Chapter 103
Even though she’d heard that the information about multiple Ellens was public, Whisper hadn’t been absolutely free of nervousness walking toward the inn. None of them had heard anything from the village in the last few days… not even adventurers leaving for the city. They hadn’t run into any of them on the road—aside from Dungeon Ellen—so they didn’t have any clue what the situation was.
She needn’t have worried. With so many adventurers staying in the village, several were bound to know Uncle Anroll by reputation or even having met him. As soon as he’d been recognized, he’d been swarmed with attention and had allowed the trio of Ellens to slip away and meet up at the Treetop Inn.
“Welcome to… oh!” Village stopped mid-greeting as Whisper stepped in and gave her a nod… then a stare.
“What happened to you?” Stage blurted from behind Whisper, echoing the thought.
Village didn’t look terribly beat up or anything, but she was walking with a cane and a pronounced limp. Her cheek was slightly swollen on one side, as if bruised, though when she turned aside it was to try hiding the blood she spit into the cup beside her. With how fast she healed, the injuries had to be either severe or very recent.
“Don’t worry,” the werewolf reassured. “I’m almost fully healed. Some of the bones need to realign, and I’m still growing back the last of my teeth. I just had a little argument with one of the adventurers outside, but they’re all under control now.”
She started to smile… then froze as Dungeon Ellen timidly stepped in, trying to remain inconspicuous. It didn’t work very well, as Village’s eyes locked on the not-quite-Ellen and held, though she didn’t say anything aloud. Her silent question was one that Whisper picked up despite her distance from Village Ellen’s lineage.
“We know,” Whisper reassured quickly. “It’s a long story. We’ll take her up to Onroc and have Merchant and Bookkeeper take a look.”
Dungeon gave a meek smile back, then slumped into a chair with a loud groan. “Ohhhh… it feels good to not be starving. Food is okay but the mana here is a relief,” she sprawled her arms to either side and tucked her head back, staring at the ceiling.
“Tobias, could you please step into the back for a few moments?” Village asked, rubbing her swollen cheek. “I’m not sure you’d want to hear some of the things we’re going to talk about.”
The innkeeper, who until now had just been cleaning up the shelves, gave her an odd look. “With how much you do tell me, it must be something serious. I’ll see if the missus needs a hand, all right? Try not to break anything else.”
Village winced, but nodded as Tobias stepped away, leaving a thankfully empty room. “We won’t have too much time,” she informed, frowning. “It’s rare that we’re completely empty these days, so make it quick. Where did this Ellen come from?”
Now it was Whisper’s turn to wince. “She’s the dungeon. Or, well… a creation of the dungeon. We’re calling her Dungeon Ellen even though she isn’t really an Ellen like we are. She just looks like one of us.”
“And acts a lot like us, really,” Stage pointed out with a worried glance toward Dungeon. “She doesn’t know what we know, but the way she talks and acts is pretty similar. I’m not sure why.”
“When a dungeon creates something like me, it has to get a personality from somewhere,” Dungeon replied without moving her head. “You’re the ones that have the most interaction with the dungeon. I couldn’t disobey, but when it wasn’t controlling me I had to do something. It understands enough about humans to know that it’d be suspicious if I just stood around when it wasn’t paying attention, and it can’t control anything directly if the monster is outside its domain anyway.”
“And you’re the monster,” Village noted with a sniff. “Why come here? Isn’t it dangerous for you here? With all the adventurers and… us?”
The false-Ellen tilted her head up and squinted at Village. “If you were going to do something, these two would have. Whisper is more of a killer than you I think, even if you’re… something else.” She scratched at her head. “It is dangerous though. All the adventurers, sure. And if I go into the dungeon it will probably try to take me back. It took almost all my power just to cut the bond between us… I won’t be able to do it a second time.”
She gestured all around her. “But it takes an awful lot of mana to keep me moving! I don’t know a lot of places that I can just get it from the air. I think I could probably pull it from people—I’ve done that—but it usually kills them and that would be bad. Humans don’t like it when other humans die, right?”
Immediately, Whisper moved her concern up a few notches. This Ellen had been friendly on the trip, but she’d never said enough to let Whisper know she thought that way. It made sense that a monster wouldn’t have the same morals… they were lucky she at least viewed the idea as being dangerous for her.
Should she even call Dungeon Ellen an Ellen? Why was she willing to do this, when the copy had outright admitted it was a copy? That seemed strange to her, and her apprehension rose higher… right up until Village started talking again.
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” the werewolf stated with a quiet tut. “You clearly only know a little bit about how to be an Ellen. If you’re going to stay here and look like us, you need to understand us.”
Whisper almost raised an objection… then she stopped herself. Instead, she explained things to the baffled-looking Dungeon Ellen. “Ellens have long had to deal with people who look just like them appearing. You aren’t from the same origin, but I think it’s just in the nature of Ellens to try to help other Ellens. Even if you weren’t originally an Ellen.”
Dungeon stared at Whisper for a second before nodding. Apparently she had a lot of mannerisms, even without full understanding of what it meant to be human. Whisper found that pretty odd, so she made a mental note to corner a mage about it. Maybe she could hunt down Gaspar if she could get a message to the Academy.
“If you have some way of helping out in Onroc, it will help a lot,” Village pointed out. “They’re growing fast up there. The entire Adventuring Party died earlier when they cut off the mana plume from the dungeon, so we have a lot more Ellens now, even with Hunter and Cobbler out. You might have run into them, they’re on their way to-”
“THEY WHAT?!”
Whisper didn’t even realize she’d raised her voice that much, and a small part of her was relieved to hear Stage had screamed at the same time. Even Dungeon flinched, and Tobias peeked out from the back. He quickly decided that this was not something he wanted to know more about, and vanished into the kitchen again.
Village took a step back at the shouted words, her eyes moving between the other Ellens in confusion. “They reclaimed the mana plume, I don’t see what the problem is.” She picked up her cane and pushed herself back to her feet. “Smith was going to make some magic items for our birthday, I think. I’m not sure she’ll make it in time, with only a few days left.”
Leaping to her feet, Stage looked toward Whisper. “We have to warn them. We need to get up to Onroc now!”
Surprisingly, it was Dungeon who spoke more quietly. “The reason they are worried is because they believe the dungeon was feeding off the mana plume, and that this will cause it to surge out. It took me some time, but I think I understand what the mana plume is, and they’re right it’s dangerous. They’re just wrong about how it works, if I remember what it is correctly.”
Whisper raised her hands to get every Ellen’s attention. “Please calm down. It’s been like this for a little while at least, we can take our time to tell Uncle Anroll where we’re going and why.”
As if summoned by her concerns, the door opened in that moment. Anroll’s grumpy scowl swept over the room, and upon seeing it was only Ellens he nudged the door closed. “Right, I suppose we should head up to the rest of them. Do I want to know how many there are now? Village, are you all right?”
The question was waved away by Village as Dungeon just… kept talking. She didn’t even pause to say hello to Anroll.
“You keep describing it like the dungeon is eating from this plume thing,” she continued. “That isn’t right. I don’t remember everything because a lot of what the dungeon thought isn’t… like how I think now. I think I am more like a human so the memories get all jumbled. I do remember something like that, and the dungeon does feed on it, but it is spreading it out when it takes it in.”
She clenched her hands together to demonstrate her next point. “If you stop the dungeon from using it, the whole thing will start building up. But I know an easy way to stop it, if this Smith Ellen you mentioned is using it to make things. I know what that is. That’s like how the dungeon makes the bait.”
“What did I walk into?” Anroll asked, staring at Dungeon Ellen. “Bait? You mean… loot? The items that drop?”
Dungeon looked annoyed for a second, then shrugged. “Yes, whatever you call it. The coins and things created, they help bring humans like you and the Greylans in. Then we feed on how the mana is used.”
Whisper quickly squeezed Stage’s shoulder so the other Ellen wouldn’t correct Dungeon’s slip. That wasn’t important right now. The information was too valuable.
Unfortunately, Dungeon was at the limit of what she knew. “It’s hard for me to explain it, most of what I remember is more like how the dungeon felt.” She shrugged and spread her hands in an exaggerated gesture. “It’s much smarter than you humans seem to think, but the things it thinks about are very different.“
Abruptly Village lifted a hand. “Shh. Someone is coming!”
Everyone quieted, though Whisper couldn’t hear a thing. Those enhanced senses were a little creepy. Everyone trusted Village though… and sure enough, within a few moments the back door opened.
A bearded man, fit but older than most, strolled in with a groan, wearing a similar robe to Gaspar. The mage let out a tired sigh before complaining loudly, “The mana levels here are all over the place even with the dungeon closed.”
Then he halted dead in his tracks as he saw everyone here.
Anroll’s spear was already in his hand, the seasoned Gold Rank adventurer whipping it forward to level the tip toward the newcomer. He chuckled softly, “Theodore Braxton. It’s been a while, how have you been, old man?”
By the time the words are out of Anroll’s mouth, the mage had lowered his stance and lifted both hands, each one pulsing with a near visible thrum of mana. His lips curled into a smirk, and his eyes weren’t even bothering to look at any of the Ellens, real or fake.
“Anroll Greylan,” he muttered. “How’s the familicide business?”