Chapter 01 Basalt Halls

           The entrance to the Basalt Halls was marked by an ornate metal door. It was the color of bronze, or perhaps brass, but it was stronger than the scales of an adult Steelix. Age had not left a mark on that ancient door. Even the recent Bustershoot incident, which scorched the walls and polluted the water with a murky slurry of mud and soot, didn’t make so much as a dent in its massive frame.

           Not that Sophia felt even the slightest shred of remorse for the incident. Instead, she felt a surge of pride welling inside her. Ever since she was a child, Sophia dreamed of venturing out into the unknown places beyond the farthest reaches of Dreamer’s Eye. Now, at long last, the time had come for her to fulfill her destiny.

           She smiled. Her reflection in the door leaves smiled back. For a brief shining moment, she felt overwhelmingly confident, both proud of the Abra she had been up to this point and determined to take on any challenge that stood in her way. It was a sensation so pure and so satisfying that she did not even notice a little green Skiploom as he snuck up behind her, cleverly hiding his body behind hers so that she couldn’t catch sight of his reflection, until he popped up and shouted “Hiii!” right in her face.

           Sophia, still in the mindset of a brave adventurer, instinctually teleported behind the intruder and grappled him into submission. Only afterwards did she realize the nature of her opponent as a bulbous plant creature, which made her maneuver seem like a gross overreaction. On top of that, the Skiploom’s wide noggin made him particularly awkward to hold in a headlock.

           “That’s a weird way to hug somebody,” he said cheerfully, “but thanks anyway!”

           Sophia had half a mind to tighten her grip and interrogate the rogue ball of plant matter, but before she could, she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. Hartwin stood at the mouth of the cavern. With him was a nonplussed Meditite in a short training jacket that hid a protruding belly.

           “Um, hey! Sorry we’re late,” said Hartwin. “Er… Sophia, you remember Thyme, right?”

           Sophia gave him a baffled look. “Well I got here at ten thirty,” she said.

           “Oh, that was a good one!” laughed the Skiploom. He seemed to be quite sincere about it, too. “I’ll have to remember to use that one later!”

           “Ah, no,” Hartwin said. He coughed and tugged at the collar of his vest. “Thyme – that’s uh, well, him.” He nodded and gestured to the Skiploom with his bone club. “You met him, remember? It was at the Iaponese Ambassador’s party.”

           This proved to be no help at all as Sophia had absolutely no recollection of what had happened that night, only that she woke up the next morning with a tremendous hangover and a mouthful of yellow hair. Thyme popped out of Sophia’s grip and hovered a few inches in front of her face. He had the most enormous, innocent smile Sophia had ever seen.

           “I remember you!” said Thyme. “At the bonfire! You were the one who told all those funny stories! Like the one where Hartwin pretended he was a knight in shining armor! And the one where Hartwin got his head stuck in a pot of sugar! And the one where Hartwin tried to stick his bone club straight up his nose! And the one where…”

           Hartwin gently pushed Thyme away with the end of his bone club.

           “Yes, thank you,” he muttered hastily. “Anyway! That’s Thyme. And this over here is Reeva. I can’t remember if you two met. Have you met?”

           Sophia looked down at Reeva. Reeva looked up at her dispassionately.

           “I dunno,” said Sophia. “Did we? Your name rings a bell.”

           “I don’t have a good memory for faces,” Reeva said coldly. Her gaze was unwavering and completely inexpressive, as though she was a living statue. That her eyes were so absurdly large made the experience of looking into them all the more unnerving. Sophia put on a big, forced smile to try to lighten the mood. It didn’t help.

           “Uh-huh,” said Sophia. “So… did we meet?”

           “Probably.”

           “Any idea where?”

           “None.”

           Sophia waited, just in case the Meditite was about to do something phenomenal that would make her drop all her preconceptions and want to be her best friend, or at least her worthy foe. Sophia’s attention span sputtered out before either could happen.

           “Whatever,” she said. “So Hartwin! Ready to head down to the dungeon?”

           Hartwin scratched the back of his neck. “Well funny thing about that,” he said. He pulled Sophia aside, and spoke to her in a low voice. “See, I’ve been thinking – don’t you think it would be risky going down into the dungeon, all by ourselves? Alone?”

           “Um, no?”

           “Well it might be!” said Hartwin. “I mean, think about it! We’re going down into some deep, unexplored cavern filled with deadly traps and vicious, merciless enemies who’ll stop at nothing to take us down.”

           “You mean the Barboach.”

           “Um… yeah! Well not necessarily. Maybe?”

           “Hartwin, are you backing down?” said Sophia. There was a certain sharpness in her voice, stemming not from anger but from sheer disbelief. And she thought he had been making so much progress recently. To think he would bow out just as all their dreams were coming true!

           “What? No!” said Hartwin. He waved his hands in the air to reassure her. “No no no… just I was thinking, don’t you think we need reinforcements? Just as a precaution. I mean, they might know Water Gun. And I’m a Ground type…”

           “And I’m a Grass type!” chirped Thyme. “And Reeva’s a fighting psychic – a Fightkick!” He gasped. “Reeva! That should be the name of your attack!”

           Sophia looked over at the two newcomers. Thyme was singing a little song about psychics and Fightkicks and light nicks and bright sticks, until he quickly ran out of rhymes and decided to hum the tune instead. Meanwhile, Reeva had procured a little blue notebook from her jacket. She leafed through the pages and began to take notes, though Sophia couldn’t see what she was writing.

           “So they’re coming along with us?” said Sophia.

           “Ah, well, yeah,” said Hartwin bashfully. “Thyme and I were talking, and he thought it would be a great idea if our teams could join forces. I wanted to run the idea by you earlier, when we had that Explorers Guild briefing, but I didn’t see you anywhere.”

           Sophia didn’t know whether she should have been angry at Hartwin for conspiring with other teams behind her back, or impressed at how much better he had become at socializing. The idea that she probably should have attended the briefing that morning scarcely crossed her mind. She shrugged her shoulders.

           “Eh, fair enough,” she said. She flashed the other team a smarmy grin. Even if her team was not going to be alone, she was determined to make this her day. “So, Flower Face and Tubby the Clown! What Guild are you guys part of? Explorers? Hunters?”

           Much to Sophia’s delight, Reeva responded with a cold glare.

           “We are Researchers,” she said curtly. “Our duty is to identify and experiment on dungeon phenomena.”

           “Awesome!” said Sophia. “Nerds! Can’t wait to see how we’re going to have to bail you out of trouble!”

           “Sophia, what are you doing?” asked Hartwin, but his words were so small and meek that his voice was left unheard. He knew it didn’t matter anyway. When Sophia wanted to pick a fight, she wouldn’t stop until she got one. Luckily for her, Reeva answered her call.

“We don’t need you to bail us out of anything,” she said. It was a poor retort, and for all Sophia knew it might have been true. Still, it was a phrase Sophia could work with.

           Sophia cocked her head to one side and her hips to the other. Then she gave Reeva a proud, wiry sort of smirk that suggested that she was an ace in everything she set out to accomplish and that she could work wonders if only everyone else could just step back and not get in her way.

           “Well maybe you haven’t heard,” she said. “But we’re going down, down into a deep, unexplored cavern filled with deadly traps and evil, merciless enemies who’ll tear us limb from limb.”

           “You mean the Barboach?” said Reeva flatly. Hartwin sighed deeply.

           “Not just any Barboach!” said Sophia. “We’re up against a Barboach army. You hear that, Onion Head? A whole army.”

           “Of Barboach,” added Reeva.

           “They’ll be lurking around every corner,” continued Sophia with a sort of dramatic flair, “waiting to catch adventurers off guard, helpless, cornered and alone! Then before you know it, they’ll strike!”

           “Are we still talking about Barboach?” said Reeva.

           “Laugh now while you can!” said Sophia haughtily, “Because you’ve never been in a dungeon before, have you? You’ll never know what terrible things to expect down there, and the Barboach already have an advantage over us. They know the terrain better than you can ever know. So you better watch out, and don’t be surprised if we have to cover your butts every step of the way.”

           Reeva and Hartwin both stared at her blankly. But before either of them could make a retort (which would have been far too easy to do), a loud creaking noise echoed through the cavern. Perhaps the door to the dungeon was much lighter than it looked, or perhaps its hinges were very well oiled, because Thyme had pushed it all the way open. He took a peek, then popped inside. His tiny body quickly vanished into the darkness.

           Reeva immediately bolted after him, calling him name loudly as she burst through the open doors. Hartwin followed in shortly afterwards, telling her to be very careful. Sophia stood stunned for a while, until it dawned on her that she was now the last person to set out on what should have been her own great adventure. She bolted after her three companions. As soon as she entered the door, it slammed shut behind her.