The Human From a Dungeon

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Adventurer Level: N/A

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"This is boring," my friend complained.

"Most things are," I replied. "We've got nothing better to do though."

"Yeah, but I thought this road was supposed to be busy. There hasn't been anyone all day!"

"Your whining will do nothing to change that."

As the words left my mouth, the sound of hooves and wooden wheels in the distance filled my ears. They were still fairly far away, but my friend's face twisted into a smug expression. I sighed, straightened my Bolisir guard uniform, and sat in the place that I was supposed to be sitting. My friend leaned on the barricade, their feminine curves fighting desperately against the uniform. Their positioning was obviously intended to bring notice to the aforementioned curves.

"THAT doesn't mean anything. It's just a coincidence."

"Oh, please. You know better than that," they grinned.

"No I don't," I said sarcastically. "I don't know anything. I am empty of all forms of knowledge."

My friend giggled as the travelers came into view. Two carts pulled by two hnarses carrying quite the interesting bunch. A pair of orcs, a gnome, a dwarf, and... something else. Almost like an elf, but with an extremely murky aura. Power, danger, cunning, hunger, sorrow, ambition, and so many other things swirled around this creature.

Things were further complicated by the positive emissions, which were just as intense. Innocence, love, kindness, compassion, happiness, and so on. It's not exactly uncommon to feel all these things at once from someone, but the intensity was an entirely different matter. It spoke of a remarkable capacity for cruelty and heroism. A living contradiction.

I glanced over to my friend, who was just as terrified as I was by this... thing. It reminded me of the tales that were told to fresh-borne to keep them from running off on their own. Horrible monsters that wielded rough iron and could destroy anything, lurking in the darkest corners, waiting to pounce.

I desperately didn't want to interact with this thing, but there might not be another chance like this. We simply do not have any other choice. I shrugged off my abject terror, took a deep breath, and stood. I picked up my pencil and book, completing my act.

"What's this?" the gnome asked.

"Taxes were thin last fiscal year, so this is a toll road now," my friend said.

"To pass, I'll need to take your names," I added, gesturing with the open book. "We will then determine if you must pay the toll."

There was a long pause from the group that made my skin crawl. It's not good for us when they start to think about things. I took a long look at them, and noticed weapons and signs of fighting. Oh no, they might be adventurers. They're not about to attack us, are they? I gulped down my fear and stood firm.

The dwarf was whispering to the bald orc, and the bald orc was whispering back. I could hear what they were saying, but I couldn't understand it. They didn't want me to know what they were saying and because of this, I couldn't know what they were saying. Such is the nature of things.

The weird one said, "My name is..."

"How much is the toll?" The bald orc interrupted.

I looked at my friend, demonstrating my annoyance to them privately, and then turned back to the group.

"That depends. I'll need your name, please," I answered with an authoritative tone.

"And what, pray-tell, will you be doing with our names if we give them to you?" the bald one asked with a grin.

So the game begins. It's possible that he's figured it out, but we're well-versed with this particular battle of wits. They would have to be crazy to hurl accusations at guards, and that works out well because we're trying to avoid the crazy ones.

"I'll be writing it down and checking to see if it's already in my other book. If it is, then you'll pay a discounted toll or even no toll at all. If it's not, then we discuss how much the toll is," I answered, trying my best not to grin.

The rest of the group was looking at the bald one with confusion. The gnome looked back at me and some glint of clarification scrolled across otherwise his boring features. Damn it.

"May I see this other book that our names may already be in?" the bald one asked.

"For what purpose would you need to see the book other than to attempt to fraud us?" I countered. "I'll not entertain a scoundrel. Now give me your name."

"I am not a scoundrel, I am simply curious as to why a fae would be collecting taxes for the Kingdom of Bolisir."

Ah, so he knows that we're fae. Not necessarily a problem, as he may not yet have guessed our intentions. I heard a sigh come from my friend, and I held out a hand to calm them. The game isn't over yet.

"Why wouldn't a fae be collecting taxes?" I asked. "Have you never seen an employed fae before?"

"Can't say that I have, and you know how we mortals are. We're suspicious of things we haven't seen before," he grinned. "What use would you even have for currency?"

"To purchase goods and services, of course."

"Doesn't the forest provide everything your kind desires?"

"Obviously not, or we wouldn't be here."

"What sort of things do you buy?"

"I don't need to tell you that. All I need is your names," I stated coldly.

"Why don't you set our minds at ease by telling us your name first?" the bald one asked.

Slithering copulation! The orc was familiar with my kind, and knew how to play this game. It seemed like an innocent enough request, a name for a name, but he knew damned well what he was doing by asking for ours.

The bastard had even phrased it in such a way that it would be suspicious were I to decline. I didn't particularly feel like playing the fool and dancing around the subject, and a quick look at my friend told me that they didn't want to either. Very well, begging it is.

"Fair enough," I said. "We do not have names. We require them, which is why we're asking for yours."

"Ohhh," the weird one said, finally catching on.

"Why would you need OUR names, though?" the orc with braids asked. "Can't you name yourselves?"

"If we could, we would," my friend said. "We cannot, and as such beg your kindness."

Their feminine form was specifically designed to appeal to the mortal sense of lust in a situation like this. Mine was masculine and intended to have the same effect on those with the opposite preference. It's hard to say no to a sexy fae in uniform.

Unfortunately, this tactic was lost on the orcs. Their auras did not indicate nearly enough cruelty for them to be whiled by our physical distractions. The dwarf and the gnome, perhaps, but they were both being careful not to even look at us. That only left the... thing. I stifled a shudder at the thought.

"If we give you our names, then what will we be called?" the bald one asked, still grinning.

"I..." I said haltingly. It was a surprising question. "I don't know, actually."

"Probably whatever you want," my friend added. "That's how it works with you mortals, isn't it?"

"Not quite," the bald one said. "When you take our names, you take our identity and merge it with your own, leaving us without knowledge of who we are."

Silence fell among us. Fear riddled the auras of the other mortals. My friend and I shared confused glances. Why would they be afraid of not knowing who they are? Aren't mortals only afraid of death or serious injury?

"I don't understand. You say that like it's a bad thing," I ventured. "But that's how we live. I do not have a name, and therefore don't know who I am."

"Well, imagine for a moment that you did have a name. Imagine that you know who you are, your identity impacts the world around you, and you have many tales to tell to those who would listen. Would you willingly part with that?" the bald one asked sagely. "Do you feel it right to take that from someone else?"

"No, I wouldn't willingly part with it, but life is about taking from the things around you to further your own existence," I said. "You need energy to complete yourselves, so you take the lives of animals, and those animals take the lives of plants for the same purpose. We take your identities for our completion, to further our existence just as you do."

"What happens if you don't?" the weird one asked hesitantly.

"We perish," my friend said. "Our story ends as the season does if we do not have an identity to anchor us."

"They get reborn, though," the bald one explained. "Death is temporary to a fae."

"It's not exactly pleasant, though," I said. "The withering alone is likely much more painful than anything you've ever experienced."

"Also, our sense of self gets reset. Who we are fades to nothingness when we die, and we are someone different when we are reborn," my friend added.

"I thought you didn't have a sense of self," the weird one said.

"Of course we do. It's what drives us to gain an identity," I explained. "Without an identity, we lose our current sense of self to the void. Sure, we're born again come next season, but we will have different personalities, preferences, and no memory of who we were before. We end up becoming a completely different fae."

"Which explains why you would want our names," the bald one nodded slowly. "However, we need our names. There are those who depend upon us."

Even if we tried to force the issue, they're smart enough to know that they can remove any obstacles we put in their path. Should we let them continue on and just hope someone dumber comes along? Is there some way we can convince them? Perhaps a bribe, or a promise? No, I can feel their determination. This won't work, we will need to regroup and find another...

"Wait, all you need are names, right?" the weird one asked. "What if we named you?"

"Well..." I paused and looked at my friend, who shrugged. "Names have power. You would have to sacrifice a large amount of magic to name us, and we would have to be willing to accept the name..."

"For what reason would you not accept the name?" the bald one asked.

I looked at my friend again. Revealing this could prove dangerous, but they gestured for me to continue. They're right, of course. We're in too deep to hold back now. I sighed and straightened my borrowed uniform nervously.

"If you name us, you will be taking part in our creation and we will be forever in your debt. I realize that your kind uses this as a turn of phrase, but we mean it literally. We would be under your authority for as long as you are able to give us orders, and anything you order us to do we will HAVE to do," I explained. "So we are left with a conundrum. Which is better, slavery or death?"

"It would just be temporary," my friend giggled. "They're mortals, after all."

"What if I promise not to order you around?" the weird one asked. "You can make promises unbreakable, right?"

The innocence of that question took me off guard. I looked at the strange being as if seeing it for the first time. I had been avoiding looking directly at it because of the maelstrom that is its aura, but once I looked past that I realized that I was looking at a young boy. An odd young boy whose ears and teeth were wrong, but one who was genuine in its beliefs.

My heart melted somewhat as I realized that this innocent youth actually believed that kind of power was possible. It didn't melt enough to keep me from taking full advantage of this mistaken belief, though. I quickly thought of a bluff, and a way to make that bluff convincing.

"It would require a blood-pact, but yes," I lied.

"Okay," the thing said as it leapt from the cart. "How do we do that?"

As the weird one approached me, it suddenly occurred to me that mixing my blood with this thing might be a bad idea. Blood is an odd thing, and the mixing of it can lead to some strange happenings. It had been the first thing to leap to mind, though, and now I have to go with it because it would be suspicious. Unless I can think of something...

"It's simple," I said, trying desperately to think of something to get me out of this. "In your own words, express your promise and the consequences of not adhering to it. Then, if I agree to your promise, we cut our palms and clasp hands. Our blood will mingle, and the promise will become binding."

"And then I can name you, and we can be on our way," it said happily. "Got it."

It stood before me and we met each other's gaze as it thought of what to say. The dark blue of its glimmering eyes reminded me of the shiny stones that the fairies loved to steal from wandering merchants. Inside this deep blue was a hint of green which is reminiscent of the grove in which I'd been reborn. The eyes of mortals are such beautiful things, I can definitely see why the hags collect them.

"I hereby promise that I will not intentionally force a fae to perform any action against their will by enforcing their debt to me. May I die if I break this promise."

I went over the sentence in my mind to make sure it hadn't performed any trickery with its words. The promise wouldn't be binding, but I still had to call out any trickery to make sure it believed the performance. Using the word intentional made certain that if it accidentally enforced the debt it could simply apologize, and it made sure to clarify that enforcing the debt would be the breach of promise. So if it came to odds with a fae, it still had recourse.

The consequence was rather mundane, but it served the purpose of ensuring that it couldn't become our master. The thing would only be able to give one order. Clever. Unfortunately, I still hadn't thought of a way out of mingling our blood. But, I decided that I liked this weird little child. What's the worst that could happen if we mix blood?

I smiled and gave a nod of assent. Then, I hardened the nail of my left forefinger into a sharp edge and sliced my right palm deep enough for blood to flow. The weird one offered its hand, and I made a similar cut on the offered palm.

I held my hand up with my fingers spread apart as the weird one extended its hand forward. It looked at my hand and back to its own as I looked at its hand and back to my own. Our eyes met again and I raised my eyebrow, wondering what it was doing. Its lips disappeared as it made an awkward expression, and it finally clasped its hand with mine. I froze as our blood mingled and a shock ran through my form.

A life began to flash before my eyes.