Time to get bloodied.

That’s what they told us at least. It was honestly not as bad as I thought it would be. Then again, I did expect them to sacrifice us to some unholy god or something, so the fact that us Newbies would be getting our first glance at real combat was a load off my back. Really, it was bad in its own sense, but I chose to focus on the good.

We had been groups earlier; myself and three others were organized by a man who supposedly came from the negative 2nd floor. Honestly, as weirded out by the fact that there was a negative floor, I was glad we weren’t sent to our deaths without someone competent to bring me back. Or at least bring my body back.

Everything had gone without a hitch, really. We had gathered up well, the people in my group were all part of the excited group and our watcher seemed like he knew what he was doing.

Internally, though, I was panicking. I had expected something horrible to happen; that some tragedy or attack would suddenly commence and we’d be forced to fend for ourselves. It was a bit of pessimism that was talking, but when you’re transported to another world, you tend to pander to seemingly impossible thoughts.

Of course, this panic also began to waver as we finally reached the entrance to the Dungeon. It was just as creepy and dark as I imagined it would be. A half-oval cutout of the wall with stalagmites and stalactites lining the edges like the teeth of some massive beast.

The throat of the Dungeon was as anticlimactic as I had hoped. A long tunnel of dark stone with only patches of grass to liven the atmosphere. On the walls and ceiling of the cave were glowing, blue buds that were taken from the vines in the Room of Beginnings to lighten the place.

Our watcher suddenly moved to the wall of the Room of Beginnings besides the entrance, his hand deftly ripping off a couple of buds from the vines that hung closeby. We watched in silence as he came back and presented the glowing bud to us.

“Take them,” he said simply. “Plenty of races have poor darkvision, so they took to gathering the seeds from the vines to pave the path.”

We took the seeds he had given us, and contemplated whether or not it would be a good idea to gather more seeds to form a torch or something similar. I didn’t know how far we had spread the supposed magic, glowing seeds, but being ready wouldn’t hurt.

Seemingly seeing my dilemma, the watcher gestured to the Dungeon’s walls. “These seeds can last for hundreds of years; nearly all mapped out sections of the first floor are illuminated. There are especially many in the sections that Newbies frequent.”

“Then why’d you give us some?” One of the other group members asked.

“Tradition.” he said, turning to the Dungeon as we hurried to follow. “Put them anywhere you want.”

I saw two of the group smile at the now useless seeds in our hands. They quickly threw theirs in a random direction at the mouth of the Dungeon, but I shoved as many as I could fit into my pocket.

The next couple minutes were spent listening to the idle chatter of my group mates as I tried to find a way for my leather armor to stop chafing my skin. They had given all of us simply leather armor, and while it was nice, I still couldn’t get used to the fact that it rubbed me in all the wrong places.

There was also trying to find a comfortable position for my weapon as we walked through the uneven pathway that was the Dungeon. It had been worn down slowly by the sheer amount of traffic it had seen, but there were still pockets and bumps that I kept having to look out for. Certainly, it didn’t help that I had to make sure the spear I had been given didn’t drag along the floor or get caught on anything.

Not that there was much for it to get caught on. I had thought it weird that there were so many massive and odd weapons in the town, but with the ceiling being tens of feet overhead at the lowest points, there was quite a bit of leeway for massive weapons. Even if they were, in my opinion, simply absurd to even consider swinging around.

“Hey,” I turned to the person poking me. A smile in the form of one of the more talkative members of our group met my glance. “Glen, right? Don’t know if I introduced myself yet, but I’m Marcus. Nice to meet you.”

I held back from saying that he had, in fact, introduced himself multiple times already. “Likewise. Can I-” I paused to stare at the other group members chatting each other up. One of the guys had apparently been Marcus’ friend while the other was some girl that had joined us.

I realized some of the situation with an internal groan. Why they decided that a cavern full of monsters was the best place to flirt, I had no idea. It was pretty, at least.

“Sorry about this, man.” Marcus looked genuinely apologetic, sparing a helpless shrug at me noticing his friend. “He’s always been a weird dude, so not many girls take notice of him.”

I sighed, not really wanting more of this conversation. It helped to ease the unknown tension, but this was clearly not the place. “It’s fine. I’m not really the best, either.”

Marcus chuckled a bit, grinning. “Yeah, yeah, I get you.”

“What?”

“Well, I mean, we always saw you chatting up some of the veterans who’ve been here for awhile.” Marcus grinned as if there was a joke. “Most of them were girls, too, so it’s kinda ironic to say ‘I’m really not the best’.”

I sighed, completely losing interest in the conversation now, but not having the heart to tell Marcus to beat it. “It’s really not as great as you’re thinking. I just talked to them.”

“Okay, gotcha,” Marcus winked, and I felt less sure about the situation by the second. “So anyways,” he started back up again. “You got any tips or tricks for us? I talked to this one demon, and he said that there were places we can get skills and traits in the Dungeon, so I’m pretty excited to get out there.”

“No, I didn’t really hear anything too important.” I lied, remembering how Sabrina said that those of the demon race were rather malicious in the sense that they lied almost every time they talked. If it weren’t for the fact that they still were dependable in most circumstances, and lies being the only thing they did maliciously, everyone would have a bone to pick with them.

“Shame, I thought you’d have a bunch of info that we never got…”

I frowned at his assumption. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, I mean,” Marcus shrugged his shoulders, looking around like he was embarrassed at what he said. “You’ve always been the first person to start doing everything. A lot of us look up to you, you know. It’s like you always know what to do, and are always doing something important.”

I nearly laughed in his face. The thought that I ‘always knew what to do’ was so ridiculous I might have done a spit take. There was no choice or option given to us, so it meant that all there was left to do was accept the situation and listen to those in power. It was almost comical how my actions had been construed the way they did.

“-one are you?”

Blinking, I realized Marcus was still asking me a question even after I had zoned out to think over what he had said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“I asked, which one are you?” Marcus laughed with an easy smile. “Like, we all are kinda in two groups. There’s the people who are excited, you know; this place is almost like a fantasy come true. Then the others are cautious about the situation, kinda depressing when they start talking, too. A couple of us are curious which one you are.”

“Neither,” I answered without a second thought, staring at our watcher as he scouted out in front of us. “I just... think that if I keep going forward, there will be something good that will happen.”

“Huh, that’s pretty inspirational.”

For some reason, that answer felt like it didn’t fit what I was thinking. However, I wasn’t given the option of figuring out what I was feeling at the moment. The watcher of ours shushed us, and we all grew quiet. I was slightly assured when I saw the two flirting suddenly grow silent as well.

Our watcher was another stereotypical elf, and had been dressed in what looked like armor made of black scales. He had been wearing a dark, hooded cloak with blue highlights so that he would blend into the background if I wasn’t paying close attention. The only thing that was showing were his pale face and almost glowing, green eyes.

We saw him creep to the nearest bend in the Dungeon’s tunnel. I had almost missed it, but that was fine since I wasn’t the one navigating us through the Dungeon. It was almost funny as I saw a sign that pointed both the way we came and forwards, labeled on it were the words ‘entrance’ and ‘Newbie area 7’ respectively. Honestly, I felt that they spent quite a bit of time setting up these signs as it was carved directly out of the Dungeon’s wall.

I pressed myself close to the wall, almost hugging it as I crept up a little ways away from the elf in front of us. Despite my attempts to be careful, I still heard too much crunch from the coarse gravel underfoot. Behind me, I heard several of my group mates shuffling to my position, mimicking what I was doing.

The elf, paused to glance at us, and I caught the barest hints of a smile before it was gone. He then pulled back his hood a bit to allow a long, pointy ear to poke out. It twitched for a couple seconds before he silently walked back to us.

“Seven Featherkin, new burrow.” He looked at the four of us for a second before he nodded. “Get ready in ten seconds. I will only help if I see any of you in mortal danger.”

Electricity shot through my spine in that instant. Suddenly, I was much more aware of the sweat gathering under my armor as I pictured it failing to match an opponent’s blow. My feet felt like weights dragging against the uneven floor, and my grip on my spear was so tight that I was beginning to also worry about splinters. I was so out of it that I nearly jumped as a hand patted me on my shoulder, but regained enough of my paltry courage to face Marcus grinning at me.

“Ready?” He whispered, barely containing the adrenaline clearly rushed through his system.

“Yeah,” I lied, feeling my stomach doing all sorts of acrobatics at the moment.

Then, before I even knew it, we were charging around the corner at the behest of our elven watcher. We were surprisingly silent for our approach; our feet pounded hard on the stone below, and I barely heard the crunch of gravel above my own hammering heart.

I felt the bodies of Marcus and the others jostle against me for a second. They pushed and shoved lightly as if they just couldn’t wait for the fight to the death to happen. In the midst of it, I found myself pushed to the front of the group, my spear jostling in my unsteady arms as I finally got a look at the Featherkin I had heard of.

Our trainer had only used derogatory terms to address the creatures, always saying how weak and scrawny they were. I had taken his information with all the caution I could feasibly have, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that his insults were really close to the actual creature.

The Featherkin we had run into were crouched in a small hole in the wall, crawling inside it like insects as their claws dug into the walls in their makeshift hovel. They were humanoid in appearance; four incredibly thin-looking limbs lined their frail bodies. However, that was where the resemblance ended.

Their skulls were avain, elongated and had a sharp beak. Feathers that once could have been beautiful were now matted with dirt and dust as they grew out of the back of their skulls and forearms like hair. At the end of each limb were bird-like claws that scraped and dug into the Dungeon walls, allowing them to scale the tunnel like ants.

Almost instantly, we were met with opposition of the Featherkin skittering out of their burrow. They screeched at us with cries that sounded too much like a bird mixed with the grating of nails on a chalkboard. I only counted six that crawled out before my eyes quickly shot towards the ceiling to find the Featherkin crawling along with long, spindly arms, and found it just in time to see it drop down on our position.

“Scatter!” Someone yelled, probably panicking like me.

The flightless avian landed with a heavier impact than I expected, casting up loose dust into the air. It served itself as a fairly effective smokescreen as I barely had time to bring up my spear to block a frenzied series of slashes that came from the Featherkin that tried to ambush us.

Hurriedly, I backpedaled, no longer caring about my footing for a second. Almost instantly, my heel fell into a small divot on the floor and I tumbled backwards. As my back met the ground, air left my lungs for a second as a spike of pain shot through my chest, and I didn’t have time to complain as our trainer’s advice popped into the back of my mind: never stay still on the ground.

On instinct, I rolled to the side. My spear’s shaft dug painfully into my chest as dust kicked into my mouth and eyes. At the same time, I had also felt something pass by my armor, trails of displaced wind caressing my side at the near hit that had just happened.

Sweat rolled on my brow as my breath burned in my lungs. I turned back to my original position to find a Featherkin’s claw embedded into the stone, sending a cool wave of terror down my spine. It’s head jerked to look at me, and I stared into its beady, black eyes for a second too long.

My feet found the floor, and I felt vertigo from how fast I shot up to stand. Trembling hands caused my spearpoint to shake. Something washed over me as the Featherkin charged at me again, but it wasn’t any sudden jolt of courage.

Adrenaline had consumed me. My arms and legs were shaking, but I couldn’t feel them. They were as if I had left them inside an ice bath for a while before taking them out. I knew I didn’t make the choice to stab my spear forwards; it was instinct built on two months of repetition.

The stab was as perfect as I could make it. My stance, a charging enemy and the blade that entered its stomach, everything seemed almost scripted. I felt the jolt of my weapon piercing its flesh, and the scent of rust hit my nose the next second. It was rather relieving, yet I felt as if it wasn't me who had thrusted my spear.

Regaining the feeling in my arms the next second, I made to pull my spear out. I was still half in a daze as I tugged ineffectually, feeling it stuck on something. My eyes trailed down the length of my spear to see the Featherkin I had stabbed was holding onto my weapon, cawing out as if to ask for help.

Electrical fear spasmed down my higher processes as I saw another Featherkin charging at me suddenly. All thoughts on my spear were gone in that moment, and I let go before I turned and ran. This time I paid specific attention to the ground in order to not trip again.

I didn’t pause to turn back or look around, there was only my destination and life on my mind.

What felt like hours of running, but probably only a couple seconds, I found Marcus fighting a single Featherkin. He was doing a rather impressive job of dodging its flailing strike, but not much else.

My mind went blank as I felt something catch the back of my armor for a second, and the terrifying call screamed so close to my ears that I lost all my hearing momentarily. Tired arms and legs protested as I pumped them harder and harder.

Then, I collided with the back of Marcus’ opponent. Pain shot into my shoulder as I pistoned my legs and arms, and the Featherkin and I tumbled to the floor with a resounding thump. There was a call behind me somewhere as I forced my body to pin down the monster with all my strength.

“Thanks!” Marcus yelled.

To hell with your thanks! I nearly yelled, settling for a breathy grunt as the monster jerked underneath me. At this distance, I was forced to catch a glimpse at how putrid these creatures were. The smell reminded me of how corpses were filled with writhing maggots and puss-fill wounds, and I was forced to choke down the bile that was gathering at the back of my throat.

“Kill it!” I yelled, watching with watery eyes as Marcus charged at me. When he got near, I leaned back as he got into range for the kill, I heard the swish of air before I felt Marcus’ axe impact into Featherkin's head. Its body twitched uncontrollably, but it no longer jerked like it was about to escape.

The smell hit me, but I was just beginning to get used to it as I stood and turned to find the other Featherkin had finally caught up. My breath was coming out in harsh gasps as I struggled to stay on my feet.

Marcus readied his weapon next to me, and I was ready to pass out at any second. Shakes were still coursing through my body as I picked up the Featherkin we had just killed. My hands fumbled around to get a good grip on the monster’s bone-thin leg, and it took a second to gather the momentum to throw the creature with all the strength I had left.

I felt my butt hit the ground as I heard a satisfying squawk. Marcus rushed forwards at some unknown signal, and the last I heard was an echoing thud as his axe slammed into the distracted enemy. There was a tremor in my chest as I felt the impact through the floor.

Then, there were no more enemies. The fighting had stopped just as abruptly as it started, and I just stared out at the carnage before me. None on our side had died with the help of our watcher. However, there were injuries on the other two. Nothing serious, but it was there.

I was worried a bit, but for some reason, my mind was strangely blank. My eyes trailed into the air above me, wondering if the Dungeon would say something, anything.

It never did.

Everything was over, yet my hands wouldn’t stop trembling. The pounding in my ears was no longer the clangor of battle; it was my heart screaming in my chest and blood rushing in my veins. It was the wish that something would happen after all my troubles and energy.

Desperately, I wished for some change in my status. An ability or just an increase in something; anything that would stop my hands from trembling. That would stop my mind from telling me how many times I could have died just then.

Yet, there was no notification that anything had changed; only the damning silence that declared how people couldn’t change easily, no matter how they much wanted to.