---Dilia POV

Time goes by unaccounted for in the dark. My misery stops when my tears run dry, uncertain without the Sun and Moon, how long I wallowed in self-pity. I reconcile my conscience with the fact that he attacked first and therefore would forever exploit any opportunity. Never able to sleep easy, can I sleep now with his blood on my hands? As a scout, I avoid combat, I sneak in and sneak out. Such is the aim of my training, my skill. Reality is different, assigned to a Patrol Troop on Ogre and Orc Hunts scouting for weeks and months, mainly fruitless and when I track a tribe, the Troop charges in, not waiting for my report – ‘just point where they are, we will do the rest’.

I shake my head in the dark and recall how I am here.

Selected to scout for Captain Rufus, an honour for my family and I, except for Grandfather who shook his head when told, no words of wisdom for me. With no explanation, he wandered out the back of his cottage and tended his garden. I chased him of course, explaining the importance with bubbly excitement. Slowly he stands, waves away my offer of assistance, and once on his paws, embraces me. His labouring breath ruffles my fur, remembering now; warms me and comforts me, and then he releases me and drops to attend his garden.

About to ask him again and there are calls from the house, they are here! Come Dilia you must join them now! There is an urgency that perhaps explains why I, of all the scouts, are being nominated, no other Fox Beast kin Scouts are present and Fox Beast kin need a representative. Scouting is their role in the three clans, their assumed purpose. I recall my heavy steps, given my Grandfather’s reaction, I wanted to ask my questions, and seek an explanation, but instead, honour forces me to leave his side.

Now I am here, alone, after I killed my first kin, one of the three clans. Perhaps hunting and trapping game prepared me for this moment, nothing such as killing a monster has, since I am yet to kill a monster; avoid combat, sneak in, and sneak out. Who am I fooling, ‘hunting and trapping game’, while implied, there is no killing in the name of this task?

My next step? Search Brak. Although dead and of dubious character, he is Beast kin of the three clans and deserves his name.

Frustrated after a time, nothing exceptional is found and guilt rolls over me. Did I misread his actions? I need assurance, or my confidence will join the casualty list. I need to search amongst his ‘junk’. My cheek fur stiffens, embarrassment. I could remove his pants and possibly lose whatever he hid there in the dark if not secured properly, or, well, or stick my hand down there and feel about!

I remove his belt and check for any hidden or false pockets along its length. The easy step. Next, his leather pants, unclipping the top three loops, deep breath, dive in, rip the trepidation! I discover his junk easily enough, the leather of his pants trapping my paw to his fur. My paw knocks something hard. I finger it, trying to obtain a sense of its shape, his leathers include an inner pocket layer. Finding the inside seam, I follow it back to the top, there isn’t an entrance. My paw quickly withdrawals and explores his outside pocket, no additional pocket. It must exist. I follow the seam of the pocket and discover a leather flap, an inside layer easily assumed as the actual pocket. I lift this and reach into the inner pocket.

A Key! A key can open a lock on a treasure chest or a door and the opposite of course. So why hide a key? Did he find the treasure chest it belongs to, with a secret intention to return here? If so, he found the key early and surely after three died, the treasure chest clearly out of his reach.

Rubbing the key revealed its teeth at one end and a loop at the other joined by a round smooth shaft. What meaning can be deduced?

Is there something else in his pants?

The eerie light is stronger just over there, should I examine the key with my eyes? The Dungeon is quiet, with some dripping water and nothing more. I edge to the light, using paws and knees, slow movements and present the key to the light as an offering.

Gold! It is made of gold! Ah, he didn’t want to open a treasure chest, he desired the gold. Would a gold key open a treasure chest? I lean on the key slightly to test its strength and its weakness surprises me and my face slams into the cavern floor. Ouch! Now both sides of my muzzle throb with pain. Not a key with the strength to turn a lock. He knew. His keeping of the key makes sense now and the pain of guilt whacks my stomach.

I crawl back with my prize; I am rich now! Unfortunately, in a Dungeon rich don’t feed or rescue you.

--- Aphrodite POV

My thoughts consume me during my flight to the river and the rendezvous with my daughters. The proposed meeting in three days couldn’t, no wouldn’t happen, I didn’t need another Master and I knew my freedom continued to countdown with each new morning. I also needed to pursue my purpose, specifically harvesting Feline Essence. I need to attain Level Ten to evolve, and each level requires double the essence of the previous level it seems. To attain Level Five will require eight equivalent Feline Essence, the required number for higher levels is beyond count!

Will I ever succeed in this unexplained need? A need that nestles deeply into my purpose of existence due to a Quest assigned to me by Zeus, I am certain. Fulfilling this Quest, I hope will bring me closer to reuniting with my creator, therefore acceptance is bearable regardless of the compulsion.

I smile to myself as I contemplate a resolution to these thoughts, formulating a plan as I glide and sweep celebrating my ability to fly as well as my plan.

My daughters inform me before I arrive the males are not waiting, and they doubt they managed to reach the camp. As I land, I notice an abundance of bones, some dressed in dried skin, most bare and devoid of flesh. Are bugs and insects responsible, possibly.

“Daughters fly as three and spot for campfires, fly between the mountains and the town and circle around the town to fly between the town and the thin forest and return. We will hunt at dawn.”

They take to the moonless night sky to obey my wishes. I call upon Hera’s Gift and disappointed I remain uncloaked by shadow. I decide upon foolishness and visit the place of taboo, the place Dawnanda swore to avoid. The Snake Beast kin suggested the town’s taboo and abandonment shortly over and Bucket One reported many Lion Beast kin travelling to the town to confirm the truth of the Snake’s words.

I approach the town from the east, the river side, the thick and overgrown forest perfect to provide cover and several mature trees to roost in. From my vantage point, I can spy into the sunken dirt amphitheatre, which dominates this side of the town. The south side’s heavy forest tries to disguise with overgrowth the single ancient trail to and from the Dungeon. The other directions include several trails, a couple cleared by recent traffic.

An invisible line exists between the forest and the town. The forest testing this line, trying to dislodge the paved cobblestones, and failing. The neighbouring trees are young and the base under the cobblestones is deep. The town was constructed by people or beast kin determined to ensure it lasted until the end of time.

The surviving buildings were constructed with blocks of stone, most now without rooves. The town layout dividing the one town into several distinct towns is odd. Each township or quarter contains the required significant buildings and facilities, blacksmith, inn and well to name three and between each quarter an extremely wide cobbled road. A clear and deliberate line of separation.

Debris in the form of branches, twigs and leaves cover the cobbled roads leading out of the town and I am certain usage over time will clear them. The trail to the Dungeon is the exact opposite! The surrounding forest claiming it and crowding it to the point it resembles a wide game trail instead of an actual trail.

Away from the roads and quarters, on the east side of the town under my gaze, a sunken amphitheatre exists. The ground was dug into and grassed, repelling the forest with ease, in contrast to the cobblestone used elsewhere. In the centre of the amphitheatre stands a glowing stone twice my height and equal to my girth, a mystery for another time.

Most of the town quarters are deserted, given over to roofless buildings, broken off branches and leaves. Two quarters though are busy. North of the Amphitheatre another feline Beast Kin occupies one quarter, not Lion and not Panther. The clean-up is finished, the rebuilding commencing and except for a few on patrol, they sleep. Interesting, they didn’t consider themselves safe enough to sleep without guards. North-West of the Amphitheatre is the Snake Beast Kin quarter which contains a few buildings with tiled rooves.

Each Beast Kin is assigned a Town Quarter, a tradition must exist as there is no conflict or challenge, as each Beast Kin present remains within their Quarter. I utilise the remainder of the night to search through and commit to memory the layout of each of the empty quarters. Finishing in the pre-dawn I escape to the riverbank to meet with my daughters.

---Dilia POV

Should I hide the key? Why? I sip from my water skin and chew dried meat to satisfy the rumble in my stomach as I stare at the key on my lap.

I awake, frantic, my muzzled head snapping left and right trying to establish my whereabouts and recall my situation. Tiredness. I rub my eyes with the back of my paws. The eerie light of the cavern reminds me, trapped in this Dungeon, alone.

I sip from my waterskin, glad it is within reach. I check my backpack, dried meat, dried fruit, and stale bread.

Brak’s body reminds me of my deed and shame ripples through me. Could I push or drag him or perhaps I move?

Grabbing my pack and water skin, I stand.

Should I stay next to the wall? Yes! I am not venturing further into the cavern. Should I walk left, the shorter length of the wall, or right?

Wait!

Something is wrong.

Brak’s body, he is dead, why? How? Me. I killed him. He attacked me. Why? Treasure? No, I gathered none. Food! Yes, and Water. I relax, the mystery is solved, and I accept my guilt.

Wait!

Something else.

The Key! The Golden Key!

It didn’t make a sound when I stood or grabbed the water skin and backpack. I strap the backpack to my back. I throw the water skin over my shoulder. I must find the key!

I tap with my foot paw and start where I rested. A few moments pass, and I jostle something. I reach for it, it is the key, smaller? Did it slip through my legs, while on my lap? Smaller?

Holding the key up I try to find some reflective light. I am not sneaking towards the cavern again. There, on the wall! I place the key within the spot of light against the wall, smaller as if it is shrinking away.

The instant light dazes me, and I close my eyes, too long in the dark, too sensitive. Cracking open an eye, I follow an outline, a door outline! I squeeze the key tighter in my grip and scamper right to the door. Two steps and the outline of the door fades from view. NOoooo!

I slam the key against the wall. Nothing.

After a heartbeat, to the left now, a door outline glow erupts from the wall surface. Slowly, key in contact with the wall I sidle along, towards the outline and my final hope.

I pause in silent prayer to my ancestors and then slide the key within the outline. The stone trembles. The door outline is one block that shudders and infinitesimally retreats into the wall, the key evaporates, and tendrils of gold vapour escape between my furry fingers. I push the door, and my foot paw slips, I reposition it and push again, fruitless. I remember Rufus and Fesser grunting to shift the door to enter, and I accept on the brink of escape I am doomed.