There it was. A demand. It was one I couldn’t deny no matter how oblivious the issuer of it was. I wanted to avoid this. Why couldn’t I have just left her alone or better yet have had any self-control back in the room?

“Fine,” I huffed pointing my finger towards her, “But, you need to understand that it’s not going to be easy and you might die anyway. If that happens it’s not my fault.” The elf nodded.

Damn it.

I began heading back to the room.

“Where are we going?” She asked scrambling after me.

“The room we were in before. It’s late and I don’t feel like dealing with three-eyed bats on the next floor right now. Especially because someone,” I said stopping to lean in close to her face, “woke me up with all their racket.”

Damn, she smelled good.

“Excuse me? It’s not like I knew a cranky mimic was hanging around!”

“What did you expect to find down here? A dragon’s hoard worth of gold? I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you threw away your life for no reason.”

The audacity of adventurers never failed to astound me even after all this time. My irritation was obvious on my face. Throwing my hands up I continued walking. The elf became quiet. My eyebrow rose as I glanced back at her using my peripherals. I had known her for two seconds, but even I could sense that this was out of character for her. Especially given the amount of attitude she had been giving me, not to mention her volume.

When we made it back to the room my golden elf surprise was still quiet. Her silence was unnerving. “Uhm, look, you can sleep over there. There’s less mildew from the crates and I’ll keep an eye out. Though not much ever comes up to this level.”

She nodded her head in understanding and moved her things over to the corner. I caught a glimpse of sadness in her eyes as they caught the light. My attention lingered on her as she carefully unhooked her bedroll and spread it out on the dungeon floor. All without a word. It broke something in me to see her weighed down by hurt. A possessive anger swirled around my body. It had to be the dungeon key causing these emotions. It was the only thing that made sense.

I made my way back to the door to keep watch. What have I gotten myself into? Staring out into the room I remembered how it was before the dungeon was closed off. The banners had been a bright crimson then, embroidered with the symbols of the world’s greatest wizards. Magic ran through everything. It was alive, not like the dying place that now surrounded us in darkened shades of gray. People came here with a greater purpose back then.

A timid tap landed on my shoulder from behind. It was so soft I almost didn’t notice it. It was the elf girl holding something small wrapped in parchment in her hands.

“I don’t really know what mimics eat. Not elves, obviously” she let out a half-hearted chuckle before continuing, “but I wanted to share this with you as a thank you. It’s not much but my mother made it. It’s a honey cake.”

Her gift caught me off guard. I tried my best but I couldn’t think of ever being given anything that wasn’t from him. My hand grazed hers as I took the cake. My breathing stalled. The earnest look on her face made my knees weak. She stood there watching me expectantly motioning me to eat. I took a bite. I hesitated. Not that I thought she was trying to poison me. Nothing about that would benefit her, but still, ages of experience made me weary.

The sweetness melted in my mouth. Then like a mace to the stomach hunger overtook me. I started scarfing down the small cake.

“Well, damn. I guess if I make it out of here I can tell my mother her cakes are mimic-approved.” A tinge of embarrassment rushed to my cheeks.

“So what do I call you,” she said cocking her head. “I’m Eladren. Our meeting didn’t leave much time for introductions.”

She was right. It hadn’t. It wasn’t supposed to. But, her name was sweeter on my tongue than the cake was.

“You can call me Breaker,” I said wiping the crumbs off of my face.