Dorrik stood perfectly still, their scales covered in swirling patterns of ceremonial white paint and their breath coming in short, even puffs. Sikka stood a couple paces away, her lower hands twisting and fretting together. Right by her side was Kaleek. At some point the desoph had found the chance to polish his armor. It was perplexing how well the big otter had cleaned up. Even his fur was slicked back until he looked like something vaguely approaching respectable.

Further to the right, Jaalin, Stekat, and Toorvu stood in a tight cluster alongside another lokkel that Kat didn’t recognize. The four of them didn’t whisper or talk at all, and Kat couldn’t blame them. They were barely ten paces from Stallok and Conru.

Even as Dorrik prepared for their coming of age ritual, most eyes were on the two senior lokkel as they chatted quietly and ate rock shrimp. They hadn’t bothered to interact with her after their initial meeting, and Kat couldn’t help but think of that as something of small mercy. It wasn’t even the physical discomfort of their conversation that concerned her. She barely knew anything about lokkel society. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally create a faux pas that would put Earth in Clan Ahn’s bad graces for the next century.

“Are you ready honey?” Sikka asked in a hushed whisper. “Remember, you can turn your back on this at any time. No matter what you do or don’t do, you’ll never be a failure to me.”

Dorrik closed their eyes, taking a deep breath. When they opened them again, their sight was clear and direct. They turned to Sikka, inclining their head slightly. Despite everything, their crest was calm and unruffled on the back of their neck.

“This is what I want,” Dorrik replied quietly. “I am proving myself to the clan, but more than that I am proving myself to me. Even if this were not the specific task put before me, I would find something similar.”

“I… I know,” she replied, a hitch in her voice. “I just can’t help but see you as a knee high bundle of trouble. The idea of you going in there on your own-”

“They’re an adult,” Kat said gently. “Dorrik has a more clinical approach than Kaleek or I, but they share the same desire to push themselves and grow. We have all struggled and bled to make it as far as we have. As momentous as today is, when the sun sets again tomorrow, all three of us are going to be back here pushing ourselves again.”

Sikka nodded, her throat bobbing as she swallowed whatever she was going to say in response.

“Thank you Miss Kat,” Dorrik said gratefully. “I understand Sikka’s concern, but I have made my preparations. Any concern I might have had has been burned away, and now all that remains is my desire to prove myself.”

“By the way,” she whispered, leaning close to Dorrik. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

The lokkel didn’t reply, instead closing their eyes and nodding slightly.

“I want you to carry my knife during the test,” Kat said, gaze straight ahead as she stared at the tower that held the staircase out of the floor.

Dorrik’s eyes popped open, but they didn’t turn to look at her.

“Why Miss Kat?” They asked quietly. “My avatar may die in the next hour or so and your knife is a treasured possession. Without it you could not fight properly and it would set your development in the dreamscape back months if not years. It could very easily be destroyed if I were to lose my balance or concentration at a critical moment.”

Kat’s tongue darted out, wetting her lips. She hadn’t even realized how dry they had grown in the last hour. Her hands opened and closed at her side, grasping nothing.

“Two reasons,” she replied. The distant chatter of the dignitaries washed over them, little more than background noise. “I want to help. I know I can’t be there fighting by your side, but Dorrik, but more than anything that’s where I wish I was. We both know that Kaleek feels the same way. If the rules say that I can’t be in there to cover your back, at least you can have my knife with you during the fight. It might not mean much in the grand scheme of things, but to me it’s a symbol. That I am by your side and fighting with you, in spirit if not in reality.”

“As for the second.” She paused a second, letting a half smile slip across her face. “I want you to give the knife back to me when this is all over. I know you’re about to start the hardest fight of your life, but I want you to promise me that you’ll survive. When you’ve won, I want you to personally hand my blade to me.”

“But what if I die, Miss Kat?” Dorrik questioned. “I am fighting a floor guardian without assistance. Worse, I don’t even have this level’s worth of dungeon awards. It is incredibly likely that-”

“That’s the thing.” Kat felt a prickling at the corner of her eyes as she cut him off. “If you were to die and drop to the first floor, Kaleek and I might lose track of you. I couldn’t live with that, so the answer is simple. You aren’t allowed to die.”

“But that is not the way of things,” Dorrik replied, their brow furrowing. For the first time that night, their crest fluttered slightly. “I cannot defeat a stronger enemy simply because I wish it to be so.”

“I disagree,” Kat said, her vision still locked on the distant tower. “You’re skilled and resourceful. I believe that you’ll find a way to win, even if you don’t. The dagger is there to remind you that you aren’t just fighting for yourself. You’re going to win today. You don’t have any other choice..”

“The knife is a promise between us,” she finished. “It’s a promise that you will survive and you will kill this thing. If only so that you can give me my knife back..”

“Indeed Miss Kat,” Dorrik said, nodding gravely.

She drew the dagger, flipping it in her hand and extending it hilt first toward the lokkel. They looked at it for a second that dragged on forever before accepting it and stuff the blade underneath the belt that held their armor to their waist.

Sikka choked back a quiet sob, and Kat winced slightly. She had thought that the other lokkel hadn’t been able to hear their conversation, but evidently she had underestimated the older woman’s hearing.

Their group lapsed into silence for almost a minute, nervous energy building as they all glared pensively at the staircase.

Thump.

A lokkel by the officials slammed a mallet down on a large drum made from leather and wood. A second later, three blows from their other arms rained down in a flurry that shook the air. Hundreds of paces away, near the whitish tower that extended up and out of the cavern, a large shape stirred.

“Dorrik Ahn of Clan Ahn.” Stallok’s voice echoed through the entire cavern. Another single beat from the drum followed by a patter of three lighter blows. “You are of age and the first throes of the change are upon you.”

There was definite movement around the base of the tower,

“Soon you will become a male,” Stallok continued, “a full member of Clan Ahn with all the privileges and responsibilities that entails. The Clan asks much of its members. Those that would join as full members must prove that they are worthy of that burden. A craftsman will create a masterwork. An artist, a song or a sculpture.”

“Dorrik Ahn.” Stallok pointed a clawed hand at them. “How is it that you will choose to answer the call of Clan Ahn?”

“Through martial prowess,” Dorrik called back. “Without any outside assistance I will slay the floor guardian of the ninth floor of the dreamscape.”

The drum thumped again. The shape that had been curled around the base of the staircase broke into a run, rushing toward their party. One of the lokkel behind Stallok and Corvu began whispering words, their hands twisting in the familiar shape of arcane seals.

A protection spell sprang into being, shielding their entire retinue from the charging monster. The spell’s mana structures felt like Ward, but it was clear that the lokkel were using a much more powerful version, likely silver or gold tier.

The ground shook beneath Kat’s feet as the floor guardian thundered toward the observers, its bulk finally slipping into the light cast by the defensive spell.

“Then go forth Dorrik of Clan Ahn” Stallok said formally, clasping both pairs of hands in front of himself. “Slay the beast and prove yourself a warrior of Clan Ahn”

“HONK!”

The massive gozzlam’s cry echoed through the cave, its fanged beak dripping venom. It sprinted toward their party, webbed feet slapping against the stone as its wings beat wildly through the empty air.

Dorrik took a deep breath, and then their body was encased in an aura of brilliant violet.

They broke into a sprint, both of their swords shining in the soft golden glow of the Ward that protected the observers. Next to Kat, Sikka stiffened. Almost without thinking, she put her hand atop the lokkel’s shoulder and squeezed gently.

The gozzlam’s head darted forward, beak wide and almost as big as Dorrik themself as it tried to end the battle in one quick snap.

Dorrik spun to the side in a pirouette that would have made a ballerina blush. The attack crashed into the stone just behind them, sending rock shards careening into the Ward even as Dorrik used the force from their rotation to drive both of their swords into the feathers of the monster’s cheek.

Then Dorrik was gone, sprinting toward the gozzlam’s ankles before it could pull its head from the crater it had left in the rock. Their blades flashed a second time.

“HONK!”

The bellow hit Kat with the force of semi, knocking her back a half step despite the steady glow from the defensive ward. A pair of holes in the side of the monster’s face dribbled thin lines of blood down its cheeks as it kicked out with one webbed foot, trying to catch Dorrik as they dodged away after their most recent strike.

Dorrik jumped backward, holding both of their swords out in front of themselves and letting the gozzlam’s foot catch them in the air. The points of their blades cut through the heavy webbing, using the momentum from the kick against the floor guardian.

They flew backward, swords ripping through the gozzlam’s foot even as Dorrik rushed through the air, landing some fifteen paces away, a wince of pain on their face.

Their bottom right hand left the hilt of its sword, slipping into a pouch and pulling out a flask of something murky and red. Dorrik quickly brought it to their mouth, taking a long pull before throwing the glass container to the side where it shattered on the rocks of the cavern floor.

The gozzlam spun around, a flap of leathery skin hanging loose from its foot as it towered over Dorrik, spreading its wings wide.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

It flapped once, ripping feathers from its wings and launching them like arrows toward the solitary lokkel. Dorrik raised both arms, and a purple glow filled the air in front of them.

Dozens of feathers impacted the stone all around them, quivering as they buried themselves a half pace deep in solid rock, but just in front of Dorrik, a trio hovered in the air, unmoving and suffused in a lavender glow.

Dorrik let their hands drop, the pace-long feathers falling with them.

The gozzlam hissed and lowered its head, overly long neck coiling like a snake as it charged toward Dorrik a second time. The lokkel dropped into a crouch, one of their hands slipping into their pouch and pulling out a sphere of something white.

Both parties moved at the same time, the gozzlam’s head darting forward in a flash and Dorrik throwing the sphere into the air with one hand while bisecting it with their other sword in an eyeblink.

A cloud of smoke and grit erupted from the sphere erupted on the battlefield, Dorrik running furiously out of it, their eyes pressed shut. Moments later, the gozzlam tripped over its own feet, slamming into the ground and tumbling through the other side of the obscuring fog.

It stood up unsteadily, blinking its eyes rapidly and hissing as its head swung around the cavern, trying but failing to find its opponent.

Dorrik helped the gozzlam out. Both of their swords flashed in a dizzying display, chopping and cutting at the monster’s spindly legs on either side as they dashed through its legs and into the open space beyond..

Blood spattered the cavern floor, and the massive goose jumped into the air, flapping its wings once to avoid the assault only to jet upward and slam blindly into the cave’s roof.

The gozzlam fell back to the ground, disoriented and bloody from its self-inflicted concussion. Still, for all the hits Dorrick had landed, Kat couldn’t help but notice that most weren’t that deep. The monster was bleeding, but the wounds were oozing, not pouring blood. The scales on its legs and the down on its body were simply too thick for precision slashes to do much damage.

It stood up, trembling slightly, mouth open to show its fangs as it hissed angrily. Both of its wings raised slightly, forming Vs on either side of the creature’s body as its head swung back and forth looking for Dorrik.

The monster’s eyes were swollen, tears flowing freely down the sides of its face as it tried to blink clear the irritating powder that Dorrik had thrown into the air.

With a quiet ‘honk, the gozzlam lifted its head into the air, snakelike neck stretched to its limit, and swung it toward the ground, chin and throat brushing along the rock as it dragged itself sideways in an attempt to catch Dorrik.

They leapt into the air, lavender glow suffusing their body as Psi energy enhanced Dorrik’s strength and reflexes. They thrust down with both swords just as the neck whooshed past, stabbing through the thick feathers and into the gozzlam’s flesh.

Movement ripped the blades free, sending a spray of blood into the air as the momentum from the giant goose’s neck sent Dorrik flying. They landed in a crouch, both of their bottom hands grabbing a pair of lightly glowing stones from the pouches at their side.

Dorrik crossed the blades, running the stones over their edges in sure quick strokes while the gozzlam lashed its head ineffectually from side to side. Just as they slipped the rocks back into their holders, the monster seemed to spot them.

It cocked its head to the side, tears still streaming from puffy red eyes, and blinked furiously, as if to confirm that the lokkel truly was standing immobile before it.

The lokkel spread their legs, dropping into a light crouch as they grasped each of their swords in a two handed grip. Their left blade dropped until it was at hip level, angled slightly upward toward the gozzlam’s beak while the right game up into an angled, almost horizontal guard in front of their muzzle.

A webbed foot thwapped against the ground. Then another, the flap torn by Dorrik’s swords flopping wildly as the gozzlam accelerated toward the solitary lokkel. Its wings spread from its side, partially bent so that it could flap them at a moment’s notice.

It thundered toward Dorrik, head arcing up into the air as it prepared to strike.

Purple energy sprang from the cavern floor, wrapping itself around one of the gozzlam’s ankles and weaving a violet chain that anchored itself into the stone in an eyeblink.

The goose jerked to a halt, its momentum halted by the binding around its ankle. Kat’s fingernails dug into her palm as she watched Dorrik stagger, some of kinetic energy arrested by the ability transferring to their body as the Psi ability burned through their stamina like dry kindling.

They broke into a run anyway. After fighting next to Dorrik every night, it was clear to Kat that the lokkel was beyond exhausted. Their form was off and their feet hit the cavern floor out of rhythm as they pushed themselves forward despite their lack of stamina.

Both swords rose into the air, glinting briefly before Dorrik brought them down on the side of the monster’s neck. Where the blades bit into its feathers, they burst into flames, the substance coating Dorrik’s weapons melting through the floor guardian’s defenses like a popsicle laying on a car hood on a hot summer day.

The weapons sank hilt deep. Even with the creature’s huge size, the blades passed almost the whole way through its neck.

It honked, wings thrashing wildly as it whipped its head upward, dragging Dorrik along with their swords into the air.

The blades slid downward almost a pace, scoring a pair of burning lines deep into the gozzlam’s neck before the coating on Dorrik’s swords expired, leaving them dangling from them as the floor guardian’s head flailed madly. Still, despite everything, Dorrik clung on with both pairs of hands, goose blood gushing from the wounds and spattering both the lokkel and the cavern floor.

Then, one sword slipped free of its neck.

Dorrik’s body swung through the air, pulled in a narrow arc anchored on the remaining weapon buried in the gozzlam. Their body snapped taut, and the second blade was ripped free, sending the lokkel flying.

They hit the ground in an inelegant roll, landing on their right shoulder and clattering some ten paces across the stone as they bled off the force of the throw. Woozily, Dorrik stood up, but between their exhaustion and the force of the recent blow, they moved far too slowly.

The gozzlam’s head darted in, a blur of white feathers speckled with blood, and Dorrik barely had a chance to get one of their arms up to ward off the monster’s fangs before they snapped shut with a sickening crack.

Dorrik’s arm was broken, there was no doubt about that even from a distance, but they kept their head about them, stabbing their other sword deep into the gozzlam’s eye.

It released its hold on Dorrik, jerking back and taking their weapon with it. The lokkel didn’t waste any time, scooping up its remaining sword with its good arms and quickly hacking it down on their own right shoulder, severing their injured arm with one swift stroke.

Next to Kat, Sikka jerked to the side, a muffled sob tearing itself from her throat. Kat’s fingers were practically digging into the female lokkel’s shoulder, her lip stinging from where she bit it to stop herself from exclaiming anything.

The limb flopped to the ground, twitching spastically as the gozzlam’s venom burned through its nerves. Dorrik took a step back, hands trembling as they frantically pulled one of the stones they had used earlier from their pouch along with Kat’s dagger. The stone and metal scraped together, drawing a flash of sparks before they pressed the flat of the blade tight to their injured shoulder.

Flames flashed, licking at the raw bleeding flesh and cauterizing the wound.

Dorrik wobbled slightly, scraping the last of the stone onto their sword and the knife while the gozzlam continued to thrash some ten to fifteen paces away. It wasn’t bothering him, instead more worried with the sword shoved deep into its eye, but the floor guardian’s frenzied movements made it a hard target to approach.

Just as the lokkel pulled another red potion from their pouch, the huge monster calmed slightly, fixing its remaining eye on them in an unblinking glare. It opened its mouth and let out a low, dangerous hiss.

Dorrik chugged the potion, tossing it to the side and settling back into a fighting stance, seemingly unperturbed by their own arm twitching and clenching on the stone next to them.

The glass potion ampoule shattering against the stone served as a starting pistol.

Both the gozzlam and Dorrik ran at each other, the lokkel zig zagging while the floor guardian thundered straight ahead, its head turned slightly to the side so that its puffy and inflamed ‘good’ eye could track its opponent.

Its head jerked forward, lunging with whiplike speed toward Dorrik. They seemed to flow to the side. There was no stamina left for Dorrik to enhance their attributes, so rather than raw power or agility, they relied on practice and skill.

Dorrik’s feet tapped against the stone without any wasted motion or energy. The gozzlam’s speed didn’t leave any room for error, so the lokkel didn’t make any.

Kat’s breath caught in her throat as Dorrik slipped past the snapping beak, the wind of its passage pulling at their armor and crest with barely a finger span to spare. Then, they were in the air, jumping astride the gozzlam’s neck like it were a horse and stabbing downward with their one remaining sword.

Once again, the feathers burst into flame, clearing the way for the metal to sink into the monster’s unprotected neck.

The gozzlam jerked back, trying and failing to knock Dorrik free.

Instead, their sword shifted in the wound, cutting a channel into the goose’s neck as the lokkel slid almost a pace downward. It honked ineffectually, slamming its head into the roof of the cavern in a vain attempt to dislodge the pest sawing away at its back.

Dorrik’s feet seemed to burrow into the down of the monster’s neck, practically cementing the lokkel to the bucking and honking monster.

Frantically, it curved its head around to try and snap at where Dorrik was riding its back like a wild bronco. That was all the invitation the lokkel needed.

They released their sword and kicked off of the gozzlam’s neck, jumping the short distance toward the creature’s unprotected face. There was a brief flash of purple as the last of their stamina was used to enhance Dorrik’s strength.

Their two left hands grabbed the feathers above and below the monster’s remaining eye, anchoring Dorirk in place while their right hand slammed Kat’s dagger home.

The coating on the weapon did its job. The gozzlam’s eye burst into flames, burning both Dorrik and their opponent.

If Dorrik felt the pain, they didn’t show any sign, instead pushing their arm deeper into the floor guardian’s head as it screeched and thrashed. It stumbled when Dorrik’s shoulder was flush with the side of its head. They grunted, pushing off with their two good arms and twisting their body so that they could thrust just a little bit further inside the grievously injured monster’s skull.

Finally, it went completely stiff, tumbling boneless to the ground a half second later.

Dorrik extricated themselves from the monster’s corpse, their breath coming in short ragged gasps. The entire right side of their body was ruined. Their remaining arm was broken. The thrashing movements had evidently done a number on the trapped limb.

Almost worse were the burns. Large chunks of Dorrik’s side were seared beyond recognition with large patches of charred scales sloughing off.

But, despite everything, the gozzlam wasn’t moving. Against all odds, Dorrik had managed to kill the floor guardian.

The warding spell dropped away, and Kat barely even noticed that she was running. Behind her, Corvu was complimenting the efficiency and ruthlessness of Dorrik’s strategy against the massive goose, but the words went in one ear and out the other.

She skidded to a halt next to Dorrik, dropping to one knee as she frantically began mouthing the words to Cure Wounds. There were footsteps behind her, but she didn’t pay any attention to him, instead forcing every point of mana she could into the soft golden glow that surrounded her hands as she touched them to Dorrik’s injured side.

They hissed in pain, but the burns began disappearing at a visible rate as fresh dark scales pushed themselves up through Dorrik’s flesh. They looked up at her clouded, a hint of a smile on their muzzle as they recognized Kat.

The footsteps behind the two of them drew closer, as Dorrik reached up, resting their lower left hand gently on her bicep as Kat moved her hands up their side to their injured lower right arm.

“Thank you Miss Kat,” they whispered, their voice catching as they forced the words out.

“She needs to move so I can actually heal them, I have Cure Wounds IV, Ease Pain, and Sanguinate!” A lokkel voice behind her called out only for Sikka to snap back, all of her earlier weakness and indecision gone.

“No, Katherine stays. She’s family.”

“But-” The first voice began.

“There are no ‘buts’ here,” Sikka replied sternly. “Dorrik would want Katherine and Kaleek here in their moment of triumph. Honor their wishes. You can heal them once their teammate runs out of mana.”

Dorrik’s lower right arm popped, bone snapping back into place as Kat began to run low on mana. Her friend winced at the sound, giving their still tender arm a few experimental moves before a smile crossed their face.

They reached up with their just healed hand, pressing the blood and soot covered knife to Kat’s chest. It slid slightly as Dorrik’s arm trembled, leaving a reddish black smear across the leather of her armor.

“I held on Miss Kat,” they said with a cough. “When it bit me, the pain was like a thousand fire mites crawling through my nervous system at once. For a second, I thought about giving in to the pain. Letting it end me so that the agony would end and I could restart. In that moment, a curious thought flashed into my head. That I could not let myself die because I had made you a promise.”

“Thank you,” Dorrik continued quietly. “Your knife is what killed the beast, but you were right. The help it provided was much more than its simple physical presence. That is a concept I will have to meditate on after I go through the change.”

Kat, reached up and grasped their hand and pressed it against her chest, spell guttering out as she ran out of mana. Dorrik released her knife, and she grasped the hilt as the leaned back into the stone, a triumphant smile on their face while a pair of lokkel jumped into place on either side of her injured friend.

The two aliens began chanting spells, summoning waves of healing magic that washed over Dorrik. Kaleek put a hand on her shoulder. Kat hadn’t even heard the desoph approach.

Before she could say anything, Sikka’s arms wrapped around both of them, pulling them into a tight embrace. Then, it was hard to see or say anything through the tears.