Leon kicked at a rock as he trudged along the edge of Drelm’s farmland. Cassandra’s map had been more of a sketch than directions. Somewhere beyond the fields, hidden among the hills and brush, was the sealed stairwell that led down to the dungeon. He’d been circling for hours in the dark and all he’d found were cow tracks and mud, the drawing looked like a gray house. Now that it was morning he might be able to see a little better.
He pulled the map back out and squinted at it. “Left at the… lump? Or is that supposed to be a tree? Fantastic cartography, ten out of ten.”
“Hey, adventurer!”
The voice cracked high with excitement. Leon looked up. A boy, maybe twelve, came running down the dirt path from a nearby farmhouse. Dust clung to his tunic and his bare feet slapped against the ground. He skidded to a stop a few paces away, panting but grinning ear to ear.
“I knew it!” the boy said. “I saw you at the guild hall this morning. You’re new, right? Everyone is talking about the guy with the red coat.”
Leon froze. He’d been hoping the stares at the guild would fade by now. He tugged at his collar. “Uh. Yeah. That’s me. Leon Stevens, adventurer.”
The boy’s grin widened. “Thought so! Nobody around here wears stuff like that unless they’re with the guild.” He pointed at the badge clipped to Leon’s belt. “And you are. So, you’ll help, right?”
Leon blinked. “Help with… what exactly?”
“Our farm.” The boy’s excitement wavered into worry. “At night, there’s noises. Scratching, clattering. Dad says it’s rats, but rats don’t make the dog bark like that. And last week, one of our goats went missing. Just gone. No blood, no tracks. Mom said we should tell the guild, but Dad said we don’t have the coin for contracts.”
The boy’s eyes shone with a mix of fear and hope. “But you’re here now. You don’t need coin, right? You’re an adventurer. You help people.”
Leon opened his mouth, then shut it again. Cassandra had been very clear: find the orb. Nothing about farm chores. Nothing about goats. But blowing the kid off right after registering at the guild? That sounded like a great way to look suspicious.
He cleared his throat. “Okay, slow down. These noises—where are they coming from?”
“Old stone shed past the fields.” The boy pointed toward the line of hills, maybe that’s what Cassandra had circled on her map. “It’s half-collapsed. Nobody goes there since the roof fell in. But that’s where the dog barks most.”
Leon followed the kid’s finger. His stomach sank. That was exactly where Cassandra’s dungeon was supposed to be.
Of course.
He forced a smile. “So let me get this straight. Weird noises. Missing goat. And all this happens next to an abandoned stone building?”
The boy nodded quickly. “That’s it! Will you come look? Please? Dad says I’m making it up, but I know I’m not. I saw shadows moving.”
Leon sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could practically hear Cassandra’s voice in the back of his head: Focus. Retrieve the orb. Do not waste time.
But saying no here would draw questions. And if this “shed” really was on top of the dungeon, maybe the kid’s story wasn’t just childish imagination.
Leon rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Alright, kid. Show me where this creepy shed is. But if something eats me, I’m haunting you.”
The boy blinked. “You can do that?”
“Sure,” Leon said dryly. “Add it to my list of services.”
The boy grinned and took off running down the path. Leon sighed, adjusted his pack, and followed
The boy didn’t walk—he sprinted. His legs pumped like he was racing to show off a prize, not leading a stranger into the hills. Leon kept pace at a slower, steadier stride, his armor clinking with every step.
“You always run everywhere?” Leon called after him.
The boy slowed just enough to glance back. “If I don’t, my brothers get there first. Then I miss out.”
“Miss out on what?”
“Anything. Fun. Trouble. Chores. Doesn’t matter. Better to be first.” He grinned, then stopped short, waiting for Leon to catch up. “So what’s it like being guild? Do they really give you free food and a bed? And do you get paid every time you swing a sword?”
Leon gave him a look. “Do I look like someone who gets free food? The bed situation wasn’t exactly glamorous either.”
“Oh.” The boy frowned, then brightened. “But you do fight monsters, right?”
Leon hesitated. Technically, yes. One skeleton so far, and it had almost killed him. But Cassandra wasn’t exactly handing out certificates for that one. “Something like that.”
The boy’s eyes went wide. “That’s amazing.”
Leon bit back a sigh. He didn’t have the heart to crush the kid’s excitement, and if Cassandra’s orb really was down here, there probably would be monsters. Just not the kind Leon wanted to brag about.
They followed the dirt path until it thinned into wild grass. The village behind them shrank to a cluster of roofs. Ahead, the hills rose in uneven mounds, scattered with brush and half-dead trees. Somewhere beyond them was Cassandra’s dungeon, though to the boy it was just a creepy ruin.
Leon slowed and flexed his gloved hand. The kid’s chatter had distracted him, but he still needed to test more of his abilities. Better to screw up now than when something with claws came charging.
“Hold up,” Leon said, raising a hand. “Stay back a sec.”
The boy stopped, blinking. “Why?”
Leon drew in a breath, focused, and snapped his left hand forward. A flicker of flame burst out, arcing into the grass with a loud pop. The boy yelped and jumped back.
“Relax,” Leon said quickly, stomping out the smoking patch. “Just a spell. Practice.”
The boy’s jaw dropped. “You can do magic?”
Leon frowned. “What did you think a Red Mage does? Sew clothes?”
The boy shook his head, awe plastered across his face. “I’ve seen fire from torches and lamps, but rarely from someone's hand!”
“Yeah, and if I don’t practice, I’ll also make accidents.”
“Have you hurt yourself doing magic?” The boy asked.
“Yeah, well,” Leon muttered, brushing leaves out of his hair, “first lesson: magic’s dangerous. Sometimes to the caster.”
The boy was still giggling as they continued walking. Leon’s embarrassment stung.
As the hills grew closer, the boy’s laughter faded. He pointed ahead. “It’s just past there. The shed.”
Leon followed his gaze. Half-hidden behind a rise was a collapsed stone building, weeds spilling over its cracked walls. The roof was long gone, and shadows pooled in the open frame. The sight made Leon’s stomach tighten.
This was it. Exactly where Cassandra’s map had led.
The shed looked worse up close. Its stone walls sagged inward, moss spreading across every crack. Weeds sprouted through what had once been the floor, now half-dirt, half rubble. A few beams from the roof jutted out like broken ribs.
The boy stopped at the edge and hugged his arms tight. “See? Creepy.”
Leon peered into the shadows. His coat dragged against the grass as he stepped inside. “I’ve seen creepier.”
The boy didn’t follow. “You really think something’s in there?”
Leon gave the place a once-over. Just rocks, weeds, and a smell of damp earth. But Cassandra’s map hadn’t been wrong yet. “If there’s not, I’ll buy you a goat.”
The boy tilted his head. “Seriously?”
“No.” Leon crouched, brushing dirt off a half-buried stone tile. Symbols cut into its surface caught the light, faint but deliberate. He ran his fingers over the grooves. Definitely not farm construction.
He stood and checked the other corners. More of the same, markings worn almost smooth, half hidden under vines. “Yeah, this isn’t just a shed. Whoever built it was hiding something.”
The boy finally crept inside, eyes wide. “Like treasure?”
“Or a monster pit. Could go either way.” Leon tugged at one of the fallen beams, clearing more of the floor. Beneath it, another tile glimmered faintly. The same symbol repeated: a circle, split down the middle, lined with runes.
The boy crouched beside him. “What’s it mean?”
“No idea. I flunked ancient graffiti class.”
He stood, brushing dirt from his gloves. The runes looked dead, but Cassandra had warned him about cloaking artifacts. Maybe they weren’t dead—just waiting.
He flexed his left hand. The glove hummed faintly, as if in answer.
“Alright, let’s try this.” Leon knelt again, pressing his gloved hand against the central tile. The runes flared instantly, light racing across the cracks like spilled fire. The boy yelped and scrambled back.
The ground shook. Dust rained from the sagging walls. The tiles shifted, grinding against each other, then slid apart to reveal a staircase spiraling down into darkness. Stale air gusted upward, carrying a faint metallic tang.
Leon froze, heart hammering. Cassandra had said nothing about the how to find the door, then again, maybe she hadn’t needed to, he was the key.
The boy stared, mouth open. “You—You opened it.”
Leon swallowed hard. “Yeah. Lucky guess.”
Below, the staircase waited, darkness swallowing the last of the sunlight.
The boy edged toward the opening, then stopped. “Dad’s gonna kill me if I go down there.”
“Smart kid.” Leon adjusted his coat, staring into the black. “Stay up here. If I don’t come back, tell people it was rats. Big ones.”
The boy frowned. “You’re really going in?”
Leon rested his hand on his sword. Cassandra’s leash tugged at the back of his mind. There wasn’t a choice.
He took one step onto the first stair. The air grew colder. The light from above barely reached.
“Yeah,” Leon said quietly, more to himself than the boy. “Guess I am.”
The stone door rumbled again, sliding further open, as if urging him downward.