Smiling, looking a Reyansh, then at me. “I would do business with you, Elf Friend.”

Somehow, I didn’t quite like the way he enunciated Elf Friend. Like he was conveying something more that was left unspoken. Let alone how he knew.

“Don’t look at me like I’m telling you something that you don’t know.” The Mage says. “There is an Ancient of Days standing here. Unless he has a claim on you, I’m not sure what else it could be.”

“If you are part of a Guild, you should start there.” He continues. “If not, I have an open quest that you have already proven yourself capable of completing. This is my construct. I offer one silver coin for every item that you return to me from the dais. When you return ten of the same items, the eleventh is yours to keep.”

Looking at Reyansh for some sort of feedback, I turn back to the Mage. “It seems simple enough. What is it that I’m not seeing or understanding?”

The Mage glancing at Reyansh then speaking more to the both of us. “Items created are through a glitch in the dungeon that I am exploiting. As such, the items created mimic the originals but are never the same as the original. As you might have heard,” Holding up one of the rings. “The ring is similar, but the material is from bone. The sword is also similar, but the quality is not as high and is somehow bound to the ring.”

After pausing a few moments. “And you probably will not be able to obtain the eleventh item more than once, if at all.” His voice drops a little, now sounding more like a confession. “There is a small window of opportunity in your progression that the dungeon may be exploited in this way. Where your perception is just high enough to trigger the illusion and the dungeon does not yet kill you. This is a progression dungeon after all. There will come a point in time where you will no longer see the illusions or it will become too dangerous for you to continue.”

Reaching into his robe, he hands me a flat palm-sized hexagon disk. “Give it some thought. If you are interested in any of the items or if you would like to make a few coins, let me know.”

“Items?” Puzzled I ask. “You're not mad about any of this?” Gesturing towards the exit with my hand.

He gives me a perplexed look. “Ah… I work as a merchant to fund my research. Being a Mage can be costly and I’ve learned to channel any hostilities more profitably. Getting a nice set of Dwarven doors makes me happy and I think the Church will be renovating a few of the floors above. Unless that obnoxious Paladin has learned to raise the dead, he’s going to be doing some serious penance for whoever they’re going to bring in to raise up those bodies. The Merchant Guild might also have to add a “temporary” tax in the area, to help cover the costs of the added security needed.” He’s not even looking at us anymore, just staring through us and rambling.

“I’ll make sure he understands the risks,” Reyansh interjects. “maybe he could work towards an item or two that he could use if you would be open to giving him credit for the runs that he has already made.” Reyansh turning, eyeing me to follow.

“Absolutely,” That broke him out of it and after we moved about three paces, he was gone.

Snapping something up and around us, a glimmer of sorts, I can see Reyansh’s facial features change as he lets some of his frustration through. “So much has changed in the last few hundred years. Life has always been precious to us. Now, with the magic so common, life has lost its value to them.”

As we approach the other elves they are absorbed into the glimmer. They part to let Reyansh between them as he leads us out. Following, I have to move at more than a brisk walk for the pace that Reyansh is setting for us.

Once outside, the pace increases to a mild run as we head away from the broken-down entrance and towards the trees. There are priests in familiar robes laying out the bodies of the fallen. It looks strange to me as we pass because the bodies are not being covered and two of the priests are healing the bodies back together. I guess it makes sense whether they are preparing the bodies for viewing at a wake or maybe even preparing them to be raised. I don’t have time to put much thought into it as I focus back on staying close and keeping pace with the elves as we run.

“When Ends Meet” The distortion appears before us as we run through.

Same as before, but not quite as bad, my insides twist and I feel queasy as I focus on the familiar sight of Community Farms, burning.

I hear a slight gasp to my side, I’m not sure if it was Lilly or Jenn.

I feel the elves rush past me, I see them splitting up into teams of three.

I start to run towards the main building, there is smoke. We returned near the bleachers where we had left, out by the archery field. Glancing at the archery field where one of the teams of elves headed, I see them standing by it as my pace slows. Looking at it. The tear. Where it was before.

Looking back at the main building, the smoke takes on a new meaning and urgency for me as I start to run again. Cresting the hill, I can see colors of things and laundry strewn across the property. I know they are bodies.

Not halfway there yet and the elves are already heading back in my direction. I slow as they pass. They seem to blur as they run, yet I see their eyes clearly and they are fierce.

I follow in pursuit, already lagging behind as they move single file through the tear.

My hand moves to touch the hilt of the copied swords at my hip. My right hand tightens in a fist as I feel for the ring that the sword is bonded to. Flexing the muscles in my arm, through to my fist, I feel for the added strength that the first ring gave, still there.

A quick scan of the ground as I near the tear for anything else I might use, there is nothing. I find myself wanting to have something in each hand as I step through.

As if a switch was flipped, it is suddenly a little more than half as bright. My head adjusts slightly to face where I hear the roar of a crowd, like that of a stadium in the distance.

Running, I notice the unevenness in my stride as I am forced to half-watch the trampled ground so that I do not falter. Bodies start to pass as I give a wide berth to things I do not recognize.

This one I know, ‘Heal’. He was one of the men in the town hall with Bart. ‘Heal’. I don’t know if I ever knew his name. ‘Heal’. I twist and pry the thin blade out of his hand, then step over his body and continue to run.

This is the direction that the children were taken before. Almost stumbling as I raise my arms to block a flash of light as I come near to the fighting.

I first pass by a couple of teams of elves, off to either side, standing near the tree line firing arrows. Another few car lengths and Bart is shouting commands with runners relaying back and forth to either side.

I am confused about what I should do as I slow my pace. The battle raging in front of me looks impossibly one-sided against us.

One of the runners is shouting in my face. A man much older than myself. Gripping my collar with one hand, my bicep with the other, he literally drags and half throws me in the direction I should go. “STAY OFF THE FRONT LINE! KILL IF IT’S SMALL. RUN IF IT’S BIG!”

Swinging at the head of a large dog with a rider whose attention is directed at someone else, my sword bites well into its skull. Thrusting at the rider with the thin blade as his mount falls forward, the blade reacts. CRACK… The snap of electricity sounds as it finds ground through the rider, the blade following, skewering the already dead rider.

I feel the weight of the atmosphere around me as I mostly try to back-peddle, dodge, and Kill whatever comes near. ‘HEAL!’. Whenever I feel a chunk of flesh clawed or bitten out of me. ‘HEAL!’ Every time I look up to see an ally fighting. ‘HEAL!!!’ Every time I feel something touch me because I don’t want to die.