“Second place!” Dubhan walked along the streets of Omaros, arms crossed as he complained for what was not the first time, “I can’t believe we only got second place.”

Allouet had thought Dubhan was not so competitive as to be bothered by losing to Guild Silver Bullet in the Durian Hunt the other day. But clearly, that had only been because he had been distracted with his own concerns all the while. After his talk with Allouet, and after the results had been tallied on the night of the contest, Dubhan had been bringing it up ever since. At the moment, the topic that had brought it up was the staff that Allouet now carried, acquired from the local weapons’ smithy and supplier—one carved from sturdy elmwood, topped by a large blue crystal set in place with metal accents along the end.

“Y’know, if we’d gotten first place, we could’ve afforded something even fancier for you,” Dubhan complained.

“Yes, as you’ve said. I’m hardly picky, it’s quite fine,” Allouet said. “So, should there be any further competitions between guilds, I assume we’ll be aiming to best Silver Bullet?”

“Definitely! So…” Dubhan finally let the subject rest for the moment as he looked over the staff. “How does this work?”

“How does what work?”

“How do staves and wands and stuff actually help with, uh… magic and all that?”

“It’s a matter of the materials and the designs in which they’re crafted,” Allouet explained. “A simple way of putting it is that staves of the proper materials and craftsmanship can make the effort of manipulating mana much easier. Rather than shaping the mana directly from the environment into the spell of our choice, warlocks such as myself can draw it into our weapons first and command it from there. The staff is designed so that the mana drawn into it is much more malleable and easily shaped to my command.”

“I… see,” Dubhan said, though judging by the blank expression on his face, he may have only grasped a part of that. “I think I get it.”

Allouet offered a smile. “Should it make you feel any better, the actual crafting of a functional staff or wand is beyond me.”

The pair’s destination at the moment was the church once more. Earlier in the morning, Guild Shiragiku had received word that the church had finished its work with the journal, and so had made it their next stop after handling supplies and new equipment. Once they stepped inside the building’s entrance, they found Pierce waiting out the counter just as he had last time.

Upon seeing the two, Pierce smiled and placed the journal down on the counter. "We do appreciate your letting us go over the material inside of this book. If you’ve any use for it, you’re free to take it back."

Allouet took the journal and tucked it into his coat. “Excellent. I would like to check over it in my spare time should there be anything of value. Were you able to decipher any of the text, by any chance?”

“Some, from what I’m told, though nothing immediately groundbreaking. That being said, the church has found this material and your report to be of great interest. We're going to be opening a new priority mission for explorer guilds."

"A mission? In the labyrinth?"

Dubhan leaned forward on the counter eagerly. "What do you want us to do?"

"Well, it doesn't have to be your guild, naturally,” Pierced said, “but we’ve had guards posted around the building you located since we last spoke. The church felt that would be best until we knew more. That does, however, mean your guild is the only one that has any form of experience with the place. The church feels it is of interest to the city of Omaros to find the source of the magic that you reported. And, if the source is indeed a threat..."

“Then we get rid of it.”

"Yes, that is correct. As is standard for these priority missions, there will be a monetary reward. However, this mission may be highly dangerous."

Dubhan looked at Allouet.

"I see..." Allouet thought back to the sensation he’d felt the last time he was there. It wasn’t like any form of mana he’d felt before. Simply standing there in that building made all of his instincts scream at him to run, and there had been a brief moment in which he felt as if something was closing in around him. Still, no other guilds had found anything else anywhere in the Forest of Dawn. If there was something to be found in the labyrinth, it was obvious that the building held secrets. "Well, we need to delve further into the labyrinth one way or another, yes? I doubt we will have any success if we shy away from these things."

"Right,” Dubhan said. “Sounds like we’re in agreement.”

“Of course,” Allouet added, “I would like some time to prepare more medicines and organize our supplies if we’re going to do this. I propose we meet at your apartment in two hours.”

Once more, Dubhan stood before a circle of candles in his apartment, scythe in hand and window curtains drawn to block out all sunlight. He had been trying to reach out to the dark powers that hovered around him, to channel them to his command, but only felt them slip from his grasp each time.

His grip on the scythe tightened, and he gritted his teeth in frustration. This was important. He would need this power, he knew that. What he and Allouet were about to do could easily be their guild’s most dangerous task yet.

“Listen to me,” Dubhan said, speaking softly in the darkness. “I need you to listen, I need you to help me. I’m… nothing without you. How can I make it through Yggdrasil if I can’t even…”

Dubhan sighed and listened for a few moments to nothing but silence. The powers in the dark still refused to acknowledge him. Of course, they wouldn’t. He tightened his grip on his scythe, growing frustrated.

“Obey me!” Dubhan shouted. “I am Dubhan, harbinger of an enduring lineage, and I will not allow you to make a mockery of our tradition! You will obey me!"

There was a response at last, as Dubhan felt something stir in the air around him. The candles on the floor flickered. Dubhan continued, “It is your place to follow my orders!”

Suddenly, the candle lights all extinguished, plunging Dubhan into darkness. He felt the distinct impression that something, some presence was standing behind him. Around him, perhaps? Surrounding him? Whatever it was, it was laughing. Dubhan heard no sound, but he somehow knew nonetheless that something was amused by him. He looked to his sides, but the room was too dark to see.

The air felt cold. The shift had been abrupt, but Dubhan found himself freezing, as cold air pricked at his skin, and his body began to feel heavy. “Wh-what…” He tried to move, only succeeding in stumbling back a step. Then, in an instant, Dubhan felt as if everything faded away, like the sensation of slipping away into slumber.