Arc 2, chapter 5: First Route

Maxie diligently packed everything he thought he needed into a small backpack. It wasn’t much, but he knew it’d be quite a hike to get to Rusty Boroughs, with only a handful of stops along the way. It’s just Fort Dale and Petalworth, right? I haven’t been to either of those places, though. Or out of Root City, for that matter. I need to keep on my toes. Maxie looked through the rations he’d thought to bring. Blaise said we’d be on the road for two to three weeks, depending on mystery dungeon luck, right? Better prepare for three…

 

Maxie had been told by Blaise to pack for a potentially bumpy road to the city where he normally worked. They wouldn’t stay there long, though, since they had an entire kingdom of suspects to look through.

 

“What was it he said…” Maxie muttered to himself. “Something like, ‘we’ll need to be on the move constantly to avoid missing anyone or drawing attention.’”

 

Blaise had insinuated that their stay there would be relatively short, only for the duration of the trial. That, of course, would probably mean that whoever they were looking for wouldn’t be happy, and might try to deal with them, as well.

 

It wasn’t hard to figure out that they would be in danger the entire time.

 

Maxie riffled through his desk one last time, ensuring he hadn’t left anything important. He saw his journal.

 

“Better take that…”

 

Maxie, slinging the bag over his back, stepped outside his room after flicking off the lights one final time, and headed downstairs.

 

“You’re only heading out for a month or so, right?” Tabitha asked him in the foyer.

 

“That depends on how well it goes,” Maxie responded.

 

“Worst case scenario?”

 

“I don’t come home,” Maxie stated, as if it was obvious.

 

He wasn’t entirely wrong, but the silence that followed said more than words could.

 

“…Don’t die out there. Your life is more important than whatever you get out of this.”

 

“I’ll do my best,” Maxie replied. “You’re officially the lady of the house now, huh?”

 

“I guess so, whatever that means,” Tabitha responded. “I’m more surprised that Mom left the Manor to me in her will.”

 

“That just means that she knew you were the more mature one between the two of us.”

 

“Never thought I’d see the day where I heard that from you, Maxie,” Tabitha mused, looking away.

 

“You’re probably more suited to it than me, anyway.”

 

“Before I forget…” Tabitha started, changing the topic, “You will be back for the feast in a few months, right?”

 

“Most likely. Who knows? I could be back even sooner.”

 

Tabitha sighed. “In any case, stay safe out there.”

 

The door to the Manor creaked open, and Blaise poked his head in. “I see you’re already packed.”

 

“You said it could be a longer trip, right?”

 

“That I did.” Blaise stepped inside, and handed a stack of papers over to Tabitha. “This should be the last of the paperwork you need to file, Tabitha. After that, the Manor’s yours.”

 

Tabitha took it, and placed it on the couch next to her. “I’ll take a look at it after you leave, which I’m guessing is not very long from now.”

 

Blaise turned to Maxie. “If you’re ready to head out.”

 

“I’m about as ready as I’ll ever be,” Maxie responded.

 

“Then let’s go,” Blaise replied.

 

The journey started simply enough, with Maxie and Blaise walking along the trail out of town, mostly in silence. Neither of them could think of anything interesting to say, the sounds of their own footsteps taking the place of conversation.

 

Finally, Maxie spoke.

 

“How far do you think we’ll get today?”

 

“That depends on how well the Barrier Dungeon goes. Root Path is usually pretty lenient, but I’ve gotten myself set back a day because it gave me bad luck with the shifts more than once. It usually does go smoothly, though.”

 

“…What is a shift like, anyway?”

 

“Oh, trust me, you’ll find out. Unless we get impossibly lucky.”

 

Maxie sighed. “You could just tell me.” Or I could look it up…

 

“I think it’s something better learned the hard way,” Blaise explained. “I’m sure you’ve heard what it is before, but nothing can prepare you for actually experiencing one. But once you do, you know what to expect. You—”

 

“Wait!” a voice shouted in the distance.

 

Immediately, both Blaise and Maxie turned around to see Wally, of all people, standing off in the distance.

 

“Wally?” Maxie shouted back. “What in the world are you doing here?”

 

Wally teleported closer before responding, giving Maxie and Blaise a chance to notice that he looked notably out of breath, like he’d just gone for a run. “Let me help you,” he finally said.

 

“Your rich kid ass?” Maxie asked skeptically. “After you basically didn’t bother helping anymore than you needed to that night?”

 

“Consider this me making that up to you,” Wally replied. “If you’re investigating, then—”

 

“Slow down, there, uh…” Blaise interrupted, before trailing off.

 

“W-Wally.”

 

“Right. Wally. I have psychic types I can talk to. You shouldn’t throw yourself into this.”

 

“I’m talented.”

 

“Then prove it. Tell me the word I’m thinking of without me noticing you reading my mind.”

 

Several seconds of silence followed.

 

“I felt that,” Blaise finally said.

 

“Please give me a chance, sir.”

 

Blaise turned to Maxie. “Would you say he’s reliable?”

 

“Not really, no.”

 

“Hm…” Blaise mused.

 

“Wait! At least let me tell you something!” Wally said, sounding desperate.

 

“…What?” Maxie asked slowly.

 

“I’m pretty sure I felt three different individuals leaving the town with something that night. I remember what their minds looked like, so I might be able to help you find them again.”

 

“And why didn’t you tell anyone that the night it happened?”

 

“It was a hectic night, okay? I just needed a good opportunity to say it, but it never came.”

 

Maxie was silent for a while. “…Fine, you can come. I don’t know how you’re going to explain this to your parents, though.”

 

“They okayed it.”

 

Maxie did a double-take. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“It’s true. They said I could help with your investigations. We had to go to Rusty Boroughs for business reasons, anyway. It’s actually pretty convenient for me.”

 

“You know calling it convenient for you makes you look bad, right?”

 

“Do you really not trust me, Maxie?” Wally asked. “Come on. You know me. We’ve been friends all of our lives.”

 

“It’s… kind of difficult to do that, given the circumstances. But I’ll give you a chance so long as you don’t do anything stupid that screws us ov—”

 

“Hold on, now…” Blaise interrupted. “Something tells me your parents don’t realize the gravity of the situation.”

 

“I already told them that I’m helping to find a potential alternative suspect.”

 

Blaise gave a hard sigh. “This is the type of work where getting careless gets you killed, do you understand that?”

 

“I can handle myself in a fight.”

 

“That’s not what I mean, kid.”

 

“My parents can save me from legal trouble.”

 

“You realize that they’re real estate tycoons, right? That entire business hinges on being nice to the king. No the hell they can’t.”

 

“I will be very careful.”

 

Blaise looked at Maxie, as if to ask if he was really sure about this—which he wasn’t—before looking back at Wally. “If you find yourself having to live on the run or worse after all is said and done, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now walk in front.”

 

“Gladly, sir,” Wally replied, complying with… an excited smile on his face?

 

What does he think we’re doing? Jacob wondered. He’s making a face like he just got a free meal at Grimaldi’s.

 

Jacob paused. It’s been a while since I’ve thought about restaurants in Hoboken… Come to think of it, I’ve only gone out to eat in this world a few times. Maybe I’ll start touring restaurants after all of this is over, he thought wishfully.

 

The next several hours were spent walking with significantly more chatter than usual. Wally, for his part, had a knack for drumming up small talk where necessary. Eventually, however, they found their way to Root Path.

 

“Are the ferals around here normally any trouble?” Wally asked as they stood at the edge of the dungeon.

 

“Not at all,” Blaise responded. “There aren’t that many and they’re usually fairly weak. The real danger is the length of the dungeon. We might have to make camp for the night at the other side.”

 

“Really?” Wally asked. “I only brought a pillow…”

 

“It’s your new bed,” Maxie joked. Wally, you’d better prove useful when we get to Rusty Boroughs, so help me God…

 

“Eh, I can deal with it…”

 

“I wouldn’t be worried about comfort when we’re about to trek through a mystery dungeon,” Blaise commented, “but in the interest of actually getting to Fort Dale before the day is done, we’re going to be going at a relatively brisk pace, so just try to follow me as well as you can,” he added, stepping in front.

 

The second they stepped past the trees, the entire environment changed before Maxie could even blink. It was like they’d teleported—only it was somehow more jarring.

 

“G-gah!” Wally said, jumping in place. “Urk, never gonna get used to that.”

 

“Have you not done this many times before?” Blaise asked.

 

“Erm… three, I think?” Wally responded.

 

“Well, I’d say I have gotten used to it after all of this time,” Blaise continued. “It’s a matter of experience. What about you, Maxie?”

 

“I’ve only messed around in the mystery dungeon right outside of Root City…”

 

“Hm… That’s only two floors, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes,” Maxie confirmed.

 

“Well, the dungeon we just got ourselves into has ten, and it shifts regularly. Do try to keep up, now.”

 

“Wait, ten?!” Wally exclaimed. “I didn’t even know that they went that high!”

 

“Would you believe me if I said there are mystery dungeons out there known to contain hundreds of floors, Wally?” Blaise asked. “This isn’t even in the top five longest dungeons in the Eyelash Isles.”

 

“Wow…” Wally said.

 

“Indeed. But enough talk. Let’s get a move on.”

 

Maxie very quickly discovered what a dungeon shift was like just one floor later.

 

Rigearg

G SER gsrhk orzdG
we

Ger

 G

Drh

Fg all jtb

Dt trhdt

Hfy

Jtftr startdv trh re

Th

Srtevt agaih

 

Maxie very quickly had to throw up afterwards. The experience was so jarring, so sudden, and so merciless, that his body immediately just said ‘no.’

 

“Uhhhhhhgg…” Maxie groaned, keeling over.

 

Blaise just laughed. “Well, that’s just expected, now isn’t it? Come on, you. We have to keep moving.”

 

“J-just… give me five…” Maxie forced out. “That was intense…”

 

“You realize that’s probably going to happen at least another two or three more times while we’re in here, right?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” Maxie said, getting to his feet despite his better judgment. “That did take a lot out of me, though…”

 

“You seem fine enough to me,” Blaise commented. “Come on, now, we’ve got to move.

 

 

---

 

 

The next five times that it happened were not any kinder to Maxie’s stomach.

 

By the time Maxie stumbled out of Root Path, covered in little scratches from the odd feral encounter, and feeling ever-so-slightly woozy from enduring six separate dungeon shifts, it was already dark out.

 

Blaise snorted. “That’s maybe the worst luck I’ve ever had in that place…” he muttered as he created a tiny fire to provide some light. “I promise you the next one we have to traverse won’t be nearly that bad.”

 

Wally collapsed under a tree. “You said there would be ten floors, but I counted twenty-one. You weren’t sugarcoating it for us, were you, sir?”

 

“I was not,” Blaise said. “It’s just that dungeon shifts always take you to a completely random point in the dungeon. It seems we went backwards several times.”

 

“Wait, how does anyone know how many floors are in there, then?” Maxie asked.

 

“To make a needlessly long story short, ingenuity and significant amounts of brute force. Seriously. The people who study these things for a living have my eternal respect.”

 

“Ah…” Maxie said, feeling obligated to muster up a response, but being unsure what to say.

 

“Anyways…” Blaise said. “Time to pitch the tent.”

 

“Oh!” Wally said, eager for an opportunity to prove himself useful. “I can help!”

 

“…Alright then,” Blaise said, taking out the tent. “You pitch it, then.”

 

As it turned out, being a psychic type made pitching a tent laughably easy. Wally turned back to Blaise, as if looking for approval.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Blaise asked.

 

“I wanted your opinion?” Wally suggested helpfully.

 

“Well, it’s certainly pretty good,” Blaise said, seemingly unprepared to deal with this situation.

 

Jacob agreed. The tent itself was quite big, more than big enough for the three of them, and at least one more person if needed. Somehow, there was already a lit lantern inside. That wasn’t even the last of what would go inside the tent, either, as Maxie witnessed Blaise pull out an entire table from his bag, and dump the rest of its contents on top of it.

 

“You’ve seen bags that are bigger on the inside, right?” Blaise asked. “Because your jaw has gone slack, Maxie.”

 

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just that I didn’t…” Maxie trailed off, trying to find the words. “…Expect that would fit?”

 

“I like having a large surface in the tent to visualize my thoughts,” Blaise explained, taking out a map of the isles and dumping it on the table, pinning pictures to various places as he went. “Anyway, this is a full list of everyone who I think might have a motive.”

 

Maxie scanned the table, looking at the scattered pictures and torn pieces of paper with notes scribbled on them. Immediately, he recognized a face.

 

“Isn’t this guy Steven Snorlax? The Archbishop?”

 

“Ah, I just threw him in there to be safe. If you try hard enough, you could probably connect any underhanded deed that goes on in these isles to the church somehow,” Blaise said with a wave of his hand. “That goes for the king as well. I doubt they were the prime culprits, but whoever did it probably needed their blessing to help cover the whole thing up.”

 

“And if they didn’t?” Wally asked.

 

“Then they’re taking up space on this board. But I wouldn’t zero in on them anyway. Let’s start talking about the other suspects, shall we?” Blaise pointed towards a picture of an Infernape all the way on the other side of the Eyelash Isles.

 

“Let’s start with Prince Noland. You’ve probably heard of his opinions on your mother, correct?”

 

“He, uh, called her a whore for interacting with the Guild of Honor the last time I saw him. Among other nasty things.”

 

“Yikes…” Wally commented.

 

“It probably won’t surprise you to learn that he’s actively encouraged the king to shut down her activities. He was rejected, of course, because the king seems to prefer the trade opportunities that her connections to such a far-flung part of the continent provided. If there was anyone who had a motive, it was him.”

 

“Do you think he’d actually resort to assassination, though?” Maxie asked.

 

“He has a bit of a power hungry streak, and he’s actively vying for the throne after the current king kicks the bucket. It’s possible that your mother’s death would’ve been an attempt to preemptively assert his will. It’s also true that he probably believes that the influence that a foreign power could provide would be a threat to the crown. Whatever the reason, it’s easier to come up with a motive than most. More importantly, I’ve found some serious evidence that he has a large network of spies. It wouldn’t be shocking if he could pull it off with just his own connections. We’re going to question him first.”

 

“He’s going to be in Rusty Boroughs?”

 

“Yes, alongside most royals in the Isles, actually. It’s part of why I wanted to head back so quickly. Moving along…” Blaise pointed to a picture of a Thievul. “You’ve seen her more than a few times in the past handful of months, no?”

 

“Anabel Thievul? Why her?” Wally asked.

 

“It’s simple. She kept pushing to get a cut of the tariff money flowing through Root City, didn’t she? And when she didn’t get her way…”

 

“…She resorted to murder?” Maxie asked.

 

“It wouldn’t be the first time she’s done this, either. Remember the Duke of Fort Dale?”

 

“The Passimian who disappeared several years back?” Wally asked.

 

“That was her doing,” Blaise explained. “And in the intervening years she’s asserted control over Fort Dale. She probably hoped to repeat that success over Root city. It goes without saying that her motivation is money. Although I doubt your sister would be as easily swayed as the Duke’s barely twelve-year-old son was. I partially considered cutting her because it was almost too obvious, but I didn’t think I’d be doing my due diligence in that instance.”

 

“I agree. That’s very suspicious,” Wally said, nodding.

“There’s one more notable suspect to worry about,” Blaise said, pointing to a picture of a Weavile. “That’s Tucker Weavile, and he’s suspicious mostly because he’s had a bit of a feud with your mother for quite a while now. It was over your mother’s unwillingness to house a large number of royals in a single place at once who wanted to make connections to the Guild, I believe?”

 

“I actually know what that was about,” Maxie said, remembering. “He was interested in making connections with the Guild of Honor, so he tried to get Mom to let all of his buddies come to the Town Hall to stage a meeting. He apparently wanted the Guildmaster to show up, which Mom didn’t think was a reasonable request, so she shot him down. He sent a bunch of insulting letters to her after that. It was really petty…”

 

“…Would you say that he was mostly offended rather than feeling obstructed by your mother? That’s the whole reason he’s on here. My thinking was that he could’ve seen her as an obstacle to making those connections, and decided that whoever took over would be more eager to negotiate. Not to say that—”

 

“It’s worth considering,” Maxie interrupted. “I don’t really know him well enough to say for sure, though.”

 

“Then he’ll stay on the list,” Blaise concluded. “If you think it’s worth considering, then it’s worth investigating. Any other questions about these three?”

 

“None here,” Wally stated.

 

“I don’t have any either,” Maxie added.

 

“Then now’s a good time to turn in for the night, no?” Blaise asked. “We’ll reach Fort Dale sometime in the afternoon, and stay the night there. Ideally, we’ll be in Petalworth the day after that. It’s a shame we had to give up a day due to a bad dungeon run, but things should be smooth sailing from here. The real difficulties are going to start once we reach Rusty Boroughs.”

 

Maxie had no idea how right Blaise was.

 

 

---

 

 

Maxie got up with a stretch, waking up a tiny bit early, as planned, in order to start packing his things for the day. He carefully rolled up his sleeping bag, and took out the breakfast he’d already prepared the day prior—a chesto berry sandwich. It wasn’t much, but it’d do well to get him though the day. He double-checked the contents of the bag, slung it over his shoulder, and… noticed Wally splayed out on the floor, bloodshot eyes wide open.

 

“Hey Maxie,” he said weakly.

 

Maxie groaned and decided to get the obvious question out of the way first. “Did you happen to get any sleep last night?”

 

“Uh, about two hours, maybe? I’ve got a pounding headache right now. If you could be really quiet all day, that would be greatly appreciated.”

 

“We’re gonna head into a town. That’s probably not happening today, buddy.”

 

What followed was an unnecessarily loud groan from Wally. “Oh well. At least I’m gonna have an actual bed to sleep on tonight,” he said as he got up with a stretch. “Mind giving me a bite of that sandwich?”

 

“Yeah, sure…” Maxie said, rolling his eyes as he tore off a piece for Wally to eat. “Hopefully this wakes you up a little.”

 

To the relief of both of them, it did actually seem to do the trick somewhat—Wally’s eyes instantly became a little less bloodshot. At which point, they both turned to Blaise, who, perhaps surprisingly, was the only one still asleep at this point.

 

“He’s a bit more of a heavy sleeper than you’d expect, huh?”

 

“I think that’s more us than him. I decided I’d wake up early today.”

 

“How do you just decide to wake up early, anyway? I never got that about you. Do you just think of a time and your body just does it for you? Is there a trick for it?”

 

“The former, honestly. It’s just this weird thing I’ve always been able to do,” Maxie explained. “It’s never been that weird for me, though. I always thought it was normal, you know?”

 

“…I see,” Wally said slowly.

 

The duo continued making small talk like this for about thirty minutes before Blaise finally awoke. When he got up, he was surprisingly silent, making them jump the second he did.

 

“Good morning,” he said to the two of them. “Early risers?”

 

“I am, he isn’t,” Maxie said very quickly, followed by a nod from Wally that Maxie couldn’t decide if it was appreciative or in agreement. Perhaps it was both.

 

“That’s all well and good, but you should really appreciate your beauty rests before we get to Rusty Boroughs. That place isn’t going to afford us many.”

 

“Really?” Wally groaned.

 

“As I have emphasized for what feels like the tenth time by now, this is a dangerous mission where we may or may not find ourselves in mortal peril. Please don’t let your guards down once we get there. Understand?”

 

The two friends nodded silently.

 

“Good,” Blaise observed. “Let’s hit the road.”

 

Packing everything up went smoothly enough, all things considered. Wally had a bit of trouble un-pitching the entire tent, given the impact of his headache on his ability to use his psychic powers.

 

“If you want, I could have one of my psychic type friends show you some tricks for dealing with headaches,” Blaise suggested.

 

“I’d appreciate it, thanks,” Wally said. “I’d rather just take a nap once we get to Fort Dale, though…”

 

Blaise chuckled. “Well, that just goes without saying, doesn’t it? I do think you’re lacking some sorely-needed experience, though.”

 

“You’ve said that more than once now…” Wally pointed out.

 

“It bears repeating,” Blaise replied. “On another note, don’t these fields look stunning in the early morning?”

 

“Yeah…” Maxie agreed readily. The grass looked almost golden in the early-morning sun, which gave the whole area an almost dreamlike aesthetic. “It’s like I’m looking at a painting right now.”

 

“Indeed. This is one of the better sites for natural beauty in the Isles. Shame nobody seems to talk about it…” Blaise trailed off.

 

“Really?” Maxie asked. “Shouldn’t more people be taking this path?”

 

“They should, but they don’t. Most travelers seem to prefer taking a longer route to get around having to traverse a barrier dungeon. That’s why Fort Dale’s in a bad shape these days. But I’m getting ahead of myself; you’ll see what I mean when we actually get there.”

 

“I have a pretty good idea, just going off of that description…” Wally commented.

 

Blaise’s words proved true. Fort Dale barely qualified for a town; its roads were unpaved, instead consisting of simple dirt paths. It wasn’t very hard to see the entire town from its edge, either. If not for the street lamps, Jacob would’ve doubted that those who lived there knew what a lightbulb was. Where even is their source of power? he wondered. A cursory glance towards the nearby river would answer that question, but he was still left wondering how that dinky watermill managed to power the whole town.

 

In hindsight, that should’ve been obvious. There wasn’t much to power.

 

“So, uh, where are we staying?” Wally asked. “I don’t see a hotel…”

 

“An inn, Wally,” Blaise responded, sounding almost annoyed. “We’re staying at an inn.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

 

“What are you talking about? Yes it does,” Maxie responded.

 

“I… uh… hm. Alrighty then,” Wally replied.

 

“Please show a little respect for the locals,” Blaise requested. “If I catch you saying this place is a dump in earshot of any of them, I’ll set you straight myself.”

 

“I-I wasn’t—” Wally took in a deep breath. “I just didn’t know places like this existed, that’s all. I’ve only ever been in cities.”

 

“…Sure,” Blaise slowly said. “Let’s just get a move on to the inn. You clearly need the nap.”

 

“Yeah…” Maxie agreed. “He does, doesn’t he?”

 

“Somehow, I feel like I’ve been insulted…” Wally bemoaned.

 

The inn itself was rather homely—seemingly just an extension tacked onto someone else’s house.

 

“Welcome to—” the Tropius at the desk started, before catching sight of Blaise. “Oh, it’s you. You want the single bedroom again?”

 

“I’m traveling with these two now,” Blaise replied. “We need at least two.”

 

“I’ll get you the room with two beds and a couch in it, then,” the Tropius said, tossing Blaise a key. “I’m assuming you know what my nightly rate is by now, right?”

 

“Of course. I’ll have the payment ready in the morning.”

 

“Good. Have a nice rest; those beds are quite comfortable.”

 

To the Tropius’ credit, the room was remarkably clean—there didn’t seem to be a speck of dust anywhere in it. Wally wasted no time collapsing onto the nearer of the two beds and falling asleep with a speed Maxie couldn’t help but admire.

 

“He asked if we were mocking him, but honestly, it was just a statement of fact…” Maxie grumbled as he set his bag down next to the couch. “Look at him. Out like a light.”

 

“I’ll say…” Blaise carefully put his own bag down next to the wall. “I’d offer you the other bed, but that couch is a bit too small for me.”

 

Maxie looked at the couch, and then at Blaise, who was nearly a whole foot taller. “Gee, ya think?”

 

Blaise laughed. “No need to get up in arms, Prince Maxie. Just pointing it out, that’s all.”

 

Maxie took out his pillow and sleeping bag, and hastily threw it over the couch. “Are there any restaurants around here?” he asked. “We haven’t had lunch yet.”

 

“Oh, you’re going to love the one they have around here. It’s run by this man from the mainland, and he knows how to cook up a truly mind-blowing dish. It’ll rock your world.”

 

Jacob would be delighted to learn that Italian cuisine had its analogue in this world. It was a nice bright spot in such a bleak mission. Especially given what was to come…

 

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