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Making the climb back up was long and arduous but not difficult. Just exhausting, as the aches that I had gained intensified over the next few days of movement. We pushed on, knowing that I was suffering, mostly because the option of a better rest spot could only be found in the city itself.

Or, well, as close as to restful as could be had.

The problems began when we got out, not even a full week – two hands –after we had gone down. Among other things, the government had only just started putting the process of checks in place, and so the line out of the dungeon was significant.

I was half delirious at this point; reducing my healing meant that I was, unknowingly, running a fever that had set in after my body had been inflamed. As such, I did not notice the guards shifting to surround us while Kira answered the questions.

The sudden leveling of polearms in my direction had me snapping to full wakefulness, and I grabbed the closest spearhead without thinking. A tug and turn brought the weapon closer to me, tearing it out of the guard’s hand and bringing him in. I stepped right in, slipping a foot between his legs and knocking him backwards so that he was half-falling before the cries around me reached my conscious mind.

“Lin! Stop!”

“Hold!”

“Kill him!”

“Abatt find you—!”

Freezing with the guard teetering over, ready to fall, I looked about and realized that the polearms – spears and halberds for the most part – were around everyone’s faces. Yorrick had dropped in close to his own guard, a knife held low and between his opponent’s legs, while Sophia was on her toes, a point leveled at her throat.

“What are you doing?” Kira shouted.

“Uhh… they pointed their weapons at us!” I said. “I didn’t…”

“He’s right, Kira. What are you doing?” Brand snapped.

“We’re taking you in for further questioning.” The guard who was holding Sophia up with his spear snapped. There was something in his bearing and the better shape of his armor that had me thinking he was more than a minion guard member. “You can either surrender for questioning or we’ll cut you down here.”

“If you can…” Yorrick snapped.

“Yor!” Kira cried out in horror. “Stop it.”

“Weller-brained idiot…” growled Brand. “We’re not fighting, but why us?”

“Him.” A jerk of the head indicated me, and I frowned. The guard sergeant did not wait, continuing. “He’s suspected of player killing.”

“Oh shit…” Yorrick muttered, but he was relaxing.

“He can explain…” Kira started.

“Stop talking!” Brand hissed at Kira.

I sighed, releasing the guard I had nearly thrown and helping him to regain his balance. Stepping away made, he looked at me a little confused, uncertain if he should be leveling his spear at me, while his companion was not as hesitant, pushing the tip of his weapon so close to my face, I had to force myself not to react.

“Come along peacefully. Keep your hands raised!” The guard barked at me, and when I nodded, he gestured for the other group to round up my friends. I followed along, finding myself limping still, and wondered if this was going to be late or early twentieth century questioning or something a little more medieval.

Because if they went medieval on me, I wasn’t entirely certain I could hold back.

***

“I told you, they attacked me first.” I tapped the table and regretted it immediately. The finger I had used to do it throbbed, the wound caused by the drawing of blood to verify that, yes, I was not a doppelganger still aching. The guard who had done the job had not been particularly careful with the pin he had utilized, such that he had poked it halfway through.

Mahdi find him, over and over again.

“Tell me again.”

I sighed, looking over to the woman who had arrived not long ago and taken a stance far from me. She was clad in the priest robes of one of the gods, though for the life of me, I could not recall what the specific, minor alterations in the cut and cloth meant. While the church was – for the most part – monolithic in that every god was worshipped, each priest could dedicate themselves to a specific god. In doing so, they could connect to the specific orbs that channeled their god’s powers, giving them a second skill at times. It was one of the major advantages of service, though there were also significant drawbacks, enough so that it was not the path to power for most. Among other things, a soul could only handle so much, and other dungeon orbs could be as useful, if not more so, depending on the kind of connection you were able to achieve and the level of the god orb connection you were allowed to utilize.

That was, at the time, about the extent of my understanding of the entire process. I mostly avoided such topics, not interested in joining a church, no matter how clear it was that at least these gods were real. Partly, I think, because they were not truly gods – not in the sense that we believed on Earth.

But at least these individuals were a little more hands-on.

“I was at a watering hole, alone because of the fall. Watching it and trying to decide if I could wait or fight my way through when the group found me. We worked together to kill the monsters there, but I got the feeling they were holding back. In particular, they were interested in the fact that I was alone by myself. When they left, I made mention that I’d be at the pool waiting for my friends, and then set up a trap.”

“Why set a trap?”

“Because I wanted to know if they really were going to try to kill me.”

“Why not run? Or just leave?”

I gestured down at my body, at the blood that still stained the clothing I wore, the damaged armor, the visible bruises – so many of them, I was more black and blue than tan. At least they let me continue to suck on the healing pills, once they verified what they were.

“You could have tried,” the guard sergeant stated.

“They could have not tried to kill me.” I shrugged. “When they attacked my false body that I’d set near the curshavy, I attacked them back. Killed the archers first and then finished off their tank. Their assassin was killed by the curshavy.”

“And that’s why you have so many orbs and all their gear.”

“Just what was enchanted or was useful. Left their bodies behind.”

The guard leaned back, seeming satisfied for the moment. I took the chance to drink more water, grateful that they were leaning more towards a lighter interrogation technique.

Then again, when the people you were questioning could potentially kill you, perhaps more caution was warranted. Also…

“He tells the truth.” The priestess intoned, finally. “There are no falsehoods in his tale, though he lies to himself a little.”

“Hmm?” I raised an eyebrow at the priestess.

“You harbor more guilt over your actions than you care to admit. You grieve for them, and try to justify what happened to us and most of all, to yourself.”

“I…”

“There is nothing wrong with that.” She tilted her head to the side. “Though I do recommend you come to the temple to speak with us.”

“I don’t really do religion.”

“And yet, we are still there.” She swept her gaze up and down my body before she added, “You might find that speaking with my sister of Thera would be beneficial.”

It took me a moment to remember who Thera was. The healer.

Oh.

“I might have to do that.”

“Sister, I don’t think—”

“He is innocent. His actions, while ill-advised, were not criminal. At any other time, you would not even ask such questions. What the dungeon wills, the dungeon hides.”

The guard bowed his head in acknowledgement and sighed, standing up. He turned to me, glaring, and added, “Make sure you get your medallion. Or else—!”

“Of course.” By the time I turned to thank the priestess – or even enquire about what particular god she worshipped – she was gone. Leaving me alone in the stone interrogation room. At least the reinforced cell door was ajar.

Free at last. Which meant I could, finally, get some sleep.