Argent had been exploring the city. Breathing in its scents, a bouquet of flavors to her ratty nose. Taking in the sights, taking note of everything that glittered or shone.

Today she led her pack across a clothesline, the thread bobbing with their collective weight as they padded from one roof to the next. Down a gutter, leaping onto a balcony, and then across that balcony’s rail, until they stood perched on their hindlegs, staring down the window of a jeweler’s shop.

It was nearly night, and they were putting away their stock. The little old man with his receding wisps of hair tucked behind his elephant ears lifted each gem as if it was a child, wrapping chains of glittering diamond and rings of ornately set lapis into silk coverings and setting them at rest in a long cabinet of drawers.

With the last piece stored, he lifted a small iron key, brushing it over the cabinet’s face. A ripple, and a solid wall of iron appeared. A door with no handle, no lock, only a key. Carved into that featureless iron face were numerous small characters of warding, preventing all kinds of magical intrusion.

As the old man left, he drew a second key, smaller, from a pocket in his vest. He waved it through the air and a web of golden spellwork briefly shimmered around the store, before fading out of sight.

Two magical locks. Two magical keys.

A wealth of treasures waiting to be taken.

Three of the vipers I had sent out into the mangrove orchard had reached the point of evolution, and with the benefit of numbers I had decided to set them each on a different path.

One had earned no interesting options beyond common path of constrictor, transforming it into a huge, tree-born predator.

The second had done slightly better for itself. While the other two’s last meal had been a reelfish, offering them the opportunity to become an amphibious snake, it had caught a soaring mouse, giving it the curious path of the Flying Serpent. When it emerged from its amber chrysalis, it was smaller than ever and almost entirely flat, giving it the ability to glide for short distances when leaping from treetops.

The third, however, was the real prize. She had unlocked somehow the choice of Mesmerizing Serpent, which seemed to be attached to my Attunement of Gleam. It was a misconception that common snakes could hypnotize their prey, but this path seemed to embody that myth, granting my pretty green snake a new set of scintillating blue scales and eyes that glowed with a faint light, light that promised to paralyze weak-minded prey. Combined with a cobra’s hood patterned by frightening fake eyes on the underside, and she was quite the impressive specimen.

As a reward, I gave each a mate, memorizing their form and reproducing it in the opposite gender. Each would have the opportunity to become the progenitors of an entire new species.

But as for whether they’d survive, I could promise nothing. My attention was already turning to the two golem cores lying in the dark. They were beautiful. The spellwork within them had been shaped with masterful care, using characters and formations I simply didn’t understand. It flowed like a kaleidoscope, collapsing and expanding into and out of itself.

Even trying to learn from them was like trying to learn a new language by overhearing a complex and fast-spoken conversation.

The most I could do was slowly ‘infect’ the Cores with my own Mana, slowly drawing out the inner stock and replacing it with my own. With that done, I turned to shaping bodies for them to inhabit.

The first would be glass. I had enough fine silica at the bottom of my lake to learn how to make more, and a glass guardian would perfectly suit my gardens of translucent mushrooms and flowers. I began working by conjuring a great deal of the material, causing it to rise up out of the earth in gleaming curves, bubbling organic shapes. I made it flow over and encase the first of the two cores.

Then I began to erode away at the newly created pillar of glass, working it down into my intended shape. This was a far easier method than shaping the entire thing by sheer will. It allowed me to work slowly, methodically. Bit by bit, I cut out the shape of pronged horns, and then a humanoid head, shoulders, and arms. A horned man emerged from the pillar. It was only below the midsection that I returned to animal inspiration, giving it the backwards-bending legs and cloven hooves of a deer.

A faun.

As a last touch, I pushed Mana in and reinforced the glass to the absolute limit. As I did it took on a greenish tinge, cloudy and obscuring. Gathering up the remaining glass from the pillar, I shaped a long spear for my new guardian.

DEFEND. I commanded.

And the golem did nothing.

I tried again, and again, until giving up in a huff. It was only once I ceased to be totally consumed in the work of creating my new guardian that I noticed something was wrong.

Not a single thing in my Dungeon was moving. All of them were asleep, still breathing but totally unresponsive to my commands. Izzis lay snoring in his little nest. Adamant was moving even less than usual.

I was alone, until a woman stepped from nowhere into the garden. She wore a dress made of flowers, hundreds of pale green roses woven together into a bell-shaped cascade of ruffled petals that oozed the sweet smell of pollen. Her feet were bare and drew curling shoots of green from the earth where she walked. She had pitch black hair that fell around her bare shoulders in curls, with stars - miniature stars - tangled in the midnight locks.

I thought I was looking at a god.

“No no, I’m only a divine messenger. I’ve actually been here before, but that time I didn’t let you see me.” She laughed. An obviously flattered laugh, the girl taking the time to fluff her hair out. “Gosh, mistaking me for a god. No, I’m just here to help patch things up between you and Our Lady Who is Perfect!”

Patch things up? I hadn’t done anything.

“Wellll…” She drew out each syllable into a purr. “You did turn down their offer, didn’t you? The gods don’t like to be refused.”

Having my mind read was a rather disheartening experience. I couldn’t lie, couldn’t cheat, couldn’t silently complain- those were some of my favorite things!

“Well I just thought you’re a very interesting Dungeon, and it would be a shame if you and Our Lady didn’t get along. You make such pretty creations!” She gestured to my gardens, which did look gorgeous. A faint mist of golden spore hung in the air and settled atop the glass-like mushrooms. Every little light reflected through hundreds of translucent fungal bodies, and gleamed on the sharpened edges of lustrous flower petals, creating a strange and otherworldly atmosphere.

“So maybe you could make her a gift? She loooves gifts.”

I didn’t like where this was going. I didn’t like that I was expected to take the initiative when all I’d done was refuse to hand over my soul.

“Well, think about it this way. I’m here! She could have just cut you off from her blessings, but here I am, which is liiiike saying she forgives you. Or wants to forgive you. If you give her a present.”

Fine. Fine, I thought very hard. If that’s what it takes.

“Great! I’ve got to go now, but I really hope you patch things up with Our Lady!” Completely missing my reluctance, or purposefully choosing to trample over it, she turned and stepped through a door that appeared out of nowhere.

And then she paused, taking a surreptitious glance around, and pulled a flower from her dress, tossing it to the floor behind her.

“Woops!” She said, convincing nobody.

And then she was gone.

I felt slightly disoriented. No, I felt slightly terrified. She might have been genuinely nice, albeit annoying, but there was an unspoken threat to the fact she could walk in, send my creations to sleep, and open a portal to another plane of reality.

That was a power that could end me.

Your creation has received divine favor.

It has been Named ‘Garden of Glass Bells’ and given the following Blessing:

A doorway shall open between this location and the Everforest. For the first thirty days, only lesser beings will be able to enter or leave through this door.

It was like the divine message said. The doorway she had opened remained. It was made of silver, and lined with runes, and unfortunately I didn’t think I could just tear it down without making the gods very angry.

Which left me with a portal open to an entirely foreign land in the middle of my Dungeon.

Fuck.