Hyzen arrived at the dungeon’s entrance just as the moon peaked in the sky. He tipped his hat towards the adventurer standing guard, then proceeded to plunge into the depths.

  He made quick work of the Bat-Apes that lingered around the early corridors, then plunged himself beneath the fountain’s water.

  *BOOM*

  The ignition trap detonated, shaking the walls and the floor — and Hyzen’s own organs — even so, he had grown used to the sensation over time. Now, it hardly phased him.

  From the fountain, Hyzen dripped water on his way to the Boss Room. He turned around the final corner then stopped.

  Before him, laid in the center of the acorn-themed arena, stood only Smoky’s weapon; the gigantic acorn was pressed into the tile, its golden sheen flickered underneath the sconce's light.

  The golden acorn was truly massive, easily the size of a small boulder, though its once smooth surface was now marred by a crack that ran from its pointed tip down to its base; and for a moment, Hyzen saw it pulse.

  He approached carefully, each step a conscious thought to move forward. His eyes wandered around the arena: the ceiling, the columns, the mural, the acorn, Hyzen carefully inspected it all.

  Even then, nothing seemed out of sorts; until he got closer to the acorn.

  The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, and the arena was quiet, unnaturally so.

  There was a faint rustling beyond the silence. It sounded wet, perhaps even sticky. Then slowly, imperceptibly at first, the acorn’s crack widened and a thin, milky substance seeped out. It pooled upon the floor beneath the acorn and seeped into the tile’s cracks before Hyzen could fully identify what it was.

  He took another step and the white liquid shook.

  Then, they emerged.

  From the acorn’s crack, white maggot-like worms drooled onto the floor; each as thick as a finger and several inches long.

  Their bodies were slick and translucent, and their segmented forms writhed across the ground with a grotesque, sinuous grace.

  They spilled out in a steady stream, their movements slow and deliberate, as if they were testing the air or perhaps sensing their newfound freedom.

  The worms left a trail of glistening slime in their wake, all while the rest of them crawled over the golden surface of the acorn and onto the dungeon’s floor.

  Upon noticing them, Hyzen gagged.

  The worm’s swelled together and formed one disgusting, pulsating mass of white. They moved with a strange, unsettling unity; their blind, eyeless heads twitched as one as they spread in all directions.

  Then, the glistening slime that coated the acorn began to sizzle as a horrid scent found its way into Hyzen’s nostrils. The odor was acrid; it filled Hyzen’s lungs with something fiery and stung at his eyes until tears dribbled down his cheeks.

  He pulled a handkerchief from his satchel and covered his nose and mouth, but as the vile worms continued to spread their scent proliferated alongside them.

  Before he could act, there was one final place Hyzen had yet to scrutinize, a place he immediately loathed since discovering the white worms.

  Hyzen needed to look into the acorn. If there was any place that might hint at the robust squirrel’s abrupt disappearance — Hyzen believed it would be found with his weapon.

  To reach the acorn, however, seemed in of itself a trial that must be overcome. With one hand above his nose and mouth and another flipping through the pages of his notebook, Hyzen quickly settled upon a fire-aspected spell and recited its chant.

  “Origami Arts: Fire Breather.”

  The page ignited and turned to smoke.

  From the smoke, a mouth formed within the air. It had red lips and a black tongue, jagged teeth, and as it spread open — a sea of flames spewed from the back of the mouth’s throat.

  The flames coated the floor thick and crashed against the acorn; and from the sea of fire, a pained, high-pitched squeal reverberated throughout the arena.

  In an instant, the vile worms moved as one. They climbed atop one another, clung to each other’s broken segments, and built a spire beyond the flames.

  The worms coalesced. They formed a palm as large as the acorn and brought it down unto where Hyzen stood.

  Hyzen evaded. He looped around the sea of worms and meticulously studied their response.

  The worms churned relentlessly. Their flesh melted within the flames; it coagulated and connected with one another. White goop sizzled and bubbled, like puss exploding from pores — the worms combusted under the onslaught of heat.

  They popped like balloons. Their singed flesh turned black, charred to carbon, as their wails pierced Hyzen’s eardrums.

  The sea of flame and worm clashed spectacularly. Within moments, the wriggling of the worms ceased and the mouth akin to a demon’s vanished.

  Hyzen stood alone in the arena. He stepped upon goop that stuck to his boots. He walked across slime that sizzled at his touch, corroding the leather that bound his toes.

  Hyzen approached the golden acorn. Its surface still sizzled from the acidity within the slime. Then, he peered through the acorn’s crack and his eyes narrowed upon a core that sat steadily within it.

  The core was small, about an apple’s size, and was white. Murky, albeit, and gently translucent; and within the core threads of silk spun in circles.

  “A new Boss…” Hyzen mumbled to himself.

  He had seen Smoky’s core before. Many times, in fact.

  It was dark as night, possessed by shadow, and glints of gold flickered about it. It was in perfect contrast to the core he saw before him now.

  “This is… troubling.” Hyzen said, his voice carrying an undertone that expressed more concern than he intended to lead on.

  He stepped away from the acorn with all intentions to leave. He had defeated the new Boss, if he could even call it that. It was remarkably weak, an abomination composed of acidic worms.

  He walked towards the exit, his mind moving a mile a minute.

  Then —

  *ting*

  Hyzen leaped across the arena. He pressed his guard up and shot his gaze behind him, and yet nothing was there. No monster. No creature.

  Beside one of the columns, a glint caught his eye. A dagger rested upon the ground. It’s blade was curved and serrated, and its metal appeared charred — burned black by something incredibly hot.

  And yet —

  Hyzen picked up the dagger. He rubbed his finger along its shaft and the ash and soot that marred its surface gave way obediently.

  He flicked the dagger between his hands. It was perfectly weighted.

  Then, he balanced its center upon the tip of his finger.

  Perfectly balanced too. He thought.

  With his handkerchief handy, Hyzen cleaned the blade. At the base of its handle, the letters ‘RYN’ were carved with delicate precision.

  Hyzen pocketed the dagger. Then, he looked back at the dungeon, double-triple-checking that he hadn’t missed anything.

  He’d need to report this anomaly to the Guild immediately; a task he’d normally delegate to his apprentice — she could use the practice dealing with the Guild’s bureaucracy, after all.

  “Damn…” Hyzen sighed.

  He had to go back to the Guild Hall immediately. An anomaly like this couldn’t wait. It demanded critical attention as soon as possible.

  “Work.” He mumbled under his breath.

  “When does it end?”

  ***

  The following day…

  “What the hell happened?” Hyzen asked.

  He stood before a field of black dirt. The soil was dry and corroded. It fell apart in the hand like dust and scattered in the wind.

  Beside him, the alchemist Blue paced back and forth.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Right?!!!” Even at the cusp of dawn, he was more energetic than Hyzen ever was.

  “I took some samples back to my lab, ran them through the standard procedures — mineral density, moisture content, acidity levels, organic properties — and across every test the soil failed.”

  Blue grabbed a handful of the blackened dirt. The thin granules slipped through his fingers like sand and dispersed along the breeze.

  “If I hadn’t been here the day before, I would think the field was burned to ash. This black dirt — whatever it is — has more in common with ash and charcoal than it does agricultural soil.”

  Hyzen walked around the edge of the field. Even without fence posts or markers, it was remarkably easy to distinguish the good soil from the bad. Whatever occurred to the farmland here, it was precise, controlled.

  “How deep does it go?” Hyzen asked, now kneeling beside the decayed farmland.

  “Seven, eight inches.” Blue replied. “About the depth the crops would have grown.”

  Hyzen stood and brushed off his hands. He grabbed his notebook and penned a note.

  “Here.” Hyzen handed the letter to Blue. “Search the north-west part of town. Look for roses. A ton of them. A man lives there whose expertise could prove invaluable.”

  “Yes, sir!” Blue snatched the note and scurried away.

  “And make it snappy!!” Hyzen shouted. “I need to be back by noon!”

  “Sir, yes sir!!” Blue’s voice faded beyond the hills.

  ***

  “Lord Cassian! Lord Cassian!” Amanda stumbled inside. Her petite hips slammed into the edge of a table and her shoulder crashed against the door frame.

  “I recall telling you to slow down, Amanda.” Cassian said without breaking his stare.

  He sat at his workbench with his arms spread across a pristine steel table. Beakers and test tubes littered the space, some filled with strange concoctions that danced on their own — bubbling, erupting — others contained specimens in varying stages of decomposition.

  Cassian pressed his quill against his tongue. His pale fingers scratched at his head. He flipped the page of a leather-bound book and pressed his quill gently against its surface.

  “A man is here to see you!” Amanda shouted.

  Cassian paused. Then, he pulled his eyes away from his work.

  “What man?” He asked.

  “Here!” Amanda presented the neatly folded letter.

  Cassian groaned and grabbed the parchment.

  “I told Kuzo not to bo —” Cassian stopped.

  His eyes scanned top to bottom and he stood from his stool.

  “Amanda, fetch the carriage immediately.”

  “Yes!” She sprinted back outside.

  Cassian pocketed the letter in his breast pocket then closed his leather-bound notebook. He bound the book under lock and key, then slid it into a secret compartment underneath his workbench.

  He grabbed his ebony cane that leaned against the wall and then slipped outside, following in Amanda’s rambunctious footsteps.

  There, he discovered a man; shaggy, blonde hair, blue eyes, and with an infectious smile.

  “Do you have the test results on you?” Cassian asked without missing a beat.

  “Huh? Oh! Yeah! Here!” Blue fumbled the notebook at his side.

  Cassian ignored the bumbling and reviewed the data.

  Right away, his brows furrowed.

  “When did this happen?” The second born asked.

  “The day before yesterday!” Blue responded. “Uh. Sir!”

  Cassian glanced at him. Commoners always did this. Was it so hard to remember the appropriate titles?

  Cassian digressed. It mattered not on this side of the globe.

  Before long, Amanda arrived from behind the compound with a horse and carriage in tow. She scurried around the side of the carriage and opened the door for her new Lord.

  Cassian entered with haste. Then, he poked his head out of the window.

  “You! Blue eyes! Get in!” He instructed.

  “Right!” Blue rushed towards the carriage door.

  “Stop.” Cassian’s voice rang again. “Not back here. Sit in the front with Amanda.”

  “Of course! Sir! Lord? Sir!”

  ***

  “So?” Hyzen asked.

  Cassian knelt beside the black dirt. Blue and Amanda stood behind and off to the side.

  The second born son rummaged his fingers through the dirt. Then, with his hand fully submerged, he recited a spell underneath his breath.

  “Book Of Willow: Verdant Insight.”

  Cassian’s palm glowed green. The energy that emitted from his flesh seeped into the soil and spread throughout the land.

  For minutes, the glow continued uninterrupted; and the three waiting behind him remained silent.

  Before long, Cassian opened his eyes and retrieved his hand from the soil.

  “It’s as I feared.” He said.

  “Feared?” Hyzen repeated. “That can’t be good.”

  “I’m afraid we have a heretic among us.” Cassian said.

  Immediately, the tension escalated. Hyzen’s posture became more stiff, more rigid. Meanwhile, to his right, Blue’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open.

  Amanda, being a child, however, was not privy to the seriousness of the situation. She did, on the contrary, instantaneously recognize the drop in mood around her.

  So, she tugged at Blue’s sleeve with a question stirring in her mind.

  “What’s a heretic?” She asked.

  Blue looked down at her, prepared to answer, but before he could do so.

  “They’re people who practice cursed magic.” Cassian answered.

  Amanda was still confused, however.

  “Why is it cursed?”

  Instead of answering forthright, Cassian posed a question of his own.

  “Do you recall the first text I had you read?” He asked. “It detailed where magic supposedly came from.”

  Amanda’s eyes brightened. This was a question she knew the answer to.

  “From the dungeons!” She blurted out.

  “In a way, that’s true.” Cassian spoke as he roamed beside the decayed land.

  “Mana came from the dungeons — yes — and magic comes from mana. So to say that magic originated from the dungeon’s is not entirely wrong, but —”

  “Dungeon’s don’t propagate spells.” Blue interrupted.

  Cassian’s slanted gaze shot unto Blue.

  “Precisely. Put simply, dungeon’s have no need for spells. They possess the ability to manipulate mana freely. With that, they have no need to work around the complex for they touch upon the source itself. But for us external beings, those born outside of mana, we must first find a way to control said mana; hence the creation of spells and the birth of what we know as magic.”

  Cassian paused. He could see the look of confusion on Amanda’s face. It seemed he needed to try again.

  “Take my magic, for example.” He said whilst spreading out his hands.

  “In order to do anything with mana, I must first recite an incantation. The incantation acts like a street for mana. It tells it where to go, when to stop, and how fast to travel throughout our bodies. Now imagine, if there weren’t roads paved through towns and set rules for the carriages to follow, what would happen?” He posed the question for Amanda.

  She thought about it for a moment. Her foot tapped unknowingly against the ground, a habit of hers whenever she entered deep thought.

  “The carriages would crash?” She answered hesitantly.

  “Yes. The carriages would crash. This same principle applies to us. Without the incantation to guide the mana within us, the mana would crash against us. Sometimes the crashes are minor — bruised muscles, damaged veins — but other times, the crashes are explosive, killing the caster entirely.”

  “To return to my earlier point, however; from whence did magic come from? Magic being the incantation, the rules with which we must abide by to not hurt ourselves. According to legend, each school of magic had its own grandfather; a primogenitor, if you will.”

  Cassian paused again. He scrutinized Amanda’s face. It seemed she was following along well enough.

  “These grandfathers — primogenitors — are said to have become Gods. They supposedly reached the pinnacle of magic, transcending the mortal plane and becoming one with mana itself — ascending to Godhood as we dream of it.” He paused again.

  Then, Cassian’s face turned gloomy.

  “According to legend, not all Gods were created equal. Thus, some of them turned to… more questionable means of ascension… resulting in a divide between those who claimed Godhood. Eons passed and chances were granted, and yet, the weaker Gods could never accept such a title. They abhorred the notion of ‘less than’ and revolted. A war erupted soon after and those on the losing end were banished; cursed, if you will. Ever since then, the practice of such magic has been outlawed and any who dare practice it are referred to as heretics; they’re hunted down and removed from society — much like the Gods from which they learned.”

  “So heretics are bad people?” Amanda simplified the second born’s spiel.

  “Yes.” He replied. “In simpler terms, heretics are viewed as bad people. There is much nuance to be had in reality, but for the sake of understanding, we’ll leave it at that.”

  Recognizing that the second born’s teaching moment was finished, Hyzen reintegrated himself into the conversation.

  “Can you tell what school did this? Knowing in advance would really help the Guild out. ” Hyzen said as he gestured towards the blackened land.

  “Well.” Cassian studied the land once more. “Considering the fact that we’re working with vegetation, Darach first comes to mind.”

  Hyzen recorded the name in his notebook.

  “Darach The Fallen. He’s the antonym to your chloromancy, if I recall correctly.” Hyzen added.

  “Anyone else come to mind?”

  Cassian grabbed another handful of dirt.

  “When did you say this plot was planted?” Cassian asked in turn.

  “Two weeks ago tomorrow.” Blue spoke up.

  Cassian allowed the dry soil to filter through his fingers.

  He looked up at Hyzen. He stared into his eyes. Seriousness coated his expression.

  “There is another, much more ancient power that could do something like this. Though I highly doubt His teachings have survived to this day.”

  “Out with it, Cassian.”

  The second born smiled.

  “Well aren’t you no fun.”

  “And if your father was here he’d give me permission to beat you over the head. Now out with it! I don’t have all day.” Hyzen said.

  “Omen.”

  “Omen, huh? I don’t remember him from history class.” Hyzen scribbled the name in his notebook.

  “Do you know his title?” He asked.

  “I’ve only come across his name in two texts throughout all my years. Omen — the wretch who enslaved time.” Cassian looked afar as he spoke, as if reminiscing the time he had first encountered the God’s name.

  “But I’m afraid that’s all I can provide.” Cassian brushed off his knees and walked towards his carriage.

  He boarded with Amanda in tow.

  “Oh. And I expect payment for this little outing. A B-rated quest, at least. Don’t you agree?” The second born smiled.

  Without even waiting for a response, the carriage departed and Cassian waved beyond the window as he left.

  Hyzen, meanwhile, turned to Blue.

  “Keep the field under observation for the next month. If anything suspicious happens, notify me immediately.”

  “Sir, yes sir!”