“Dubhan,” Allouet said, narrowing his eyes as he counted up the snails that were trying to surround the two of them. “We’re being accosted by snails.”

“Yeah, sometimes that happ—” Dubhan was cut off as one snail scrunched up its body like a spring and lunged at him, shell first. Dubhan swung his scythe to the side, batting the thing away and cracking its shell, but several others jumped next.

Allouet summoned forth a series of piercing icicles, sending them flying and knocking the snails out of the air. With the lackeys out of the way, Dubhan moved towards the larger king snail. Before he could close the distance, however, the creature spit a spray of vaguely green mucus from its… whatever sort of face snails have. That was a question Dubhan always had, but he had little time to ponder it as he staggered back, coated in the slimy substance. As Dubhan moved, he suddenly found he couldn’t move his feet, his boots practically glued to the floor by the sticky mucus. He tripped over himself and fell back onto the floor.

The king snail moved for Dubhan, raising its shell from the ground to bring it down like a club. Before it could, however, a bolt of lightning sparked towards it, electrifying the creature and dropping its charred remains to the ground.

Dubhan blinked, taking a moment to realize the threat was dealt with, and noticed Allouet peering down at him. “Oh. Thanks for the save, Allouet.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it didn’t hurt me or anything. What about you?”

“They hardly had much of a chance, I don’t think I’m the one you should be concerned about.”

“I’m not taking any chances after… Well, after the last time.” Dubhan tried to lift himself up from the ground but found his back and one arm stuck from the mucus’ adhesive properties. “Mind lending me a hand, though?”

Allouet’s brow furrowed. “I am… not sure I want to touch you. No offense intended.”

“Fair. Laundry would be nice right about now. Give me a minute, I can probably get myself unstuck.”

Allouet’s attention had already drifted to the side, however, where the light from Dubhan’s scythe reached one wall of the hallway. Something lay on the ground coated in snail mucus, and Allouet knelt down to pick it up gingerly, making a slightly disgusted noise as he did. It looked to be a book, though a chunk of the corner had been torn apart. “I think they were eating this,” Allouet said, trying to flip through pages which were marred and stuck together.

“Snails eat paper?” Dubhan wondered as he stared up at the ceiling.

“My understanding is that they’re not very picky eaters when it comes to plant-based materials… Oh. Oh.”

“What is it?” Dubhan took another try at lifting himself from the floor, hearing a few popping noises as the rapidly-drying adhesive finally began to give way. He sat up and grabbed his scythe, moving on to pry that free now.

Allouet spoke with amazement in his voice, “This seems to be a journal written by someone who lived here.”

“What—?!” Dubhan’s scythe came free more suddenly than he’d expected, and he fell back onto the ground. “Ow.”

Allouet looked up from the journal and frowned. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Dubhan sat back up, grinning ear to ear. “What’s the journal say? What’s in it?”

“Well, much of it is illegible, and the writing is just as archaic as the spell at the entrance. From what of it I can understand, however, the writer refers to this place as a… a research facility, I think. For what purpose, though, I’m uncertain. Possibly for the labyrinth or its ecology. And the… inhabitants were…” Allouet flipped through a few more pages, squinting at the writing. “They were making preparations to leave, I think.”

“How come?”

“I cannot make out much more than that. The tone comes across as somewhat distressed, so perhaps there was some form of threat present. It would seem reasonable for such a facility here to be threatened by a species from the forest, especially considering the presence of furyhorns.”

“Hm... This place is huge, though. Do you think some oversized deer would be that much of a problem if someone was dedicated enough to build this whole place?”

“Oversized d—that’s all you have to say about something that could have crushed us into paste? Although... I suppose it makes sense...” Allouet stared at the journal’s pages. “What would have... been dangerous enough, then?”

Dubhan took a moment to think of any likely candidates that might come to mind. But, seeing the concern on Allouet’s face, he just smiled and said, “Whatever it was, it’s probably nothing that’s still around.” He ruffled Allouet’s hair again with one hand.

“Wh—Dubhan, you’re covered in slime!” Allouet complained, pushing Dubhan’s arm away and trying to shake any residual snail muck from his hair.

“Anyway,” Dubhan said as he stood up, “What do you say we see how much of this place we can get mapped? We should still have plenty of time for it!”

“I suppose you do have a point,” Allouet said as he followed suit in standing from the ground, dusting off any dirt from his clothing. “Best to make use of our time as we…”

Allouet trailed off there, and his expression suddenly turned uneasy as he looked further down the hallway the two had been traveling through.

“Allouet?”

“I… Do you feel that?”

“Feel… what?” Dubhan asked. He could feel a breeze that came in from the cracks and damage in the walls and ceiling, but that was all.

“There’s something…” Allouet’s gaze was fixed on the darkness further in, his eyes flitting about as if in search of something. “Dubhan, something else is here.”

“What? Do you see it?”

Allouet shook his head. “N-no, but it’s… I don’t know where it is, but we shouldn’t be here.” He tore his attention away from the darkness ahead at last, looking at Dubhan with pleading eyes. He said hurriedly, “We can’t be here. We have to leave now, Dubhan.”

Dubhan hardly knew what to say at first. For an instant, all he could do was stare back at Allouet, questioning in his mind just what had triggered this. But Allouet’s sudden panic was genuine, and Dubhan wasn’t planning to take any chances. This could be discussed later. “Alright,” he said, “sure, let’s get out of here, then. We can report to the church about this. I’m sure they’ll want to know this is down here.”

“Very well, then.” Allouet turned back to the way he and Dubhan had come in the first place. “I apologize for cutting our explorations short…”

“Nonsense, we did great! Now, lead the way, honorable guild cartographer!”

“Carto... When did this happen?”

Dubhan shrugged. “Since the beginning? You’ve been handling the map a whole lot better than me this whole time.”

Despite whatever it was that had upset Allouet so, the trek back through the building, then the forest, and then to Omaros was mercifully peaceful. Once in the city again, (and after a chance to retrieve clothing that was not coated in snail mucus) Dubhan led the way to the church—a tall building made of white stone which stood out greatly from the buildings surrounding it.

The inside was quiet, with Dubhan and Allouet’s footsteps echoing clearly on the marble floor. Despite the building being called a church, the entire thing was huge and there was supposedly far more to it than the main hall where masses and sermons were held, though Dubhan had never seen any of it past the entryway.

A tall, thin man in robes stood behind a marble counter in the building’s entry room. The wolf ears atop his head marked him clearly as a therian, of which there were perhaps even fewer in Omaros than lunarians. The man smiled. “Ah, explorers, I take it?” He paused, recognition on his face. “Oh... Oh, it’s you, Dubhan! My, how long it’s been.”

“It hasn’t been that long, has it, Pierce?” Dubhan said. “Then again, I guess I don’t really have business here too often. But today we do!”

For the next while, Dubhan went into detail over the structure that they’d found in the forest, as well as the journal they’d located. The man, Pierce, nodded and made notes during the conversation. “I see... I’ll compile a report on these details. Do you have this journal on hand, then?”

Allouet retrieved the journal from his coat where he’d stored it for safe-keeping on the way back. “Yes, I have it here.” He placed it down on the countertop, allowing Pierce to gently turn through the delicate, aged pages. Dubhan had been keeping an eye on Allouet the whole while, and was glad to see the incident had not shaken up his companion too much.

With that in mind, he decided to try broaching that subject now. “And… While we were there, I think Allouet picked up on… something?”

Allouet nodded and took up the report from there. “At any rate, not long after we had found that journal, I believe I sensed some form of… magic present in those ruins.”

Pierced looked up from the journal. “And, when you say you ‘sensed’ it…”

“Lunarians such as myself are typically aware of ambient magic. From your and Dubhan’s reactions, I take it it’s true that other species are incapable of this?”

Dubhan shrugged. “I guess so, yeah. I dunno what magic feels like.”

Judging by the look on Allouet’s face, he found that answer to be more than a little odd, but continued, “I did not recognize the variety of magic that was present, but it was… suffocating, I suppose is the best way I can describe it. Whatever it was, it did not seem safe. Yet it was not there initially, so it must have been fluctuating, or… moving.”

“Magic can move?” Dubhan asked. He knew practically nothing of magic, or at least the sort Allouet used, so perhaps this was a basic question. But it struck him as odd nonetheless.

“It depends on what it’s purpose is and what it is attached to. If someone were to find some means to magically enchant a weapon, for example, then naturally the magic would be carried to wherever the weapon is taken. Similarly, if it’s attached to a creature, that could be the case as well. But there are many styles and techniques that magic can be used with, so I am sure there are other possibilities I am not thinking of.”

“Interesting,” Pierce said, writing more in his notes. “I appreciate this information. I’ll make sure the abbess is told about this as soon as possible. We may need to prevent the guilds from entering those ruins until we can make a further verdict.”

“So no one’s come across that weird structure before?” Dubhan asked.

Pierce shook his head. “To my knowledge, it hasn’t been mentioned, no... Would either of you have any objection to the church holding onto this journal to copy its contents? We can return it afterwards, should it hold any value to your guild.”

“I see no problem with that,” Allouet said. “I imagine it will be better in your hands for the moment, I could only decipher the most basic details.”

“Much appreciated,” PIerce said with a nod. “Best of luck with your explorations in the meantime, then.”