Time passed by in a blur, as if he was in a trance he brought Malissa home, gave her a hug, said some words that pleased her, though he could not remember what these had been.
Afterwards, he walked the always familiar road back to his place.
He had never known just how pleasant the air on Elysium was. There was no fire, no goblin that had suicidal intentions. Everything had the smell of civilization and people.
It was an awful smell, but it was a refreshing smell after being in nature for the past three weeks. The streets, the people that looked at him weird, the buildings; it all filled him with a deep form of joy.
Finally, he was back in an environment where he could make some money.
Being in nature was great and all, but nothing said living the life, more than working yourself to the bone in the family dungeon killing Ballas till the sun went down and rose again in the morning.
He saw the godforsaken place, he called home from the far distant, still looking as shabby and rundown since the day he had left it behind. Though there were a lot more people walking past him or behind him
But Moros thought nothing of it, since there was no way all these people wanted to enter the shabby Terra dungeon.
He closed his eyes and simply walked close to the gate of the Terra family with all of his usual peace and calm.He was ready to feel the smell of Balla blood and dirt again, yet a wave of sweat and all sorts of other human flavours danced in his nose…causing Moros to open his eyes in sheer shock.
"Why were so many people here?"
The question was not something Moros could fathom, the thought that the Terra dungeon could be popular was never something that he thought possible. It had Balls and more Ballas, that was all that it had inside of it.
Something must have changed.
With a quick step Moros walked past the horde of magicians that stood in a row waiting for their permission to enter the dungeon. All of their gazes seemed hopeful and excitement, a fact, which caused Moros brain to question just what had gone down in the time of his absence.
"HEY, YOU DUMB JERK, WHY ARE YOU CUTTING IN LINE, THINKING YOU ARE SOMEONE SPECIAL, HUH?"
A woman chimed in loudly, clearly grinding Moros' gears. Yet, he kept quiet and simply ignored the yelling woman and her bad takes.
He was the legal guardian of his place. It was only natural that he had the right to enter before this entire crowd. His head would roll if things were not okay…not hers, even though Moros would love to offer hers instead.
"I AM TALKING TO YOU! PEOPLE, THIS MISTER THINKS HIMSELF TO BE OH-SO-IMPORTANT THAT HE CAN JUST PUT HIS LITTLE ASS IN FRONT OF THE LINE!"
Moros began to burn on his inside. Could this lady not behave for one second, was she not aware about his role? Was she perhaps someone important?
He laughed at the thought, nobody important would come here past the age of 5.
At most, it was her mental age or the amount of kids she had for breakfast. She was not worth the time and energy to explain to her why he was allowed to do the things that he did.
Yet, a broad burly man in his thirties, blocked Moros path, giving him the meanest stare he could muster. Trying to scare him away, while it just looked like he was holding in the biggest, wet fart imaginable.
With his usual expertise, Moros simply side-stepped him and went on his way. Who did bro think he was?
More and more people took notice of Moros bypassing the waiting crowd.
Resulting in Moros receiving more complaints and all sorts of insults thrown in his face. With a grin he tried to endure.
"These are paying customers, these are paying customers!"
Said phrase was repeated inside his mind like a mantra, over and over again. Enduring the stupidity of the paying crowd was necessary, but it was not an easy task.
Maros' goodwill and customary satisfaction were interpreted as a sign of weakness, the crowd split and surrounded him, hurling insults and screaming out their frustration.
With a practised smile, the guardian of the dungeon stopped in his tracks and was ready to convince the angry crowd that he was responsible for the dungeon before them
"Dear visitors of this dungeon, I am the guardian of this fine establishment.
A bow was extended, basic respect and courtesy given to the people that Moros only valued for their money.
"I merely wish to see for myself how the business is currently fairing, after all I wish for you to enjoy your stay here."
Silence fell over the room, before people began to laugh out loudly, looking at Moros as if he had just cracked the best joke in the world.
The laughter continued for a while and Moros continued to smile as if he did not want to murder them on the spot. Earning money was proving to be quite the feat of endurance this time around.
Even the rich kids usually had more manners than this gathering of magicians here.
He…he…he thinks he is the guardian of the dungeon…" spoke a man with his head facing the floor, not capable of stopping his laughter.
"There is really someone willing to act like he is Moros Terra…bro, this is a joke, right?"
"Did that poor bloke lose a bet? That evil bastard that put him up for something like this!"
Moros heard the murmur of the people around him and felt his mouth twitching. Interesting that is what people thought of him, how noticeably different to what people usually liked to say to his face.
He knew his reputation was not the best, but seeing the people thinking so little of him did hurt his pride a little. Inside, he swore to extract even more money out of him. He called it compensation for the hurt feelings.
Every breath cost him a dollar, so these people needed to pay up for wasting his time.
To add insult to injury a man a head taller, with his belly poking out beneath his shirt passed through the crowd and approached the situation with his head held high.
He looked like he did not take a shower for several days and smelled like that too. He was about as tall as Moros and looked like Dion had done a diet of fast food and other snacks.
Blond hair, way too large of a nose, brown eyes and a triple chin. He was what Moros liked to call three customers in one.
Mr shortened life expectancy opened his mouth and prompted everyone into silence with just his presence alone:
" I am MOROS Terra, the guardian of this dungeon…What is this commotion?"
Moros looked at his double in question and wondered, whom he had offended to get a bad doppelganger like that. They couldn't have done him any worse than he had tried.
This Moros was known for his signature attack─the heart attack.
The real one could only sigh and wonder about the situation that lead to another bad clone of his to take over his duties.
"Moros my brother from another mother, could you lead me into the dungeon? I am certain there is a lot we have to talk about, given how new you are to your job!"
Moros, the real one, was burning on the inside, but he tried his best to channel his anger into a productive direction. In the sense of how to productively insert his fist into the newfound 'friend'
Fake Moros was,however, not the quickest on the uptake and continued to spew the brainless dialogue that he was paid for.
" I am MOROS TERRA, the guardian of the dungeon. My word is the law here. Please stand in the line, so each and everyone pays the same share and can enjoy the dungeon to their heart's content"
Moros felt his stomach revolting, puke was travelling upwards. His patience was tested to the core.
Mustering the last bits of his remaining self-control, he walked towards Moros, teeth flinched and put his arm around his shoulders.
The crowd saw the scene of camaraderie and were confused…Moros had friends? Such a thing was unheard off? Why did the guardian of the Dungeon not send the fake one away?
However, they did not hear the words that were whispered between the two.
"Hey buddy, I know that you are not the real one…" his voice was barely heard at this point.
The other, copycat tried to protest weakly, but Moros stomped on his feet, breaking it.
"Did I tell you to speak?"
He shook his head, biting his teeth, careful not to let out any sound.
"You are a good boy. Now let me to the one that put you up to this whole thing and don't you dare think about telling anyone else about this…otherwise a broken foot will be the least of your worries."
To emphasise his point, Moros stomped on his foot again, driving all his weight onto it again.
Tears welled up on the fake, fat Moros. He was just paid to do this, why did he have to meet such a madman. Fearing for his life, he only did the next logical thing and decided to lead the guy before him to his boss.
Who knew, what else would happen to him if he did not…
Moros had a creepy grin on his face…as he followed the "guardian of the Terra family"
He could hardly wait to talk to the one, who put this lovely big-boned fella in charge of the dungeon. Nobody could rip Moros off of his money and could live to tell the tale.
The real one just wanted to have a long talk about the situation…and maybe, just maybe, convince the person behind this to stop breathing.