“Did you ever think that something like this could exist?” Mirryn asked Donnelan as he joined her.
“Absolutely not,” he answered flatly. “I’d heard the stories, same as anyone, cities, even entire countries in the Dungeon, but I never believed it.”
Even though she was looking at it, Mirryn still thought it was impossible.
It was a city.
In the Dungeon.
They were inside a vast, egg-shaped cavern of impossible size, kilometres across and many more high, filled with people. Buildings covered the bottom of the cavern and then extended up the walls, carved into the rock face. A gigantic glowstone at the top of the space provided illumination during the day and faded at night, regulating the time for the thousands of citizens here in Rylleh.
Through some mechanism she couldn’t imagine, the cavernous space managed to keep the Dungeon veins out. There was no risk of monsters spawning within the city itself. Such safety within the Dungeon felt weird to her. She’d spent every moment underground up to this point being completely alert. To be this relaxed down here felt… unnatural.
From her vantage point, Mirryn could see the city bustling with activity at all hours, the people moving like ants in the cramped streets below. Even now the light of thousands of lamps lit the city in the evening hours like a sea of candles in the darkness. It was incredible.
The Legion headquarters was about halfway up, a citadel that occupied a position of great standing, looking down over the rest of the city. She hadn’t been able to explore much yet, the trainees were basically confined to recovery. Not the trainees, actually… full Legionaries now.
Mirryn had longed for that for so long…
“How’s your hand?” Donnelan asked.
She glanced down at the heavy bandages that wrapped her forearms all the way to the tip of her fingers.
“Better,” she said. “They’ve been healed but they’re worried about damage to the bone, so I’ll be under wraps for a few days yet.”
Donnelan’s expression twisted a little. Unable to contain his curiosity he eventually asked, “Is it true how they got injured?”
“What did you hear?”
“That you punched the commander in the face.”
Mirryn shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably. “It’s true.”
Donnelan whistled his appreciation. “I can’t… I cannot even imagine it. Did he say anything?”
He hadn’t. The commander had visited each trainee personally upon their wakening. When she’d finally opened her eyes and got her bearings, he’d already been there. He didn’t explain or justify. He just sat there. On seeing the man she’d trusted so much, almost like a father, who had done such an unspeakable thing to her and her friends… she’d lost it. Rage and fury had exploded in her.
She’d been able to contain it at first. What would be the point of hitting him?
When she asked how many died and he told her, she’d leapt out of the bed and punched him right in the face with both hands. He hadn’t resisted in any way. Willingly accepting her strikes. The end result was she broke both fists. She didn’t think the commander even moved.
She’d spoken with some of her fellow trainees, especially Donnelan. There were feelings of anger, of betrayal and fear. Fear of the pain that kept them awake at night, fear of the never-ending horror of it, and deep down, fear that the Legion was right.
They could feel it now. Ever since they’d awoken, they could tell something was different. Their bodies were absorbing Mana out of the air, breathing it in and out through their pores. Mirryn felt stronger, healthier, her mind moved quicker and with greater agility.
They hadn’t even begun training or using their new bodies yet, but they could already tell they had been fundamentally changed. She didn’t think it would end with just this either, she thought there would be more secrets to come.
She knew her officers were good people. The impression she had of them from years of living alongside them wasn’t wrong. They were indeed the kind of hard-line, duty-bound hardheads that would put people they cared about through such torment, so long as they had good reason to.
The torment was over, but Mirryn was afraid to find out why it was necessary.
The Legion had done this for thousands of years. Why? What exactly were they fighting down here?
She turned back to Donnelan. “When do you think they’ll let us out and into the city?”
He smiled. “Hopefully soon. After everything that’s happened, I could do with some leave. A few refreshments wouldn’t go astray.”
Mirryn shook her head. “A whole new world to explore down here and the only thing you care about is getting drunk?”
“Yes.”
After a pause, they both laughed and turned back to the city spread below them. Growing up in an undeveloped frontier country like Liria had stunted them in many ways. They’d very rarely met members of the other races, didn’t come into contact with the rare and powerful artefacts of the old empires. The frontier nations had been established on lands nobody wanted, by people with the grit to try and carve out a new life for themselves. The kingdoms, empires and alliances that endured from the Cataclysm to today were far-off legends to them. Here and now, looking down on the impossible city below them, they felt as if those fairy tales they heard were so close they could reach out and touch them.
A cough sounded behind them and they jumped, turning quickly to find Tribune Aurillia behind them.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you, Legionaries?” the older woman enquired.
The two stiffened at being approached by their officer. It would take a long time for any sort of trust to exist between them again. Aurillia was not offended, or even surprised. She naturally knew how they felt, having gone through the same thing herself.
“The commander has called for you to assemble. It’s time to find out if what you endured was worth it.”
91. The World Below, Part 4
The rest of the new Legionaries were gathered together in a cluster at the end of their ward under the watchful eye of a few Centurions.
The young soldiers felt restless. They still didn’t know how to feel toward the Legion and the seniors who cared for and trained them for so long. The pain of the baptism was fresh in their minds, the scars still raw. Many of them felt a strange dual emotion toward the people they once admired, equal parts anger and respect.
Aurillia stepped forward to address them.
“Thank you for gathering, young Legionaries. You have endured the pain of the baptism and suffered the loss of friends, as have we all.” She looked each of them in the eye directly, letting them see she knew of their pain, shared it.
“I’m sure you’ve felt it already, the changes in your body. You are no longer what you were before. Your very flesh has been infused with Mana and this means a few things will change. Firstly, you can never live on the surface without regular doses of liquid Mana to support your body. The Mana there is too thin. Here inside the Dungeon, you’ll be fine, but in the upper levels you’ll begin to feel a bit weak.”
Murmurs erupted from the new Legionaries at these words. Unable to live on the surface without liquid Mana? If the Legion were the only ones who knew how to make it, isn’t this just another way for them to be controlled?
“It also means,” Aurillia interrupted their thoughts, “that so long as you are able to absorb enough Mana, you will be able to do things you had never imagined possible before.”
Now she glared at them. Impressing her will on them. Each wilted under the strength she held in her gaze.