Val and Katya’s trip back to the surface was largely made in an exhausted silence. They travelled for two days and two nights with the party they’d rescued from the rampaging dire bull, now all but back to fighting form thanks to Val’s surplus of healing items, following basically the same path they’d walked on their way down. 

After they broke camp the morning after the fight, one of the party members, a tall man dressed in fur robes and an obscene number of bone necklaces had left the group to notify the Chaliciary guild of the fate of their party, transforming into a stag in a flash of light and sprinting off ahead of the others. The rest of the warriors were left to travel at a less supernatural pace.

Val’s pack was weighed down with the spoils of the dire bull fight. A small selection of meat, bones, an enormous hide that, even rolled up and tucked in, hung to the ground and, most impressively, a set of gigantic shining black and silver metal horns lashed to his pack with leather straps, but the mood was not one of triumph. Katya had been quiet since the encounter. Mere minutes after she had dealt with the bull, bringing it down with no apparent effort, her wounds had reopened and she had to be healed with potions and spells alongside Val and the others.

Between Katya’s natural reticence, Val’s crushing disappointment at having lost a huge portion of his supplies to the fight with the bull and treating the rescued adventurers, as well as his forced reassessment of his ability to complete his solo mission to the bottom of the labyrinth, conversation was sparse. The newcomers were also quiet, suffering a kind of shell-shock after losing half their number, as well as a growing intimidation at seeing Katya all but one-shot a boss monster that nearly wiped them out. 

At night, around the fire, Val heard the legend of the powerful descendant of the Ten Thousand Blades taking root in whispered exchanges, but he did not engage, choosing instead to sit away from the others to keep an eye on Katya. If she was aware of his presence, or the occasional glances he stole, she did not show it, spending the time each night until they slept simply staring out into the darkness, her eyes blank and her expression inscrutable.

She ate, slept and travelled away from the group, keeping her distance even during the short fights that occurred, though the battles with the monsters scattered across the early floors were quick and simple affairs with such a comparatively large party.

They reached Abyssia, the frontier town that had sprung up around the entrance to the labyrinth, on the morning of the third day. Val’s disappointment at returning cut a sharp contrast to the relief in the worn faces of the adventurers they travelled with.

Val trailed behind the rest of the group, a little ahead of Katya, as they approached the gates.

“Val,” Katya said, only loud enough for him to hear.

Val stopped and turned to find that Katya had ceased walking. He glanced back at the others, who continued onward, their conversation picking up as the exit came closer and closer.

He walked back to Katya.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

She didn’t respond, instead looking past him, watching the others, avoiding eye contact as she had since the battle with the bull.

“Just, wait until…” she gestured to the rest of the group, for whom the gates of Abyssia had just been thrown open, and had broken ranks in their excitement.

Val approached Katya and stood next to her, joining her in watching the last of the relieved adventurers trickle through the gate and out of sight.

Katya took a deep breath.

“If -” she started, but fell silent mid-sentence.

A large group of royal guards, perhaps thirty of them, resplendent in their silver armour, spilled out of the town in tight formation. Their eyes were locked to Val and Katya, and they made a beeline for the pair, moving at a light jog, their boots striking the ground in unison.

Val muttered a curse, and his hands found the hammers on his belt.

Katya did not reach for her greatsword, instead putting out a low hand toward Val, a subtle gesture to tell him not to draw his weapons.

He clenched his hands into fists, and let them hang at his sides.

Val and Katya watched the guards, tension in their every muscle, as they came to a sudden halt a few metres in front of the pair. 

A short but well-built woman stepped forward from the second rank. Her armour was identical to the others, but the horse-hair plume on her helm was dyed a deep blue, a flourish that both Val and Katya recognised as an indicator of the rank of guard sergeant. She approached with a confident stride, stopping a few steps away from Katya.

Val watched her intently, but she made no move to draw the short-sword that hung from her waist, and her shield was strapped to her back. He glanced past her at the other guards and, while they stood stiff at attention, to Val’s eyes they did not seem to be readying themselves for a fight.

“Hello, Katya,” the sergeant said, her tone casual.

“Hello, cousin Gertie,” came Katya’s deadpan reply.

The sergeant’s eye twitched, and she smiled broadly.

“Gertrude,” she corrected, then moved on, “You’ve been summoned by the gilt council, and I’m here to escort you.”

Her eyes flicked to Val for the first time.

“Who’s this?”

“Nobody,” Katya said, “Just another traveller, I’m paying him to carry my pack for me.”

Val threw Katya a questioning look, but she didn’t respond. Taking the hint, he adjusted his expression to one of mild disinterest and nodded agreement. Gertrude narrowed her eyes, and Val could tell she wasn’t buying it.

Before Gertrude could ask any follow up questions, or Val could try to expand upon her deception, Katya’s hand snapped to the handle of her greatsword and she drew it smoothly. She swung the blade until the point came to rest only a few inches from the sergeant’s face. Val saw a couple of the guards reach for their weapons, and his own hands began to move in kind, but Gertrude stood impassive.

A few tense seconds passed and, just as suddenly as she’d drawn it, Katya turned the weapon, bringing the blade to rest on her off hand and offering the sword up to Gertrude.

“Very well,” Katya said, her voice even.

Gertrude smirked.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said, “Come on, and bring him with you.”

With that, Gertrude spun on her heel and the rest of the guards followed suit, marching back toward Abyssia.

Katya sighed and sheathed her giant blade. A flash of tension broke through her blank expression momentarily, but she noticed Val looking at her and brought it under control.

“Katya…” Val started, but she strode off after the guards before he could continue his sentence.

After a few moments, Val followed, falling into step beside Katya.