TravelingDreamer
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B6—Chapter 1: Dungeons, Drugs, and Dubious Life Choices
🕑 Added 2025-03-16 16:14:04 +0000 UTCThe next set of Gates was relatively far. Unlike clusters where multiple Gates were close together, potentially leading to the same world, these were more or less aligned along the same latitude, stretching from one end of the continent to the other. There were seven Gates in total that we planned to check. After weighing our options, we decided to head northwest first. The Gates near the continent’s center were technically closer, but flying there first would mean turning westward and then doubling back. A direct northwest route made more sense. We would first reach the farthest Gate in the northwest, then continue east without backtracking.
For the first three days of the journey, nothing noteworthy happened. The wind located two dungeons, which they cleared and harvested the cores, while I stayed behind, puttering around the house. I used the time to restock our supply of prepared meals, reorganize the storage halls and store some camping equipment. The next time I had to spend a night out, I intended to be fully equipped.
The third dungeon the wind found was different. They went to clear it like usual, but less than half an hour later, Rue came bounding back, his massive paws kicking up dirt as he skidded to a stop in front of me. His ears were pinned back, and his tail flicked anxiously.
“John, come quick! Mahya and Al sick!” His telepathic voice was urgent, almost frantic.
He barely paused before turning and bolting back the way he came. I sprinted after him, my boots pounding against the ground. “What happened?”
“We go in dungeon,” he said, glancing back at me with wide, worried eyes. “Inside lots of pink ants. Pink ants make pink fog. Mahya and Al got sick. Rue get them out of dungeon.”
His muscles tensed as he pushed himself to run even faster, his heavy breaths coming in short bursts. If he was this panicked, things were bad.
In less than three minutes, we reached the dungeon. The portal of doom was embedded in a massive rock, similar to the rock anchors of the Gates. But my attention snapped to Al and Mahya, and their condition was not what I had expected.
Al was peeling off his clothes, his movements exaggerated and graceful, like he was performing a slow-motion strip show. Meanwhile, Mahya spun in circles with her arms outstretched, belting out "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" at full volume, her voice carrying through the clearing.
Al kicked off his boots, tossed his shirt over his shoulder, and before I could stop him, took off at a full sprint into the forest, completely naked.
"Follow him and protect him," I barked at Rue.
Rue gave a sharp nod and bolted after Al, his tail whipping through the air as he vanished between the trees.
I turned back just in time to catch Mahya before she spun herself into the dirt. Grabbing her shoulders, I steadied her. She swayed in place, giggling, her head tilting side to side like she was moving to music only she could hear. Her pupils were huge, swallowing almost all the blue in her eyes.
"You know," she slurred, poking my chest with far too much enthusiasm, "the purple in your hair really suits you! So fashionable. So stylish." Her head bobbed, and she tried to pat my hair, but missed my head. "If you hadn't glamorized your hair at Liliatas, the pushy girls would have gone even more crazy for you."
She patted—or attempted to pat—my shoulder, missed, stumbled, and nearly fell over. Instead of being concerned, she just threw her head back and cackled. Then, she launched into "I Kissed a Boy and I Liked It," swaying with dramatic flair.
Yeah. That settled it. She was completely stoned.
Mahya suddenly stopped mid-sway, blinking at me with her mouth hanging open. Then, without warning, she took off. One moment, she was swaying in place, the next, she was a blur streaking across the clearing. A gust of wind followed in her wake as she launched herself into the air, soaring at least twenty meters up before flipping mid-air and landing gracefully on a tree branch.
“Mahya, stop—”
She didn’t.
Instead, she unsheathed her sword with a flourish and pointed dramatically at a gnarled tree like it had just insulted her honor. “You dare challenge me?” she declared, swaying slightly. Then, as if responding to some unheard battle cry, she charged the tree, slicing at its branches with a flourish and yelling a battle cry.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. This was going to be a long day.
I quickly fired three Ranged Heal spells, but nothing happened. It had no effect whatsoever, just Mahya sprinting around like an overcaffeinated blur. That was fine. I still had Healing Touch.
I just had to catch her first.
Which, as it turned out, was easier said than done.
The first time I lunged, she ducked under my arms, flipped over a rock, and took off at an illegal speed. I tried again, diving forward, but she vaulted twenty meters into the air, did a mid-air twirl, and landed on a tree branch.
"Mahya, stop moving!" I shouted.
She just grinned down at me and leaped off the tree, soaring through the air like some kind of high-speed Disney princess. She landed, spun on her heel, and threw her arms out.
"I want to break freeeeee!" she sang at the top of her lungs before taking off again.
I groaned and this time flew after her.
The second time I caught her, I barely got my hands on her arm before she twisted out of my grip like an eel and somersaulted away, giggling.
I gritted my teeth and cast Neutralize Poison. Nothing.
Third time’s the charm, right?
I tackled her mid-run, locking my arms around her shoulders. “Gotcha!” I slammed a Healing Touch into her back, sure this would fix it—
Nothing.
"Mahya, hold still!"
She cackled, body slammed me, and took off again, this time breaking into "Run Boy Run" as she parkoured up a boulder and flung herself over a ravine.
I was desperate now.
I tried Neutralize Curse—nothing.
I tried holding onto her long enough to formulate a spell, but she was stronger than me. Every time I grabbed her, she shook me off in less than a second, which only encouraged her more.
After the fifth escape, she landed, arms wide, and belted out:
"FREEDOM!"
I groaned. This was hell. Literal hell.
She raced through the trees for the next few hours, leaping so high I worried she might actually take off into orbit. She fought tree after tree, each apparently an opponent in her epic saga. At one point, she switched to singing "I Will Survive", belting out the lyrics with an energy that would have made a concert crowd go wild.
Then, as if flipping through genres, she switched the song and the movie reference.
Leaping onto a tree branch, she struck a dramatic pose, pointing her sword at the nearest branch like it had wronged her. With all the gravitas of a vengeful swordswoman, she declared, “You killed my bush, prepare to die.”
Without missing a beat, she launched into a flurry of strikes, hacking at the branches. As leaves and twigs rained down around her, she spun on her heel and broke into song.
"Eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight!"
Each sword slash matched the beat, as if she were training for the ultimate underground tree-fighting tournament.
Then, just as I thought it couldn’t get any worse, Al came back.
Stumbling out of the treeline, still completely naked and with a raging hard-on, his hair wild and his skin streaked with dirt, he looked like some feral forest spirit that had discovered civilization for the first time. Rue trotted behind him, his ears back, teeth showing.
I barely had time to process this before Al threw his arms out and beamed at me. “John!” he called, his voice dripping with dramatic need. “I need a man!”
I blinked. “What?”
“I need a strong, rugged man to ravage me,” he whined, stepping closer, his expression heartbreakingly desperate. “A warrior, John. Someone with calloused hands and a deep voice. I need a man who can throw me down and—”
I held up a hand. “Stop. Right now.”
Rue, panting slightly, flopped onto the ground and dramatically rolled onto his back, staring at the sky. “Rue protected Al from flying snakes,” he reported, tail twitching. “Al tried to pet the snakes. Snakes did not like. Rue had to fight snakes while Al talked to his big snake.”
I did not want clarification on that last part.
Al groaned. “John, please. You have connections. Find me a man.”
I rubbed my temples. “Al, for the love of everything holy—put on some damn clothes.”
“Nooo,” he groaned, dragging a hand down his chest dramatically. “You don’t understand, John. My skin needs the air. I need freedom. I need passion.” He sighed longingly. “Maybe I’ll find a man in the forest.”
Before I could stop him, he turned to the nearest tree and pressed a palm against its rough bark, sighing deeply.
“Yes,” he murmured, running his fingers along the trunk. “You understand me. Strong. Silent. Sturdy. You would never betray me, would you?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Do you like it when I touch you like this?”
I stared at him. Rue let out a suffering groan. “Rue wish Rue were deaf.”
"Al, that is not a man. That is a tree," I deadpanned.
I marched over and yanked him away from the tree before this situation escalated. “You are not romancing a tree.”
“But he listens so well,” Al whined, gazing longingly at the bark as I dragged him back.
“Al, no—”
I barely got the words out before he collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest like I had stabbed him.
“Why, John?” he sobbed, his shoulders shaking. “Why won’t you help me? I’m lonely! Is it so much to ask for a rugged, strong-armed, mysterious stranger to sweep me off my feet and ravage me under the stars? Why must I suffer? Why must I roam this world alone?”
I stared down at him, expression blank.
“Al, get up.”
He sniffled dramatically. “No. I want to wallow in my despair.”
Rue covered his face with his paws. “Rue want to leave.”
“You and me both, buddy.”
I grabbed Al by the arm, hauling him back to his feet. He slumped against me with a sigh, murmuring something about firm hands and being carried away in the moonlight.
This was officially the worst day of my life.
He turned toward the forest again. “I will find the perfect man!”
"You are not going anywhere," I snapped, grabbing his arm before he could wander back into the trees on a horny spirit quest.
Meanwhile, Mahya had reached a new level of chaos. She jumped at a branch at least ten meters up and stared into space. Then, she flipped off the branch, landed perfectly, and immediately broke into "I'm Still Standing," doing a very exaggerated dance as she swung her sword at imaginary enemies.
Rue looked at me, then at them, then back at me. “Rue not think Rue can protect both.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” I muttered, still holding onto Al’s arm as he attempted to run into the forest, presumably to find his nonexistent forest man.
For the next half hour, Rue and I tried to keep both of them contained, which mostly involved me physically restraining Al from running off to seduce the wilderness while Rue circled Mahya, barking whenever she tried to launch herself into the air again. It was exhausting, ridiculous, and completely impossible.
Finally, just as I was ready to contemplate my life choices, Mahya slowed down mid-spin. Al stopped mid-whine. Both of them blinked, wobbled, and then—without a word—just fell asleep standing up.
I stared.
Rue stared.
I let out a slow breath. “Finally.”
I scooped up Mahya first, hoisting her over my shoulder while Rue nudged Al’s limp, naked form.
“Rue not carrying Al,” Rue muttered.
I sighed, shifted Mahya, and hoisted him on my other shoulder. He mumbled something about broad shoulders, but thankfully didn’t wake up.
By the time I got them inside and dumped them onto their beds, I was done. Rue flopped onto the floor with a grunt.
I checked on them one last time—Mahya sprawled out, still humming in her sleep, and Al stretched across the bed, mumbling something about firm thighs, and shook my head.
“Never again.”
Rue grumbled. “John says that, but John lies.”
I sighed. There was a good chance he was right.
Comments
Angela Roberts
Oh, the stories!!
Danielle Warvel
*cackles* This is what they get for being so dungeon happy. I just feel bad that poor John has to suffer the consequences. He’ll be able to look back on this and laugh someday. And silver lining, he now has something to hold over his friends heads that they’ll never live down! Score 1 for quality blackmail material!
