Smugglers and Dungeons!

Basila had her boots back on her feet. Now she knew that they were safe here. Or as safe as a chamber in a dungeon dead-set on killing them could be, but she didn't want to stay in the dungeon.

The core was using up all of her mana. She was trying to contain it, but it was hard.

The spells it whispered, which it would have even cast, had Basila not forced its mana circulation to stop, were treasures.

Lost to time, lost even to her people.

She studied the core. Studied how it morphed its mana. What sort of spells it used.

A part of her wanted to study under the core. To keep it to herself.

She looked at Icarus, who was sleeping near her, his head on her lap.

If she kept the core, then she could become a powerhouse. A mage like no other. A mage from the days of Romulus and Remus!

But…

Icarus' clan needed the core. Icarus needed the core. The boy had come back for her.

And he was the heir…

"Is he?" The core didn't miss this opportunity. It had let more than one fool think it weak. It was going to do the same old trick with Basila now. "Why should he be? Sure, he looks like an elf."

Basila petted Icarus' right ear. Her finger rubbing the pointy tip.

"But he's not," the words made her pause in her petting.

She looked down at the boy in her lap. His skin was a bit tanned. He was tall for his age…

"And you were born to the purple," the dungeon core continued. Using Basila's own memories and hidden dreams against her. "You can be like her! The Pharaoh Queen!"

Basila snorted.

"She died," she told the core, as she continued to pet Icarus. "Her child remained a bastard. She was known as a whore."

The core gritted its teeth.

"She was great!" Even it had managed to hear a couple of things about the great Queen.

But Basila just snorted.

"My children won't be bastards," she said because she was a lady, if not a princess. "And they will wear the purple."

"Darn you both!" The core yelled.

Suddenly, the grass under them began to wilt. Baldwin paused in his grazing. Looking at Icarus.

"Icarus?" Basila began to shake him. They needed to get away! "Come on! We have to run!"

Icarus sprang to his feet and swung her over a shoulder. Before she knew it, she was carried to Baldwin like a sack of loot, and they were galloping away.

Icarus had his pair of scissors in his hand. He was gripping them so hard, that his knuckles were turning white!

"Something is coming," he said, as Baldwin began to gallop even faster. "Something big!"

Basila's face was red, for Icarus was still holding her around the waist. She was sitting in front of him. His back was flush against hers!

"Icarus, we have to stand and fight!" There was no running away. She wasn't a little girl who was going to run away from the sound of cannonballs battering at the walls.

She was going to fight!

"Fight this!" The core roared.

Basila blinked. Why was the sky coming closer? And the mountains! They were moving!

"Baldwin, faster! To the exit, boy!" Icarus yelled behind her.

Order was shining!

Smoke began to rise under Baldwin's feet. The grass, dry and yellow, was slowly being set aflame!

Basila realized then that Baldwin was going to fight with them! That he was not just a mount, but a weapon.

"Ok," Basila focused on the flames. She made her mana just like how the core did.

"Darn you!" The core roared, as it made the mountains close in around them faster.

But Basila didn't care. She aimed at a mountain, focusing all of Baldwin's fiery mana into that one spell.

"Firestorm!"

The mountain exploded.

Baldwin placed a barrier around all three of them. Galloping through the hole in the mountain and out into the cool night.

Icarus and Basila looked behind them. There it was, the mine. Or, at least, what was left of it.

Basila took out the core. It wasn't shining anymore!

"Oh, no," she said, as she searched for any trace of the core's spirit in the crystal. "Come on! This can't be happening!"

Icarus began to blink as he looked at Basila, who was shaking the core.

"What's wrong?" Even as he asked, he was beginning to guess.

"We killed it!" Basila yelled, as she began to pour mana into the crystal. "Breathe! Come on! We need you! Breathe!"

Icarus' fingers closed around Basila's.

"Don't," he whispered with all the hopelessness someone who had risked everything for nothing could feel. "You might end up tied to the crystal."

He wasn't an expert on dungeons, but he knew that if something was left without a spirit, it wanted to get another one.

Nature didn't suffer wastefulness.

"But your family!" Basila yelled, a tear trickling down her cheek. She wanted to say: "But, my family," but she didn't find it in herself to utter it.

"Master Tang will know what we can do with this," Icarus said, bitterness on the tip of his tongue.

The old human was his only hope.

But first, he knew that they needed to find Ingrid. To make sure that she was fine.

Just as he turned around to look at the mine, Order in his hand, ready to cut up the doors to make it so, as if brigands had raided the place, the mine began to shine.

He saw as the strange tree with the white bark and the orange leaves began to shine as well.

Icarus hopped back on Baldwin, with Basila in his arms.

Ready to defend her.

Only for a treasure chest to appear near the tree!

"Huh?" Icarus asked.

"We really killed it," Basila said next to him, burying her face in his shoulder. "And now we get the loot."

Icarus made Baldwin go to the tree, the barrier still around them.

"Baldwin, open the chest, please!" He said.

The horse kicked the wooden chest open.

Icarus' eyes widened…