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The infinity dungeon 116
🕑 Added 2024-11-12 23:22:22 +0000 UTCChapter 116
It took a while for Johanne to compose herself. Afterward, she sat by the kitchen table. They were in Michael’s tree house, and the seat was just a wooden stump that looked like it had been grown from the tree itself, as was most of the wood that made up the furniture of the house. Yet, it was surprisingly comfortable.
“What I told at the beginning was true, my lord,” she began, her voice barely a whisper. “I had no memories of my life before being trapped in the amber. It was barely an annoyance at first, worthy of an afterthought perhaps, but nothing more. However, as time passed, a desire to know grew in my mind.”
She took a sip of Fae tea, feeling the warmth spread through her. Even though the Misty Valley did not have seasons, and the forest was forever locked in perpetual spring, the house felt cold as the wind howled softly yet persistently through the windows. Its door, through which wind freely passed to cool the house and bring a fresh breeze, now seemed all too flimsy. Not sturdy enough to hide her weakness from the world.
“This desire became an obsession. Of course, my lord, you know very well that I am a woman of many obsessions. It was easy for me to drown this specific one with others: research, innovation, exploration of the new world you have graciously allowed me to come to know, pleasing you…”
Michael grimaced, but she continued.
“In retrospect, I understand now that certain thoughts that had begun to spread through my mind weren’t healthy at all. Back then, I didn't think such things. I developed magic to peer beyond the veil of reality in what limited fashion I could without crippling my mind by looking upon truths I am unequipped to handle. I used this magic to find a weakness in the dungeon itself. I returned to the place where I had been held, for it was still there even after I was rescued—hidden but not gone. Forgive me, my lord, I should have never—”
“As I said, Johanne, none of that. Why do you claim it was unhealthy? Why do you think such thoughts were bad? Even had they been an actual obsession, one that hinders you and not just nightmares that keep you awake at night—”
This time, it was she who stopped him. “I do not sleep, my lord. I use magic to keep myself awake and rested.”
“Point made,” Michael conceded. “But even then, I could hardly blame you for looking into your own past. It’s a perfectly natural reaction.”
“You may say so, my lord,” she replied, “but to me, it doesn’t feel natural at all. I am not a creature of emotion, yet whenever I think about this matter all I feel is urgency and… fear, I think. Anxiety is there too, along with a whole list of emotions I have written down. I had never felt them before, but I looked up the symptoms on the internet, and they match what I was feeling.”
“Perhaps this means you are healing,” Michael suggested.
“If this is healing,” Johanne declared, “then I do not want it.”
“What happened afterward? You went into the chamber, then?” Michael inquired.
Johanne took a deep breath. Her fingers were shaking, although minutely, but compared to her usual poise and grace, her discomfort was all too clear to see. While she usually moved like a dancer, or stood still like a statue, she now moved like an automaton with glitchy hardware.
“I peered into the past. I wished to see what happened to me that led to my imprisonment. You see, my lord, I have no specific memories of the time before my imprisonment, but some things feel natural to my being. Even as I was dragged in chains to that room, I did not show any emotion, lending credibility to what I claim is natural and what isn’t about my mind. Looking at it now, it feels like the current me is but a defenseless prey running away from countless hounds: fear, anger, remorse, doubt.”
“I—”
“No,” Johanne interrupted. “Let me finish, please, my lord. You are a beacon I cling to, and now I need you to listen, even though I have been the cause of so many of your problems. Through my spell, I looked into the past. When I looked at the old me, I saw nothing on her face, but I knew her thoughts. There was no rational way to escape, and that was why I had allowed myself to be dragged to captivity. It should have been clear what I had to do then, for the sort of power that can elicit such a reaction in me can only be overwhelming. Despite this, I wanted to see the face of my captor. Of the man who managed to drag me all the way to that chamber in chains. I couldn’t even see him, my lord.” Tears streaked down Johanne’s face, but she kept talking as if she didn’t even notice them. “His power, my lord… it crossed through the Window, through my magic spell, and reached me. Nothing crosses through such a spell, my lord; it is merely a way to see faint echoes of the past. Yet, his power did. No, more than that. He looked at me.”
In the silence that followed, Michael simply nodded. “Everything is going to be alright,” he reassured her softly. He squeezed her shoulder, then walked to the window overlooking much of the forest and the valley below. “I’m going to fix everything.”
“What about the rest, my lord?” she asked, looking at him with wide eyes like a puppy.
“What else is there to talk about?” he questioned.
“Do you not find me… strange?” she wondered. “Do you not resent me for taking on so many projects? For stealing the spotlight away from you. For bossing people around. For being a bad influence on your sister?”
Michael frowned. “Who told you all that?”
“Why are you assuming someone told me anything?” Johanne asked defensively.
“Because you don’t think like that, Johanne. I know you.”
“You do?” Her eyes lit up.
“I may have been denser than average at the beginning,” Michael admitted, “but my mental stats don’t lie. Plus, I have been training them.” He did not mention the fact that the Truth facet of [Unity] was slowly making him into a living lie detector the more he practiced.
“I see…” she murmured. “Being seen… is so very warm. I thank you.”
“Where did you hear all that nonsense, then?” Michael pressed.
“I heard it,” Johanne whispered. “Whispers when people think I can’t hear them. But I can, much like I know you can hear most everyone on Site 00 no matter where you are, at all times. It is deafening. I had thought I could tune it out, but some things slip through no matter what I do to keep them out.”
“I will deal with it, don’t worry,” Michael promised. “All those things,” he added, shaking his head. This time, he went to sit beside her, dragging a stump-seat and putting it close to hers. After he was done, the wood merged with the floor. “They are all false. I see you, Johanne. And I wouldn’t want to change anything about you, for you are perfect as you are.”
They hugged for a long time. Johanne cried in silence, the only proof being the wetness in Michael’s shirt, which he didn’t dare dry with his aura. When he left, a long time later, he was already thinking of ways to make it clear to everyone that he approved of her not as a tool, but as a friend and an indispensable part of his team.
He was also worried. The fact that his words could sway her mood so thoroughly—a mood which had been soured because she thought his perception of her had changed in the first place—was a dangerous thing. It was clear that, besides him, Johanne had no attachments in this world.
Some people, even people close to him, would enjoy being in this position. Having a completely loyal servant was a powerful thing. But Michael wasn’t like them. He had changed ever since he first set foot into the dungeon, but his principles remained. In fact, now that he had personal power, his principles were even more important than before. No longer could he use his lack of power as an excuse to justify a certain kind of behavior or attitude towards the world and others. No, now that he had power, whatever he did was a reflection of who he was as a person.
Power such as his can corrupt, but most of all, it reveals who you truly are deep inside. And the person you are inside is not fixed but is something built day after day, shaped by choices and attitudes. Johanne was not an asset to be used; she was a person to be loved and valued as a human being first and foremost.
“I am proud of you.”
Michael had met with Old Dave soon after leaving the dungeon and had told him about the events of the day. Hearing his mentor approve of him brought a smile to his face.
A smile that froze solid mere moments later.
“Yet I cannot help but worry. You are arrogant in thinking you can force equality on the world, even the amended version you propose, Mike,” Old Dave cautioned. “Not all men are born equal. This much was true before, and it’s all the more evident now that magic is real. You should do well to keep it in mind. That people have intrinsic value by virtue of being human is a noble thing to say, but you know you will have to fight tooth and nail to defend such a position once the differences between people become much more evident.” He said, “please, pour one for me too. Hmm—this is good. Travis got this for you?”
Michael nodded.
Old Dave did not give Michael a chance to rebuke his earlier statement. He finished the drink and got up, drawing himself to his full height of almost seven feet. Michael was a tall man himself, but Old Dave easily towered over him. It had never bothered Michael much: in his old age, Old Dave had been tall yet dangerously thin, his muscle mass reduced by the passage of time to the point where his height was more of a handicap than an asset.
Now, Old Dave seemed wide as a mountain, present, tall, and proud. His face was set in a stern, hard expression. It was just an illusion, one Michael could easily see through, behind which lay the harsh truth that Old Dave was… old. Yet, the illusion was powerful, alluring, and there was no denying that Old Dave had found renewed strength as of late.
“I know that look on your face. Don’t be disappointed. I am no Travis Tyrell, Michael, but I am no fool either. You should do well to remember that until you make utopia a reality, the world you live in can be harsh and cruel. Don’t get stuck in your own head, mixing what you wish to be true with what is. It pains me to say it, but it’s true.”
“You changed,” Michael observed.
“I did,” Old Dave confirmed. “I am tired of waiting. Waiting for something to change outside of myself. For someone to help me while I do nothing. For the miracle cure to be developed. I had told myself I would wait until Dr. Kavins was done concocting his anti-aging serum, but that was the thinking of a loser. Of an old, defeated man with no fight left in him. Well, lad, that ain’t me. At the same time, I know my limits, and I am not so arrogant as to be above asking you for help. It’s hard, but again, I am no Travis Tyrell.”
“He did ask for help, though,” Michael pointed out.
“Did he?” Old Dave countered. “Or did he make you offer him help?”
Michael thought about it. It had been him who told Travis that he needed to reach Silver rank before meeting with the OA. To which Travis had replied: “I have some pride, you know? I admit that the dungeon’s been having an effect on me, but I am no pussy. Let’s go.”
Michael sighed. “We’ll never see him ask.”
Old Dave laughed. “I won’t. You, on the other hand, will. And quite shamelessly at that. You see, there is one thing bigger than Travis’ arrogance: his greed.”
“What about you?” Michael asked.
“Me?” Old Dave chuckled. “I just want to get rid of this decaying body, you asshat. Get back into the thick of it, where I belong. Old age might have mellowed me out, but this ain’t who I really am. This is where I am different than Travis. I know who I am, even though I had forsaken my own identity for so long. And I know who I can call my friend. I’m not scared to ask a friend for help. Will you help me reach Silver-rank, Michael?”
