s texts started coming  again thirty minutes ago, which meant he had gotten up even earlier than her.

Isaac

[Good morning. I hope these find you well.]

[I have given it some thought, reevaluated our conversations, both texts and in the Dunj, and…]

[I may have done a bit of research, as a refresher.]

[And I have come to a conclusion, Kasandra.]

[You have a filthy, filthy mind, but with this context? You’re certainly more amusing than I first realized.]

[Just know that in a duel, a reckless strike often leads to a devastating riposte.]

[I’m looking forward to our lesson - Sincerely, Isaac.]

“Oh I am fucking screwed,” Kas says, out loud and with all the seriousness of a woman sentence to death by hanging. 

She’s so caught up in her text and eventual execution that she completely misses the sound of knocking, the jingle of keys, or the door unlocking. “Who’s screwed,” Jesse asks, bag in one hand and keys in the other as he walks in.

And, of course, her reaction is to yelp, nearly toss her phone into the air, snatch it up, then throw it to the other side of the couch. “Noreasonlet’snottalkaboutit!!”

Jesse blinks a few times, torn between being impressed by his little cousin’s display of dexterity, or by the sheer redness of her face. Either way, he grins and holds up a paper bag. “Come get your grub on, cousin. Your Mom said you were a vegetarian?”

Kas gives him a look of thanks for his infinite mercy before standing up and going over to the small table by the kitchen. “Yep, and it smells like you went with eggs.”

“That’s cool, right?” He looks just the slightest bit uncertain but she can tell there’s no judgement there. Mostly, anyway. ( Shut up, anxiety brain . )

She shrugs lightly and waves him off. “On one hand, corporate farming has made it so getting anything from an animal that you haven’t met is potentially unethical. But on the other hand, egg substitutes are either crazy expensive or just aren’t there yet, so gimme that yolk, Cuz.”

Visibly relaxing, Jesse sets the bag on the table and pulls out plastic containers with breakfast from a diner she doesn’t recognize the name of before handing her a clear sleeve of plastic silverware. 

Kas thanks him with a smile and the pair pop open their meals. “Hm! Vegan sausage, scrambled eggs, and breakfast potatoes— a safe choice, but one I respect. There any little salt packets in there?”

“Way ahead of you,” Jesse said while scooping out a small pile of salt and pepper packets. “Bad for the environment, but too handy to deny.”

“Here here.”

The two tuck into their food for a few minutes, content to just enjoy each other’s company and fill their bellies before it finally comes to the point that they’re more than half done and their mouths aren’t constantly full.

“So, Isaac. He says you were a model student, total natural, and that you really went all in on the whole, “ face your fears ” aspect of the Dungeon Delving. For him, that’s practically gushing.”

Kas smiles and brushes a bit of her fauxhawk out of her face, fork prodding a chunk of egg she’d been eying for a hot second. “Trust me, he’s not the  only one that could gush. Guy was super kind, an amazing teacher, and helped me through the whole thing. I might’ve been Wielding him, but there’s no way I could’ve pulled off the win I had last night with any other partner.”

Jesse whistles, looking astonished and giving her the once over again. “Damn, Cuz. He must’ve really made an impression on you.”

She rolls her eyes, smile fading a bit. But only a bit; Jesse is too good a guy, she can’t just let herself retreat over an innocent observation… shame that emotions aren’t so rational. She spears her egg and pops it in her mouth.

“Either way,” Jesse pushes on. “I’m glad it worked out.”

Swallowing down her tasty, tasty prize, she nods. “Me too. Though, I should mention that we found not one, but two other swordpeople down there.”

And once more, Jesse looks surprised. “Seriously? Isaac didn’t mention that. Were they down there alone?”

“Mhm, and worse than that, they were unconscious, stuck in their weapon forms, and damaged.” Kas tries to look and sound as grave as Isaac, but it sounds wrong coming from her. ( Few years ago, I’d be thrilled by that. )

“Damn. Well, I did mean to warn you; weapons have been going missing. Like, just a few here and there, but my swordbuddies have been telling me to spread the word whenever I can— be extra careful at night.”

She nods, before humming and cupping her chin. “You wouldn’t happen to know a Sunder or a Valeria, would you?”

Jesse makes a face, struggles to cover it up, before giving up entirely and letting his expression turn fully concerned. “I don’t know any Valeria’s, but Sunder is kind of a common name in gossip. The guy flirts with and dates tons of people. Like, I’ve never heard of him sticking with anyone longer than a couple of weeks. And he’s almost always at his club, La Rosa… Wait, don’t tell me he was one of the people who was in the Dungeon.”

“He was,” Kas confirms, slicing up the last of her sausage and trying to hide her own emotions; part of it is that she doesn’t want Jesse to get the wrong idea, but part of it was definitely what he said. She could tell Sunder was a player from moment one, but finding out that he’s just like that with everyone? It stung Kas. A little.

Maybe more than a little.

“It was especially weird with him, actually.” She tries to shift the subject slightly. “He was locked in a safe, bound with chains. But the chains were actual chains, not chains made by the dungeon.”

“Dang, that is pretty weird. Someone must have really wanted to keep him locked up to go that far.”

Kas nods, not really sure how to add to that. Not that she’s worried the silence between them will stretch long, so she’s content to eat what remains of her breakfast.

“Well, regardless, Isaac didn’t really feel comfortable talking about your fears without your okay, but he did tell me that it was likely going to be, “quite the problem to unravel”, his words, not mine.”

She laughs a little bit. “I’m glad to hear he’s worried, and that he respects my privacy. But I don’t really mind you knowing the basics; I… don’t like feeling judged. Watched, stared at, the idea that people are thinking I’m ugly or cursed; it really gets to me. Usually I just block out the world and focus on what’s ahead of me when I’m anywhere that might trigger those feelings, but…”

Jesse leans in a bit. “But?”

Kas smiles faintly as she props her elbow up on the kitchen table, chin falling into her palm while she levels a look at Jesse, meeting his eyes. For the first time in a while, her heart doesn’t immediately begin to race.. “But I think the Dunj is helping me unravel that fear and really confront it. Might be a bit before I get a handle on, but I’m sure I can do it.”

Her cousin fistpumps a little and laughs, looking both relieved and stoked all at the same time. “I knew it! I knew that you’d take to Dungeons like a fish to water~ Ah man, this summer really is going to be great for you. And hey, bonus, even if it wasn’t really a date, you got to spend a bunch of time with a handsome swordguy who you… apparently trust a whole bunch.”

He pauses. “Actually, what all happened down there? Like, I’m happy you’re feeling better, Kas, but you seem… really happy.”

Kas frowns, looking from Jesse to her food again before sitting up straight. “A lot and a little? Like, seeing my fears was really rough, and fighting them got really hard almost right from the beginning. But I also learned how to throw fireballs, heal myself by just thinking about drinking coffee, found a bunch of weird crafting items, made 21 bucks, and… and I think I found something out about myself.”

He gives her the room to continue. “Jesse, Isaac told me that it’s not normal to bond with swordpeople the way I do. To feel this jolt of energy that connects the two of us. To fight like I did last night. He called me a Blade Dancer. And I’m still not entirely sure what that means, but— but I know that for the first time in my life, I found at least three people I’m comfortable reaching out to who I’m not related to by law or blood.”

Her confidence surges as she maintains eye contact. ( Very pretty brown. Must run in the family. ) “And yes, unfortunately that means Sunder, too. If it helps, he doesn’t seem like a bad guy. Just… a playboy and kind of an idiot.”

Jesse sits there, stunned and staring back at her with her mouth just barely hanging open before asking, “Who are you and what have you done with my cousin?”

Kass huffs and narrows her eyes. “You caught me. I’m a changeling; I killed your cousin down in the Dunj and now I’m going to live the life she never could. And yes, it will involve smooching all the sword people I can get my hands on!”

Aaaand now he’s rolling his eyes and picking up a bit of hash brown to throw at her. “Changelings are supposed to replace people, not necessarily kill them, you goof.”

“They’re also probably not supposed to explicitly kiss swords, so shush,” she counters with a flicked breakfast potato that nearly smacks him between the eyes.

“Okay! Okay, before this turns into a food fight, let me just say this— one? I am super proud of you. Like five stars, good job Cuz.”

She nods, crossing her arms and looking as if she can accept these terms, lip twitching to not break into a smile as she strains to hold a “stern” expression. “Acknowledged. You may proceed.”

“Two, do you think this helped you with the idea of going on an actual date?”

It’s Kas’ turn to blink, it’s a question that leaves her perplexed enough that she needs to give it some real thought. On the one hand, the words “actual date” make her stomach roil in a distressingly uncomfortable way. But on the other hand, she can now slay giant monster spiders made of mannequin parts.

“I think so, yeah. At least a little bit.”

He nods. “But you still looked queasy there. If it helps, I have a date lined up with a guy I know from high school. He runs a sword shop, so if nothing else, you’ll have that in common; you love weapons, right?”

Kas smiles a little. “Yeah, I do. Maybe that’ll be enough to break the ice and all that jazz.”

“Right! So, the date’s at about 11am tomorrow and he’ll be at Kicks. It’s a cafe not far from here and yes, I’ll text you directions there too. Even though you could just use the Maps app.”

She holds up her fist, thumb out and point down while sticking out her tongue. “No way, Cuz. You’re supposed to be my love coach, you convinced Mom to ship me out here; anything that doesn’t involve swords, I’m gonna make you work for it.”

Jesse scrunches up his nose. “Seriously,” he asks in disbelief.

“No.” Her face breaks into a grin that inversely matches his groan. “Of course not, I’m not that much of a pain in the ass. I’ll find the place on my own, no problem.”

“Good,” he says with a nod, before shoving his container over towards her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got my own stuff to take care of.” Jesse starts to get up and Kas gets up with him.

The pair head to the door, but Jess stops just after opening it. “Hey, for real though. It’s all about getting experience with these dates. Summer might feel like it’ll last forever, especially if you’re going diving into Dungeons, but it won’t. So… make the most of it.”

She blinks, then smiles. “Yeah, I think I will. But if I do actually get over all my shit, and end up in a polyamorus harem with a whole bunch of hot swords? You get to explain to Mom why I can never return to her in Lyria City because I can’t bear to leave any of them~”

He just laughs his way out the door with Kas closing it behind him… Which leaves her nearly all day to do whatever she pleases. ( Huh. ) “Normally,” she mumbles to herself while going back to the “kitchen” table to pick at the scraps that remained from breakfast. “I’d be going to work, or coordinating with the clanmates, or just watching youtube videos about nonsense. Anything to avoid leaving the house without a reason. Anything to avoid stuff…”

She frowns deeply. “But that’s what this Summer isn’t about. Jesse is right! I’m going to go out, face the day, and meet at least one hot swordperson!” As she makes her daring proclamation she heads back for the door— only to nearly trip over one of her bags, left out from last night and just barely catching herself on the crafting table Jesse had set up by the door.

“... Okay, maybe I’ll put away the rest of my stuff, polish off breakfast, and make this place a little more livable for me before I consider that. Damn you, practicality…”

———————————————————————-

With the day mostly taken up by shopping for groceries, extra toiletries she couldn’t take on the plane, and some extra clothes for the cooler nights, Kas quickly saw day turn to night, leaving her with few options left for how to spend her time. She send out texts to the two people she had made less-than-firm plans with to expect her either the day after tomorrow or the one after, depending on how things with Eric actually go, but that only takes a moment.

So instead, thinking on her options, she really only boils it down to taking a walk around town to get better acquainted with the place, checking online for more info on Blade Dancers, ( Gonna be a pain in the ass; that term has to have been used in dozens of games, media; hell, I even know that dancing with swords is a thing that people do! … Really fun to watch, too. ) or scope out Kicks. Her rumbling stomach answers that question for her and she heads for the cafe, using Maps to guide her.

It really is practically around the corner; come to think of it, Big Guy had mentioned he was heading here. “Must be a local fave,” she muses to herself before walking in. Late as it is, there’s next to no one inside, just one or two sitting in their corners with either technology or another person to keep them company. She walks up to the counter, keeping her head down.

“Hey, welcome to Kicks!” Kas smiles as much as she can and tries to meet the customer service smile of the woman in front of her. “My name’s Olivia. Anything I can get you?”

“Er, just a chocolate croissant.”

“Coming right up!” She goes to the case to retrieve one while Kas’ shoulders slump and she gets her wallet out. Well, at least it could have gone worse— “Hey, I don’t think I recognize you. Are you from out of town?”

( Fuck my life. )

The brunette laughs awkwardly and nods. “Yeah, I am. Uh, Kas Woods. I’m just out here for the summer.”

“Oh wow, really? That’s pretty interesting!” ( Does she know how fake she sounds? … Fuck, I hope that’s not her being genuinely sincere. ) “Anything here in particular you’re here for?”

“Oh, uh, my cousin just figured I could use a change of pace. Guy’s sweet enough to, y-you know, put me up until the lease on his old place runs out. You know?”

Olivia shrugs, looking less interested but no less cordial. “Not really, but I guess I just don’t get along with my extended family all that well. 3.87, please.”

Kas hands her a five and tells her to just keep the change. Anything to keep the conversation from going further— ( ... Wait. No, hold on. Screw it, just a little bit. ) “Me neither, honest. But I’m close to my Mom and she keeps connected. What about you?” As the words leave her, she feels a spark, just a light crackle, but it’s like there’s something there at her back. Some one comforting and supportive. 

The barista perks, stopping what she’s doing and looking at Kas, confused. “Huh?”

“Your family,” Kas says while waiting for her pastry, breathing in and feeling a spark flow through her. “Are you close to your Mom or Dad? Siblings?”

“Oh! Uh.” Olivia hesitates for a second, but when she looks at the relaxing Kas with that disarming smile on her face, she smiles back and breaks the five dollar bill, dumping the change into a jar on the counter. “I’m not, honestly. Mom and Dad split up long time ago. Dad took my little brother, Mom kept me, and the four of us only ever met up on birthdays and holidays. So…”

Kas nods, listening and practically hanging on Olivia’s every word. And the woman fidgets just a bit while holding out a chocolate croissant, wrapped in thin brown paper, out to Kas. “I don’t have a lot of good experience with family in general.

“I guess I can relate to that a little,” Kas says while taking her treat. “My dad…” She takes a breath. ( I ’ ve never given a shit whether or not people know about my dad. I got this. ) “He split when I was still in elementary school. Left us blindsided one day, so it’s pretty much only been me and my Mom, cuz after that, the family got togethers got fewer and fewer.”

Olivia nods, he expression somewhere between understanding and pity. “I feel you. Or, at least I think I do. Er, enjoy your croissant!”

Taking that as a sign that Olivia didn’t exactly want to keep the conversation going, Kas nods as the nerves creep back in. “Thanks. Enjoy what’s left of your shift.” She heads over to a table, heart thudding lightly in her chest.

As she settles in and tucks into her treat, she feels the presence dissipate and the fizzle out. ( Came from the same place as that attack last night. And it felt like… Isaac? God, I really am going crazy. ) She tries not to dwell on the feeling, but finds it’s hard not to. To think, she could really feel like she’s with Isaac any time, vague though it might be. Something like that would be so handy for really stressful times, especially times where she can’t bring her music. Where— 

Where she’d be going on a first date.. Her first ever date. She groans quietly and puts her in her hand over her face. ( I really don’t want my first date to suck. What if this high school guy sucks? … Ugh, what if I suck? ) She takes another bite out of her croissant and finds even that incapable of soothing her worried soul. She even tries to summon up the feeling from before, but finds nothing but a tightness in her chest. ( ... Damn it. )

She pulls out her phone and texts Valeria; of the five numbers she has, it’s the only choice that makes sense. Isaac is too straitlaced and logical, and right now she needs something other than that. Jesse is part of the problem, and therefore cannot be part of the solution. She barely knows Sunder, so he’s an automatic no. And she’s still waiting on her Mom to respond about the whole Natalia and Blade Dancer thing, so that leaves the one wild card in her Verona Beach deck.

Me

[Hey, Valeria, you up?]

[I know we don’t really know each other, but I’m]

[Kind of freaking out and I was hoping for a little bit of advice.]

[It can even be intentionally bad advice I can just laugh at.]

[I’m desperate.]

At first there’s no response, so Kas eats her feelings with tasty, if mostly unsatisfying chocolate croissant. She should definitely look up recipes for them later and make her own; nothing beats homemade, so long as you’re good—

Her phone chimes and she jumps lightly.

Valeria

[yeah, I’m up. you good, girl?]

Kas breathes out a sigh of relief.

Me

[I’m going to have my first, actual date ever tomorrow and it’s with a guy I’ve never met, know almost nothing about, including his name, and I’m worried that it’s going to suck.]

Valeria

[geez is that all it is? okay, here’s what you do.]

[don’t give a 💩]

Me

[I know you don’t know me, but that is one of the many things I am *really* bad at doing.]

Valeria

[just hear me out.]

[what’s the worst thing that happens if your first date sucks?]

Me

[... I piss off a guy who owns a sword shop, he stabs me, I die, and a cascade of bad shit happens?.]

Valeria

[wait shit.]

[that’s on the table??]

[ah man, okay maybe do give a shit.]

Me

[I think I’m just going to accept that I am well and truly fucked, and not in any kind of fun way.]

Valeria

[alright, look, just do your best to not piss him off and maybe have a good time?]

[you clearly have some way with swords.]

[and if it does suck, then come find me. I’ll protect you from a creepo if it comes to that.]

Me

[You seriously mean that?]

Valeria

[what kind of person would i be to leave you at the mercy of a pissed off dude with a…]

[idk, a gladius?]

Kas smiles, heart finally calming down enough that she gets up and starts for the door, waving when Olivia says, “See ya later!”

Me

[Thanks, Valeria. I needed that.]

Valeria

[kas, i barely know you, i don’t trust you]

[but you better believe me when i say nobody, creep or otherwise, is gonna stop you.]

She lets out a giggle before lifting her phone to snap a picture of herself holding up a middle finger despite the huge grin on her face, which gets promptly sent to Valeria.

Me

[Thanks. Here’s hoping our meet up goes better, regardless of how this thing with my cousin’s high school friend goes.]

When Valeria doesn’t respond immediately, Kas is certain that she pushed it too far with the selfie, but tries ( And fails brilliantly. ) to brush it off. She’s almost back to her place when her phone buzzes, and there’s just a picture of a familiar dagger, blade whole and beautiful, pointing threateningly at her. Or rather, the camera.

Valeria

[u have no idea how hard that shot was]

[but ur welcome.]

[good luck, sexy.]

…

( The swords of this Beach town are going to murder me, and they won’t even have to stab me to do it. )

With her brain reduced to static, she goes through the motions of getting ready for bed, then lays on her pillow while thinking of Valeria with an uncomfortable amount of heat in her cheeks and… maybe a bit lower than her cheeks. “She called me sexy,” Kas half-whines into her pillow, her left hand sliding over her outer thigh but stopping short of sliding inward. “That is just so unbelievably unfair.”

Eventually, sleep comes for her, dragging her away from embarrassed half-formed fantasies and thoughts of just what a dagger that isn’t trying to kill her could feel like.

—————————————————

The next morning comes about the same as her mornings usually come: groggy, sluggish, and with a light dusting of anxiety. Only instead of worrying over work, life, and every nightmare in between, she gets to stress over a date. Singular. With just one normal, probably perfectly alright guy.

( This is unbelievably stupid. )

Concurring with her own thoughts, she takes a few deep breaths and rolls over to where her phone is leashed on the bed, playing a few of her preferred mobile games until the fear melts away

Once she’s sure she’s alright, Kas rolls out of bed and goes through her usual routine, but adds the extra step of picking out an outfit that says… as little about her as possible, honestly. “Valeria’s right. It’s my first date, and I really just should only give as much of a shit as I need to to keep him from murdering me. If he turns out to be an alright guy, then a second date can soothe all wounds…”

And then she deflates a little and sighs, scratching at her scalp. “Or I’m full of it, Val’s full of it, and this guy is going to stick a claymore through my gut.”

Either way, she eventually settles on a knee length skirt in blue with actual pockets, a sleeveless hoodie she keeps almost exclusively for the stomach pocket, one of the few pairs of flats she has and her messenger bag, this time loaded with more of her usual items, like chapstick and her make-up kit… though, she does leave in a plastic cube. If nothing else, it’s a nice reminder of her time in the Dunj. “Alright. First date, let’s go.”

The trek to Kicks is just as brief in the daytime as it was last night, but this time there are people, both on the way and inside. Try as she might to avoid looking at too many of them, Kas keeps her head held high. ( Gotta start getting used to that, right? )

“Welcome… back to Kicks,” a familiar voice says, sounding kind of confused, with a hint of embarrassment there.

( At least the feeling is mutual, and hey, she’ll be able to hopefully identify me if this dude turns out to be a murderer. ) She sighs a little, but smiles at Olivia all the same, waving lightly with her other hand in her pocket. “Thanks.” 

“Mhm. But, uh, I think that guy in the corner is waiting for you.”

She turns around and sees someone waving for her. Broad shoulders, white sweater, purplish slacks, glasses, blonde hair… an anvil pin? She blinks but starts to approach him.

As soon as she gets close, he stands to greet her. “Hey. You’re Kas, right? Jesse’s cousin? I’m Eric.”

Kas nods, smiling a bit. “Yeah, that’s right—”

“Now, tell me everything you know about swords. Do you prefer one or two handed?”

That throws her for a loop. “Uh, guess Jesse told you about my interest in ‘em, yeah. If I had to pick, I’m all about one handed. There’s just way more variety there and—”

“I know what you mean! Personally though, it’s the choice between speed and weight. One handed can be nice, but two handed has that satisfying heft.” He actually waggles his eyebrows at her. She was not, until this exact moment, aware people did that seriously.

But Eric continues on when she doesn’t immediately respond. “Jesse said you were the dungeon crawling type, so I thought I’d offer my help in finding you a weapon. One that’ll suit you best down in there.” He sounds almost bored at the prospect of talking about dungeons, but Kas can almost see him start to drool at the idea of more weapon talk.”

She clears her throat. “Sorry to say this, but you run a weapon shop, right? As in you either craft blades or order them from people who do?”

Eric nods, smiling confidently and even puffing out his chest just a little bit. “That’s right. The best steel in Verona Beach, though the clientele around here has little use for the kind of hardware you’d probably appreciate.”

Kas shrugs at that; she agrees on that point, at least. “You’re half-right. I’d prefer a talwar or even a dagger over a switchblade or kitchen knife.”

“Exactly!” He leans forward, hand outstretched and smiling. “So you see my point. Maybe after we’re done here, you can come by my shop and we can pick out something that’ll suit you.”

“M… maybe,” she says with some hesitance. “But I don’t know— seems like going down there alone, a decent weapon or not, is just sorta asking for trouble.”

Eric lets out a psh noise and shakes his head. “Listen, if you’re worried about monsters, don’t be— with just a few tricks and lessons, I’m sure you could tear them apart with my fine blades!”

Kas puts her hands out, fingers together and talking a little slower. “I get that, but these are my fears you’re talking—”

He raises an eyebrow but cuts her off almost immediately. “Well, what would you suggest besides going down into a dungeon with, besides a weapon?”

“Well, a weapon partner , obviously.”

The blonde scoffs at that and crosses his arms, one hand up like he’s about to lecture her. “Kas, I’m sure you’ve had some good experiences with weapon people, but really. If you’re even half as good at this whole Wielding thing as Jesse says you, then I’m sure you’ll do amazing with a real sweord.”

She frowns and something begins to surge up. She grits her right hand and can almost feel a comforting weight in it. She can do this. Because she’s not alone. ( I can do this. Because I— we’re… )

Together.

Word echoing in the back of her mind, Kas looks Eric in the eye and he seems taken aback by whatever he sees in hers. “Eric, have you been in a Dungeon?”

“Well— … No..” He admits, hesitating slightly. The man is unwilling to break eye contact with her, a young woman a couple of years his junior. “I didn’t have much time for it high school, and now that I have the shop to run, I have even less time for something so frivolous. Besides, thanks to groups like the Knights Templar, all the monsters are trapped in Dungeons; we have no reason to go down there besides the ones we make up ourselves.”

“I’ll give you that one; unless you have a reason to go down there, it’s probably best to stay out. Dungeons can be dangerous, in a lot of ways. But as for me? I have a reason.”

Eric continues to lean away, ever so slightly, from the brunette across the table from him; age, height, even confidence be damned, something is spooking this boy. “An—, ahem, and  just what is that?”

“Those monsters? They’re my fears. And I want to go down there and see just how bad I’ve let them get.” Kas’ eyes narrow. “And from what I’ve already seen, there’s no ordinary sword in the world that’ll let me fight them. Not if I want to have any hope of surviving with my heart intact.”

Eric swallows loudly, before frowning deeply like she’s just insulted him with that ascertion. “No ordinary sword? Are you really so certain… or do you just think that way because you did it with a hybrid?”

He clearly meant that as some kind of moral-defining question, but Kas nods, solemn and sure, as her eyes narrow at the last word. “It’s not the only reason. It’s because, if I’m being honest, my fears are bigger than I am. I think they are for most people. Facing a fear alone when you have someone to face them with isn’t just stupid; it’s borderline masochistic.”

“I see… Well. I suppose if that’s your thing, then my shop would have little to offer you.” There’s a bitterness in his words and he’s quivering slightly, scowl deep.

Kasblinks, noting the rage in his eyes a moment too late, but she shakes her head quickly. The spark of togetherness fades again as she scrambles to find a response that might fix this. “Do-don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that. I do love weapons, not just of the people variety.” ( But they are infinitely better than you. ) “Like… I can tell you’re a smith,” she points out, gesturing to his pin, his hands.

“You make your own weapons. That means a piece of you goes into them, right?” She gives him a nervous smile as she points these apparent facts out.

At least that seems to placate him, maybe even impress him a little. “That’s… exactly right. I take dirty lumps of metal and, with time and effort, turn them into art. Or, I’m trying to at least; there’s only so much you can learn from youtube tutorials, after all.”

He smiles, and she smiles back in relief. “I’m sure if you keep at it,” Kas replies, “You’ll get the hang of it.”

Eric reaches across the table to curl his hand over hers, squeezing it lightly. It makes her shudder, but outside of regular bad vibes, there’s just something about his hands. Something primal in her feels wrong at his touch. A low undercurrent thrums through her head, but it’s just unfamiliar enough that she can’t grasp what it means. ( Blade Dancer bullshit? For a creep? Why? )

“I’m glad you can understand; you sound like a fellow craftsman, so, here.” He turns her hand over and puts a few bundles of wires into her hand, along with a familiar looking green-wrapped bundle of papers.

Huh. Why would he have a Dunj recipe if he’s not a Delver? “Hey, where did you—”

“Sorry, sorry, but I really should be getting back to my shop. But do you think you’d like to go on a proper date some time? I could use some more frivolity in my life.”

She’s struck with a wave of revulsion at the thought, but bites tongue and nods. “Sure, I’ll think about it. Until then, uh, you can get my number from Jesse, right?”

He nods, smiling. “Excellent. I’ll text you, but if you’re in need of a real weapon, I’ll see you again before long. Ciao!”

And, quick as he can, he leaves the cafe, leaving Kas sitting there to contemplate what just happened. She stares at the item recipe she’d been given, the wire that feels warm in her hand, and it just makes her think of him; the arrogant blonde who talked too fast, made gross innuendo at her before even knowing her, dismissed and demeaned her…

She covers her mouth and lets her head hang for a second. None of that feels like the worst part; every second he held her hand, she felt something twisted . Something that shouldn’t and couldn’t be. Looking down at her hand, at the hand Eric touched, her vision flashes red for a fraction of a second.

She swears she can see fragments of weapons stuck like thorns in her skin. ( Fear, broken, protect. Shatterer. ) Her thoughts aren't her own for a moment and, for a moment, she really does feel like she might puke.

Just what the fuck has Eric been doing?

Chapter Text

The walk home is slow and Kas has to stop a few times, alternating between scowling at the concrete and pulling out her phone to text Jesse or Valeria, but never quite going through with it. Instead, all she does is keep walking until she gets to the— to her apartment and heads inside, stumbling to the couch before collapsing fully onto it and staring up at the ceiling.

It offers no answers to the questions burning in her head, but at least it also leaves her in the silence she needs to come to one decision: she needs music.

She looks down and pulls her phone back at once, gently tapping the music app and going to her “ rage playlist ”. ( If it’ll work for getting through Saude times, it’ll work here .) A sharp inhale is the only warning she gets before a woman’s voice screams her fury through tiny phone speakers, filling the room with savagery and raw emotion, complemented by a heavy bass, almost abusive drumming, and bare whisper of a guitar trying to compete.

And Kas loves it, breathing out through the weight crushing her chest. The song pulverizes all the complex emotions and leaves her resonating with nothing but the raw, unprocessed feelings she had been making more of than there actually was to find.

Eric’s a creep. He’d been dismissive, rude, defensive, and borderline racist towards weapon people. He invaded her personal space, given her a gift without asking and—

Wait. The gift.

She turns the volume down on her song and reaches into her bag to pull out the familiarly-wrapped recipe, before getting up and going to the craft table where she’d left her spoils from her first Dunj Delve and her suspicions were confirmed. Her eyes narrow a bit, but she puts the recipe down onto the table and goes back to her phone, picking it up and texting Isaac as quickly as she can open up their thread.

Me

[Hey Isaac, I know I’ve got a lot to answer for and our lesson is going to be *interesting* to say the least, but can you answer a question I have about Dunjs?]

His reply begins almost immediately and she praises whatever deity is looking out for her that he must be on some sort of break.

Isaac

[Of course you can, Kassanda. What is it?]

Me

[How likely is it for someone to sell or have a recipe you’d get from a Dunj without actually going down into one?]

Isaac

[That is difficult to say. Dunj recipes aren’t so easily duplicated, which is to say that whatever you make with one can only be made with that same recipe once, maybe twice.] 

[I’ve heard rumors that there are “permanent” recipes in the Dungeon that allow for multiple uses and can create truly unique items, but they’re different from the ones we found together.]

[Furthermore, most shops won’t purchase or exchange for such recipes because of that temporary feature.]

[May I ask why you’re so concerned about this, Kas?]

Me

[This guy who gave me seriously bad vibes gave me a Dunj recipe as a gift. But he doesn’t have much interest in Delving, pairing with a weapon partner, or Dunjs in the first place; the guy is a weapon smith, not a fighter.]

[Or at least, not in any way I’m comfortable thinking about.]

Isaac

[I see. Then for him to go into a Dungeon would be quite unusual and suspect.]

[If I’m not mistaken, I believe I know where you’re going with this, but it would be rather ruinous to just assume one has committed a crime because of an odd coincidence.]

[Perhaps because he’s a smith, he accepted the recipe as payment in exchange for some merchandise?]

Me

[Maybe. Maybe… I don’t know, I just really don’t like it.]

[I really hope I’m just being paranoid.]

Isaac

[If you’d like, come a bit earlier in the day for our lesson and we can discuss it while we work on your form. I’d hate for you to obsess about this without at least someone else’s support.]

Kas breathes out and smiles a bit; even through text, the estoc cancalm her down ( Or work me up. ) as easily as anything.

Me

[Alright. Hopefully I’ll be free tomorrow. Tonight, I think I should go and check on Valeria and see if she’s alright, and maybe talk about this horrible date with a creep.]

[She kind of gave me the courage to go on in the first place.]

Isaac

[I understand. Perhaps you’ll have time after, but if not, then tomorrow?]

Me

[Definitely tomorrow, you have my word. I should probably track down Sunder, but chances are he’s at La Rosa, so that’s more of a “whenever I want to struggle with going to a nightclub.” rather than actually searching.]

Isaac

[Wonderful. I look forward to tomorrow and wish you the best with Miss Valeria.]

The brunette Wielder puts her phone over her chest and lets a long, slow breath ease out the last chunks of tension she’s feeling, music switching tracks to something without lyrics, but with equally more pounding base that vibrates her ribcage.( There’s still something super sketchy about that guy, but Isaac makes a good point. I guess I’ll just have to go to his shop and ask him. Ugh. Gross. )

She waits a little longer, sitting like that, before texting Valeria

Me

[So, the date sucked. A lot. But I didn’t get stabbed and I don’t think he’s *going* to stab me.]

Valeria’s response takes a few moments, but her typing is fast enough to make up for any wait.

Valeria

[woo! glad to hear you’re going not die before i get to meet you again]

[and, you know. thank you for before]

[so I’m actually at the park right now. wanna do this thing?]

Me

[Honestly, after Eric? I’d go on a date with a particularly horny octopus. Sure. Lemme just change into something nicer.]

Valeria

[woah]

[you’re gonna wear something better for me than you did for your first, actual date?]

Kas chuckles a bit.

Me

[First actual date sucked a herd of donkey nuts. My second date is going to go way better, or else I might just throw myself into the park pond.]

Valeria

[well then]

[can’t make any guarantees, but if it is that bad, I will watch you until the ducks claim your body] [sound good?]

Me

[It is more than I deserve if I screw up that badly with someone as sharp as you.]

( Fuck. )

[*sharp-witted. I meant that, not]

[Just referring to the fact that you’re]

[very pointy.]

Valeria

[😂]

[thanks, sexy. see you soon~]

Kas smiles and puts her phone down, getting up and going over the closet to strip down and change her clothes into something that felt more like “her '' than what she’d been wearing for Eric. “Grgh. For him, that guy. Next time I see him, I really should tell him off for being a creepy… ugh.” She shakes her head, pursing her lips tight. ( If I could tell him off, I would’ve already. But unless it has to do with a Dunj, I can barely open my mouth around him. Scratch that; anyone who isn’t a giant ball of acceptance. )

Her thoughts flashed briefly to Sunder, almost as if to remind her she isn’t completely right.

“Or a cheeseball…! Yeah, maybe spending time with him might help me relax around people who aren’t necessarily good people. Heck, he practically lives in a nightclub— that might actually work.” She smiles at her idea. ( And even if it doesn’t, it probably won’t be as bad as Eric. )

She pulls down a pair of jeans with patches for the trans and pan flags sewn onto the right leg and starts to pull them on, humming contently while making sure her bra is on right before putting a long sleeved striped top that clung to her just a bit, the sleeves ending just before her thumb joint. She swaps her shoes out for sneakers she decorated at a— well, better time in life. Lastly, she digs a necklace with a sword charm from a little bag that was hell to get through airport security and puts it on as well before going to the mirror.

Fix her hair a little, turn this way and that, before smiling and thinking out loud, “Yeah, good enough. Definitely good enough.” She starts for the door when she notices the “gift” she’d gotten on her date earlier and frowns at the glossy wrapping.

“... Ugh. It’s not your fault, little recipe,” she relents after a seconds-long staring contest, before going over and unwrapping it. A brief read reveals that it’s a DIY recipe for crafting a not insignificant amount of gold bangles; four of them to be exact. And all it would take was five pieces of wire, which Eric had also provided.

A smirk curls over her lips as she takes a seat and begins to craft the bangles using the tools Jesse had left with the table, finding it almost painfully simple to follow the instructions to weave the wire she’d found in the Dunj with Isaac into a large-enough circle. As soon as she finishes one, it flashes and the black rubber and copper wire has transformed into a golden band— like any she’d buy in a store, but… different.

To Kas at least; she feels the magic of the Dunj cling to the simple golden ring, in the subtle grooves that curl along the surface that she definitely didn’t add herself. Smiling wide, she returns to the instructions and makes another three in almost no time at all.

As soon as she’s done, the paper the instructions had been written on began to crinkle and makes reading anything beyond the title of the recipe and basic requirements for its construction completely impossible. She whistles softly at the literal magic she’s witnessing— and even performed! “This is cool. Like, seriously cool,” she whispers the final part to herself, before sliding a pair of the bangles onto her own wrist, twisting them a bit and watching them jingle—

The sound is almost literally magic. Her jaw drops a little at the ring of steel on steel like what she heard in the Dunj, rather than the clinking of gold-on-gold. She does it again just to be sure, and the sound repeats. It’s something so simple, but she marvels at it with adoration all the same.

( Sorry Mom, but if Verona Beach keeps dropping bombshells like this on me, I might actually never want to come home. Next thing I know they’re going to have a restaurant that’s hiring. )

With that finished, she puts the remaining two bangles in her bag, just— just in case, her face heating up as she tries not to think about what situation she might be preparing for, heading out the door quickly.

——————————————————————

As her feet hit pavement, she’s already googling directions to the Verona Park at about the same time she gets texts from two people almost simultaneously. Jesse, who’s already sending more than one, and Sunder, who only sends one. 

Shrugging, she checks Sunder’s text.

Sunder

[you like dancing?]

She blinks, kind of surprised, but also suspicious. There’s no way he knows about her ( potentially ) being a Blade Dancer, and yet that’s the first question he asks? Uncanny. At least she decides it is. 

Me

[Actually, yeah. Not so big on clubs though, and I’ve heard about you.]

Sunder

[oh? what’ve you heard?]

Me

[That you’re bad news, you break hearts, and that you practically live at that club of yours.]

Sunder

[i see.] 

[so that’s probably a no on coming out to La Rosa and dancing with me?]

Me

[I didn’t say that at all, now did I?]

Sunder

[ 🌹 ?? ]

She chuckles a bit to herself as she sidesteps someone walking past her, going to lean against a fence, still on her block.

Me

[I haven’t forgotten that we still need to talk about what happened in the Dunj, and just because you’re a heartbreaker doesn’t mean we can’t still do that. Heck, dancing with you might be really fun.]

[So I’m down for it so long as we both keep our expectations low— to start, anyway.]

Sunder

[i’ll take it!]

[yessss, this is going to be great!]

[come whenever, you’ll get the vip treatment😎]

[just tell the bouncer that you’re with me]

Me

[If everything works out, maybe tonight.]

[Trying to wash a bad day away with better company.]

Sunder

[hold on, didn’t u just say i was bad news?]

[i’m getting mixed signals here, kas~]

Me

[Do you know a guy named Eric? Blonde, kind of pompous, probably an incel?]

Sunder

[not entirely sure what that last word means but yeah, i know him.]

[guy flirted with me pretty aggressively, but he wasn’t quite my type.]

[took it badly, actually, but most do😎]

Kas rolls her eyes and chuckles at the cornball, but she feels something troubling poking at the back of her mind. ( Kind of hard to imagine Eric at a nightclub. Even harder imagining him flirting with Sunder. Then again, the dude is nothing if not aggressive, and Sunder is hotter than a bonfire— when he keeps his mouth shut. )

Me

[Riiiiight. Whatever you say, Sundy. If I wanna make our dance-date tonight, I’d better get going. Talk to you more later.]

Sunder

[until then, beautiful 🌹]

With that soundly ended, she picks up where she left off and searches for directions to the park, but just as she walks out the door, she can see the park nearly right in front of her. Still a bit of a walk, but at least she doesn’t need to check her phone so she puts it away and heads across the street. 

The park itself is lovely: huge, lush green trees, paved walking trails that cross and cover the entire park, benches everywhere . And between them all is the massive pond that sits in the middle of it all. She smiles, breathes in and hooks her thumbs in her jean pockets, enjoying the air and relaxing as she makes her way around the edge of the pond.

It takes a bit of walking before she realizes that she doesn’t actually know where Valeria is.

Grumbling just a little bit, she pulls out her phone again and texts Valeria.

Me

[Okay, so I’m definitely here, and the park is gorgeous, but where are you?]

No response immediately comes so Kas just keeps walking, looking out across the pond and checking for a dagger… Which is, to her knowledge, one of the smaller weapons. ( Fucking Valeria. )

Eventually, maybe ten minutes later, she’s feeling discouraged enough to find a bench and take a seat, sort through her texts from Jesse. “At least it’s something to do.

” 

Jesse

[You did it! You went on a date! Sort of! ❤️]

[How’d it go!!?!]

Me

[💩]

[But no, seriously Jesse.]

[Everything about that guy screams prick.]

[I thought you went to school with him?]

Jesse

[Eesh. Yeah, I did. Guess I just kind of forgot what sort of guy he was?]

[Or maybe he was a different guy back then.]

[But look, don’t worry about it.]

[First dates suck most of the time, anyway.]

[And hey, now you have one kind of dating experience.]

[That is infinitely more than you had before!]

Me

[Jesse, my cousin, I love you.]

[So know that I say this from the bottom of my heart.]

[That last thing you said was really stupid. It was stupid and I hate it.]

Jesse

[Hate it or not, am I wrong?]

Me

[Yes!!!]

[And for the record, I’ve already got not one, but *two* dates lined up.]

[Sort of, anyway.]

[So there.]

Jesse

[For real? So I guess I shouldn’t set you up with any more?]

Me

[...]

[I mean, I guess if you know any people who are better than Eric.]

Jesse

[Thatta girl!. I’ll see what I can do. For now, just enjoy yourself. Date, dunj, chill. Maybe even use that crafting bench I set up?]

Me

[Way ahead of you, Cousin.]

It’s about then that her phone buzzes with a text from Valeria and Kas lights up like the sky on the 4th of July.

[Speak of the devil! First date just texted back, so I’ll leave you to you.]

[Even if it sucked, thanks for getting me my first ever real date.]

Jesse

[Aww, you’re welcome, Cuz. I’ll let you know when I find you a date!]

Kas switches from his texts over to Valeria’s quick as she can, wiggling excitedly in her seat— ( God, I’m like a dog. Down girl, it’s not even really a date; you’re just meeting up for the first time. )

She frowns a little at her own thoughts and shakes her head, pulling the text chain up and reading over it.

Valeria

[my bad]

[forget how big this place is sometimes!]

[check the benches near the pond; there aren’t that many]

The Wielder frowns at that; she had already been by most of the benches, but she gets up and looks over the ones she’d passed before when she spots something. Her eyes widen at a familiar shape and walks over. She puts a hand on her hip as she stands in front of the dagger. “Glad to see you’re all patched up, but damn, you really don’t trust me.”

( She’s nothing like Saudade. Relax. )

And just like that, the short weapon transforms from a gorgeous weapon into—

Kas’ eyes widen as she takes her in, one piece at a time. Gorgeous, long brown hair swept to one side, eyes just like the ocean and at least as easy to drown in, full lips, and that’s just her head and face. Fashionable coat, a dark tank top that’s doing her every favor, high waisted, but very worn white jeans, fingerless gloves, and she’s absolutely dripping in bohemian accessories, from necklaces to bracelets, and all of it is brilliant.

She’s brilliant. And Kas has all but forgotten how to breathe.

Valeria stretches and groans like she’s just woken up from a nap, practically purring. “Aaah, that’s much better… hm?”

She stops and leans in to look the brunette, who’s just a bit shorter than her, over, before smiling playfully. “You know, you either don’t photograph well, or need a better camera.”

Kas wheezes out a weak, “H-huh?”

“That pic you sent last night, where you were flipping me off?” Kas clears her throat and looks away, but Valeria laughs at her. ( It’s the sound of angels. Come the fuck on. ) “Chill. But yeah, I thought you looked really cute. Very punk, a little casual— though, seeing you today?”

She cocks out a hip and gestures at Kas with one hand. “Either way, now I feel like even more of an ass for treating you so badly down in the Dunj.”

The Wielder waves her off, shaking her head. “I t-told you before, it’s no big deal, really.”

Valeria smirks and shakes her head, looking apologetic as she says, “You’re cute, but don’t let me off the hook so easy.”

So Kas looks at the artistic goddess in front of her, summons up as much courage as she has left ( a spark, just one spark, from a beautiful scene in Italy I’ve never seen ) and replies. “You’re cute, too. So there.”

And thus the Dagger is parried, left blinking. “Oh. Well. To tell the truth, I did put in a little effort, too. Figured it was only fair, you know?”

Kas nods and sighs out, heart slowly down a little. Seeing her mortal helps, but the biggest source of calm the poor girl is getting is Valeria herself. Just the memory of their brief bond reminds her of a better time, a possible connection. That they might have something between them...

( Or at least that’s what I’m hoping for. )

“By the way,” Val starts off, tone switching to something approaching seriousness. “Thanks for agreeing to meet in public.”

Kas holds up a hand and shakes her head. “After being in a small cafe with Eric, this is way better.”

The dagger smiles, pity and something else in her expression; understanding, maybe? EIther way, she responds with, “Gonna have to tell me all about it. But I mean it. After what happened, I’m not as sure about things. Call me paranoid or jumpy, but I’d rather play it safe. Especially since, well, my memories of you down in the Dunj are a little hazy. For all I know, you could be an axe murder… Or an axe?”

She shrugs at that realization that Kas might, indeed, be like her, before a confident smile slides back into place on her face ( where it belongs, truly. ) “Which brings me to my next point. What is your deal?”

“My deal,” Kas asks, the picture of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you rescue me from a Dunj, panic text me in the middle of the night, then ask if I can help wipe away the stain of a bad first date, all in the span of a couple of days. I just want to know where you want this to go.”

And that’s when it dawns on the young Wielder just how that all made her look. And she ducks her head, blushing harder than ever before looking past her bangs up at Val. “You won’t judge?”

“Course not,” Valeria all but cooes, leaning forward so she can hear the whispering girl better.

“I think— no, I would like to get to know you better. To Dunj with you. And… if all that goes well, I’d want to see how far it goes.” She looks at her, but she’s so close and so pretty, but Kas does everything in her power to meet her eye. “What about you? What’s your “deal”?”

Valeria stares into her face, eyes piercing her defenses and revealing her every secret. But then, moments later she’s leaning back and smiling with a look she’s only really seen her way once. ( Saude. You really did know how to flirt, didn’t you. But you’ve got nothing on Valeria. )

“I think we’ve got the same deal, so far as the two of us are concerned. Doesn’t it feel good to be honest and up front?”

Nodding, Kas smiles, shy as can be but still a smile. “I’m happy to hear that.”

It’s at that moment a man approaches them from nearby, and Kas gets a shudder of something… familiar. She looks over at him and does her best to keep a straight face; the guy has seen better days; his hair is greasy and unkempt, bags under his eyes, and a cigarette hanging from his lips. That’s nothing to say of his clothes; where Valeria is a well-put together demi-goddess, this guy looks like he lives on the streets and washes his clothes with paint. 

And he’s looking right at her, leveling her with an equally suspicious look. Suspicious and disapproving. “Er,” she clears her throat while looking at him. “Hello?”

He looks Kas over once more before turning to Valeria. “Everything all good, V?”

And Valeria spares him a glance before her eyes are back on the Wielder. “Mhm, everythings peachy. Thanks.” When he doesn’t leave immediately, she shoots him a look. “Seeya later.”

This guy, whoever he is, stares Kas down for longer than she feels comfortable keeping quiet about, but as she opens her mouth, he walks off into the park without a word, leaving only the strong smell of cigarette smoke to remember him by.

“Who was—”

Before Kas can get her question out, Valeria is shaking her head. “Sorry, he’s a… friend. I asked him to back me up and make sure you weren’t the axe murdering type. I mentioned I was being extra careful, right?”

She nods at Val, tugging at her sleeve with a half smile, eyes on the other woman’s belt buckle. “It’s cool,” Kas says lightly. “I get it.”

Valeria nods, before looking past Kas in the direction the man had walked off, then back at the girl she’d been staring down most of their meeting. There’s something new in her gaze now. Regret doesn’t quite fit, but it’s the closest Kas can come. ( Friend my ass. ) Finally, she sighs. “Look.”

And Kas takes it literally, looking up but staying quiet so Val can continue. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she says, sounding disappointed, maybe even a tiny bit irritated. “Your story is just too convenient. I’ve asked around; you’re new in town, a Dunj newbie, and you’ve been on one date before now… But you’re also adorable, charming, and good enough in a fight to walk out of a Dunj on your own? Something just doesn’t add up.”

Kas bites her lip, because she’s right. There are definitely some elements that Val’s missing, and without the complete picture, her story is convenient. “Yeah, you’re right… I m-mean, I don’t think I’m adorable or charming, but…”

Valeria shakes her head. “Don’t even try that. The truth is we barely know each other. And I’ve got enough going on that I shouldn’t get tangled up in a mystery mess. Sorry, Kas.” She starts to turn away.

The Wielder feels her heart thud in her chest, getting harder and faster the more Val moves away from her. ( Please don’t leave. Come on, I have to say something. Anything that’ll make her stay. ) “You’re right— we don’t know each other.” 

Her turn stops halfway, and Valeria looks at Kas expectantly, eyes clearly wondering where this is going. “But you said that’s what we both want. I— I can only promise to be honest about what I’ve got going. And right now, I… I honestly can’t stand the idea of you walking out of my life when you just barely entered it.”

Kas’ face is absolutely on fire and she feels like she actually might cry, but she means every word, she looked Val in the eye the whole time, and she hasn’t collapsed from a heart attack yet. If it works, then she’d do it again and again without a single complaint.

… Shame she isn’t sure if it’s pity, concern, or just plain surprise on Val’s face that hurts the worst. “Kas, tell me the truth; why do you care so much?”

The young woman sucks a breath through her teeth. ( I promised honesty. I want to tell her. Even if it’s going to suck. ) “It’s kind of a long story.” The first words are so simple. She’s sure they’ll be the last. “Do you mind if we sit down? I’ll do my best to keep it brief.”

Valeria nods and she moves to sit on the bench, with Kas following stiffly right beside her. As they sit on the same bench Val had been resting on earlier, the Dancer grips the edge of the seat tightly while trying to sort out her thoughts. It was easy to forget in the Dunj, especially once the monsters got harder, but here, in front of the person she had first really invaded? She feels awful all over again

“I’m sure it’s too much to hope for here, but have you ever heard of Blade Dancers before?”

The dagger shrugs her shoulders lightly. “Just that they’re myths; that any legends about them have to just be that much. Why?”

Kas holds out her swordhand and flexes her fingers, staring into a palm only freshly healed; really, even with magic healing coffee, it shouldn’t have been this easy. “Well, I don’t know much about them myself… But Isaac, the estoc who was there when I woke you up?” She waits for Val’s nod before continuing. “Well, he seems certain I am one of them. And one thing that Blade Dancers can do is… share experiences and memories with their weapon partner. For new Dancers, it’s apparently involuntary, but—.”

She stops herself and drops both her hand and her head, frowning hard. Her tongue tastes so bitter with every word. “When I picked you up that evening, I got this spark. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before; compared to Isaac or Sunder, you— I felt and saw you. Your passion, your art, your fearless drive.

“Then we started texting and flirting a little bit, and—,” Kas looks up at Val. She’s relieved to see she’s still listening, though her brow is furrowed now. “And now I’ve met you face to face. It might be stupid, but I just… I just want to know you better, to see if this ache in my chest means anything, or if some scar on my heart is playing with my head.”

There’s a moment or two before Valeria sighs out and asks, “You done?”

Kas nods, already bracing herself. “Pretty much.”

But she doesn’t get an earful. She doesn’t get a slap on the back of the head, or even another pitying look. She gets a hand on her knee and one on her chin, pulling the scared, timid girl until she can face Valeria completely. “I’m glad you were honest with me,” she breathes out. “And I’m sorry that you’ve got a whole pile of messes on your plate, and that I’m adding myself to that pile.”

They’re so close, Kas can smell what she had for breakfast ( Crepes and fruit… ) and see every detail of Val’s eyes. Stress be damned, she wants this. She needs this. “I’m doing the same to you… … What’s your deal? For real…”

She doesn’t pull away, but she does slide a hand up over her thigh to rest on her hip. “I came for a new start. To make new friends. And to try and escape my past.”

Kasandra the Dancer nods, hands gingerly finding their way over the ones on her. She swallows down her fears and turns her face lightly to kiss into the palm of the hand on her cheek. The Wielder can feel it and sees the same desire in the ocean eyes inches from her own. “Then don’t run from me. Please… because we really do want the same things.”

Valeria the dagger smiles and, at least a moment, she thinks she sees the woman’s guard drop. They don’t quite separate, but the positions change and they end up with their shoulders together and hands in each other’s lap; a level of closeness Kas is grateful for “You know what? Yeah. I think I’m starting to believe that… So. Tell me about this Eric asshole; your description got me thinking and I think maybe we should compare notes.”

And so the pair wile away the afternoon telling each what they know about the blonde weaponsmith and how, somehow, they were both related to him. From there it devolves into stories about worse dates that Val has had on her own. Tales of places Kas has never been, about people who range from misguided and hopeless, to utter douchebags. And, somehow, with the dagger there, keeping her warm as the afternoon slowly starts to settle into dusk, it doesn’t make her feel bitter or inexperienced. 

She just feels privileged to be let into her life and to share in the experience. ( I can only hope it’s Val, and not just me being that sort of weak. )

As a story about a museum director she dated for a week ended in framing for art theft (allegedly), Kas notices the time and groans a bit. “Shoot. I just remembered I promised someone I’d visit them.”

“It’s alright,” Val assures her with a flirtatious wink, “We’ve got plenty of time left— especially in the Dunj.”

Kas lights up, hope brightening her whole face “So you’ll really let me wield you down there?”

Valeria chuckles and bumps Kas’ shoulder lightly.  “Obviously. Besides needing the extra cash, I want to see your combat skills for myself.” She gets up before offering Kas her hand, which she takes gratefully.

It’s then that her new bracelets ring and a sudden thought occurs. “H-hey, uh, would it be too early to give you something?”

Still holding her hand, Valeria, crosses one arm over her chest. “Like a gift? Hrm…” She eventually shrugs. “Sure. I mean, why not?”

Kas smiles gratefully before reaching around inside her bag until she finds and pulls out the last two bangles she’d made earlier that day, holding them out to Valeria.

And the way they made her eyes light up makes her feel like the effort is infinitely worth it. “These are completely my style. How did you— wait.” Her eyes go to the matching set on Kas’ wrist. “Hold on, did you buy these for yourself, or?”

The Wielder shakes her head, laughing a little bit. “Nope. Eric the asshat gave me a recipe from the Dunj, and I used some of the crafting materials I found while I was down there to whip these up. Only reason I’m not giving you all four is that I kind of fell in love with them myself.”

Valeria blinks, looking at the younger woman in a whole new light for a brief moment before looking the bracelets over again. After a moment, she takes both in her hands and taps them together— “Woah,” she says immediately after the ringing of sword-steel chimes softly from them. “I can see why… Yeah. You know what? I’m taking these.”

She levels a smile at Kas, before leaning in and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks. If I don’t see you before you decide to, invite me to the Dunj, A-SAP.”

Kas freezes up a little at the kiss, but smiles wider, ducking her head as she says, “You can count on that.”

Valeria gives her one last fond look before stalking further into the park, leaving Kas to try to catch her breath. As soon as she feels like her heart is calm again, she starts for the nearest park entrance, her path lit up by slowly illuminating lamps.

( Hopefully La Rosa is less stressful than tonight. )

————————————————————————

She arrives at La Rosa after the sun has already begun to set, and it seems like the no small portion of Verona Beach’s nightlife settles here, if the thudding dance music and people hanging around the outside of the building is any indication. Still, at least there’s no line, so Kas can breeze into the building with the only barrier to entry being her own nerves.

The DJ playing has a good read on the crowd, or at least good taste; she recognizes the song even despite the dance music remixing, and it’s a banger even if you hate K-pop. But Kas has a goal, so she goes around the dance floor, ducking people as she heads for the roped off, short staircase being guarded by an absolute unit of a man with dark shades and a t-shirt that says “Security” on it.

As she approaches him, he speaks just loud enough to be heard over the club without attracting any more attention than necessary. “Name?”

Kas swallows and answers, “Kas— Sunder told me to say I’m with him?”

He nods and unclips the rope before stepping aside, letting the brunette slip into the VIP section.

Outside of a decent view of the dance floor, the real draw of the space is the incredibly comfortable looking sectional couch, though the assortment of drinks spread across a glass table in front of it are far from unwanted. Still, the first thing she notices before any of that is the couple already in the section.

One is Sunder, doing the one thing that makes him easier and harder to be around for Kas: talking. The other is someone she’s never met, and she is gorgeous. From her perfectly styled hair, to her flawless make up, her cheek piercings, the eye of Ra necklace, tattoos, the one gold bracer, her entire look came together to scream ‘exotic beauty’, but to Kas it all leaves her feeling like she’s stepping into the presence of a Pharaoh.

A Pharaoh who Sunder is practically whining to. Julius Caesar he is most certainly not, but Kas isn’t entirely sure she’s Cleopatra, either.

“— Look, I’m sure it’s possible. You wait and see, one day I’ll prove you wrong.”

She rolls her eyes lightly, but responds with genuine disappointment. “You won’t, and then I’ll be sad.”

“All the more reason for me to prove otherwise!” Sunder notices her and gives her a serious look ( that I did not think he was capable of, huh. ) before asking, “Hey, Kas, do you believe in soulmates?”

Kas winces at the question and for a moment, she thinks she sees kinship in the faces of both of the impossibly attractive people, before sighing out. “I think after the last couple of days, I can believe in anything, but the idea that two souls are just made for each other? Sounds like a lazy way of saying you don’t want to put in the effort to forge a bond with a person you like.”

Sunder blinks then leans towards her while the woman stares at her, eyes intense. Kas jerks her gaze from one to the other, feeling like maybe she said something she shouldn’t. 

“Sounds like there’s a story there,” the talwar responds. “But I get your point. I just can’t resist the idea of finding someone… perfect.” Regardless, he waves her over and she ends up sitting between the pair, though she finds herself edging closer to Sunder out of instinct; something about his friend(?) makes her feel pinned down, trapped.

“Well,” Kas starts, frowning a little. “Perfect is the enemy of good. If you keep chasing perfection, you’re gonna miss out on all the great things you’re passing by… That said, I guess we have somewhat different definitions of “soulmate”.”

The woman tilts her chin up a little. “And what’s yours?”

The Wielder’s eyes dart away, unable to maintain contact for long, even now. “Someone who fits you like a lock and key, or the cogs of two gears. Thing is, there doesn’t have to only be one person out there for everyone, but when you do meet someone that fits, when you get that satisfying synergy? Isn’t that worth holding onto, even if it’s not perfect?”

A feminine voice makes a triumphant sound that draws Kas’ eye back to her, seeing her lean back in her seat and looking just a bit smug, though it’s hard to tell if it’s at her or Sunder. “Not very romantic.”

Sunder grumbles a little. “But it does sound like what I’m talking about.” He looks away from his friend to Kas and smiles pleasantly. “Thanks for sharing, and helping me prove my point. Your idea of a soulmate sounds wonderful; I’m just… being a bit picky, I suppose.”

“Oh, uh, you’re welcome! Didn’t realize there was some kind of debate going on.”

The “Pharaoh” rolls her eyes and reaches out for a drink from the table ( dark red, really dark. ) and takes a sip. “Just the same debate we’ve had going for the last 100 years or so, don’t mind him.”

Sunder leans back. “Whatever. Kas, this is Mandy. She’s my business partner, and the co-owner of La Rosa.”

( Pharaoh sounds better. ) Mandy nods her direction. “Charmed, actually. Don’t be shy, feel free to have a drink— unless alcohol isn’t your thing.”

Kas holds up her hands in surrender and looks more than a little embarrassed. “Sorry, my meds make even a little alcohol hit me like a truck. Unless you want me to flop about on the dance floor like a fish, I’ll have to stick to water or mocktails.” 

The woman across from her nods, seemingly happy to accept the answer without complaint. “Fair enough.” She snaps her fingers sharply and, almost from nowhere, a different bouncer than the one from before appears from around the corner and leans it at her side. “Bring me something fruity and virginal.”

“Right away, ma’am,” and he’s off again.

The brunette turns almost as red as Mandy’s drink and ducks her head. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Sunder huffs beside her. “Yeah, Mandy, you really didn’t.”

There’s exasperation in Mandy’s tone, but an edge of something else that reminds Kas of the dungeon: danger, frustration, beware. “The girl is here to dance and, in case you’ve forgotten, girl’s need to stay hydrated. Last thing we want is her to drop because you didn’t think to get her a drink, lover boy.”

He bristles beside her ( when did he get so close? Actually, when did this become Mandy versus me and Sunder? ) and she swears she can hear him hiss. “It’s not like that, I’m just saying that I invited her out, so I was going to get her a drink. Must you be so dramatic?”

Kas snorts and suddenly both sets of (extremely beautiful) eyes are on her, though it was Mandy that questions it first. “Something to say, girl?”

“... Just that you’re both being massively dramatic? Like, it’s actually really fun to watch play out.”

Mandy narrows her eyes for a second… before relaxing with a sigh and an almost tired smile, turning her gaze to Sunder for a moment. It’s only because Kas prefers watching lips, but she notices that Mandy’s move very, very quickly for a moment before she addresses her again. “Okay, I see your point. Sunder calls you Kas, but do you have a full name?”

She nods. “Kasandra Woods.”

“Wonderful, I’ll put you on the list; feel free to come by any time, and not just to visit lover boy here.”

Sunder groans softly at that and shakes his head. “You are just the worst sometimes, Mandy.”

“Maybe,” she replies with a slow drawl, only to perk as the DJ switches tracks ( Verona Beach Nights? … Shit, how did I not recognize this place sooner? Marskye and McQueen must be local to here. ) and start to slide out of the booth. “But nevermind that. This is a good song. Let’s dance.”

Sunder finally looks relieved and starts to move when he bumps into Kas. “Ah, right. I’m all healed up from my ordeal, but are you good? Word around town is you were down in that Dunj for quite awhile, and there’s even a rumor you walked out.”

Kas doesn’t block him any further though, smiling a little at the talwar while flexing her right arm. “Eh, I went down five floors, fought a boss monster, won, and left. No big deal~ But uh, did feel like I broke my arm until I got some decent sleep.”

Mandy stops short and looks over her shoulder at the pair and Kas only just sees it, so she’s certain she’s wrong. ( But her eyes were red for a second there, right? … Right? ) “Five floors and a boss? Well aren’t you skilled. Regular dungeoneer?”

Sunder pats Kas on the back and guides her forward lightly to catch up with Mandy, who’s determined to lead them onto the dance floor as soon as her question is asked. “Oh, uh, nope! First time, actually.”

The pair of them give her a look this time. Poor girl’s insides start to twist before Sunder grins wide. “A real natural. Been ages since I heard anyone talk about them, right Mandy?”

“Ages, yes,” she drawls, suddenly losing interest. “Enough talk, I’m dancing. Kas, feel free to join me—”

The bouncer from before comes over to them with a glass filled with something pink, earning Mandy’s glare. “... After you finish your drink. Stick with Sunder; he loves to sway.”

She nods, embarrassed as hell as she takes the glass from the large man with pecs larger than her head, standing beside Sunder and taking a sip ( peach, very peach-flavored. ) while watching Mandy get into it. Really into it, from her perspective.

Sunder, conversely, is bobbing his head and relaxing for the moment, seemingly distracted. “Sorry about her,” he says, breaking the “silence” between them and nodding towards Mandy. “She can’t help herself when it comes to meddling in other people’s business.”

Kas shrugs, still watching the dark-skinned beauty dance between people but never too far from the pair of them. She leans towards Sunder. “It’s cool. Honestly, I think the two of you seem like good friends. Definitely some… boundary issues, but she seems like she cares about you.”

“Right. I suppose.” He finishes off his drink and wipes his lips. Kas takes that as an excuse to do the same before putting her empty glass down. “I’m going to the bathroom. You dance, get into it; I’ll be back soon.”

And like that, he’s gone, blending into the crowd and leaving Kas more or less alone. She rolls her eyes ( Such a gentleman. ) before giving into his request. She might lack confidence in talking to people, but moving, dancing? She flows with the rhythm and steps in time, letting the music move her. She throws her arms in the air and shakes her hips, feeling a charge, maybe even a spark as she gets more and more into it.

At some point she must’ve closed her eyes, but she doesn’t notice Mandy until she’s sliding a hand around her waist and bringing her back. The woman is very, very close, close enough she can smell the mix of perfumes, colognes, and sweat she practically stole from the other clubbers. She’s also cold, but Kas is a furnace so at least she’s grateful for that. “You move well, little Dancer.”

The way she says the word sends shudders through her, but Kas doesn’t let it stop her flow; in an act of daring, she slides her arms around Mandy, bodies moving together— no. No, it’s practically a fight for dominance. Who leads, who follows; who submits.

Kas swallows, but as submissive as she is, she’s also determined as hell.

“So do you, Pharaoh.”

Mandy laughs, first a bark then a light chuckle that warms her partner’s cheeks, before taking the chance to grab Kas’ wrist and twirling her around, only to pull her back so she’s facing away. The woman is shockingly strong, and quick as well; her other wrist is held before she’s even sure what’s happening. But nothing about it feels malicious: the grip on her wrists melts into Mandy holding her hands, and the battle is all but lost for the Blade Dancer. 

Now they sway, and speak, on Mandy’s terms.

“You have absolutely no idea, little one. About me, or Sunder.”

Kas tries to speak, but her voice catches in her throat and all that comes out is a soft whine she hasn’t made for a real person in years. And it makes Mandy chuckle right into her ear.

“Listen, I just wanted to give you a warning, but now I think I should give you some advice. From someone who’s seen infinitely more than you and knows a thing or two. We’ll need to be quick, though.”

Convinced she can’t speak, the bound Dancer settles for a nod.

“Good girl,” Mandy purrs. ( Dirty move, woman! ) “Warning first. Sunder is… well, whatever you’ve heard about him, it’s worse than that. He’s dual-edged; even if you want to use him, he’ll use you right back. And unless you really are his soulmate, the only one who will come out hurt from that arrangement will be you.”

Kas breathes out, shaken to her emotional and… certain other cores, just manages to croak out, “I think I can manage, but I really appreciate it. The g-guy’s a cornball, anyway.”

Mandy chuckles again, but almost lovingly this time. “Again, you have no idea. But there are layers to him. Maybe you’ll see them… but it’s better if you don’t.” She presses her lips against the curve of Kas’ throat and speaks right into the vein that runs there, close enough she can feel the words. “As for that advice.”

There’s a pause, a moment where Kas is sure Mandy might just bite her; that thrum of danger echos all around them and it makes her whimper because she can’t fight like this— but as soon as it appears, it’s gone.

“You are a Blade Dancer. Instincts that strong, there’s no doubt. By the gods, do you have any idea how long it’s been since I met one of your kind??”

“What was that,” Kas gasps out.

Mandy hums softly, resting her chin on the girl’s shoulder, palms releasing her hands and letting her relax while she strokes her fingertips over her arms, drawing her sleeves up and teasing her skin with the tips of her nails. “Call it a sixth sense, little one. A warning sign that something other was threatening you.”

“... I don’t know what you are,” the Dancer breathes out, voice less shaky with every word, slowly turning in Mandy’s embrace to look up at her. “But I know you aren’t human.”

There’s a smile on those perfect features, a kind of desire that Kas has seen reflected in her Mother’s, or a customer’s eyes when she’s presented them with a delicious looking meal. It’s not quite hunger; that implies a need. It’s almost gluttony. 

( I’m a treat for her. )

“You’re going to take Sunder with you down into the Dungeon, whether or not I try to dissuade you, aren’t you.”

Kas nods, resolute. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Mandy nods and reaches up to curl her hand around the girl’s cheek. “Good,” she whispers before leaning in to kiss the corner of her mouth; just enough to make Kas’ heart skip a beat, but not enough that she can kiss back. It’s quick, but far from chaste, and as soon as it’s over Mandy draws away.

“I know you won’t be able to change him, but I like you. And I think I want to see how he’ll change your steps, Dancer.” She turns and starts to saunter away, somehow in time with the song even as it draws to an end. “Good luck!”

Kas stands there, touching her lips while her thoughts race over a dozen different things. What is Mandy? Who is Mandy, really? And how the hell does she know what a Blade Dancer is, let alone what that’ll mean for her and Sunder?

Before she can linger on those questions too long, the crowd parts and she sees a familiar ruby talwar dancing it’s way towards her. “Mandy left, huh? Just us two now; let’s enjoy the moment while we can…”

Kas hesitates, but not long enough for him to seem to notice. Her eyes narrow, a dangerous smile curls across her lips. “Sure thing. Mind if I wield you for a sec?”

His metallic chuckle is different from Isaac’s and he flips around to offer himself to her. “Be my guest, beautiful! What do you have in mind—”

But she doesn’t give him the chance to finish the question as she reaches out and curls her hand around his hilt. This time, she doesn’t even have to wait for him to warm up to her for the spark to surge up her arm. Unlike the first time, she actively encourages the spark, pulls it through all the spots that hurt her arm before and lets it light up her every nerve—

Time. Time longer than she can imagine, but he can picture perfectly. Everyone he loves is either too fragile, or leaves too soon to find out. It’s like living in a world made of sand, so all he can do is dance, slake his thirst, and live as much as he’s allowed. There’s passion in those brief respites, but for the moments between, only stretches upon stretches of empty wasteland. 

And he is so, truly alone.

— Kas slowly slides into the rhythm of the next song, swinging him with the movement and trying to wave for people to clear out. The floor around them empties enough that she can Dance, twirling and spinning with Sunder. And though he’s frozen for the first steps, he catches on quickly and supports her, pulling and moving and dancing with her while they let the music carry them. 

Her eyes fall shut halfway through as the rhythm picks up and they build into the drop; for the final flourish, she flips him towards the ceiling to the gasps of many, tumbles backwards, before leaping forward to snatch him out of the air— 

He falls into her grip and she twirls as if to sheath him, before holding him out of front of her.

His transformation back into a human shows her his wide eyes, wider smiles, and a very real hunger; delighted wonder. “I had no idea you knew how to dance with a sword like that!”

She shrugs a bit, smiling with too many teeth and breathing too hard to be anything approaching casual. “I had a good teacher.”

“Give them my regards later. But, I think I’d like to dance a bit more with you like this, as humans.” He wraps an arm around her and pulls her against his chest, and she nods her head once.

“Sure. But you lead this time; I feel like I could use a breather~”

He drags her deeper into the club and the two of them dance well into the night, until she’s soaked with sweat and out of breath. He sees her out when the night finally ends, and she heads home feeling charged beyond words. Sure, she might be playing into Mandy’s game, but honestly? 

( I want to play. )

Chapter Text

After dragging herself back from La Rosa, it was all Kas could do to strip down and shower off the sweat and scents of other people (The smell of Sunder and Mandy though… Why do they linger for so much longer?) off of her, but at least the cool water got her through the rest of her nightly routine before she crashed into bed.

Tonight she gets to sleep easily, falling more than drifting. And as she falls, she smells the hot, arid winds of a desert before those give way to a string of clubs, each blurring together until she’s not even certain there was ever more than one. And across the clubs are so, so many men and women. Some last longer than others, but eventually they all end up looking more like meals than people.

Kas can only watch the memories go by; her attempts to pull closer to them feels like grasping at fog, so she lets herself be carried on the ride down, until she finally comes to an end, collapsing onto the soft cushions of La Rosa between Mandy and Sunder.

It’s like she’s back at the club, but the music is distorted, as if only half-listened to, and voices from the pair of beautiful club owners sound further away, like she’s on the other side of a glass jar.

“I’m telling you Mandy, I’m sure I’ve found the one this time,” Sunder says, gesticulating as if to prove his point. “You’d know it if you met her yourself.”

Mandy, however, looks just as unimpressed as ever, picking up a drink from the table seemingly at random, giving it a little sniff before sighing and drinking half of it down in one go. “I’m sure. Sunder, we’ve been over this more times than years you’ve been alive.”

The man frowns deeply and Kas realizes she can only see the vague details of his face, his neck, his shoulders; the parts he isn’t able to visualize or can’t see. “Keep that kind of talk to yourself when she gets here.” After a moment of silence between them, he pleads aggressively, “Please.”

She gives him a look that cuts him to the bone; Kas can feel her judgment and it hurts twice over. “Fine. But only because those texts you showed me have me interested. That and… well, the rumors. For whatever they’re worth. Speaking of, I cannot believe you let yourself get caught by someone.”

At this he growls, actually growls and leans back, sighing while running his fingers through his hair, flicking it out like a model (He probably doesn’t even know how to turn it off. Poor guy.) before opening his mouth. “I got careless. It won’t happen again.”

Mandy rolls her eyes, but seems to drop it. “What makes you so sure she’s your ‘soulmate’, anyway? And if you say it’s a feeling, I’m throwing this—,” she stops, realizing her glass is empty. “Well, a drink in your face.”

“She isn’t into me for my charm, but she still goes along with it,” he says, in a voice Kas hasn’t heard from him yet that nearly takes her breath away. In that moment, Sunder sounds older, more mature, even worldly. “It’s not pity or anything stupid like that. She just… seems to need someone like me right now. Or want. Or I don’t know.”

And Mandy looks at him with a different sort of look, one Kas can’t quite see before Sunder isn’t making eye contact with her, but the energy it gives off is familiar. A parent trying to see if their child is lying, or best friends doubting each other for the first time. But deeper. Infinitely so.

“Fine. But if you really think that makes her your soulmate, you’re crazy.”

“Oh, so we’re back to this again! Look, I’m sure it’s possible—”

And that’s when she walks into the dream— the memory of last night. The parts before she walked into the booth. The parts that helped fill in some of the blanks, but not enough to complete the picture. With her there, the dream’s frozen, and she’s left to stare at herself, but… not herself.

It’s the version of her Sunder sees. No blemishes, her make-up is on point, but she might actually be shorter than normal, and her hips a little fuller. Her expression seems set in a bemused smirk, or maybe that’s just because she’s frozen. It’s a version of Kas who’s confident and hot.

(At least you can’t blush in dreams.) She smiles a bit before getting up from her spot and simply walking through the table, through herself, and out in the club. Beyond the VIP booth is the formless crowd that stirs up a hunger and thirst in her all at once, but she writes it off as one of Sunder’s memories mixing with her own.

But there is one clear moment there. The moment that a happy, merry, even high Sunder came over to her as a sword. It’s so fresh in her mind she doesn’t even need to be close enough to know what they’re saying; what’s interesting is what happens when they connect, and the whole of the world goes dark. The club, the crowd, everything except the music, the floor beneath them, and the memory of Kas herself vanish, leaving the dreaming Dancer to watch as she performs for an audience.

And as they dance, she notices something amazing. The version of herself that lives in Sunder’s head starts to better match the version she sees in the mirror every day, but she starts to glow. Not quite literally, but her flaws blur in the rosy light of something. Some emotion she’s never experienced and can’t place in the slightest.

But just as quickly as it happened, it ends as her memory finishes the dance and “sheaths” Sunder. The glow recedes, but her form stays the same.

He sees her for her, and he is thrilled. An emotion that through all the others she’s felt through all the decades never once popped up or stood out. As the club returns, Kas walks over and looks at her own face, seeing the expression there, and it’s then she realizes that while he sees her for who she is, she… doesn’t recognize herself. There’s a wild look on her face, teeth bared while excitement and hunger play in her eyes. She’s starving here, and wants nothing more than to indulge even more than their brief dance could give her.

And she isn’t sure if this is a feeling she “borrowed” from Sunder, or something else. Something new.

Before she can process it further, the memories begin to melt and breakdown, club blurring until Kas is left tumbling towards a bright, bright light—

———————————————————

Her eyes snap open, then she groans as she realizes where she’s at, and what’s happened, covering her face with one hand while trying to ward off the sun streaming through her window. She feels so tingly all over, energy simmering just under her skin, but coffee it is not. (Sun bright. Sun mean. Sun wakes me up too early. Damn you, life-giving star.)

With a long sigh, she rolls out of bed and stretches. Right. Routine first, then she could try and get to her new friends and people— Oh, shit, Isaac.

She snatches up her phone, still on its charging leash and checks the time. 6:40AM. Her shoulders relax and she breathes a sigh of relief, before tapping out a quick response to Isaac.

Me
[Good morning, Isaac! I didn’t forget about our lesson.]
[When would be a good time for me to come in?]

His response begins within moments, not even getting her the time to undress.

Isaac
[Good morning, Kas. I have an appointment at about 11, and it’s…]
[Let us just say it’s not one I’m looking forward to. So no later than 10 if you’d like to have the time to discuss anything of importance.]

Me
[Gotcha. I doubt my morning routine will take long. When do you go into the office?]

Isaac
[7:45 most days. Are you planning on coming that early?]

Me
[I mean, I was planning around you, so sure. Does 8 work?]

There’s a several second pause which does give Kas the time to undress and at least go get the shower warming up before his response.

Isaac
[I have a client coming in at 8:30, I’m afraid, but that should wrap up by 9:30. Does 9:40 work for you?]

Me
[Sounds good! I’ll see you then.]
[Hopefully after our lesson and your payback, I’ll still be in a state to talk about some really funky coincidences I’ve been noticing.]

Isaac
[I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Kasandra.]
[See you then. -Sincerely, Sir Isaac.]

Kas stares at the text message for a good twenty seconds, naked and in her bathroom with her jaw on the floor. “Yeah, no, I have done a bad thing. A bad thing to myself at the very leash— least!” (Or a very good thing— AAAAAAAA!!)

Flushed to hell and back she puts her phone somewhere safe from steam and climbs into the shower, taking a good couple of minutes just to whine and let the water splash over her.

(This is going to be a very, very long day…)

——————————————————

After her morning routine, Kas still has nearly two hours to kill, so she sits on the couch, socked feet up on the coffee table with a bowl of oatmeal in her lap, the television set to stream The Office (43rd watch, let’s goooo.) and her phone in hand to check her texts. Aside from Issac’s texts, she noted the ones from Valeria, Sunder, Mom—

And from Eric.

Kas narrows her eyes at her phone, almost as if it betrayed her for letting his texts get through without at least warning her first. She briefly considers deleting the chain and just ignoring him, but she stops herself, breathing out fiercely through her nose. “He might be a creep, but maybe he’s not all bad. Hell, I’m awkward face to face; maybe he’s better over text.”

With great reservation, she opens up his texts, which seem to start from yesterday evening, probably from when she was at La Rosa.

Eric
[Heyyyyy. 🌹]

Kas let her head fall back onto the couch with a groan. “Nope. No, he’s actually worse over text. She continues on despite her suffering.

[I’m really glad Jesse introduced us.]
[You should stop by Naked Steel sometime.]
[Our scimitars have scintillating curves.]
[And I’m offering a special price for a special lady.]
[Whaddaya say?]

She can definitely feel her skin crawling, but at least she knows the name of his shop now. It’d make researching both it and him a little easier.

Me
[Sure. I’m busy this morning, but I think I can stop by to look around.]

If nothing else, she wants to see if the quality of the “superior” steel weapons he seems to think so highly of compares to Valeria, Isaac or Sunder. But he’s already responding to her.

Eric
[Wonderful! I’ll be looking forward to it! ❤️❤️]

She groans a bit and switches over to another text chain; maybe Sunder can liven up her mood a little more than Dwight Schrute can.

Sunder
[hey cutie]
[last night was something else]
[ur an amazing dancer]
[we definitely need to do that again]

Kas chuckles a little at that; well good job Sunder, mood already improved.

Me
[The part where we grinded on each other for like two hours, or the part where I swung you around like a Bollywood film?]

Sunder
[both!]
[definitely both 🌹]

Me
[Gladly. But maybe we should break up the dance time with some Dunj time?]
[If I spend all my time getting free drinks and dancing with you, I don’t think I’ll be able to feed myself for long.]

Sunder
[u raise a very good point]
[text me when u wanna Dunj cutie]
[until then 🌹]

Me
[haha geez]
[Careful there, Sundy, you might be growing on me.]
[🌹]

And while she leaves him to process that, she continues to eat her oatmeal and check through her texts, flicking over to Valeria’s next. Kas almost doesn’t even want to imagine what could be said after a night where she poured her heart out to a nearly-stranger, only to have it returned with bad break up stories and comforting tales of romantic woe.

Valeria
[hey Kas. so I did some thinking after last night and]
[wow i was kind of a bitch? being careful is one thing, but I must have really made you think I’d leave you hanging over… nothing, i guess]
[we didn’t know each other, so I hope you can give me a pass for it but]
[I’m sorry. it feels like I hurt you that night and it’s been rolling around in my head since]

Kas grips her spoon a little tighter, her own feelings roiling as she reads the texts again— there are more after, but she wants to be sure she’s getting this right. Did… Valeria actually hurt her last night? (Yeah, a little. Why would she leave me like that?) Regardless, was that really something she had to apologize for? (Only if she plans to stick around.)

She takes a deep breath before eating another bite of her breakfast, letting her thoughts on the matter percolate a little longer while she finishes the chain.

[anyway, I’m going to bed before I worry more about this]
[btw, if I ever see that Eric guy again, he’d better not try that poor excuse for flirting on me]
[after what he did to you, I might actually cut him]

(Wait. Shit, right!) “Eric flirted with Val and Sunder? … That can’t just be a coincidence, right? It’d be weirder if it wasn’t, right? … Then again, the guy does give off big incel energy, so maybe he just flirts with everyone he finds attractive.” She shudders a little, feeling just a little worse, thinking about the blonde creep like that.

She shakes her head out and reads on.

[morning, Kas. dunno when you actually get up, but]
[if you didn’t notice yesterday, my blade is pretty much healed up]
[so while i think of a date we can go on, let’s hit the Dunj in the meantime.]

“Okay, I need to nip this in the bud.”

Me
[G’morning, Val. I gotta get something off my chest.]
[Yeah, you hurt me by wanting to leave and cut contact, but that’s… not your problem.]
[Or at least not something you need to apologize for.]
[When you did it, we were all but strangers; flirty strangers, but still.]
[So… what I’m saying is I forgive you, but you don’t need to be forgiven. Especially considering you spent *how* long making me feel better?]

She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she’s about to type.

[I like you, Val. Like a lot. So whether it’s a date, or a Delve, or just a drink where we shit talk Eric, I’m down.]

There’s a moment where she hopes Val will respond as quickly as usual, but when it doesn’t come immediately, Kas puts her phone down and just… rests in her own emotional stew for a bit. The usual embarrassment that seemed to never go away, no matter what meds she took or how she coped, but there was also a sense of relief. (Hate to let a misconception keep going for too long. And maybe we’re both having one, but I’d rather Val know what’s in my head than not. Considering this whole Dancer thing, it’s only fair… Fuck. I’m going to need to learn how to share better.)

She groans to herself, shaking her head as a new wave of exhaustion and anxiety wash over, but at least she doesn’t have to think about it too long; Stanley says something she catches that makes her laugh a little about the same time her phone buzzes.

She picks it up and, yep. Valeria. Only it isn’t immediately text. There’s a selfie of her half-curled up on a high stool, like the kind she used to see in art classes back in school, with the sun shining in through the window behind her. She looks like an angel and Kas blushes like a tomato. A very, very gay tomato.

Valeria
[last night was a lot, but I had a lot of fun, so don’t act like you’re the only one who got anything out of it]
[not often I get someone who’ll let me talk their ear off about that time a guy broke up with me via carrier pigeon]

Me
[I’m still glad you didn’t try to kill the messenger.]

Valeria
[nah, too cute. definitely cuter than he was]
[anyway]
[I like you too, by the way]
[we’ll have to see what that means for us, though😉]

Kas’ smile grows a little bit and rests her phone over her heart, relaxing in what feels like a blissful weekend morning, but is really just the fourth day of her Summer. (Maybe long days aren’t so bad.)

Me
[I’m looking forward to it.]
[...]
[I’m kind of awful at emjoi so just.]
[Forgive me.]
[💙]
[I like blue.]

Valeria
[adorable. Seriously.]

The Wielder can’t help but laugh a little bit, but considers their conversation pretty well ended for now, and flips over to the last person she has to text, and probably the one she needs to hear from the most.

Mom
[Hey honey! I’m glad to hear that things are going so well!]
[Well, mostly glad? This blade dancer business kind of threw me for a loop, since]
[😅]
[Natalia kind of called me that too, way back before she moved]

Kas’ jaw dropped. (Wait. Wait, does this mean this shit is hereditary?! Did I get it from Mom??)

Me
[Okay Mom, I know you’re probably not getting what I’m going through here but.]
[This is kind of a huge deal for me??]
[Please give me more details?]

Though her reply isn’t instant, the appearance of the “typing” image is enough to keep Kas from vibrating off the couch. Barely.

Mom
[Well, if it’s that important. The way she talked about it, I just assumed it was a kind of wielder-only thing. Like, swordpeople can wield other weapons, but for the people who are wielders only? Maybe we had our own tricks.]
[But when she realized it, come to think of it, she did seem to get closer to me. Even to the point where she was more on edge around your father than ever. I…]
[I probably shouldn’t say this, but when Natalia had to go back to Italy, she offered to take me with her. She’d do anything to keep me around, but I was already in love with your father at the time.]
[Truthfully, I was in love with both of them, and they were both making me choose.]
[But I had a family here. Expectations. A life.]
[So I told her no. She left the next day and I never heard from her again.]
[And then your father… well, it’s not fair to say he changed. He was alway kind of an ass.]
[But without Natalia to war with, he turned most of that aggression on me. And then I got pregnant, and he started struggling to keep up with things at his job and…]
[You more or less know the rest.]

Kas bit her lip as the final texts came in and she rubs over her chest, trying to soothe a familiar ache there that she can’t reach. (Right. Dad.) The few memories she had of the man were blurry, and usually colored red with fear and anger of a guy who preferred to yell over talk. (Mom told me he worked at a law firm, but once he got to the point where he actually began to handle his own cases, he just… couldn’t cut it. She says he had furious outbursts, all the time. It’s why when I started doing the same crap as a kid, she took me to a psychiatrist and got me evaluated.)

She sighs a little bit, rubbing just a bit harder. (Well, at least I wasn’t miserable through school. At least she was always there for me, even if it was probably just her way to make up for not trying harder with Dad… Nah. She was just being a good parent.) Kas shakes her head, clearing the thoughts away. Her dad left them with hardly a word, leaving them most of his savings, but one day while she was at school and Mom was at her job, they came home to find closets emptied, a missing car, and a letter addressed to both of them.

It wasn’t kind, his last words, and… (And he just had to be a bastard at the very end.)

She looks at her phone, reading the screen a couple more times before texting back.

Me
[Mom, do you ever wish you’d gone with Natalia?]
[Instead of staying with Dad, I mean?]

Mom
[... sweetie.]
[Guh.]
[I’d be lying if I said no. Some nights, when I’ve had a bit too much to drink or the silence gets a little too loud, I do wonder.]
[But I don’t think it’d be much better?]

Me
[Why not? If you really are a Dancer, then every day with Natalia would’ve brought you two closer.]
[It would’ve been incredible. And at least then you’d be with someone who didn’t fall apart because of work shit.]

Mom
[Please don’t talk about your father that way. I know you were too young to understand, but he wasn’t always like that. Anxiety does awful things to people, pumpkin.]
[I’m sure you can relate.]

Kas winces at the all too true message.

[Besides, if I had gone with her, your father would’ve broken up with me out of spite and his own career. And then I’d never had you. Compared to that, Natalia, the fiery, impulsive, and hyper-competitive woman who would’ve probably gotten bored of me in a year, is just another college romance.]
[I’m happy with my life. Maybe not all the time, but I wouldn’t change a single moment of my past.]
[... Well, I might have tried to convince your father to get help a few more times, and a bit more forcefully.]
[But other than that.]

Me
[I’m glad, Mom. It definitely takes a load off my mind.💙]

Mom
[Don’t mention it, sweetie.]
[But if this whole Blade Dancer business turns out to be more for you than it was for me.]
[Keep me informed? Please?]
[Back then I wrote it off as just Natalia being overly dramatic, but if she was actually serious, then it might be something huge… and dangerous.]
[The last thing I want is for you to get hurt.]

The Dancer takes a long second to think about how best to compose this text to tell her Mom that there was definitely more to tell, and huge, and almost certainly dangerous, but without actually saying any of that and scaring her.

Me
[I get that. But it’s fine! I’ve got good weapon partners, and the Dunjs aren’t *that* tough. So far, anyway.]
[I promise if it even kind of looks like I’m getting in over my head, I’ll stop. And I’ll tell you everything when I’m sure about more things.]
[Love you, Mom.]

Mom
[I love you too, Kassie.]
[❤️]
[I hope you keep having a good Summer!]

Kas smiles at the last couple of texts before putting her phone down and finishing off her oatmeal, her episode, and her morning of being lazy. Since she’s meeting Isaac, she goes through her closet until she finds another dress, this one a bit shorter and brown, with green stitching to give the whole thing a more “earthy” feel. Green leggings go well enough with it, and then another pair of her preferred sneakers that don’t clash too badly. Finally, her Dunj bracelets and necklace she’s growing more fond of by the day.

A quick walk to the mirror and she feels right, until she sees her hair. The wielder frowns a bit. “... Maybe there’ll be time for a change soon. Definitely soon.”

And with that, she forces herself to leave her apartment and kill the remainder of her time outside, rather than melding with her couch.

——————————————————

Welcomed by yet another lovely Verona day, Kas pops her earbuds in and flips through her albums through until she finds one she hasn’t listened to a while; K-pop usually isn’t her thing, but something about Blade Generation has scratched an itch she’s been needing scratched fo a while. So as she makes her way through the streets of VB, she lets the melodic voices of the boy band steady her nerves as she gives the town the tour it deserves. Making note of the gym near her home, the fact that most of the roads led to the ever present beach, and all the apartments and housing nearby.

There’s also the park, but she forgoes it for using her phone to help navigate her way towards Brooks Associates; she’s too early for her appointment, but she does want to make sure she knows the way, at least.

“So just past the theater… wow. He works out of a nice building. Dude definitely has money… though, I guess I already knew that. Pretty sure he gives fencing lessons for free, though,” she wonders aloud, crossing her arms and standing so she can stare at the building while being out of the way of others.

(I can’t wait to get to know him better. Just want to figure out how his head works. He’s already— well, we’ve already shared so much, but I still don’t think I get him yet. Wonder if he gets me… Hah. Probably not.)

Kas shakes her head and turns to walk away to continue her walking tour of Verona Beach.

Passing by the mall has its own share of unique feels, but mostly it just makes her right hand twitch and curl into a grip for a sword that isn’t there. She’s never been much one for (real) violence, but fighting down in the Dunj felt entirely different from weapon combat club or MMA at her old gym. Maybe because of Isaac, or her whole Dancer thing, or maybe because it’s just the first time she’s gotten to take it seriously, but after her last Delve, she can’t stop thinking. (What’ll the next one be like?)

She presses on but finds mostly just stores, housing, a fancy restaurant that doesn’t seem open (Job opportunity, maybe? … Eh. Depends on whether or not things work out this Summer. Here’s hoping.) and off in the distance, she notices a large mansion. “Huh. Neat.”

Rather than walk away from the city’s main roads, though, she sticks to them and that’s when she sees a small store with crossed swords on the front and a familiar name. Naked Steel. Kas shudders and promptly turns the other way. “Nnnnope. Maybe later, but…,” she starts, but the number of people on the sidewalk with her makes her clam up. (But I am not starting off my lesson with Isaac in a bad mood. No way.)

All doubling back does, unfortunately, is lead her to a clothing store she doesn’t quite have the money to afford to buy anything from at the moment, but she makes a note that they seem to sell Dunj items and checks the time. 9:10. She has time to make it back to Brooks Associates for sure, but that is no way she’d be able to check out any more of Verona Beach and be on time. “Later,” she mutters while jogging back towards the fancy office building.

Chapter Text

The inside of Brooks Associates is, much like the mall, kind of disappointing compared to her expectations. People going about, discussing business while she does her best to navigate without standing out too much between the techy business owners and the investment financiers that seem to spawn as rapidly as monsters in a Dunj.

A thought suddenly occurs to Kas. (I do not know a thing about business or offices. Like, at all. Wow. Welp, fake it until you make it.)

She lifts her chin and tries to walk like Isaac: confident, like she belongs but with no obvious swagger. (Aaaand let’s hope I’m nailing walking like a dude for the first time in years. Ugh. Dumb idea.) She forces herself to walk comfortably until she finds someone that points her to the elevators and says, “Mr. Brooks is on the top floor.”

Kas quickly thanks them and heads along. Compared to the first floor, the top floor is extremely calm, and leaves her a quick path from the elevators to a bunch of very expensive looking corner offices—

Which is about where she finds a receptionist at her desk who looks her up and down with confusion and no small amount of disdain. (Geez, lady, I get I’m not in a suit or anything, but come on.) “Can I help you,” she asks in a tone that bristles and barbs, four simple words that to Kas sound more like ‘go away.’

(Joke’s on you, lady, pretty sure I’ve still got a hit of Sunder left in me.) She nods, checking the nameplate on the woman’s desk before giving her a winning smile. “Actually Kristine, you can! I have a 9:40 with Isaac Brooks. Now, I know I’m a bit early, but if you just let him know I’m here, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see me~”

(It almost doesn’t feel like me saying it, but it’s my voice, my words, just… his energy. Fucking wild~)

Kristine, however, looks less than sure, but taps a few times on her keyboard only to open her eyes a fraction of the way wider. “Name for the appointment?”

“Kasandra Woods.”

“... Reason for meeting?”

Even Kas can tell she’s grasping for straws now, and it’s starting to actually get on her nerves, if her response is any indication: “Fencing lesson. Did you want me to tell you when he made the appointment, too? Or am I just going to have to go in there myself—”

“Kas! You made it, and early too.” Isaac steps out of his office with a smile that melts hearts. “Kristine, Kasandra is always welcome here.”

And just like that, all of Kristine’s attitude evaporates, but Kas doesn’t quite buy it. She nods to Isaac. “Yes, Mr. Brooks. Making a note of it.” And there go her fingers again.

The businessman waves for Kas to follow him as he returns to his office, closing the door behind her. “So punctual,” he remarks while stepping further into his office, seeming to invite Kas to do the same. “You know, I know we’ve been making these plans for lessons, but I was unsure if, after our mutual discovery, you’d still need them.”

Kas follows after him, admiring his office while she responds. “Pretty sure even if you try to cram a lifetime of fencing lessons into me, magic or not, I’m going to still need actual, proper lessons to fight more than just Dungeon monsters.”

The office is open, but far from the extravagant space like the Wielder has seen on television shows. His back wall is covered with photos, framed papers, and even plagues of names that seem familiar to Kas; at least a few of them are names she’s seen on the app store for her phone. (Did he really invest in all of those? Damn, this guy just can’t miss… that or he really did a lot to make sure they succeeded.) Either way, besides those, some awards, and a mounted sword (definitely asking about that.) he doesn’t have much in the way of decoration.

Everything else in the office seems to be for utility: his desk, chairs, a couch next to a small closet containing a few sets of fencing uniforms(?), and… do potted plants count as decoration?
(Probably.)

“I’m glad to see that your status isn’t going to your head. I was a bit worried that once the initial stress sunk in, you’d start believing some… troubling things.”

At this, Kas looks a little guilty. “Funny you should bring that up; I discovered something kind of new? And I think I’ve been using it since my horrid date yesterday.”

Isaac goes to take a seat in one of his guest chairs, turning it to the side and gesturing for her to do the same. “Go on.”

She takes the offered seat and a calming breath all at once. “First time, I think, was with Eric. I still had… I don’t know, the memories of you in my head. Of our fight in the Dungeon. I felt like you were right there with me when I told Eric off for basically discriminating against sword people and for people who Delve into the Dungeons. Second time was in the park when I… I basically let Val’s feelings carry mine and I managed to have an honest talk with her. And the third time was with Sunder’s friend, Mandy…

“She got to me, Isaac. Like, poked at nerves I didn’t know I had and triggered this vicious streak I felt in the Dunj but nowhere else. And so when Sunder came out of the bathroom in sword form, I asked him to dance, took him by the hilt, and Danced with him. It was incredible. I can still feel a little bit of his confidence, that cheesy swagger in my head, and I’m pretty sure I used it to almost tell off your receptionist.”

She hesitates after finishing all that. “Sorry.”

But it seems Isaac is a bit too shocked by everything prior to her final admission to even register it. “I… see. So from wielding weapons four times, total, you’ve already picked up on enough about three people to both be comfortable with them but even use the idea of them as a coping mechanism in times of stress.”

Kas nods and rubs the back of her head. “When you put it like that, it kind of makes me sound like I have codependency issues… Is being a Blade Dancer just having magical codependency? Cuz I can live with that.”

Isaac chuckles and waves his hand. “I somewhat doubt it. Though I am afraid to say my attempts to research the topic have turned up more fiction than anything relating to fact.”

She hesitates. (Do I dare ask? … Screw it. He did research, I might as well see what he found.) Kas leans forward onto her knees and looks at Isaac somewhat seriously. “What did you find out? Besides the stuff you already know, I mean?”

The estoc nods, sitting up straighter (as if his posture isn’t already perfect.) and rests his elbows on the arms of his chair, hands loosely clasped in front of his chest. “Well, as you brought up in the Dungeon, quite a bit of Japanese animated media.”

Kas snorts, shaking her head. “Of course.”

He chuckles, but even he seems disappointed. “Indeed… They appear numerous times across fictional history, dating back for about as long as I could care to find. There were some less than reputable sites who attempted to chronicle their history, but the dates didn’t ever add up and the… ahem, topics they decided to segue into often left me struggling to trust the voracity of any of their information.”

“What kind of topics,” the Dancer asks, one eyebrow quirked.

“Flat earth, for one, though I did find their thoughts on sasquatch entertaining.”

Kas actually laughs before she catches herself, covering her mouth and looking at Isaac sympathetically. Thankfully, the man looks just as amused as she feels. “It’s alright,” he says, waving her off with a few of his fingers. “Laugh. I certainly did. But beyond some interesting theories, the only consistent information I could find were the abilities that Blade Dancers might have, and that while people will claim to be one, it’s something that modern science has yet to be able to identify, even in “awakened” Dancers.”

“Come to think of it,” Kas perks up, “I remember hearing in school that sword people still couldn’t be identified via genetic screenings or anything. That still true?”

Isaac shrugs. “I don’t follow the latest news on the topic, but from what I last heard? No, outside of having a person capable of transforming in your familial line is more likely to result in you yourself having the ability, there is no way to identify the “magic” that clings to us in these modern times.”

Kas sighs a little and scritches along the shorter side of her scalp, nodding. “I guess that pretty much sums it up, then. So just confirm something for me?”

He gestures for her to go on. “Okay. So Blade Dancers can,” the Dancer in question holds out a hand, ready to count on her fingers, ''share memories and experiences with their partners, and vice versa. This experience doesn’t have to be voluntary on either person’s part, and the weapon person in question can’t even tell it’s been done, but the amount of memory shared seems to start at “muscle memory required for wielding their partner effectively” all the way up to, “deep, personal, and well preserved memories of recent events”. Which is bad.”

Isaac nods and Kas holds up one finger. “They have a sixth sense that lets them know when they’re in danger of being harmed by something other than human, or is otherwise threatened by them. In combat, with a weapon partner, this might create something like the ability to see a few seconds in the future, or at least to predict an enemy's attacks.”

At this Isaac holds up one hand, a finger raised. “It’s possible that this ability is only exclusive to non-human and non-weapon person threats. In my research, even the fictional sources made it seem like Blade Dancers are only meant to use their abilities to the fullest against monsters.”

Kas smiles. (Hadn’t even thought of that. Which means that it probably doesn’t work against a mugger, but— wait!) “What about cars?”

Isaac blinks. “Cars? As in the vehicles in which we drive around in?”

“Hear me out. They aren’t human, or alive at all. The other day, just before I went into the Dunj, I almost got hit by a car— let me finish,” she cuts Isaac off as he suddenly looks more concerned than interested in what she has to say. “I wasn’t paying attention BUT I think… maybe I reacted faster than I normally would have when I realized I was about to get hit by a car. Because I dodgerolled out of the way of that crosswalk, and I normally… don’t do things like that.”

“... I see,” he begins, clearly disapproving but he continues with, “well, if that is the case, then it would mean you awakened your Dancer abilities before you entered the Dunj and started using me for the first time.”

Kas looks sheepish under the estocs piercing gaze, fidgeting lightly. “What… exactly awakens a Dancer?”

Isaac shakes his head. “Let us finish establishing what you are capable of, and what I’ve learned you might be capable of in the future before we discuss an even more speculative topic, please.”

“Fair enough. Okay, so, we have the bond thing, the perception thing… and then there’s the power thing. When we were fighting that boss, and we were really in sync, just as the precog thing started? It felt like even our quick little thrusts were faster and more powerful. And the longer we went, the more powerful we became.”

“Until the final strike, where we combined two of my most potent techniques into one utterly destructive attack. Further, you even invented ways to “skip” the wind up for my combos in ways I didn’t think were possible, Dunj or not.”

“Hey, about that— the hell? Since when do things like that need combos outside of video games?”

Isaac gently raises and lowers his shoulders. “Magic, as rarely as we come across it, does seem to follow certain laws. I am incapable of projecting blades of energy, whether I have a Wielder or not, outside of a Dungeon. Much like I’m sure you’ll be incapable of some of your more extreme feats outside them.”

Kas looks thoughtfully at her shoes, thinking on that; he’s making good points, and suddenly it occurs to her that there are just some weapons out there who, if they had power beyond the mundane, would make them terrifying in today's society. “So that’s why the guy I knew in high school who was a chain scythe didn’t seem all that different from the girl who was a baseball bat.”

“Indeed,” Isaac interjects. “While we’re all capable of movement in our weapon forms, there are limitations, even in Dunjs; for example, I cannot float higher than I can reach in my human form, nor am I able to interact with objects as if I had the telekinesis necessary for levitation. These are just the immutable facts that weapon people have to contend with, same as anyone else.”

Kas nods and looks back to Isaac. “But down in the Dunj, where magic is potent, you’re capable of more, and with a Wielder you’re capable of things like combo attacks, those energy generating “heavy attacks”, and, apparently, even more.``

Isaac smiles at his student, glad to see her return it in kind. “Exactly. The Dungeons seem to be an outlier. If magic used to be as prevalent in the world as conspiracy theorists and certain historians seem intent to believe it was thousands of years ago, then perhaps Dunjs are the last vestiges of it, retreating and concentrating to create impossible spaces and things.”

She nods, before leaning back in her chair after a long period of perching on her knees, her smile turning into a tiny smirk. “Which means that they’re the places where Blade Dancers thrive.”

The estoc nods. “Indeed that would be the case. Within one, your powers seem capable of swelling proportional to a few factors, such as the threat you’re facing, your connection with your partner, and your own ability. Truthfully, I’m a bit terrified for the boss you fight at the bottom of the Mall’s Dunj.”

Kas tenses a bit at that. “... So, on the topic of the bottom of a Dungeon, uh… what’s usually down there?”

Isaac's demeanor changes as he seems to recognize the change in Kas. “Well, in my experience it was a particularly large monster truck, belching flame and kicking up mud as it tore through the gardening store I was Delving in.”

“But was it anything like what we dealt with? Did it talk or… anything?”

At this, he looks away. “The “driver” of the truck was my Father. He talked down to me nearly the entire battle. But that was the final boss of the Dunj for me. Every other monster I fought would have the usual engine noises, but nothing quite like speech.” Isaac looks back at Kas. “Nothing like the voices you said you heard, and… And, during the boss battle, I could hear them with you. So long as we were in sync, it wasn’t just noise to me…”

Kas’ sigh drags itself out of her, pulling the fear that’s been sitting like a rock in her gut behind it, “Go ahead and ask, Isaac. Let’s just get it over with.”

The estoc tightens his grip on his hands briefly, tension rippling through him before finally easing away. “Right. The… the spider spoke at the end in a voice you recognized. With eyes and a smile that reminded you of someone… Who is waiting for you at the bottom of the dungeon, Kasandra?”

She smiles tightly. (Have to admire his ability to get right to the point.) “A long time ago, when I was attending college, a woman by the name of Saudade inducted me into her circle of friends… which was actually just a guise to get our guards down so she could murder us all one by one to obtain some kind of dark power she believed in. I was the only survivor.”

Isaac’s eyes widen just after the word murder and, for once, Kas doesn’t look away; she straightens her skirt and ignores the memory’s biting teeth at the edges of her psyche as best she can. “I— Kas, I’m so sorry.”

But the Dancer just shakes her head. “She’s just my biggest fear. The root of most of it I guess; I’ve always been… timid. Scared in crowds, afraid of being lonely when not alone and all that. I hate being looked at, judged. Interacting with people I don’t already know is just… hell. And I take every negative comment so badly…”

“Your Dungeon makes more sense by the word…”

“Right? But I think she represents something deeper than that. She messed me up, Isaac. Most of my time in therapy was all about unraveling how often she gaslighted me, complimented me, made me dependent on her and her love; when I was in college, I practically cut off communication with everyone but her and our little circle of friends.

“She dragged me into a cult of her own making and— basically, I don’t want to know if her crazy bullshit actually has any merit, but she killed or critically injured five other people. All that’s left is me. So throw survivor’s guilt on top of the pile of all the other crap— and why are you so easy to talk to?”

Her cheeks feel hot, tears are threatening to spill out of her wet eyes, and yet Isaac continues with the same sympathetic, patient expression, until her last question makes him frown a bit. “Kas, you’ve been in my head, yes?”

“... N-not on purpose, but I know you really have issues with your dad.”

“Mmm, exactly. Well, the same can’t be said of me. I only know that I do feel a bond between us; whatever that might entail, I know for certain that I want to help you. If the least I can do is sit back, observe my partner and student, and wait for an opportunity to help where I can? Kasandra, that is practically the core of my coping mechanism for dealing with people. While I’m seething inside at the idea of someone like this Saudade hurting you and your friends, it is in the past. And in the present, all I can do is offer my open ears and advice towards a better future.”

“...” Kas sniffles lightly and wipes at one of her eyes with the back of her hand before Isaac hands her a handkerchief, “Th-thanks,” she mumbles while cleaning up the near mess she made of her makeup. “I think… I think I’m about done with talking about this… but there is one last thing that I was curious about.”

“Ask it, Kas, and I’ll answer to the best of my ability.”

She smiles a bit at him. “You mentioned that Dancers awaken… What causes that, exactly?”

Isaac blinks, then nods with a sad smile. “That much seems to be a constant across all media, fictional and non. Either a pairing with a weapon person in which they are compatible and a heart open to receive such a bond… or a moment where their life is threatened, and their only options are to fight or die. If they choose to fight and manage to survive, their abilities will begin to manifest quickly.”

Kas’ eyes widen and her hand goes to the faint scar on her shoulder. “No,” she whispers. “S-so… so this entire time?”

The estoc nods. “Indeed. From what I can tell, the ability has no way of atrophying or returning to dormancy. Once awakened, a Dancer is forever changed… That is, if you believe the portrayals in animations such as “Kenshi no michi o odoru”, at least.”

At least that manages to make Kas smile a bit, even chuckle. “I remember that one, actually. God the dubbing for that was terrible… … Thanks, Isaac. Any chance we can change topics?”

“Of course, Kasandra.” And with that, Isaac’s smile returns to a more pleasant, familiar state as he stands up. “Indeed. And thankfully with that out of the way, perhaps we can start your fencing lesson and, since we’re running a tad short on time, perhaps even discuss your distrust of an overly aggressive, anti-social weapon dealer?”

The Wielder stops short and just gapes at Isaac, who’s begun righting his chair when he notices her expression. “What?”

“N-nothing, I— I just didn’t think you could say something so unkind about someone!”

Isaac sighs before strutting his way over to the oaken cabinet that contained his fencing uniforms. “I’d apologize if it were less true; I’ve met Eric, both at parties for a variety of things and once when I was seeking a replacement epee on short notice at his store. He… Hrm.”

The fencing instructor looks over the heavy white garment then over at Kas, comparing the two before putting it back and retrieving another. By this point, she’s gotten herself back onto her feet and her chair back where she found it, and is now strutting over to stand near Isaac without invading his space. (And now I realize the man has a specific bubble of personal space he doesn’t like breached without good reason. Dancer magic, you creepy bitch.)

“How should I put this,” Isaac eventually continues. “Eric is one of the more distasteful people I’ve met in quite some time. An overly inflated ego, narcissistic tendencies, he believes himself to be a Knight Templar despite the fact that their order of monster hunters have been about as influential or important as most masonic orders, and that is made more laughable with your insinuation that he doesn’t go into Dungeons.”

Kas has to blink a few more times because, again, to hear Isaac speak so negatively of another human being. “... Okay, but what if he is going into Dungeons? Because, uh, I am this… sort of worry now that you mention the Templars.”

He turns to her, offering her a fencing uniform in roughly her size. “Try this on to fit, please. But do go on.” He takes his own uniform from the closet and turns away from her, giving her the privacy to do the same, though… (Were his cheeks a bit darker? Nah. No way.)

“Well,” she begins while stripping off her dress and shoes before starting to pull on the borrowed jumpsuit, all white and marked only with a brand logo she doesn’t recognize. “The Templar are sort of famous for having found ways to fight monsters without weapon partners, Isaac. If Eric’s claim has any truth to it, he does have access to a bunch of weapons to pull it off.”

Isaac hums (The consideration noise!) and she can hear him zipping up his uniform. She hurries to do the same. (Tight in some places, loose in others. At least one of the tight places is my chest. Finally…) “I hadn’t considered that… But that still leaves the question of motive; why would he go down into a Dungeon and imprison or otherwise leave damaged weapons?”

Kas slips back into her shoes, inhales slowly, before turning to face Isaac. He checks over his shoulder and does the same, smile on his face but curiosity making the expression sparkle. “I’ve got some theories. The guy is a notorious flirt; he’s already made passes at both Sunder and Val— er, Valeria, both of whom turned him down pretty spectacularly. The timing doesn’t seem quite right, but it can’t be a coincidence that people he’s flirted with are ending up damaged and thrown into a Dunj.”

Isaac nods, finally. “I see your point. It’s far from damning evidence, but it’s certainly a compelling argument. If he has the means and motive, all he’d need is to have been without an alibi at the time of the crime.”

Kas sighs at that. “Which, unfortunately, we have no idea when that would be, since Valeria and Sunder both keep pretty crazy schedules from what I can tell. They could have been down in that Dunj for a day or a week, and I think even Mandy probably—” She stops herself, the dream of Sunder and Mandy coming back to her in a bit of a rush. “... Actually, Mandy would’ve noticed if he didn’t respond after a bit.”

“Really? Interesting observation.” Isaac struts over to the cabinet to pull what looks like a pair of epees down before walking towards her. “Then Mandy might at least be able to give you a rough timeline. While I’d prefer you not put yourself at risk over this, you are in an undoubtedly unique position to gather evidence to put a stop to whatever plot is taking place in Verona Beach.”

The estoc offers the sword to her, handle first, and Kas takes it gingerly with a soft, “Thanks” before he continues. “Hopefully, he is just a “creep” with personality defects and not an actual criminal. But for now, are you ready to begin?”

She takes a deep breath before moving into the en garde stance she’s felt Isaac take a million times; her lead foot pointed towards Isaac with her back foot turned out away from her. “Yeah, I think so.”

Isaac looks her over carefully, before walking over and helping her adjust her grip to suit the epee. “You may have my muscle memory, but I tend to favor the foil myself; it’s a somewhat different sword, but I quite enjoy a foil match over epee, if only because it plays well to my strengths.”

Kas looks up at him, curious as can be while he calmly helps her adjust her arms to strengthen her guard. “Which strength is that?”

He chuckles softly before stepping back to his own position, just outside the her blade’s immediate reach. “In epee matches,” he explains while taking his stance as naturally as breathing. “First to touch scores, but if the person who was touched can manage to strike back within less than half a second, then both opponents score. Much like in a Dunj, where the only goal is to hit.”

“Hence why you started me off with epee,” Kas responds, rocking back and forth idly, getting a feel for the stance and how much reach she should have while still maintaining control. (So weird. I’ve never done this, but it feels… right? Or at least it doesn’t feel any different from chopping things or using Isaac.)

“Exactly. But in foil matches, the goal is to be the one with priority. If you touch your opponent without either being the attacker, or having previously guarded an attack, then your touch does not count, and you do not gain a point.”

At this, Kas lights up! “Ah!! Riposte! I know that word; god, so that means most fencing matches you think about or see on television are referring to foils.”

Isaac laughs, delighted by her delight. “Somewhat! Truthfully, media tends to get the details muddled; the three forms of fencing look very similar to an untrained eye, but from a sportsman’s perspective, they’re all quite different. Saber matches focus on position, situational awareness, and knowing when and when not to use aggression. Foils, on the other hand, require you to defend and attack in nearly the same motion, and thus are a bit more reactive by default. Finally, epee duels are matches of rapid motion where both opponents must be willing to strike their opponent any way they can to have any hope of winning.”

Kas nods, still enthusiastic, before grinning with a savagery that makes Isaac shiver in place. “Right. So how shall we decide when to start this?”

The man standing before this small trans woman who looked nothing like a novice receiving her first lesson began to sweat, just a bit. “When it comes to matters of the blade, you really have no shortage of confidence.”

To which she replies with no shortage of smugness, “I blame my teacher.”

His eyes narrow, but his smile widens. “Indeed.” He steps forward with practiced speed, but she moves with him, and while his initial thrust goes over her shoulder, he feels her jab to his ribs via the light buzzing of the scoring system in his suit. It’s only through years of experience does he manage to snap her shoulder while falling back.

“Aww,” she mock-whines, bouncing back with the same grin she had before; delighted but no less bloodthirsty than a shark. “That’s one for each of us, right?”

“Yes… but now I believe the real match begins,” Isaac says as steel slides into his voice; the girl has shown her fangs. He no longer has any reason to hold back.

Kas bounces forward, feinting and lashing out—

Only for the blow to be parried, and for her to feel a buzz across her right arm. Try as she might, her blade is just too far out of position for her to get the return point.

“Guard and riposte; in a foil match, they flow from one to another. In epee, they are often the very same motion. You may have my skills, Kasandra, but I think it’s time you learned when to use them.”

She blinks, looking almost confused before the grin is back, playful and determined and genuinely happy. “Yes, sir,” she chirps up before returning to her previous stance. As he does the same, Isaac nods.

“Very good. Again!”

The clatter of long, thin swords striking each other fills the room, overwhelmed briefly by the noises of exertion as the pair brought their all to bear against each other. And while Kas slowly learned to guard and riposte as Isaac did, the estoc learned how to match the Dancer’s footwork; it was far from proper form, but after losing four points to him, she changed things up.

Eventually, though, a final score was reached: 15 to 8, in Isaac’s favor. Kas, panting and shaking off the rush of whatever just came over her (Blade Dancer bullshit. It has to be. Seriously, facing him felt almost as good as facing that damn Spider-quin. Better, even! This cannot be normal.) before stretching and trying to relieve some of the aching she accumulated; all those twists and dodges began to take their toll by the end.

“Okay, okay, I think I can admit without hesitation; just because I can steal your skills, doesn’t mean I know how to use them. Like, for example, do you know how weird it is to try to reach for a move you have only to find out my arms are like three inches too short?”

Isaac, for his part in all this, has barely broken a sweat and is just as good a winner as Kas seems to be a loser. “I can’t say that I do, but having to come up with some reactions on the fly to counter your quick footwork is something of a rarity for me; you might actually excel in saber duels more than epee!”

“You’re flattering me, but I like it. Still though, I really feel like I’m getting the hang of that guard-riposte thing you’re talking about. Next time we Dunj, I’m certain I’ll be able to pull it off.”

He nods with a smile. “I’m looking forward to it… hm.” He looks up, checking the clock in time to get a call. “Ah, first it’s ‘speak of the devil’, now I merely have to think his name,” he mutters while going to answer the phone. “Kas, feel free to change back into your regular clothes, it appears we’re out of time.”

She blinks, but nods and begins to strip out of the jumpsuit, checking the clock on the wall: 10:40. (Has it really been an hour? Wait, hold on.) As she changes, she overhears Isaac. “Yes, Kristine, thank you. Please tell him I’m with a student and that I’ll be free to see him shortly… Yes, I’m aware that he is unhappy; I’m not ready to receive him, regardless of that fact… Thank you, Kristine.”

He hangs up the phone with a deep sigh, gripping the edges of his desk tightly enough to make his fingers pale. She looks at him, dressed in street clothes and taking the jumpsuit back to the closet. “Guessing your 11 o’clock decided to come early?”

Isaac looks up and sees her, standing there and looking worried for him. He smiles slightly. “Yes. Let’s just say my Father is never content to have things be on anyone’s terms but his own.”

Kas rubs her sword arm, still feeling a bit of tingle there. “I can at least get dad troubles, and I know at least two things about yours. He doesn’t seem like a pleasant guy.”

The man begins to remove his own fencing attire, which he was able to wear almost entirely over his own clothing, so he really only has to fit his jacket back on. “Indeed. You can just lay that down on the couch; I’ll need to have it cleaned before the next lesson anyway.”

She nods and lays her suit over the couch, before walking over to Isaac and stopping just short of his personal space. “Look. I know that I have a ton of problems to talk about - some of which are literally magical - but if you ever want to talk about any of your family drama, just— just know that so long as you’re willing, this partnership we’ve got going runs both ways.”

Isaac looks a bit surprised, before reaching out and gently wrapping a hand around Kas’ shoulder, going slow as to avoid spooking her as he had so many times in the past. “I appreciate that, Kas. Maybe in time… But unfortunately, my drama is not something that can be resolved by simply talking it out with another.”

Her head continues to bob up and down, but her gaze turns more resolute, even determined. “I get that, really, I do. But if I’ve learned anything from you, it’s that an outside perspective can completely change your world— or it can just open up possibilities you never imagined on your own.” She smiles at her teacher. “Who knows. Maybe I’ll have a video game analogy that I can translate into some cheat code for dealing with your dad.”

The estoc chuckles and hangs his head. Kas can see him clearly in that moment; he’s tired. So tired of this particular problem, that even just laughing about it takes energy he doesn’t have. And yet he perseveres.

(I can’t do that. I didn’t do that for years. I basically just coasted in life when one final cinder block broke my back and just… gave up on life, love, and trusting people…) She pauses her own thoughts, then reaches up and curls her hand over Isaac’s, determination growing for a moment. (But if he can, I’ll learn how to, too. Because we’re stronger together.)

“You’ve got this, Isaac.”

“Yes,” he says while smiling genuinely again. “I suppose I do. And one day, hopefully, I’ll find a way to do more than just withstand.”

“You will. I know you will,” she says with absolute certainty.

The pair separates and Kas just starts to head for the door when someone knocks at it, only for it to open shortly after. Walking into the room is a man who looks enough like Isaac that Kas doesn’t need to even guess his identity. But unlike his son, the man wears gold jewelry, has a pocket square of all things, and is prim and proper from necktie to winged tip shoe; and all of it with designer labels.

That said, while he’s graying a bit around the ears, his hairline has significantly receded, and he has a few wrinkles, he’s far from old or even unattractive. Though the constant look of disapproval on his face doesn’t do him many favors.

“Isaac? Just what do you think you’re doing? Kristine said you were with a student, but—”

Isaac clears his throat. “I am, yes. And we had just finished up when you arrived… twenty minutes ahead of schedule.”

The older man’s eyes narrow and the pair enter a stand off that feels all too familiar to Kas; outside of the footing, it’s not unlike the dueling positions she and Isaac had just been in. Only her partner was already on the defensive…

“Well, pardon me for assuming that I might have some priority in my son’s life over a…” It’s at this point that the man actually looks at Kas, but the girl is used to this now. Sunder’s a bad choice, she has nothing of Valeria to draw from, but Isaac? … Maybe there’s something there.

“A friend of your son, Mr. Brooks, whom he graciously managed to squeeze in between work and his appointment with you. Really, we both worked hard to make sure you’d receive your due, sir.”

His eyes narrow slightly, but Kas doesn’t falter, doesn’t flinch, and doesn’t break eye contact with the man. After a moment, he says with a tenor of irritation. “I see. Perhaps I misjudged you this time, Isaac. But it certainly wouldn’t be the first time you’d made me wait out in the lobby, like a commoner.”

Isaac looks away from Kasandra to lock eyes with his father again, exasperation at his last comment carefully restrained. “Yes, and I’ve apologized for all the times meetings ran late due to my own failings, but if you’re going to insist on coming at whatever time suits you, I’d prefer you call me prior; at least then I could tell my client ahead of you barging in why I’ll have to cut our meeting short.”

Kas can practically see the vein on the old man’s forehead swell at that. “Watch yourself, son.”

“Mm, of course, Vincent. Kasandra, sorry to cut our lesson short. I’ll text you with the next opening in my schedule.”

This seems to disgust Vincent, but Kasandra cuts him off with a smile and a nod. “Sure thing, Isaac. Thank you so much for being so accommodating; you know how I am with phone calls.” She glances quickly at Vincent, and Isaac’s eyes widen ever so slightly.

“I do try to do what’s best for my clients, but I hope you conquer that anxiety— oh.” He looks at Vincent, frowning slightly. “Apologies again, Kasandra. I didn’t mean to divulge anything so personal.”

And where Vincent had previously been preparing for some sort of rant, now he was stuck between a young woman who was looking incredibly embarrassed and his son who looked as if it was entirely his fault he’d breached some sort of confidence.

“It’s— it’s okay, really! I mean, if I can’t even talk about it with other people, then how will I ever get over it?” She faces Vincent properly, her confidence from earlier strategically chipped away. (Manipulative, but Isaac sure knows how to play the game… It’s a shame he hates doing it.) “Mr. Brooks, sir, I… can’t really hold conversations with people I don’t know for long. It’s why I prefer to handle most of my scheduling over text and emails; if nothing else, I can’t get so overwhelmed and forget text on a screen.”

Vincent stares at her for a long time, before heaving a great sigh and adjusting his tie lightly. “I see. Well, thank you for standing up for my son, I suppose.”

“It’s not really like that; I just don’t want anyone to have a bad impression of him over a misunderstanding,” Kas tries to correct.

The older man holds up a hand, however, and she quiets down. “It’s a kind gesture. Now don’t let my son and I hold you up any longer.” He turns away, dismissing her in a way that Kas assumes is meant to be kind. (Holy shit this guy is a dick.)

Still, she leaves quickly, but not so quickly that she misses Vincent saying, “It’s good that you’re doing your best to work with paying clients, Isaac, but really? Texting?? Surely there must be other ways.”

Kas rolls her eyes as she closes the door behind her and starts to leave the building. Once she’s in the elevator heading down, she sighs, both out of irritation for what just happened, and in anticipation of what she likely has to do next.

(Well, no putting it off any longer, I guess. My only options are to visit Mandy and try to get some info out of her, or grit my teeth and get it over with.)

She checks her phone, looking at Eric’s texts inviting her to visit his store in the most flirtatious way he probably knows. Practically begging her over, despite their near confrontation just a day prior. Compared to Mandy, who was a total mystery outside of the fact that she owned and likely practically lived at La Rosa, it certainly made her decision easier.

(Time to visit a creepy sword perv… Ugh. How is that title not reserved for Sunder?!)

Chapter Text

The trip to Eric’s store is far from long, but the closer she gets to his block, the harder it is to convince herself that it’s even a good idea. Even searching all of her “memories” for something resembling the courage to face a threat like Eric, the only thing that comes to Kas’ mind isn’t anything from her Dancer collection, but from her talk with Val last night. 

It had been a story about a bad relationship with a guy who’d been particularly clingy; no matter what she did, Val just couldn’t shake him off. Her usual tactics weren’t working, even after telling him to his face they were over. He’d just keep showing up, practically stalking her. The only thing that worked was to confront him, to his face, and make him tell her why he liked her so much. It was about then that they both realized he liked an idea of her, and not Valeria herself.. The guy tried to convince himself otherwise, but by that point, it was all but over; he stopped popping up in weird places, and they became almost civil for the time Val remained in Rome.

Kas chuckles a little, shaking her head. ( Val is way more traveled than I am… But I don’t think that sorta thing would impress her very much. Better not to worry about things I can’t change— … Okay what is even happening with me today? ) She frowns at her own lack of neurosis and shakes her head to clear the complicated tangle of emotions and thoughts as she sees the pink building.

“Right. Game time,” she mumbles before walking past the shop’s large glass front, pushing the door inward, and stepping inside as quickly as possible. ( No point in giving him time to stare at me. ).

The first thing she notices is that the shop is laid out very much like an artisan trying to display his craft, rather than like a pawn or blade shop back home: all the weapons are evenly spaced on counters, in glass cases, or set up on actual displays. And she has to look pretty hard to find a price tag on any of it, which means that Eric either makes himself a necessary part of every step of a purchase, or he leaves someone to just guess if they can afford it before telling them whatever price he wants.

Kas is willing to believe either as likely.

Still, at least she didn’t need to be stealthy; the second thing she notices, besides the state of the shop itself, ( clear, orderly, sterile, and super empty ) is that Eric himself is reading from a book at the back of the shop. He only notices she’s there when the door closes; she can even see his eyes widen behind his glasses after a blink. ( Does he not get customers this often, or is he just shocked I actually followed up on his request to come by? Either way, dude. )

“Oh! Kas, hello! I’m so glad that you came.”

Kas smiles politely; when he’s off guard, the guy seems… almost sweet. ( If only. ) “Hey Eric. Slow day?”

He seems to panic. “Nono, there were lots of customers in here before! … Really.”

She just nods, giving a shrug. “It’s not a big deal man—”

But the shop owner cuts her off and puts his book down, getting up and coming out from behind the register. “Let me give you the tour.” 

Kas feels her eye twitch, but she just breathes and lets a sliver of Valeria into her, and the smile that crosses her face comes just a little easier. “Sure thing,” she replies, knowing full well a tour of this small shop will be over quickly.

“Verona Beach knuckleheads mostly only go for switchblades and razors,” he says, not noticing or ignoring her jerk at the last word, “but as you can see, our collection has far more than that in variety. Some were even made on site!”

Kas nods. “I can see that. I see a scimitar, a couple of sais, a whole mess of lengths of straight blades from near dagger length to longswords, tons of knives,” she lists off, going from glass-protected cases to open shelves with knives just… seemingly jammed into the wood. ( Gross. Terrible for the blade. ) “Even a few shuriken. But uh, why is it some of them look… rusty?”

At this, Eric flinches again and tries to laugh it off. “Those are for collector’s pieces, not merchandise for actual use; so few people use weaponry for things like dungeoneering, so they’re often just display pieces.”

“Ah, right, yeah. So wait, you have a forge then? Where would you keep it? The shop doesn’t look so big. Unless you don’t have a store room in the back—”

Eric interrupts again by holding up a finger and waggling it at her like a child. “Ah ah, no need to spoil any eventual surprises. I’ll show you my forge one day, if you prove to be worthy of it.”

( Gross. Gross to the point I think I might just have taken psychic damage. Amazing. )

“Sure,” Kas replies shortly.

Sensing an opening, Eric continues on: “Aside from running the shop and forging, I also do appraisals on historical weapons for people around town, and even teach some classes at Verona College on the History of Smithing!”

( So the guy uses tutorials to learn his craft, but is capable of teaching history to others. Poor major choice, maybe? )

“Neat,” she replies again, knowing that he’ll likely interrupt if she goes too in depth on the questioning; he’s got that look in his eye.

“Tell me,” he begins, trying to lock eyes with her but she finds his forehead more appealing. “What’s your favorite weapon?”

“To Wield, wield, or in terms of history,” she fires back without a second thought, throwing the blonde man off balance.

“Oh, well, hrm… All of the above~”

Kas nods. “Daggers have long been a favorite of mine, at least historically. They’re relatively cheap to produce, but that means that whether you’re a peasant looking to protect or arm yourself, or a noble wanting something to accessorize with while still having a backup weapon to the more expensive weaponry, you can’t really go wrong.”

Eric nods enthusiastically, silently ( for once ) urging her to continue. “As for regular wielding, I’ve only ever handled either weapons made for use in sports, or practice, but I’ll admit to my more— let’s just go with enthusiasm for Asian media and say that bo staffs, boken, and the like tend to be my preference.”

“And… ugh, for wielding hybrids?”

She narrows her eyes at him; Eric’s face had contorted, looking disgusted. “I really don’t like that word, but ,” she stresses so he can’t cut her off. “I think a dagger might be the best fit for me. I can appreciate talwars, and I have a close bond with an estoc, but the partner I’ve met who’s weapon form is a dagger and I fit pretty well together.” ( In theory and with magic, anyway. )

“Interesting… So you’re a close range fighter in the dungeons. You must like to feel the enemy’s breath on your neck.” 

Kas shudders and shoots him a look. “Actually, I like to dash around my foes and leave them stupefied, right before I slide in the knife,” she shoots back cooly. After his previous expression, seeing it morph into one of morbid fascination was at least a slight improvement. “Can I ask you something?”

He blinks, looking kind of shocked, just like he did back at the cafe. ( What is with this guy? ) “Go right ahead.”

“Do you have a problem with weapon people?”

And immediately he looks taken aback, before restraining himself and his face, looking away from her. “It’s… not a problem, per say. More like…”

She frowns and takes a step closer to him. “I’m listening.”

But while she advances, Eric retreats. ( Coward. ) “This is h-hardly a polite topic for a first date—”

“So is casual racism, which is what it sounds like if you don’t clarify. Last chance,” Kas says as she backs him up against a case, fury overriding her nerves. Even being this close to him, able to see him sweat and stall, she felt mostly calm.

“I envy them!” He finally blurts out, the blonde gritting his teeth while glaring daggers at the woman in front of him. “They’re beautiful, often flawless weapons, better than what most anyone in this modern age can craft! And all I want to do is admire them and Wield them but—” He stops just short, face red and hands gripping the case behind him. 

But Kas only narrows her eyes further. “But then they reject you.” 

Eric jerks like she just hit him. He turns to face her dead on and she really is a bit shorter than him, but he looks ready to hit her for real. ( Let him try. )

“Whether or not my romantic advances were accepted has nothing to do with this. My feelings about weapons, about using them? That is what’s important to me. Excalibur and Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi might be incredible swords, they might even have been people, but who cares?! Without someone like King Arthur or Yamato Takeru to Wield them, they might as well stay in a stone or with the gods, for all their worth.

“ People , Kasandra, are the ones who win wars. Weapons don’t change history.”

Kas didn’t dare back down an inch from him, the pair staring each other down before she finally can’t take it and walks away from him. “You’re impossible,” he says, a growl rumbling through her voice.

“What? For speaking the unpolished truth? Pure humans will never be superior, but we know how to lead. Without your guiding hand, could you have cleared so much of the Dungeon on your first attempt?” Eric’s tone shifts, a smugness there like he thinks he might have a point.

Kas whirls on him in an instant, voice incredulous and angry . “Have you been asking around about me?”

He flinches, but suddenly can’t meet her eyes. “No! No. But my customers talk, and you are the talk of the town! Reaching a boss on your first try and not leaving in the back of an ambulance? It can only really mean one thing, can’t it?”

“And what’s that one thing , Eric?” She’s challenging him, daring him to say it.

“That you prove my point! That without you, that estoc you were with could never have cleared the dungeon.”

And for just a second, the fraction of a second that makes her right arm tingle and her chest reverberate, like something is slamming on a locked door, the world slows down, and she has the cold clarity she’s had only once.

( My boss fight. The Spider-quin. Saude, promising to see her at the bottom. ) And Kas’ eyes narrow as she just barely restrains herself from slapping him. The fury in her voice is cold. “You have it backwards, Eric. Isaac has already fought his fears and won. His Dungeon Dives are victory laps. Mine are Doom on Nightmare; my every fear on display, and armed to the teeth.”

She steps towards him again, only this time he actually scrambles back with room to move. “I fought a hundred monsters on those first four floors, and from the third down they spoke in such clear, loving tones. But my Boss was the best, howling and damn near impervious to conventional attacks. No… No, Eric.”

Kas stops short and looks down at him, leaving him to stumble as he tries not to cower more than he has to. More than she’s making him . Her fists clenched at her sides, she restrains herself from thinking of Isaac’s hilt. “Without Isaac, even if I could have cleared the first or second floor, I’d have been crushed by the loneliness of that place. It would have torn me to shreds.”

The silence that follows between them is deafening, with Eric staring at her like she’s grown devil horns, and Kas staring at him like he’s a pile of crap.

Finally, she breaks the silence. “Thanks for the tour, Eric. If you ever insult my friends, or any race of people for that matter, in my presence again, I will not hesitate to hurt you.”

She turns to leave, frowning deeply when Eric calls out, “Wait! Please, just— just wait.”

The Wielder stops at the door, glancing back at him with a glare sharp enough that Eric seems to actually feel it. He takes a step towards her, despite himself. “Just… just hear me out. You’re… a little bit like me, right?”

Kas frowns deeper, slowly turning to face him but still close to the door. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re not… too comfortable with people, are you.”

And now, finally, it’s Kas’ turn to flinch at something he’s said, rather than just cringe.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

Kas speaks through gritted teeth. “Get on with your point.”

He smiles and she sees something… twisted, in his gaze. For a very brief second, he’s not there, but a million miles away, a hundred years in the future. “But you adore weapons. You find them, their history, all of it fascinating?”

She hesitates, stalling as long as she can before nodding stiffly, her arms crossing over her chest.

“Then… maybe you would still be interested in my project.” He looks so hopeful, but so sure, and Kas tilts her head the slightest bit in response.

“What project?”

“I want to craft a new type of weapon. One with a bit of intelligence. One that can act on its own while still obeying its Wielder. No thoughts, no feelings, no baggage; just the tactical insights of a human with the power of a weapon.”

Kas takes a deep breath.

( I really might punch him. I might just flex and see if I can summon Isaac or Sunder to kill this guy right here. He might not be a Monster, but he’s definitely awful. )

“On one hand, I can almost understand where you’re coming from… But what you’re talking about sounds like it could only ever be an abomination. Something that has a mind, but is missing most of the things that make a mind worth having? That obeys orders perfectly but still has tactical knowledge? Dude,” Kas puts both hands up, pressed together with fingers straight up, before pointing them at Eric. “This thing is a contradiction that sounds like it would either be a stillborn weapon person, or some kind of robot sword slave, and either way that isn’t even remotely good.”

Eric just huffs at that while looking away, trying to keep his expression unreadable, but Kas hears the frustration in his voice. “Ideally, it could have a mind of its own, so long as it wants to serve me. In practice, there isn’t much difference, so… yes. A perfect servant will always be more loyal than an equal.”

Kas just laughs, a bark of it that is neither joyful nor pleasant to hear; she is just that astounded . “Do you hear yourself? Like, actually hear the words coming out of your mouth?”

He crosses his arms, actively pouting now. “Of course I do, and I believe them. Kas, you’re obviously a fantastic warrior; the sooner you realize that the only person you can count on is yourself, the stronger you’ll be.”

“And the sooner you realize that we, as a species, are stronger together ? The sooner you might finally understand why the hell I’m as strong as I am. Goodbye, Eric.” Kas turns on her heel and stomps out of the building, yanking the door open as she leaves the smith in her wake. She can feel his eyes on her the whole way, but she doesn’t look back.

Not even once.

—————————————————

Trying to shake off the adrenaline as she walks away from Eric’s shop, Kas groans as she can’t quite get rid of it all. She drags a hand down her face and just snarls a little to herself, “I didn’t even ask him about Sunder or Val. God. He’s a delusional prick, but why do I keep letting him get to me?”

( For that matter, why does he seem so into me even when I do nothing but insult him? )

Kas ends heading for La Rosa, the last place she managed to burn off all her aggression. The place is quieter during the day, functioning more like a bar slash hangout space instead of a full-on nightclub, but the Dancer doesn’t care; there’s one person there who might not make this entire expedition feel like a waste.

She walks in and heads straight for the VIP area where a bouncer lounges lazily, looking out over the near empty main floor of the club; compared to last night, the place might as well be dead, even if the person on stage seems to be getting into it. “Hey.”

The large man with biceps as big as her thigh looks down at her, lowering his shades. “Kas? Back already?”

“Huh?” She asks, blinking a few times. “I— I’m surprised you remember me?”

He just chuckles a little bit and lifts his sunglasses back up. “In this line of work, you have to remember faces. At least the ones that become a problem or turn out to be important.”

“Oh.” Well, now Kas just feels like an idiot: Mandy had put her on a permanent VIP list last night. “Right. Hey, speaking of, is Mandy here?”

“Not Sunder?” he asks without looking at her, but his eyebrows raise all the same. She shakes her head. “Huh. Nope, sorry to say she’s up in her loft above the club. Sunder is next door.”

Kas sighs, because damn it. “I guess she’s probably asleep after last night.”

The bouncer shrugs his massive shoulders. “My experience? The madam is rarely ever that deep a sleeper. Do you want me to call up, see if she’s available?” He doesn’t sound very enthused about the prospect.

She hesitates, chest tightening up all of a sudden. ( Been burning confidence all day, I… don’t think I have it in me to actually get trapped in a conversation if Mandy decides to “charge” for any info. But getting to know what I need… maybe there’s another way. ) “A-actually, you keep a pretty good eye on things here, right?”

“I do, at least when it’s my shift. Why?”

Kas shrugs, trying to look nonchalant but the bouncer’s gaze is on her and she’s sure she’s starting to sweat. “... I might be playing detective. A bit. Finding two weapon people I actually like in such a bad state and in a Dungeon no less? It’s got me worried. So I’m just wondering… do you know Eric? Blonde guy, probably comes off like a creep or sex pest?”

At this, the Bouncer grunts, shaking his head in obvious disgust. “Yes, I know the little cretin. He hasn’t done anything worth banning him over, yet , and he knows better than to talk to the Madam, but yeah. Guy used to come in a lot and flirt like crazy.”

“Wait, used to ? When did that change?”

“Eh, about a week ago? Maybe a little less. He just stopped showing up at his usual times.” He reaches up to cup his chin, thinking it over. “I guess I didn’t really think about it, since it just meant less headaches for me, but the guy was pretty much a staple here. Whenever there were actual bands instead of DJs, he’d be here. So… twice a week, at least.”

Kas nods, filing the information away as hopefully useful. “So one week or less ago, he started changing his behavior… okay. Then maybe you can answer the main question I want to ask Mandy?”

“All ears, little miss.”

She can’t help but smile at that; maybe it’s the shades, or the fact that the guy just doesn’t seem capable of judging, but he’s easy enough to talk to. ( Verona Beach is a paradise. ) “When did Sunder disappear?”

“Ah, that.” The Bouncer rubs the back of her head. “Funny you should mention that; Sunder asked the same thing. If I had to take a stab at an exact time, it’d be after he left the club to get some fresh air, so around 3am, about… six days ago.”

Kas feels her blood run cold. ( Shit. ). “Wait. So you’re telling me that about the same time Eric stopped coming to the club, Sunder vanished?”

The Bouncer pauses, before turning to look at her properly, leaning against the wall with his shoulder instead of his back to regard her fully. He’s at least a head taller, even with the sloppy posture, but it almost feels like he’s trying to… shield her?

“It’s probably best if you don’t go down that line of thinking in public, Miss.”

“I— I get it,” Kas starts, stammering but gearing up to try and convince him when he holds up a hand.

“I’m serious,” he says with a voice like concrete. “The Madam was furious when she realized Sunder vanished. Searched every other night for him. One night she came back angrier than I’ve ever seen her and told the staff to tell her when Sunder returns, but that she was done looking for him.”

She gulps quietly. “... Now I’m just worried she found something other than what I found.”

The Bouncer frowns. “And what did you find?”

“A cagey weapon shop owner with things from a Dunj he says he doesn’t delve into, claims to be a Knight Templar who were famous for monster slaying and keeping weapon people “in check”, and a lot of coincidences to him… and he freely admitted to a secret project. One to make a weapon; one that can think, but isn’t a person.”

The mountain of a man’s eyebrows narrowed and he lowered his shade again to give her a look. “... Well that’s not weird and sinister.”

Kas nods, looking relieved. “ Thank you. So do you get why I… I’d like to know why Mandy was so mad? Or at least why this is so important to me?”

The Bouncer looks at the Wielder for a long while, before sighing softly and pressing on his ear piece while tapping at something on his hip. “Madam, this is Adam, over.” He waits a few seconds. “Yes, Madam, I know it’s early, but you have a guest with an urgent matter to discuss, over.”

After a long pause where he tries not to chuckle, Adam ( nice, finally a name to the face ) sighs out and says to Kas, “Hope you’re right about this, or we’re both pretty fucked.”

The young girl shrugs her shoulders, smiling nervously. “Funny, I was hoping I was wrong about all this… but it’s starting to feel impossible.”

After what Kas can only assume is a long chewing out, Adam pushes on the walkie-talkie again and says, “It’s Kas Woods, Madam. She says that she might have some information regarding the person who abducted Sunder.”

Once again, there’s a long pause, but he doesn’t seem to be listening. After too many seconds, Adam turns to face her with an amused smile on her face. “She says you’re free to head up. Follow me.” 

Kas doesn’t need to be told twice, falling into step with the large, burly man as he leads her into the back of the club.

—————————————————

The walk up to Mandy’s apartment isn’t exactly what Kas had envisioned. Then again, anything short of marble statues of cats guarding the path and Egyptian hieroglyphics would have probably disappointed her. No, it’s just a normal, if narrow staircase to a landing with a door. ( At least the door’s painted black. That’s on brand. )

Adam had elected not to lead her up, given the cramped space, but wished her the best of luck; Kas, standing on the landing, is certainly thanking him for even that small confidence. “Better not keep her waiting,” she mumbles to herself while stepping forward and knocking on the door.

Kas barely hears movement before the locks on the door snap open in rapid fire succession, and the door opens to leave the young Wielder face to face with Mandy, clad only in a mostly open, gossamer-thin robe, lacy underwear that probably cost more than Kas’ entire outfit, and shiny silk wraps around her chest.

As soon as the door is open, Mandy is there, leading against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes narrowed down at the somewhat smaller brunette, one finger tapping impatiently on her elbow. “My people said you have information. Tell me everything, or consider yourself banned for a week.”

Whether it was the speed of her movements or jump to hostility, Kas has to take a few seconds to process. At least the low thrum in her head helps her find her focus again. “Right. Eric flirted with Sunder, right?”

“Who is Eric,” Mandy asks impatiently. Her finger is tapping faster.

Kas swallows, but there’s not a drop of saliva left at this point. “Blonde guy, white turtleneck, probably smells like a forge and mid-range cologne. Glasses and pompous attitude?”

“Oh.” Mandy frowns deeply. “Yes, that slime. He really doesn’t know when to quit, does he? … Yes, now that you mention it, I remember Sunder being confused after some ‘random guy flirted with him super hard’, only to throw a tantrum after he’d turned him down. Something about not liking his ‘vibe’ or whatever.”

Kas nods. ( That confirms it. Two people abducted, two rejections, and one of them not long after Eric got rejected. ) “Right. Erm, thank you. I was really wondering about that.”

“You’re welcome; get on with it or be banished, Dancer. I am tired, hungry, and I’m certain Sunder would throw a tantrum of his own if I even considered asking for your help with either.” The tapping of her finger only gets faster.

 “Right, uh,” ( Deep breath in, deep breath out. You’ve got this. ) “So, Sunder vanished just about 6 days ago?”

Many raised an eyebrow at her, but otherwise didn’t react. “You’re informed. Yes, he did. I was livid when he didn’t show up the second night in a row.”

“But,” Kas pushes on. “I’m betting you didn’t notice that Eric stopped coming to the club completely around that time, too.”

And Mandy’s finger stops. For a moment, she’s frozen, only her eyes darting about as she puts the pieces together… until those vyer eyes turn red and she bears her teeth. Or, rather, her fangs. A sudden rush of fear lances through Kas and she reaches for a weapon that isn’t there, but Mandy is too lost in her own thoughts to notice 

“I should’ve known ,” she mutters, half hissing the words out. “I smelt him go into that worthless little shit’s shop, but I just assumed— I thought maybe he had just changed his mind to spite me.” She balls up her fist and puts it to her head, growling practically into her wrist.

“To think,” Mandy continues, looking less human by the second. “I almost lost him in a thrice damned Dungeon just because I was too blind to see beyond— … It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s home and he… wasn’t lying to me about not remembering anything.”

Despite every instinct to run or fight, Kas can’t help herself. Seeing Mandy looking so hurt, even at her least human, made her heart ache. She takes a step forward and gingerly offers the other woman a hand. “It’s Sunder. I may not have known him long, but I think we both know that he can cut both ways, usually without even meaning to.” Not that she’s talking from any sort of experience; it’s just an impression she got from that warm, molded grip of his.

Mandy turns her gaze back to Kas, staring and listening until the red leaches from her eyes until they return to a stone gray. She lets out a short, humorless laugh before shaking her head and slowly sliding to the floor, sitting in her own door frame. “It took me a decade to really understand that, but you pick it up in a night. You Blade Dancers… really do make it unfair.”

Kas smiles properly, without fear or nervousness or anything weighing her down, for the first time since she’d entered the club, and takes a seat on the other side of Mandy’s landing, leaning her head against the black wood frame. “Can’t deny that. Just wish I could get a handle on not doing that when I don’t want to. I mean, that whole exchange thing should be mutual, right?.”

The ‘Pharaoh’ laughs at a joke only she seems to know. “You really are nothing like old Dancers. It’s been… oh, 500 years since the last one I saw?” A soft sigh slips out of her, sneaking past whatever walls she previously had, not cracked from her little “revelation. “And, compared to you, they were hardly a saint.”

“So, you’re just flat out admitting that you’ve lived a really long time, huh? What’s next, going to tell me you’re a vampire?” Kas’ smile sits firmly on her face, even as Mandy shoots her a withering glare. Perhaps it might’ve made the neurotic Dancer sweat if she didn’t give up on the glare so quickly.

“Sure, why not.” Mandy gestured dismissively. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re… worth allowing behind this particular curtain, especially considering you’ve already been behind it. Twice now, if I’m not mistaken.”

( Wait. Twice? ) Kas scrunches up her face. “When was the first time?” 

Mandy frowns right back. “How should I know? It’s your life; all I know is I can smell the touch of something powerful and Other on you that hasn’t ever quite faded. The second is mine and Sunder’s, but the first belongs to something… wet, and maybe a bit salty. Perhaps one of the old, hiding Archons.”

“But…,” Kas shakes her head, frowning deeper as she tries to sort through her memories. “I’ve never been through a Dunj until I came here. And also, I don’t know what an Archon is.”

A long, exasperated groan leaves Mandy as she rubs her forehead. “Your education system has failed you, and thus I am forced to pick up the slack. Ages ago, before Dungeons existed, humans collective fears would gather around their centers of civilization; the larger their cities, the greater the monsters, until the most common of their fears and darker aspects would coalesce into something that would, near the end of their reign, be called an Archon; a fully sentient monster made entirely out of the magic of mankind’s will.

“In response, or rather on the other side of the spectrum, Blade Dancers rose up to defend these population centers with their incredible ability to fight and slay nearly any enemy. The killed the Archons, the Archons tried to kill them, and… well, there was a rather unique aspect to Archons. If a Dancer killed one, the weapon they used to kill them would become much more powerful, to a rather ludicrous degree. Hence a Dancer’s partners would often become an unstoppable force all on their own… And, as humans would are prone to being, absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

Mandy looks her “student” over, to see if this sinking in or not, but only finds a face of rapt attention, filled to the brim with curiosity. The corner of her lip quirks upward and she continues on. “Eventually, a form of… peace, was brokered between the more reasonable Archons, and the weaker Blade Dancers. Times were changing, and as such the “will” of humanity was being directed elsewhere. The groups saw the writing on the wall: If they continued to fight like they were, then humanity would use their growing understanding and organization to remove the need for Blade Dancers and hunt Archons down themselves, creating an armory of powerful weapons - not Weapon-people, but mere weapons.

“So, the Archons and Dancers used their mutual abilities to help shape Dungeons out of the remaining magic of humanity. A sort of collective spell that would, effectively, grow with these advancing civilizations. When an Archon, new or old, came to an area, they could use one of these Dungeons as a way to siphon off the willpower they needed to live, free to rest without fear of being hunted. Meanwhile, the Dancers would give up their waning influence and try to live quiet lives.”

Looking up, as if Mandy had been reading from a mental book, the vampire sees Kas with her hand raised and can’t help but chuckle. ( She chuckles like melted chocolate and the feeling of fingers running down my throat. How are EITHER of those sounds?? ) “Yes, Kas? What’s your question?”

The brunette, her cheeks warm, lowers her hand with a smile. “I have a few, actually, but I kinda want to start with the one that isn’t making my stomach flip flop: I thought the Knights Templar were the ones to create the Dungeons?”

“Again, you’re informed. Yes, they claim that they did just that; time has a funny way of blurring details like that. It’s possible the Dancers formed an organization to maintain the spells after their original members created them. And since the Knights would delve without Weapon Partners, it’s all the more likely, seeing as they have the skills to do such and survive. Or, it’s just as likely that they’re posers, little Dancer.” Mandy hums softly. “So, what has your stomach a-flutter?”

Kas laughs nervously, thoughts racing. It was just a seed of an idea, but with all that Mandy told her about Archons, and their continued existence into the modern age. “W-well, could… could an Archon leave their Dungeon?”

“Hm.” For at least a moment, that actually gives the vampire pause. “It’s possible. But they’d likely need a host; someone they’d have a level of compatibility with, or perhaps someone they’d stuck a deal with. Once that happened, getting out would be easy en— … Kasandra, your heart.”

“I-it’s fine,” Kas manages through a tight smile, trembling slightly. “Just… just one more question. If someone who was hosting one of these Archons injured someone… c-could they put a piece of themselves in that person?”

Mandy lets the question hang in the air, before sighing softly and starting to shift around onto her hands and knees. She crawls towards Kas slowly, as if she’s trying not to spook her; like she’s a wild creature. “Where did they get you.” It’s so softly spoken, with so little inflection, it could hardly be called a question.

Kas hangs her head and gestures to the scar on her right shoulder, moving the strap on her dress to make it easier for Mandy to get at. And get at she does, the dark-skinned woman practically crawling into Kas’ lap. One last sigh, a muttering of, “Bear with me”, and Many dips her head in to sniff at the pale, puckered flesh of the wound. “Mm… Definitely the sea. Salt. But nothing like any of the Archons in Verona… It’s old, too… Does the wound still ache? Has it ached while you’ve Danced?”

“Not really… and no.” Kas either can’t or won’t look Mandy in the eye, but she can feel the pity. The worry.

A hand curps around her cheek and guides her over firmly to make her face the ancient vampire. “If it does, don’t be afraid to back out. Come find me, or even Sunder. I promise you this; an Archon isn’t something you want to face without experience.” There’s a pause and Mandy suddenly looks like she’s pleading more than telling. “I mean it, Kas. You— … Just don’t get in over your head over nothing.”

Kas couldn’t know what her face looked like, but her astonishment must’ve been clear to Mandy. “Okay, I will… But… I didn’t know you cared so much. I thought I was just another curiosity.”

A wave of tension runs through the vampire at that, before slowly pulling Kasandra in for a hug, whispering something in a language she doesn’t understand, but the tone spoke volumes. When she returns to English, she squeezes Kass just that little bit tighter. “When you live as long as I do, you… can’t afford to care too much for mortals, Kas. But despite all of my attempts to prevent it… You remind me of someone.”

“Who…?”

Mandy slowly pulls away and starts to get up, unshed tears straining already tired eyes. “Not today, little Dancer.” Her shoulders slump as she starts to walk into her apartment. “I’m going to go drink until I’m full and numb, then sleep until well past moonrise.”

She casts a final glance over her shoulder at Kas. “Make better choices, Kas. At least one of us should.” And with that, she’s back inside, and the dancer is left sitting on the landing of a vampire’s apartment, with nothing but the memory of a cold embrace that warmed her more than it has any right to.