The last morning in the dungeon started differently. There weren't ratkin ambushers or lurking shadowbeasts waiting Seventh to drop his defenses, or a beastkin cooking with gusto. It started with two elves fussing over a campfire, trying to keep two stacked cast iron pans leveled and evenly heated on fuelcubes.

  Seventh sipped his morning tea and enjoyed the elven high cuisine cooking show. “You're telling me they always do this?” he asked from Jenn.

  “Yep.”

  He scratched his chin. The beard was slowly coming together. Probably. There wasn't a mirror to check leaving only poking and scratching as tools to check oneself out. “I'm guessing this is the only time Oran let's them even close to the cookware?”

  “They do make good tea every now and then, but beyond that— nope.” Jenn sipped her own tea for emphasis while observing Sylvia trying not to get her robes on fire.

  Nodding, Seventh mirrored the gesture and enjoyed the warm fragrance of the tea. It really was the good stuff, East Valley Blend they called it. Absently, Seventh made a note to buy it for his own use when getting out.

  He looked down at the rocky stairs they were still camping on. Janiq and Oran had left almost an hour ago for their own celebratory ritual. Personally Seventh didn't understand it, needless frivolity in a dangerous environment. Who the hell does a running competition in a middle of a delve?

  “They're here soon. I can hear faint grunting down there,” Jenn said with a lopsided grin. “At least I think that's why I hear grunting and moaning...”

  Seventh scoffed as an answer and Jenn noticed his sulkiness. “He's a good guy you know? Janiq does what's best for the team— and to our esteemed client.”

  She had noticed the slight frost before between Seventh and Janiq earlier in the morning. An archer with keen eyes— and apparently with sharp ears. Seventh couldn't hear anything down below.

  “I know, but I wished I could be at least some use. I'm just passively carrying some gear and keeping watch with undead. That hardly counts as anything.”

  Jenn lightly punched him on the shoulder. “Hey. We can hardly put our client to work can we? Hells, the pelt alone is a generous payment not to talk about yesterdays mushroom meal. Have you looked at Nevin? He's absolutely giddy from a thought of getting new gear made from that shadowy stuff.”

  The darkly clothed Rogue looked up and gave them a quick thumbs up before moving fuel cubes on the top pan. He looked absolutely same as always.

  Maybe this is the giddy Nevin? I can see a small smile tugging at the right corner of his mouth.

  Straining her neck, Jenn looked down at the tunnel before schooling her expression to something more neutral. “Sooo, speaking about yesterday and stuff. You really can make Essence Stones? Asking for a friend of course.”

  “If I say yes, does that count as finding out one or more secrets?” Seventh also turned his face neutral, trying not to let anything show to the outside.

  Jenn tapped her lips in thought. “Nope. Too easy.”

  “In that case…” Seventh channeled a bit of mana for a flashier cast, but it still ended in a lackluster fizzle, leaving only a sand-grain–sized Essence Stone in his hand.

  “Ta-daa!” He presented the grain with all insouciance he could muster, but the grand reveal of his poor Essence Stone almost made him laugh out loud.

  Jenn raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms— an expected reaction— but Sylvia was far more interested. The Mage— or was she a Wizard?— craned her neck to see better, solemnly staying in her cooking spot. “Could you bring that closer to me, please? One can hardly see such... erh.. trinket from a distance.”

  Seventh dropped the grain on Sylvia's waiting palm and poured himself more tea. The stone was small, sure, but it was just a little bit bigger than usual. He really should have continued making the stones daily, but he had more or less forgotten or just didn't bother to waste mana and time in his hurry to reach the topside.

  “It's not much, but if you had an ounce or more you could get a good price from these. You know what Affinity it has?” Sylvia asked after quickly checking the stone— out of politeness Seventh suspected— and handing it back. “Identifying or Appraising one... waste of copper, but if you have loads, and they are uniformly made it would cover the cost. Or you could just sell them as unidentified, but that is just asking for trouble.”

  Seventh sucked his lips in and looked at the Essence Stone on his hand. “Identify.”

  Entropy? What does that have to do with my Essence Stones?

  “Yes, Identify. You... know what that is, surely?” Sylvia had taken Seventh's cast as a question.

  “Of course I know! I just... you know. Cast it just now— Identify.”

  Seventh swatted the new box away before it even formed properly. He felt the three pairs of eyes boring into him and Seventh tried to not notice any of them, especially Nevin's piercing gaze.

  "You... haven't used Identify on your self made Essence Stones?" Sylvias tone was equal measure of incredulousness and utter bafflement of one's stupidity. It was a good question and Seventh didn't have a satisfying answer for it. Or any answer in that matter.

  He just shrugged.

  Sylvia blinked slowly and just... stared at Seventh until he felt like giving an answer. "It wasn't necessary for survival so I just didn't think about it. Was it stupid? In a hindsight, yes. Would it have changed anything? No. I would have just wasted mana that could have been used for Shadowbolt and stalled while waiting my mana to fill back up. If I had, I probably hadn't meet up with you guys."

  Jenn pursed her lips and looked at Sylvia. “I think you hit a nerve.”

  The elf coughed onto her fist. “I apologize if my inquiry offended you, Seventh. It just seemed like the most logical thing to do.”

  “You don't do the most logical things when you're scrambling for your life,” Seventh said annoyed and lifted his three-fingered hand. “Sometimes, you do what you have to do for survival and either live with the consequences or die trying.”

  Seeing his hand, Sylvia fidgeted with her robes, trying to find calming words or something else to say. She came empty and Jenn also looked troubled. Nevin shifted his gaze between Seventh and his party members.

  Good job shitting on the atmosphere, genius.

  Seventh balled his mangled hand into a fist and hid it behind his back. He stood quietly for a moment. A crackle and pop reminded all about the food, and everybody took the offered change of conversation.

  "What's for breakfast? Smells delicious." Seventh broke the ice awkwardly.

  Jenn had a toothy grin when she answered, "Fishcock."

  And so, the atmosphere lightened substantially, the darker mood forgotten and replaced with a smell of baked bread-fish.

  "I'm sorry, a what now?" Seventh was sure he heard something incorrectly.

  "Fishcock! A traditional elven travel dish," Jenn snickered. "Tastes better than it sounds, especially with... this." Jenn leaned to peruse her backpack while speaking and showcased a small clay jar. It was sealed with dark residue on the lid, and cracked open with a hiss when Jenn twisted the top off.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  She handed the jar closer to Seventh and he looked inside seeing butter. Smooth, golden butter. The food of the gods. Seventh felt himself beginning to salivate and licked his lips. "I could kiss you right now," he said.

  "Nah, you're not my type, Seventh," Jenn said with a cocked grin. "And I think you're more attracted to my goods than my personality anyways, it wouldn't last."

  "Hey, as long as I get some butter," Seventh chuckled. He looked down again. He could hear faint footsteps. “I think they are finally back coming up.”

  Jenn left the jar of butter next to Sylvia and cocked her head while walking down a couple of the steps. “Yep. They're here in a moment— hey, Seventh, go closer to the wall there. Give them some room.”

  Seventh positioned himself at the outer edge of the twisting staircase and waited. Only a handful of seconds later he could see Janiq's sweaty and red face appear from the darkness followed closely by grimacing Oran. The duelist hopped up several stairs with every step while Oran trusted his naturally longer stride. It wasn't enough and Janiq collapsed next to the campfire with a victorious grin.

  "Winner! Janiq as-Etusal of Cardral!” Jenn glamorously declared and gestured at the wheezing human. She turned towards Oran and made a lazy roll of her hand “Aaand the loser, Oran Ackerkin of some muddy field."

  While Janiq had collapsed, Oran was still standing although he was leaning heavily on the dungeon wall. "Ya cheating sod! Using Mirage Step at the start! I ain't carrying yer sweaty arse up top, you know?" he said with a mock-angry tone.

  "Worth...it," Janiq wheezed after getting enough air in. "This mortal coil...has been... shed. It is... restful place for the final... slumber." His words came out between gulps of air.

  "So you don't need your portion of breakfast? No need to feed a dead man. Oran, you want a double slice?" Sylvia asked while separating the pans and revealing the mysterious fishcock.

  The dungeon air filled even more heavily with warm smells of warm bread and fish. Noticing something else, and sniffing some more, Seventh could notice a subtle note of pork. Maybe even bacon. The food itself looked like a dense loaf of bread decorated with delicate leaf and vine patterns.

  “Nooo, I'm alive. I'm up— I'm up!” Janiq said hastily as he hoisted himself up on shaky legs. He collapsed almost immediately on the nearest rock step, and continued, "A miracle! The man has been resurrected by the smell alone!"

  Half of the party opened their mouth for fast reply, but Oran was the quickest. "Oh, so you get invigorated by the smell of weeks old preserved cock?"

  Everybody— especially Janiq— laughed at the quip. Sylvia's laugh made wobbly cuts while portioning the dish, making every piece lopsided.

  "Shut up and pass me the butter," Janiq wheezed.

  Seventh inspected the dish in his hands. It was a tightly packed assortment of small fishes breaded with pork and bacon bits in dark bread. Careful taste of the crust revealed the strong taste of whole grain rye. Following others, he slobbered butter everywhere he could, and dug in.

  There was a delicate balance of the mildly seasoned fish and overpowering rye. Butter softened the breading and Seventh figured out that there should be more fish than bread in every mouthful. With a generous dash of butter, of course.

  Breakfast was eaten in silence, everybody enjoying the taste of something else than preserved rations for a second time. The dish clearly meant more to Sylvia and Nevin as they ate more slowly, closing their eyes to savor every last bite.

  Real food, good company. Friends.

  After the filling meal, everybody was hesitant to move for somebody would get funny ideas about standing up and starting the climb. In the silence broken only by happy grunts of satisfaction, Seventh needed to ask a question. “So, what does the winner get?”

  “The loser— Oran, of course— buys me the first round of food and drinks at the tavern,” Janiq answered.

  Seventh nodded before he realized something. “The first round of food?”

  “The Bloated Badger's Tavern has a wide selection of food and drink. One does not simply eat just one dish.”

  Seventh smiled. It sounded like the West Wind had their day planned out and it comprised of partying with dear friends, enjoying life and the fruits of their own labor. He didn't have any of that. He didn't even know yet what would he do at the topside. Maybe a long, hot bath?

  He looked at his ragged clothing he had worn all this time. The leather armor had disintegrated long time ago and left at the corner of yesterday's landing. "Is there a good bath house somewhere in the city?" he asked.

  Surprisingly, Nevin lifted his gaze from his second portion to nod at Seventh. He could see a slight smile in the stoic elf's features. Even he was in good spirits and waiting for the relaxation after a crawl. Or maybe it was the fishcock thing.

  "Oh, nice. Somewhere you can show me?"

  Nevin nodded twice and pointed at himself before making a rippling motion with his hand. He was also going.

  "Great. I'll be in your care then."

  Jenn and Sylvia both raised their eyebrows and took their turns to stare at Nevin and Seventh. Neither of the men commented or reacted to the stares and just enjoyed the afterglow of great meal.

  The group wasn't in a hurry to break camp to start the last climb. Janiq didn't even suggest light sparring after the breakfast. He was still sitting on the stairs, but now he was livelier with some food in his stomach.

  "Delicious as always Sylvia." Janiq finally got up, and tested his legs by doing a couple squats. "Alright, time to move. Even if we take it slow we should arrive well before sundown."

  The camp was slowly broken down, and everything was neatly packed in backpacks and carry-on rolls. Even though everybody was more sluggish than usual, the mood was elevated. Seventh started to think that the elves had slipped something in the food, but there weren't any condition icons popping up.

  "Seventh? Could you store your undead now? I don't think we're meeting any trouble so close to the surface. Better to store them before other adventurers attack them by mistake," Janiq asked when they were making the last checks.

  "Sure," Seventh said. "Undead! Gather up!"

  Two undead ratkin skittered up from below and two from above. There hadn't been any side tunnels nearby, so they were stationed in the stairs. Fang-Knife's ears rose and he tilted his head. Thankfully, the knives stayed in their sheaths. Oran took a long sidestep to stay as far as possible from the undead.

  "Need to get you guys into the storage. I think the City Watch doesn't look kindly on random undead walking around," Seventh said while bamfing the first one into storage.

  Fang's ears drooped low and he made a low hiss.

  "I know you don't like it, but it must be done."

  Dropping his ears low and making a low growl, Fang lifted his hand and made a snipping motion with two of his fingers. Seventh paused for a second to look at the gesture and raised an eyebrow at Fang.

  “Rude.” Fang disappeared to the void,

  "What's up with that one?" Jenn asked curiously. "Why's that more animated?"

  "Fang? I raised him with amplified Raise Dead so he has more personality— or something, I don't know. I have a ton of questions for a proper Necromancer."

  "And what's this?" Sylvia asked while copying the cutting gesture.

  Seventh shrugged. "He threatens to cut my tail off. Kinda useless since I don't have one.

  Janiq, Oran, and Nevin stopped to stare at Seventh, horrified. Oran decided to speak first. "I don't think it was talking about you tail. You have something else prunable."

  Seventh furrowed his brow as he looked at the other men. Slowly, he came to the horrifying realization. "I... I need to talk to him about that. Maybe an order or two just in case?"

  Jenn snickered as Sylvia rolled her eyes. They had taken the lead as the men shivered in fear. The formation had changed noticeably compared to yesterday. Nevin wasn't somewhere in the front scouting, he was just couple of steps ahead of the group, scanning the stairs for anything unusual.

  Oran and Janiq stood almost shoulder to shoulder, still talking about their race and bickering if using a movement Skill was cheating or not. Magical lights conjured by Sylvia lighted the way with warm yellow light as the group ascended. Gradually the stairway started to narrow so they had to walk in a line one after another.

  Seventh found himself behind Oran who started to have trouble with the narrowing passage. He had to duck down as the roof lowered. After huffing, puffing, and cursing to get through a specially tight passage, Oran popped forward and the staircase was bathed in light as the tunnel opened to the world.

  Not torch or magical light. Warm, living yellow and red light.

  Seventh hadn't noticed how the air had gradually started to taste fresher every step— he was behind Oran after all. Now, when the tunnel was open, it was unmistakable.

  He could heard a wind howling beyond the passage and Oran talking to Jenn and Sylvia. They were laughing.

  Seventh stepped in to the light, through the passage. To the upside.

  The natural brightness blinded him. He could only see vague shapes from the crack of his eyelids. Wind rustled his hair. He could smell smoke, wet stone, and grass in the wind. Every lungful pricked and poked his chest, like he hadn't breathed real air before. Somewhere nearby, a city murmured.

  Carefully, Seventh opened his eyes.

  Seventh's jaw dropped down as he saw a gigantic fortress hang in the air in front of him. The grey walls were easily dozens of feet high, and a rainbow of banners hung on the even taller towers. The wind rustled the banners, making the fortress dance in color.

  It hung there, defying reason.

  Closing his mouth, Seventh looked down and saw enormous hole in the ground, a tear on the world continuing further down to an inky nothing or darkness. Blinking, he saw other wall, slightly shorter than the fortress', surrounding the tear Seventh was standing in. Watchtowers were peppered all around the Tear.

  “It's not really flying you know.”

  “Huh?” Seventh turned his head to see who was talking.

  “It's not flying, see? Look at the bottom of the wall, the slight green glimmer? That's the bedrock.” Janiq pointed at the fortress. “It's just a natural illusion— or maybe Mages' Guild has something to do with it— making the Adamantine Bastion look like it's floating in the air. Pretty cool, right?”

  Seventh didn't have enough faculties working yet for a proper answer. The fresh smells, the light, and the surprise structure was almost too much to process. “Uh-huh.”

  He focused where Janiq pointed and really saw the greenish shine on the rock. Could it actually be...?

  “Is that really adamantine?” Seventh asked in awe.

  Janiq smiled at the obvious question. “Yes. The biggest lump of the stuff in the whole Kingdom of Iron.”

  “It's pronounced éron.” Jenn helpfully noted.

  “Nobody cares,” Oran yelled above. He had already moved up. Seventh noticed that there were even more stairs to climb. Only a hundred feet of snaking stairs ending on a large, open landing with a gate.

  Wonderful. Like my legs don't already burn.

  “I care!” Jenn huffed and followed Oran to smack him. Sylvia and Nevin also wandered up, leaving Seventh staring at the Bastion with Janiq.

  Smiling at the conversation, Seventh closed his eyes and took in a lungful of fresh air. He held it in until he felt like choking and repeated the process, slowly raising his head eyes still closed.

  When he opened them, he saw the bright blue sky.

  The real sky.

  Not mosaic ceiling.

  Not a thought of a dying ratkin.

  A real sky.

  White clouds painted orange by a low hanging sun wafted lazily forward chased by the darker clouds bringing rain to the land below. Seventh saw a flock of birds high above and followed them with his gaze until they disappeared behind the tall walls.

  He was out. Out of the neverending nightmare of the dungeon. While enjoying the feeling of freedom, a small twist of regret entered Seventh's heart. He wished they were here to share the feeling.

  Adam, Charles, Dylan, Eric, Frank, George.

  He swiped the moisture from his eyes.

  They deserved to see the sky too. He had to do better the next time. He had to be better.