Going Forward

"So… Can we all be a little more quiet now?" Maya felt the need for a reminder. She sniffed herself. The stench hadn't gone away but it was considerably less as it was masked by the aroma of a flowery field. Until that whirl of a hurl, she didn't realize how much she missed the tiled floors of a coin laundromat.

"Yes. Please." Frina agreed casually. Her lute looked worse than a man tied and dragged by a horse; Everyone doubted whether her instrument was made of wood. She thought nothing of the previous fight because it was just another day in Ghala, where blood not bled was considered an unusual weekday.

But in truth, Frina was weary from the fight and the battle hymn she played. She lugged her legs across the coarse ground. Combined with fatigue, she regretted the use of the bouquets she packed beforehand. She used both on Maya. It was meant for congratulating both Maya and Athalos once they emerged from the cave victorious. She thought to give them rocks instead now. There was an abundance around.

Frina wasn't only one with sore limbs.

Athalos, with a thick bandage wrapped around his knee, leaned heavily on his staff. He was in pain but that couldn't outmatch what he felt in his heart. His eyes shot daggers at the dwarf upfront. He had to make an estimated guess where Graff was. The hollowness he felt expanded like a monsoon of grief. Then a strike of thunder. He wouldn't be kept in silence any longer. He wailed with a heart broken not once but thrice, "Why, dwarf?! Why?!"

"Oh for the love of- Will ye pipe down just as Lady Maya wishes?! Pretty certain there's a majority on that too!" Graff groaned. He swore he felt the first wrinkle on his skin.

Maya went to Athalos' side. She sympathized with him. She didn't need the torch to see how hurt he was. With the endearment of a mother's voice, one she never heard from her own, she spoke gently, "Athalos… It's okay. That's life. We already talked about this. Don't let it get to-"

"Forgive me, Lady Maya." Athalos bowed his head. "But one of the perks of the unseeing actually has a disadvantage. A half-perk. It was folly of me not knowing so… My heightened sense of smell. So if you would please-"

"Loud and clear,'' interrupted Maya. Her heart hardened like rock. She retreated to the back of the line, her new designated spot. She was told by the group that it would be good practice for her to learn the duties of a rear guard. But she saw past their lies. The sole reason was the updraft that came from within the cave and exited to the entrance. Still, she couldn't blame them. She would've done the same.

Athalos didn't want to hurt Maya, never, but he had to breathe. As he picked the shards of his heart, he felt the prick of pain come back like written mail without a stamp. He muttered, "How could you?"

Graff restrained himself from throwing his torch at Athalos' face. "It's not like we planned for this to-"

"I was talking to the dumb stupid bat!"

Graff had the end of a rope in his hand. It was meant for traversing vertically inside the cave or to tie up unwanted guests for interrogation but the other end of the rope looped around Gregory's neck; It wasn't too tight but just right. The bat lowered its head and let out a gentle purr as he patted it on its head. "It ain't me fault Gregory here can tell who has more of a ranger's blood."

Athalos grinded his teeth.

"Is this really how these tests go?" Maya asked over Athalos' skulking. She wasn't sure but it seemed a little too much even if it was her first dungeon. "I was expecting goblins. Maybe even slimes. But bloodthirsty bats? And that dead guy we met before we went in?"

"First of all, not all of 'em were into the red diet." Graff thumbed towards the bat. "Turns out cute Gregory is a vegan. No reason to be generalizing now, my lady."

"A vile vegan that ate more than half our rations." Athalos made sure his comment was heard.

"But aye," Graff willingly ignored Athalos. "I thought it was just how lowly we are as warriors but the tip of me nose has been itchin' like a dog with a bad case of fleas… Something's not right here."

Maya's torch flickered. She added in a grim voice, "I hope we get to the man's companion soon."

Frina raised her torch. "Look."

Athalos leaned his head on his staff. He muttered fervently, "I pray for the day I am numbed from such pain."

Maya squinted and clutched her bag as she arrived at Frina's side. The ground was different. The wider path ahead didn't have the wear of one travelled. Sleek square slabs of rock tiled the floor; Seven one-meter tiles made up its width. Their torches' orange glow faded along the earthy arch of the tunnel until the starved darkness.

"I think there's someone there." Frina pointed forward at the dark. There was a brief amber glow like a far away star. She would have dismissed it as torch's stray ember if it wasn't so distinct.

Graff, tugging Gregory along behind him, joined them before the edge of the tiled flooring. He saw the faint light too. He spoke with a grain of caution. "Think it's the survivor? Though I have to say, ye wouldn't have the time to be so eerie and cryptic if ye were the lone survivor of yer group. Twitchy nose, folks."

"It's a trap. I'm a hundred percent sure of it." Maya shook her head. She hadn't been in any other dungeon but her stocked knowledge of movies, comics, and books all hoisted blaring red flags. But she scanned around and there was no other path except forward. "I don't think we have much of a choice though."

Maya stepped forward, still behind the manmade floor, and stretched her foot out like one would when testing the coolness of a lake. Her sole tapped the floor and she instantly retreated. Nothing. She was hesitant to tap on the rest of the tiles. She turned to Gregory who received her with a docile blank stare. "We should let the bat go first."

Frina nodded.

Athalos slow clapped.

"Are ye all out of yer minds?!" Graff slid against the rough soil to Gregory's defense. He banged his torch against his held up shield. He glared at them but especially towards Maya who brought up the suggestion. He bared his fangs at her like a chihuahua would to a stranger. "Has yer stench robbed ye of human decency?! How black have yer hearts darkened! We must not let the aftermath of battle slaughter what makes us different from beasts- But not ye, Greffodil. Yer one of the good ones."

"Greff- Oh god." Maya raised her hands and walked away. She didn't know how a name sounded so dumb that her brain halted all activities.

Athalos spat on the ground, though it hit his foot. He shouted with scorn, "It's Gregory and you know he likes that name no matter how many times you force it upon him!"

"It will hold!" Graff stomped his foot down. "Be it tomorrow or a year, I will have the satisfaction of a mother naming her child!"

Maya chopped both hands in air towards the path they had to cross. "Don't you get it?! How are we supposed to get to the other side if we don't know the traps?!"

Graff squinted with scorn as he petted Gregory's leg.

Maya held up three fingers. She pleaded logic. "We have to save the person, retrieve the- the thing, and earn our licenses so we can finally get Graffodil's Troupe up and running!"

Graff cleared his throat and proudly corrected, "Graffodil and Greffodil's Troupe."

Maya had the urge to find the signed parchment and burn her signature off.

"Gregory. His damn name is Gregory." Athalos muttered in the corner.

"The thing is a pommel sword which the guild hall left for novices to retrieve," assisted Frina.

"There, that!" Maya pointed at the bard. She knelt down before the dwarf. "Remember the dream, Graff. Remember that Io Hara should fall."

Graff grunted and crossed his arms. His mind was about to listen but instead, he shifted his attention to the bard. "Frina… Ye of all people… I thought ye were a crusader of creatures! How can ye agree with this— this trot to the gallows!"

Frina looked away and thought nothing of Gregory. "Not cute enough."

Graff didn't know what to do. Outnumbered and torn, he sought an answer in Gregory's round red eyes. He ran his stubby fingers over its soft black fur around its arm. There was nothing threatening about the bat's drooling fangs nor its manslaying claws.

Then the bat looked forward. It dropped its jaw.

Athalos was at the edge of the stone tiles. He, knee-injured and staff-armed, was ready to take the plunge into the trap-laden floor. He hid his face as he spoke over his shoulder. "Don't think this is for you, Gregory."

Frina stood idly by but Maya tried to reach for Athalos. She reached for his cloak and shouted, "Athalos! Don't!"

But Athalos shut all other senses. He concentrated on the perilous task at hand. Though it made no sense except for dramatic effect, he opened his eyes forward. Before he took off, he prayed, "Watch me, Athalos."

As Graff held Gregory close, he raised his eyebrow. "Did that daft one really pray to himself?"

Maya punched the ground. It wasn't because of her lack of courage nor was it that she couldn't stop Athalos' advance. "Why… Why would you— Out of everything he could pray to watch over him…"

Head held high and knee-bent, Athalos walked forward.

It was like watching a horror movie. The suspense tightened the others' chests. Every step Athalos took sent their hearts in a freefall. Maya peeked through the gaps between her fingers. She could barely watch what might happen.

Athalos made it past the first row and everyone but Graff sighed of relief. The dwarf didn't have high expectations, or any whatsoever. Whatever drove Athalos, whether it was bravery, jealousy, or idiocy, he knew he had a good deal. If Athalos died, he'd be sole manager and he'd have Gregory all to himself. It was a win-win.

"See? Heh. How ironic. Oh those of little faith—" Athalos took his first step on the second row and, from underneath the stone slab, a loud click echoed in the tunnel.