Kairos 81: The Darkest Dungeon

The Necromanteion’s entrance had changed a great deal since Kairos had left.

A fortified camp had grown at the central mountain’s feet, shielded by trenches, spikes, and earth walls. Most ‘houses’ were temporary amenities like huts and tents, but wooden buildings had risen with Kairos’ [Idol] at its center: an inn catering to adventurers, an alehouse, an infirmary…

According to Julia, people nicknamed this new settlement ‘Kairos’ Gate’ after him. It took days for the Travian King and his escort to reach it, as snow made the colony’s few roads difficult to travel. Julia had also insisted on following her husband and brother-in-law to the dungeon’s entrance, her heavy pregnancy necessitating a litter carried by two minotaur workers. Agron, Nessus and other warriors carried the [Telchine Skiff] with ropes, while Rook and Andromache flew above the group. The nymph had experimented with her shapeshifting to transform into elementals, becoming as free as the wind… in more ways than one.

“I never imagined I would get a litter one day,” Kairos said as he helped his wife climb down from the chair. His [Golden Fleece] kept him warm, while she carried a heavy fur mantle; spellcasters had shielded her with [Frost Resistance] spells all the way to the settlement. “It’s a strange experience.”

“You have carried the weight of thousands on your shoulders, husband,” Julia reminded him. “What goes around, comes around.”

Kairos couldn’t help but chuckle in response, as he put his arm around his wife’s. His [Idol] and the cacodaemon Eurynomos occupied the settlement’s center, protected by guards; a trio of Travian adventurers had come to pay homage to the statue, begging it to heal one of their own. The [Idol] shone with a bright light, erasing scars from the skin while its monstrous keeper watched.

However, it was another creature that caught Kairos’ attention.

“Manling, there you are!” Aglaonice greeted the king and his entourage from atop a pillow throne. The annoying sphinx was currently engaged in some kind of hourglass-timed board game with a luckless soldier biting his nails in frustration. Three more men were massaging the feline’s back, while a woman tended to a campfire to keep her warm. None of them looked happy to serve. “Care to play with me?”

Though Kairos forbade her from playing lethal games, the wily sphinx seemed to have found a loophole. He glanced at her game, which took the shape of multiple tilts; most were turned, but a few revealed colored letters. “What are the rules?”

“So glad you asked,” Aglaonice said with a pompous and eminently infuriating expression. “Each tilt on this eight per eight cube hides a colored letter, associated in pairs; together, these letters must be used to form the correct answer to the riddle. You must memorize their location before I turn the tilts, and then write the answer to my riddle. All of this before the hourglass runs out, of course.”

“Uh-huh,” Kairos replied with a nod. Why were her games getting more and more complicated each time he saw her? “And I suppose they get eaten if they guess wrong?”

“A manling after my own heart, but you are wrong,” Aglaonice replied. “If they lose, they must become part of my harem for a year.”

Kairos squinted at her.

“My intellectual harem.” Aglaonice feigned outrage. “Do you take me for a sphinx of loose morals? We have intense mental workouts and board game nights, nothing more.”

“What is always in front of you but can’t be seen?” one of her servants said with a maddened look. “It’s the future, not death…”

“Shush,” Aglaonice said. “Trade secrets.”

Somehow, Kairos wondered if serving as the sphinx’s intellectual sparring partner for a year might not have been worse than torture. “Why would anybody make that wager?”

“If they win, they gain a treasure,” Aglaonice said, before looking at her hourglass while her poor sparring partner tried to reveal the right tilts. “Of course nobody did, and that won’t change anytime soon.”

“You forget yourself,” Julia said with a smug smirk. “I won our last match.”

Aglaonice responded with a venomous, hypocritical grin. If looks could kill, Julia would have been hanged, quartered, and burnt to a crisp. “One night, we will have a passionate, wild chess game and I will make you eat these words. Alongside other things.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Julia replied while the sphinx’s current victim let out a scream of sheer frustration.

“Anyway, manling, do not forget our little pact,” Aglaonice said while slouching on her pillows. “I want the rewards promised to me.”

“You shall have them,” Kairos replied with a shrug. If there was a dungeon left standing when they were done with it.

The escort moved to the dungeon’s entrance, to its gates of Underworld miasma. Rook landed on the [Telchine Skiff], while Andromache regained her nymph form next to the boat. “Can’t we squeeze the Foresight inside?” the griffin asked. “It feels weird to take another boat.”

“We can hardly fit a warship through narrow corridors, brave bird,” Andromache said with a smile.

“Then we just have to feed it mice! They’re small, the ship will shrink! Problem solved!”

“Pure genius,” Kairos replied with a chuckle. “I wish I’d thought of it.”

“Of course it’s smart, I said it,” Rook said with innocence. “You should listen to me more often, Kairos.”

“I’m not carrying the ship and the bird at once,” Agron grunted. “He has legs, he can use them.”

“But Kairos got a litter!” Rook protested, clearly understanding the minotaur. One of them must have invested in a new [Beast Tongue]-related Skill. “Why can’t I have one? I have my face on your coins!”

Julia gave the scene a bemused smile, before turning to her husband and brother-in-law. “I hope you brought everything.”

“We did,” Sertorius replied, wearing a copy of the [Horns of Hypnos] and Lycean armor. He also carried a weapon of his own, a staff of chiseled blue crystal that Kairos immediately analyzed.

Aeon Staff

Rank: Staff 2.

Value: 5500 gold coins.

A powerful quarterstaff only granted to the greatest of Lyce’s magisters as a symbol of authority. Effects can only be activated by a [Spellcaster] with the [Judge] subclass; when the user casts a spell, he can imbue it with a single word at will. If the spell’s target fails a [Charisma] check opposite to the Spellcaster’s, he must obey the word like a command at the exclusion of any other task. This is a [Mind] effect; [Demigod] and [God] Ranks automatically shrug it off.

“Quite powerful,” Kairos commented.

“It won’t help against Helios, but it should make our journey easier,” Sertorius replied with a shrug. “Otherwise, I work better as support. You have little to fear from ailments so long as I am with you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for our party composition.” The Travian king had already allocated places for everyone; Nessus at the front to scout for traps, Agron and Kairos himself as the vanguard, the more fragile Thales and Sertorius in the center, Cassandra and Andromache at the rear. “Truth be told, Thales is the one I worry for the most. He doesn’t fare well in direct confrontation.”

“He has practiced slinging,” Julia reassured him. “He promised he would bring you back to me alive. The both of you.”

“There is nothing to fear,” Sertorius replied with iron confidence.

Though he was less sure, Kairos couldn’t help but nod in response. He hadn’t fought a Nemean Lion, a dragon, a pirate queen, and prepared for a war with Mithridates only to perish in a dungeon’s cave.

“I pray your optimism is not misplaced,” Julia replied, her face full of concern. After a moment facing her brother, she suddenly took a step forward… and hugged him.

Sertorius flinched in surprise, his face a blank mask. Clearly, he hadn’t expected the gesture, and Kairos suddenly wondered if the two siblings had ever enjoyed a moment of open affection. After a moment where he didn’t react, the judge’s expression eased up and he embraced his sister back.

Julia wordlessly broke the hug, only to embrace her husband next. “Come back alive,” she said, her arms tightened around his waist. “If not for me or your throne, then for the child.”

“I will,” he promised while returning the hug. He felt Andromache’s heavy gaze on his back… and Nessus observing him at the edge of his vision. “I will find the necklace.”

“Your life matters more to me than a piece of jewelry, Kairos of Travia. Remember that.” Julia broke the embrace. “I would not look well in black, and neither would your mother.”

Kairos offered her a nod in response, before gathering with his team. Cassandra raised her bident, its flames melting the snow around her; Nessus readied Atalanta’s blow, a glass eye replacing the one he had lost; Agron looked almost giddy, while Thales fidgeted in place from anxiety; Rook wagged his tail in impatience, Sertorius remained an impassable statue, and Andromache carried herself with the majesty of an ancient, powerful witch.

Was a more dangerous party ever assembled since the Argonauts?

Maybe we are their successors, Kairos wondered as he glanced at Cassandra’s bident, which had once belonged to Jason of Iolcus. If Fate had a pattern that kept repeating itself, of sons overthrowing their fathers, then maybe his crew had been chosen to fulfill a role older than time. The actors changed, but the dance stayed the same. But we won’t end like them.

Orgonos and Prometheus had said as much. Destiny could change, and humans had free will. They weren’t bound to repeat past mistakes.

“Is everyone ready?” Kairos asked them one last time, everyone nodding at once. All of them carried supplies to last weeks.

“By now, you should know better than to ask,” Cassandra said with a smile. “I followed you to the ocean’s bottom, Kairos. I won’t turn back now.”

Rook nodded in appreciation. “I hate caves, but better buried than wet!”

“I feel this journey of ours escalated quite quickly from our friendly pirate adventures, but I did promise I would follow you to the Underworld if you asked,” Nessus added. “I’m ready and waiting.”

Then came Agron’s turn, but instead of offering words of encouragement, the minotaur shrugged, grabbed the ropes holding the [Telchine Skiff], and dragged it through the miasma gates.

“We haven’t even entered the dungeon, and someone already broke formation,” Sertorius observed with deadpan wit, while Julia clearly struggled not to laugh.

Thales looked at the group in confusion. “Do we… keep the walking order or…”

“Great, now I have to catch up to the bull!” Nessus complained while stepping through gates. Cassandra face-palmed and walked in afterward.

Actions spoke louder than words, indeed.

Kairos shook his head as the party’s members walked inside one after another, until he and Andromache closed the march.

“Are you sure you want to come?” Kairos whispered while glancing at her stomach. Andromache’s pregnancy was only four weeks in, according to Sertorius, so changes weren’t yet visible nor did impair her performances. And yet...

“Would you rather have me wait for titans to storm out of this mountain?” The nymph shrugged. “Our child will die if we fail, or suffer under the old gods’ yoke as I did. The best way to ensure her safety is to lend you my strength, my other half.”

Kairos nodded slowly, and both walked into the mist while Julia watched on in silence.

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As warned by Julia, adventurers had completely cleared the dungeon’s first level. After facing monsters and puzzles during their first dungeon-delving attempt, Kairos found this run refreshing.

But he could tell something had changed in the Necromanteion.

The air was thicker, more oppressive. An invisible presence weighed on the party’s shoulders as they carried the skiff all the way to the underground river linking the dungeon’s first floor to the second. A ghastly stone face of Thanatos oversaw the buried waterway, its eyes shining with a ghostly green aura.

Eyes that had remained shut on their first visit.

“He’s watching,” Nessus said, as the group climbed on the boat.

“I shared Orgonos’ blessing with everyone,” Kairos pointed out.

“It blocks divination, Kairos, but this?” Sertorius pointed at the stone face with his staff. “This is an [Idol].”

Andromache pointed her own scepter at Thanatos’ effigy and blasted it with a fireball. The flames licked the stone harmlessly. “Well, it was worth a try.” Nessus shrugged.

“It was a message,” the nymph replied angrily. For a second, she looked every bit like the hateful Scylla she had once been. “Thanatos has assisted Circe in her cruel schemes and now plots to bring her back. He deserves nothing but my contempt.”

“Is this revenge that motivates you?” Sertorius asked, though he didn’t sound like he cared for the answer. He was simply curious, like someone talking about the weather. “A grudge to settle?”

“No,” the witch replied while shaking her head. “It is justice. I do not want to let anyone else go through what I did, and no one will.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Sertorius replied.

“As if you could understand,” Andromache said as she followed him, a sneer on her face. “You don’t have feelings.”

“You are wrong. I simply don’t let them affect my judgment.”

“Will you support her cause though?” Kairos asked.

“Of course I will,” his brother-in-law replied without hesitation. “I will help her pass the sentence too.”

For the first time since they crossed paths, Andromache smirked at Sertorius; and not just for the wordplay.

Kairos had been wrong. He thought these two would be at odds, but a common foe did wonders for new friendships.

Once everyone had climbed on the skiff, Thales used a long rod to carry them down the current. The boat made no sound as it navigated the blackened waters, and Kairos stood at the ship’s front with his [Anemoi Spear] to sense the air ahead. He didn’t expect an obstacle yet—there were far better places for an ambush—but caution had never killed anyone.

The skiff glided down an endless cavernous waterway beneath a tall ceiling supported by obsidian pillars. The river went down ever so slightly, its waters as calm and silent as death. There was only darkness ahead, and dust to breath.

After a while though, Kairos noticed that the waterway corridor wasn’t a straight line; it instead coiled and swirled like an underground whirlpool digging ever below into the earth.

“How long is it?” Cassandra asked Thales, who had done the journey more than once.

“Almost one kilometer and a half,” the automaton replied. “I suspect a similar length separates each level.”

So the bottom reached five to six kilometers underground; to the very bowels of the Underworld.

And it showed. The deeper they descended the more the waters changed. First black and still, they grew more agitated with time. Kairos noticed forms under the surface, larger than fish, yet blurred and without substance.

“Kairos, look,” Rook pointed at one of them with his beak. For a brief instant, a white skull reflected below the surface before dissipating into nothingness.

“The shades of the dead.” Cassandra’s face turned pale, as the place disturbed her. “I was among them once.”

“I thought you lost your memories when you came back?” Sertorius asked. While the party was either confused or tense, he alone appeared as imperturbable as stone. Truth be told, Kairos was starting to find his serenity unnerving.

“How do you know that?” Cassandra asked with a frown.

“Lyce keeps records of cases such as yours,” the judge replied. “Resurrections, true resurrections, are extremely rare but not unheard of. Lycaon himself had that power.”

Kairos froze. “How so?”

“He is the god of murder. All of those who die by violent, dishonorable means fall under his purview, and sometimes he stays his hand; he was fond of reviving his victims and forcing them to serve him. Though I concede there hasn’t been a case since he was sealed.” Sertorius locked eyes with his brother-in-law, having read his mind. “I doubt Romulus is one such living revenant, but I can’t exclude the possibility either.”

“Are there other cases?” Nessus asked mirthfully. “Like Dionysus rising from the dead?”

“I have not heard of cases involving Dionysus.” Sertorius turned to the satyr with an indecipherable gaze. “Should I have?”

“We aren’t sure if Hypnos is alive or dead,” Nessus shrugged. “And we thought Medea was dead too.”

“In any case, I don’t remember this place,” Cassandra said. “But I feel I’ve been here before.”

“Could you recognize areas?” Agron asked with a cunning gaze. “If you traveled from the Underworld back to the surface, maybe you could recognize the way to the bottom.”

The more time Kairos spent around Agron, the more amazed he was by his insight. He had mistaken the minotaur for a brute, but his mind was as sharp as his axe.

“I can’t say,” Cassandra replied with a scowl. “Maybe?”

Soon after she said these words, the skiff finally reached the end of the spiraling waterway. The corridor opened into a vast, underground lake; but though the lighting was dim, it was not inexistent. Will’o wisps floated high above the waters, forming a night sky of ghostly flames; blue, red, green, dancing in an eternal motion.

The dark waters rippled as the skiff skidded on the lake’s surface, and Cassandra raised her bident to light the way better. A barren, rocky island appeared on the horizon, the stone walls of a fortified camp rising above its surface. Though Kairos could see the glow of torches coming from it, he didn’t notice any other boat traveling across the waters. The adventurers occupying the second level had retreated to their base, perhaps to avoid the fury of the dead.

Kairos instinctively looked at the supply bag on his back. Somehow, he imagined the tablet Orgonos gave him throbbing in anticipation, waiting to be broken. The god of magic had promised them their help, but only once they reached the bottom; and Kairos had the feeling they wouldn’t win without him.

But what had Orgonos promised Nessus?

Kairos glanced at the satyr, who looked at the waters with grim nonchalance. The immortal had never even hinted at his true identity in all his months of traveling with the Foresight’s crew, and yet he had blatantly done so with Sertorius. Why?

Because he didn’t care anymore. Because he thought it wouldn’t matter.

Nessus didn’t expect to survive the trip.

He didn’t intend to.

And Kairos had to change his mind.

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