“That—” I say, “—is an excellent question. You just stay close and shine bright, okay?” Releasing his hand, I pull my sword free of my backpack and let a rain of magic sparks illuminate the darkness writhing with monsters ahead of what Samson’s glow ring can reach. “There are seven rooms, starting here, in the red room.”
Cussing, Samson draws his sword as the mass of monsters creep forward from the mouth of the cloud cave.
“In case you were wondering, it’s red for a reason.”
“Citrus,” he hisses.
“Don’t worry. I know this place by heart. Every enemy and every puzzle. I’m also on an adrenaline high, thinking about the Cosmic Mines and dear sweet puppies in our future.”
“Just…be careful.”
I laugh, and then I sweep forward, into the fray.
~ ~
“For the record—” Samson’s breaths saw in and out of his lungs, which is funny, because he’s mostly stood behind me and stressed while I cut my way through all the monsters—including a Terror-pin boss, just now, giant turtle, impenetrable shell,no biiig. “—I hated every moment of this.”
Merrily, I place the gemstones received in each room prior into the proper position on a panel beside a violet door—ruby, citrine, topaz, emerald, sapphire, lapis. It’s a lovely rainbow. So on brand, given the clouds and the sky themes. How wonderful for morale.
As the lapis slots into place, the door faintly glows and eases open, just like all the doors before, but this time I put my sword in my bag.
“Citrus, what are you doing?” Samson’s anxiety-ridden presence congests the entirety of the dungeon.
“What?Nothing.” I throw open my arms. “Yami! Tsuki!”
From the pitch darkness beyond Samson’s glow ring, streaks of fluffy black and white cloud emerge—to tackle me.
A strangled sound leaves Samson’s mouth as I hit the—thankfully plush—cloud-like ground with an explosion of laughter.
Thisis joy.
Thisis happiness.
The cure for depression, cancer, I don’t know, you name it.
“Not my face! Noo. My glasses.” Knocked off, my glasses fall a safe distance away from the fuzzy cuddle pile. Long fur and tongues. I squeal, nuzzling soft faces, cold noses, puppy ears. “Who’s a good puppy?You?” I gasp. “Correct!” My baby voice would be embarrassing if it weren’t a universally accepted behavior—in every world, logically.
Voice stretched as taut as a snapping guitar string, Samson says, “Citrus,these aren’t puppies,these are wolves.”
“Big, fluffy puppies!” I bury my face in Yami’s—the giant black wolf’s—silken coat. I donot“um, actually” Samson and clarify that mybig fluffy puppiesaretechnicallymythic beasts, not “wolves,” and the creators of the Sky Dungeon itself.
It’s theorized that their previous master was a rare giftedandblessed adventurer who took his puppies with him to allsorts of other hidden dungeons filled with puzzles. Whenever he passed away, his beloved babies took to their skies and built a test, honoring their memory of him in order to search for a new owner—which, yes, involved both puppy magic and kidnapping monsters for their dungeon rooms.
Did I mention that mythic beasts possess magic?
I’m sure Samson won’t mind.
After all, the description when you find them in the game is:Aw, looks like these two just wanted to play.
I approve.
I also approve of the fact my dear sweet angel puppies sit, panting and staring at Samson with their blue and yellow eyes as he oh-so-carefully retrieves my glasses from the ground and returns them to my face.
He meets the white wolf’s blue eyes. “So…this is…”
“Tsuki. It means moon in a language from my world.”
His attention shifts to the black wolf. “And Yami means?”
