Previous Chapters: (1), (2), (3)

Crispin encouraged Imrys to rest, and to take it easy all through the next day. The elder Courser had been right, though. Imrys felt the pull of the Dungeon, and the answers it might offer, like an invisible cord attached to his gut and urging him onward. His ‘restful’ day included a turn in the Orchards that were maintained jointly by most of the Sycamore Point residents. There was a sense of shared enterprise, rather than competition, among the Coursers who called Sycamore Point home. That wasn’t to say everyone got along, only that at the bare minimum most of the Coursers were friendly to one another. 

Imrys was slow to adjust to life as an Equine. Coursers did not refer to themselves simply as ‘horses’ which was deemed something of a slur, like calling humans hairless apes… something that struck a familiar bell in Imrys’ mind. While Coursers may have been descended of horses, they were so much more than just horses now. They had mastered living a lifestyle very similar to people of any sort, with a wide variety of clever alterations to everyday items. 

“At some point, I’d love to see your forge.” Imrys told Crispin, who had joined the younger Courser for midday meal after attending to his one duties in the morning. “I’ve seen iron and steel implements in the orchard, so I assume someone forges them. 

Imrys assumed correctly, and Crispin promised a detour to visit the local forge and speak to the forgemaster about possibly coming to work. Imrys wasn’t sure how he’d get by without the use of hands but he’d been a master smith once… knowledge made clear to him despite the agony of remembrance… and he assumed he’d be able to figure it out once he saw how things were done. 

“After we get you some better gear than that ratty knapsack, we can make our way under. The passages near here are well charted and cleared, but it would do you some good to get a taste of Dungeoneering while I’m available to guide you.” Crispin decided. That the elder Courser was being so kind was a major boon, given Imrys had no clue how to look for… well… clues. He thought it best to start back where he’d awoken, perhaps Crispin might know something about the chamber, or see something Imrys has missed. 

They visited the forge first, but the forgemaster wasn’t in, apparently having gone visiting, according to the neighbors. The went instead to one of the local shops that sold provisions for the Dungeon. There were, apparently, those merchants who resided within the Dungeon itself, but to reach them was a day’s travel or more. Crispin promised they’d be back to the village not long after nightfall. 

The provisioner was eager to swap some basic essentials, including a newer, better fitted knapsack in exchange for the ‘human artifacts’ Imrys had collected on his way out. At Crispin’s insistence, the provisioner promised them a full translation of what they all assumed was a journal, though the journal itself would now be the property of the provisioner or whomever they might trade it to. It was a good deal, of the sort to have one’s cake and eat it too. The journal by itself was useless to Imrys, who could make neither heads nor tails of the strange writing, but trading it away bought him a goodly number of supplies, and a few coins besides, which would go a long way toward getting him started. It was, it seemed, a rather valuable item. Crispin explained as they departed the shop that most Coursers collected human artifacts of one sort or another, and Imrys got the impression of almost religious devotion… or… Hoarding. The latter of which came with a sense of significance out of proportion to what he knew the word meant. He shook his head slightly at the headache that was once more creeping up behind his eyes. 

“No? Would you rather we make for the far entrance and work our way back?” Crispin had been talking, probably for some time, about their plans for the rest of the day. And Imrys winced, apologetically, realizing he’d been off in his own thoughts.

“No, sorry, was just thinking. I would like to start at the near entrance, because I want to get your opinion on the chamber where I woke.” Imrys replied. “But in the end, I trust your expertise in plotting our course. I really don’t know anything at all what I’m doing.” And that was, surely, the crux of the matter. He was so ignorant of this world and its workings. Nothing was familiar, and that could only mean whatever he’d been before, he’d come from somewhere else. Somewhere with humans and unicorns and other races he could only recall in the vaguest of ways. Creatures with horns and with wings, people with fur or scales or feathers in place of skin. It all jumbled around in his head like rocks in a tumbler, but he felt like it was his sense of self being whittled away. He already knew more about living as an Equine than he could ever have imagined, and with each passing hour, let alone day, it felt more and more like… this was his life now. That he was here, and this was the only place he’d ever be again. He may not remember who or what he’d been before, but he knew with rock solid certainty that this was not all there was, and to be so limited… felt claustrophobic. Like the world itself didn’t contain enough air. 

“Then we have our plan.” Crispin declared. “I’ll just go gather my things from my office and we can head under.” The white-grey Courser trotted off, leaving Imrys with his thoughts as he strolled the village at a casual pace towards the near entrance to the Dungeon. He hadn’t gotten far when Crispin rejoined him, having barely reached the edge of town. 

~~~

The Dungeon was much as Imrys remembered. Dimly lit by patches of glowing fungus or the beaded strands of the glowworm larvae that made their homes in the ceiling. Imrys didn’t have a good sense for direction without the sun or stars to guide him, but Crispin seemed to know his way around. He pieced together Imrys’ tale, along with a report from Logue, who’d documented their encounter when he’d returned. The dun had apparently turned aside rather than backtrack along Imrys’ path, but he’d notated where they’d met, and that made it easy for Crispin to find the way. 

Eventually, the halls became familiar, and they passed the room where Imrys had ducked the bats, but it was surprisingly empty. Crispin explained that most of the wildlife one encountered in the Dungeon was liable to move about, and that he wasn't the least bit surprised to find the bats gone. When they reached the long hall of stone blocks, Imrys felt a frisson of tension shiver through him, his coat twitching as if fleabitten. He found his pace quickening as the came in sight of the arch… only to find a dead end chamber of worked stone. 

“Wait… this… this is wrong!” Imrys declared, his tone desperate and furious. “This shouldn’t be here!” He stamped his hoof as he jogged the perimeter of the chamber, but no matter where he looked, the dressed stone didn’t change. 

“You said you didn’t quite recall the path out, perhaps we made a wrong turn?” Crispin suggested, but his tone was hesitant. There hadn’t been any turns in this portion of the Dungeon. From the chamber with the mushrooms where once there had been bats, it was a straight shot to this, a dead end. 

“I don’t understand.” Imrys said head and tail drooping with defeat. “I know this was the way, it was all familiar after the place where I ran into Logue. How could I have forgotten it? It was only yesterday!” He stamped a hoof again, and there was the faintest sound of shifting rock. A tiny trickle of dust spilled down the wall from next to one of the stones as it shifted slightly in place, revealing a fist-sized alcove in the otherwise tightly fitted stone. The dust had drawn Imrys’ gaze, but it was the faint glint of something metallic that held his attention. He moved to peer into the stone. 

Resting in the alcove was a silvery chain. With a great deal of careful effort, Imrys was able to wedge the tip of his nose into the opening and pull the item free of the stone. He laid it out on a raised block where he and Crispin could examine it. It was an amulet carved in the shape of a winged lizard… DRAGON!... the word whispered through his mind with a sound like thunder and clap of pain like being struck inside his skull. He moaned in pain, but memory flooded his consciousness. Dragon. He KNEW Dragons. He knew their shape and their lives. He knew their smell, and their favorite foods. He’d LIVED with Dragons. And what’s more… he knew this amulet, or one identical to it. “The Dragonstar. There were… there were five of them: Gold, Silver, Bronze, Copper, and Brass. One for each of the Flights. This one is the Silver.” He touched a trembling nose to the amulet, his body shaking like he’d taken a chill. “How, though? How did it get here?” Again his memory was blank. Why did he know this amulet? But the question brought pain and again, he was forced to let go of his grasping for memories. 

“I don’t know what magic is at work, here, Imrys, but this is obviously meant for you, this Dragonstar, as you call it. I’ve never been down this passage, and I’ve explored every step of the nearby tunnels. Whatever this is… whatever you are the Dungeon has brought you here for a reason. I suspect, had Logue tried, he’d have never found this place, or the chamber where you awoke. I can’t say why or how, but I believe it likely his decision not to follow in your footsteps was not made wholly of his own choosing.” Crispin stared at the amulet  then at Imrys. “We should leave this place. The answers you seek are clearly being concealed from you, and since pressing gives you these headaches…” Crispin flicked his tail in a shrug. “I feel we should leave.” 

Imrys didn’t like the implications of any of this, but he agreed with Crispin. The sense of a weight pressing down on him, driving him away was clear, and it was equally clear that the elder gray felt it too. “You’re right. I don’t know why, but we need to leave.” Crispin lifted the amulet carefully with his teeth. He’d been about to put it in his bag, but something held him back. Trusting this instinct, too, he lifted it and with a flick of his head, brought the chain over his own neck. It fitted there as if it had been made for his Equine throat, a seeming impossibility, but with so much else afoot it was almost unsurprising.

Crispin eyed the amulet again, now resting against Imrys’ collarbones, and then turned for the exit. They didn’t dally in their backtracking, but they didn’t run, either. That sense of impending doom was given a clear answer when a rumble behind them collapsed the worked stone passage almost as soon as they’d exited it. It made no sense that stone which had seemingly stood for hundreds or thousands of years might suddenly fall apart, but so much about this made no sense. Crispin stood looking back at the rockfall that now sealed the passage utterly

“In all my years exploring the Dungeon, I have never encountered anything like this.” He said finally, turning to gaze at Imrys. “There’s something about you, Imrys, some secret as yet untold. What it may be, I cannot guess, but you won’t find it out there.” He gestured with his chin toward the entrance. “Come back with me to the Guildhall. Sign your name, take the oath. You belong in the Dungeon, and the Dungeon is determined to have you, that much is clear.” Crispin’s voice held an odd note of awe, though Imrys knew it wasn’t for him, not directly. 

“I think you’re right.” Imrys agreed in a small voice. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, but I know that the only way I’m ever going to hope to find answers is if I go deeper.” He trembled at the thought. So much for his half-hearted hope to bide a quiet time blacksmithing for the Dungeoneers until answers were delivered to his doorstep. He might not recall all the adventurers he’d geared up and set out on their wild and dangerous and sometimes fantastical journeys in his past life, all while he’d stayed home, safe and comfortable. But he knew now, with a certainty, that those days for him were long past. He needed answers only the Dungeon could provide, no matter how dangerous, no matter how challenging. He might come to call Sycamore Point home, but his place was here… in the Dungeon.

~ Continue the tale in Ch 5 ~