'I have a secret.'

"Donbar! Quickly! Bring him over here." A high pitched voice. An Elf perhaps? It's hard to tell when half your face is smashed in.

"They're still coming. I can only do so much to keep those Gang Rats at bay." A lovely baritone. It had a heady, sensual flavor. Could this be yet another handsome woman?

"Don't worry lad. Donbar has ye." He sounded gruff and burly. But his age remained a mystery.

'A secret I have shared on more than one occasion. And yet I alone know the truth. Unless you count the dead.'

Steely hands grasped my feet and upper back. Donbar carried me up, as one would carry a child.

He exercised the utmost care because his eyes told him that the boy he cradled was grievously injured.

Indeed, my left arm hung at a ludicrous angle. And a slash, two fingers deep, gaped at the center of my right thigh... not to mention the fact that one side of my face appeared to have melted under the pressure of some unseen force.

So by his estimation, it would not be long before I died.

'But looks can be deceiving.'

"It's gonna be alright. Just hold on. Princess Mei can do miracles."

He continued to encourage me with soft, tempered whispers.

I felt his fear. Not for his own sake, but for the lives of his companions and... there was also a hint of pity. Could it be for little, old me?

"Hurry Princess! He's hanging on by a thread!"

Between hazy eyes, I spied a silver circlet. Beneath it lay a tranquil beauty, besmirched with concern. She was certainly a human female.

Surprise greeted my lips. A trembling sensation that could easily be mistaken for tremendous pain.

"Fret not! You're in the best of care!" The Dwarf held my hand. An oddly feminine gesture.

Was she not Elven? I was rarely mistaken. For humans are not often seen traversing the Gilded Tower.

She must be something special.

The Dwarf's thick neck twisted to the right. "Princess! Now is not the time to dawdle!"

"I'm trying." She said, with her hands held out. A ball of glowing light spread outwards from her fingertips.

A moment passed before her brow was creased by mounting vexation.

"Dammit! It's not working Princess!" Donbar could not hide his own exasperation.

I decided to take a moment to observe these two, as they fussed over me.

Donbar is a dwarf of indeterminable age. He had thin, trembling lips, a long, quivering, charcoal-textured beard. A mustache of absurd proportions. As well as a warm, angst-filled smile.

"Princess! You must expend all your mana! Or he will surely die!"

'Did I forget to mention his unrestrained tongue?'

The Princess had a high nose and a gentle chin. She was undeniably human but I sense traces of a different origin. She may have Elvish blood. Or something else entirely.

"I know that!" Beads of sweat gathered upon her forehead. Just then her voice had taken on a shrill nature. So it seemed doubt had finally broken through her confident facade.

As I pondered the question of her ancestry, the wound in my thigh began to close up. My squished eyeball returned to it's usual buoyancy. The blood that coated me from head to toe, drained back into my skin, revitalizing pale flesh. The garbled half of my face was restructured, and now bore its usual, lack luster symmetry.

"It's working! Thank the stars!"

'How silly.'

Healing magic is only effective when dispelling injury. And in the four hundred years of my existence, I have never felt affliction... at least, not my own.

"T-thank you." I muttered.

The human Princess had a sprite-like smile. Her momentary joy, a powerful emotion, flooded my chest. I moaned in pleasure, but they took it for pain.

"He's still weak Donbar, let him rest." She instructed, as the Dwarf lay my frail physique on a makeshift pallet. "Ophelia! How have you fared?"

I craned my neck to view the opposing direction.

"I beat them back. We should be safe now. I advise we rest for the night before we continue." She steadily approached, her eyes widened as they beheld my still form.

'Humans are indeed rare.'

The creature that stood above me, bore the face of a human female. Yet cropping out from beneath her chainmail was a short, stubby tail speckled with horns. Her hands and feet were claw-tipped, lizard-like mandibles.

I marveled at her. That scaly, green skin was unlike anything I had ever seen.

'I wonder what sort of emotions this creature can exhibit?'

---

The Dwarf, the Human Princess and the Lizard Woman gathered round a small fire. I pretended to sleep as I eavesdropped on their conversation.

"I think he'll pull through. He's a tough one. He would have already succumbed to those terrible wounds if he wasn't." Donbar mused.

"How do you suppose he made it this far?" Ophelia questioned.

"An adventurer party. Much like our own." Mei supplied.

A moment of silence briefly took hold.

"Do you think... he's the only one left?" Ophelia's voice was hollow.

"There is no other explanation." Mei continued. "Since there's no way a solo adventurer could make it to the ninth floor."

"Aye." Donbar concurred. "I agree with the Princess. I ne'er seen someone as unlucky as that fella. He has no gear and he likely tried to run past the Minotaur guarding the gate to the tenth. That no doubt left him with that nasty gash we saw on his leg."

"Hmm... what do you think his level is?" Ophelia's tone was a weary one. "Could he have used his comrades as bait and made his escape?"

"Why are you always like that?" Mei complained. "You choose to see the worst in people."

"Forgive me Mei. Hope is a luxury I've never been able to afford."

"I'm not hoping for the best! Given the right conditions any man can become a hero."

"Haha!" Donbar's bitter laugh echoed into the distance. "And in the wrong conditions any man could become a villain!"

"Hmph. I think he is just as he seems. A desperate survivor that had lost his companions to this awful dungeon." Mei felt scorned.

"Will he journey with us?" Ophelia ventured. "Malachi awaits us at the entrance of the tenth floor. We can't escort the Stranger all the way down to the exit unless permitted."

"I-I think Malachi will be gracious enough to allow us to escort him back."

"What!?" Donbar couldn't believe his ears. "Malachi paid a hefty price for a four-member adventurer team to rendezvous with him on the tenth floor. If only three show up with an injured stranger, asking to go back, how would he react?"

"With kindness I'm sure." Mei insisted.

"More like apprehension." Ophelia argued. "We might end up losing this job... and I doubt he would settle for three helping hands when he paid for four."

"We may have lost our vanguard, but we still have our healer." Donbar still held hope.

"Malachi may desire an escort to exit the Tower. If our injured friend recovers we would once again be a four-man team." Ophelia was clutching at straws.

"Would he form a party with members so much weaker than himself?" Mei's words were tinged with guilt. "He made it to the tenth floor alone. And we know nothing about this Stranger. Can he even fight? We would only burden Malachi if he chose to return to Laconta... but I'm sure we are the sort of burden he would gladly accept."

Donbar grunted. "And the money he spent? What makes you think he would be so generous?"

"He is a hero. It is in his nature to help the meek in their time of need." Mei possessed a virtuous image of their benefactor.

"We are not hapless villagers. We should return the down payment we received." A jingling sound could be heard from where Ophelia sat. "I have Walter's share here. If we scavenge his remains on the way down, we may have enough to compensate him."

"I for one want to get out of this foul dungeon." Donbar's words had an unmistakable air of resignation.

"It's settled then. We will do our best to repay Malachi and request his aid so that we can leave this dreadful tower in peace." Mei had not so much made a decision, as she had spoke the truth they held within their hearts. Their adventure would soon come to a close. Or so, they believed.

---

"Wake up lad. We plan to set off soon."

Donbar yanked me to my feet. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and gazed at last night's messy encampment. Pots and pans were strewn about amidst rolls of thick cloth that served as sleeping bags or sack cloth depending on the present need. I glanced curiously at Mei, who refilled empty potions with a colorful mixture she gleaned from an assortment of mystic vials.

I could not guess the time of day, for the eerie inner glow of the Gilded Tower did not spring from the light of torches or sun-lit windows. Rather the air itself seemed awash with a magical radiance that grew during the day and declined at night.

I dusted off my boots and clasped on a padded coat that Mei, who had paused her alchemic activity, handed over to me with a sad smile on her face.

That raiment must have belonged to their former companion.

I could not place Ophelia, so it seems she had gone on ahead of us to scout the surroundings.

"Your name boy. What is it?" Donbar wore a courageous smile. Perhaps he thought that bravery might be contagious.

'Lazarus, the Undying One.'

"Kobo, the Fleet Foot." I replied.

He slid on a dented helmet that had a pair of silver angel wings on either side.

"The Fleet Foot huh? Well, you must be pretty fast Kobo, if you made it past the Minotaur. Say you... what floor were you on before your party was... lost?" Donbar combed his scraggly beard with his fingertips. Flecks of Lint and gobs of dry blood flew off with each stroke.

"We had made it to the eleventh floor. My comrades fought bravely. But we could not subdue the host of Lamia that beset us. I was... the only survivor."

Donbar's thick hand slammed my back. "There's no shame in that. Surviving is the natural answer to human instinct. You were born to live so how could you regret doing so?"

"I-I suppose you are right." Those meek words held an element of truth.

'I regret not killing them myself. Their wild screams were suffused with such sweet agony.'

Donbar stretched his back out and fiddled with a contraption on his right arm before gripping a spiked mace with a practiced swing.

"What is that?" I said, pointing to the device strapped to his arm.

"A crossbow." Donbar answered, as a mischievous grin slowly took form. "No one ever expects a warrior to wield a bow."

The crossbow seemed to be in miniature so I doubted its effectiveness, until Donbar shot at a stone pillar. The bolt was the length of one hand span but it sunk all the way in with devastating ease.

'If I were hit by such a projectile, it might just tickle me.'

I turned to the so-called Healer of their party.

"I know a variety of healing and physical enhancement spells, but I also work well with short swords." Mei said, preempting my question, as her eyes flicked towards the scabbard on her hip. "What about you Kobo? Can you handle yourself in a fight? And do you have a preferred weapon?"

'Tooth and Nail.'

"I have some experience in combat. I prefer action at close-quarters. A short saber or a dagger would suit me best."

"Oh-ho! He has some confidence. It seems your magic can heal not just flesh and blood, but the heart and soul also!" Donbar was in high spirits.

Ophelia returned shortly. "The path is clear. Only the Minotaur stands in our way but..." her voice trailed off.

"Is something wrong Ophelia?" Mei noticed her discomfort and began to mirror her hesitation.

"The Minotaur has a large wound across its chest. Although it does not appear enraged. Its current condition does not match the Guild's report. If the situation has changed, I'm afraid it might not accept our toll."

'That's no surprise. It was just yesterday when I taught that impertinent fool a lesson.'

"Do you think we will have to fight it?" Donbar's auspicious mood quickly sank.

"I'm afraid so. Although a single gold coin was all it required to appease the beast in the past, we should be prepared to offer more or even flee if its anger flairs up."

"How much can we muster?" Mei had a hopeful look.

"The equivalent of three gold coins." Donbar answered. "Add one silver if we give up our weapons."

"There's no way I'm giving up my weapon!" Ophelia held a two-pronged staff with strange affection.

'Is that a farmer's pitchfork? What value could that shit shoveler possibly have?'

"You don't have to pay my toll fee." I interceded. "Let me stay on this floor and await your return."-

"It's too dangerous! The Gang Rats might come back at any moment!" Mei showed genuine concern for someone she just met.

"Gang Rats?" I wondered aloud.

'Lesser beasts and weak monsters have a tendency to flee even when I approach from a great distance. Those Gang Rats must have excellent instincts, for I have never even laid my eyes on one.'

"They resemble humanoid rats that walk upright." Ophelia explained. "Each is adorned with bronze armor and one may strike with either their front claws or their spiked tail. You are fortunate to have never encountered one."

I feigned a look of horror. "What should we do?"

"Pay the toll. Whatever the cost." Donbar's lips flared with evident displeasure.

"But just in case." Mei removed a dagger from her vestment and presented its hilt to me.

I received it with a grateful nod.

'I can use this to pick my teeth.'

---

We had walked in silence for some time. An hour, maybe two. It was hard to tell.

A flight of stairs marked the beginning of the next floor. And as we ascended, we caught glimpses of the Minotaur pacing to and fro. It had a bull's head, adorned with wide-angled horns. A muscled torso that was distinctly human yet unusually hirsute. And hooved feet that produced a loud 'clop' sound with each step it made on the cobblestone surface of the tenth floor.

None had failed to notice the pale, white scar that marked the beast from hip to sternum.

Ophelia raised a hand to halt us. Her scaled feet were bare and made hardly a sound as she carefully tread forward.

I sensed the delicious fear of my teammates. It was an invigorating sensation that sent a shiver down my spine.

The Minotaur sniffed the air for a moment, took note of our approach, and made its retreat to the arched gate where it picked up a large double-headed axe.

The gate to the tenth floor had no portcullis. So any that dared could attempt to dart past the gatekeeper.

Ophelia unfastened a pouch from her belt and retrieved a single gold coin. She held up our offering.

We were more than a stone throw away, such that the coin would appear as little more than a speck in the distance. And yet the Minotaur nodded and stepped aside.

With our passage granted, Ophelia, Mei and Donbar strode forward. Each frightful step brought them closer to the gate.

I waited.

My new companions had nigh entered the gate when Mei turned around and gasped. Donbar and Ophelia quickly followed suit.

The Minotaur dipped its head low, patiently awaiting our departure.

Mei waved her hands frantically.

I took several steps forward in response.

Mei smiled encouragingly while Ophelia and Donbar gawked at my apparent cowardice.

Again I drew closer and stopped.

The Minotaur stood stock still with its eyes closed.

Mei had calmed somewhat and continued to beckon me forward with a steady slew of energetic hand signals.

I moved forward once more and only stopped when the Minotaur hefted its axe to one shoulder and turned to face me.

Even though my present form differed greatly from our last encounter, the Minotaur had not forgotten the scar I had given him.

'Should I kill him? Or make a run for it?'

I was loath to exhibit superhuman speed or an unexpected feat of strength. If I did, my freshly acquired companions would be on guard, and may even question the veracity of the unfortunate tale I had spun for them.

Although I stood far off, to me, Donbar's fear was palpable.

Cautiously, I edged onward, each step lighter than the last. My companions moved past the Minotaur to the other side of the gate. They still looked upon me with anxious anticipation, but it seemed they were ready to put their faith in 'Kobo, the Fleet Foot'.

I was about twenty steps from the arched doorway when the Minotaur suddenly swung its head backwards and let out a monstrous roar.

Donbar took swift aim and shot a bolt at the back of the beast's calf. A deep growl was followed by the sound of crushed stone.

The Minotaur had been brought down to one knee.

I let out an inadvertent whistle.

Truly, Donbar had a heart of gold.

I dashed to the gate, making sure to keep my pace within the upper limits of human speed.

The Minotaur was enraged. Unable to stand, the beast swung its great axe with just one outstretched arm, in an attempt to cleave me in two.

In my distorted perception of time, the arcing swing appeared achingly slow. But to my companions, it was a blurred motion of such terrible force it generated a gust of wind that sent them into a panicked frenzy.

I allowed the swing to cut into my shoulder, deep enough to leave a lasting mark, as I raced through the gate.

The Minotaur wrapped its meaty fingers on the hilt of the blood-soaked arrow bolt and ripped it out.

As a gruesome howl reached my ears, his mad agony touched my heart.

And as I ran, together with my companions, tears of joy streaked down my face.

---