I have decided to have a few shorter (2k) chapters
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Sunless could sympathize—grudgingly—with how the situation might have looked from the perspective of the young man trapped at the bottom of the well. His voice was beautiful, like velvet and silver, but no amount of charm could mask the sheer panic simmering beneath its polish.
The only thing worse than approaching a foreboding well in the dead of night, haunted by the suspicion that some ancient and malevolent creature lay waiting in its depths… was being *inside* that well, completely at its mercy, imagining something abominable peering down at you from above.
At least Sunless had options. If things turned ugly, he could fight. The poor soul down there? He had nowhere to run. No shadows to melt into, no cards to play. Just stone and darkness. The only weapon he had was that voice—and a surprising amount of sarcasm for someone in mortal danger.
Of course, there was still a chance this whole thing was a deception. A clever ruse, performed by some unspeakably cunning horror. That possibility lurked at the edges of Sunless's mind, cold and persistent. He couldn't afford to let his guard down. Not even for a moment.
Still… the voice had struck a nerve. There was something in it. Not quite familiar, but not alien either. Something *human.*
'So,' he mused, lips curling in a faint, rueful smile. 'If he's not a monster… how do I convince him that *I'm* not one?'
An ironic dilemma. Not exactly a skill they taught in the Dreamer Academy. He had no proof. No papers. No talisman to ward off fear. Just his reputation—which, in this part of the city, was as much a curse as a shield.
He defaulted to what had worked for him over the last few brutal months: control. Authority. Cold command. The mask of the Duke.
He cleared his throat, voice flattening into that well-practiced, iron-hard tone.
"I ordered you to identify yourself. Do so… or suffer the consequences."
There was a beat of silence, long and heavy. Then the voice from below sighed with tragic resignation:
"…Yeah. It's definitely all over for me. Oh well. I had a good run, I guess…"
Sunless stared down the dark shaft, expression impassive. He exhaled through his nose, rubbing the bridge of it with a gloved hand.
"Stop panicking, you idiot. I really am human."
The voice chuckled, airy and amused despite its situation.
"Please forgive me if I don't believe you, sir."
The "sir" was almost theatrical, edged with dry humor—but there was also a flicker of instinctive deference in it. A polite, respectful tilt. Honorifics, as if speaking to some eldritch ancient.
Sunless sighed inwardly.
"Why the honorifics? I'm probably younger than you."
There was a pause. A shift in the air. Then:
"…Wait. You really *are* human?"
A sliver of hope in that voice now. The first real crack.
Sunless felt something flicker in his chest. He smiled, just faintly.
"Yes. I really am."
The young man's reply came after a thoughtful beat:
"…Then what are you doing here? Alone, in the middle of the night? With no light? No offense, Mister Monster, but that's not exactly what I'd call typical human behavior. You might want to polish the story a bit before you go huntingagain. Just a friendly suggestion."
Sunless scoffed, but the corners of his mouth twitched.
"Very funny. My Aspect lets me hide in the dark. And see through it. Not that I owe you an explanation."
There was a moment of quiet. Then the voice softened, subdued:
"…Fair enough. As for me, I ended up down here the usual way. Some thugs tried to shake me down for my Memories. I declined—politely, I might add. They didn't appreciate that. So here I am. They've been trying to coerce a transfer ever since. Not very creatively, I must say. These guys couldn't terrify a toddler."
Sunless narrowed his eyes. The pieces fit, mostly. Idiots like that were common enough. Keeping a prisoner in a place like this, though… that was asking for divine punishment.
'Which, I suppose,' he thought, glancing around the ruined street, 'they just got. Courtesy of Alice.'
There was still no trace of the dancer she'd asked him to find. Just this pit, and this voice, and another dead end.
"I see."
He turned with a sigh and began to walk away, boots brushing against debris. But then—
"Wait! Wait! Are you really human?"
Sunless paused, scowling over his shoulder.
"I *am.* I've said that already."
The voice climbed in urgency:
"Can you get me out of here? I don't think they're coming back tonight. If you help me escape, I'll make it worth your while."
Sunless raised an eyebrow.
"In what way could *you* possibly reward *me*?"
There was a pause. Then:
"…I'm rich. Really. I've got a whole stash of soul shards back in the castle. A small fortune. Ten shards, minimum. Half of it's yours if you get me out of this pit."
Sunless blinked. Soul shards? He nearly laughed. The only person in the city with more shards than him was probably Gunlaug. Not that he needed more.
But being owed a favor by someone wealthy? That *was* useful. Especially if it helped with his little public image problem. He was heading to the castle anyway. The artisans would be expecting the Fallen corpses, along with a few of Prince's fruits for experimentation.
"…Do people know you have a fortune?"
A note of surprise.
"Well, yes? I mean, I'm not shy about spending. Entertainment, mostly. Art, performances. I'm… something of a patron, I guess."
That, finally, clicked something into place.
Sunless's expression darkened slightly. He'd been looking for a *dancer.* And he had, stupidly, assumed she would be a *woman.*
"…Let me guess. You're employed by Alice."
A spark of relief, joy even, lit the man's voice.
"Oh yes! She's been a *fantastic* manager. Got me a proper venue and everything!"
There it was. The dancer. Not a she. A *he.*
Sunless felt something almost like fond amusement curl in his gut. Cassie would have figured it out faster—she never got tripped up by assumptions like that. She had a way of seeing people as they really were.
*He missed her. More than he expected to.*
There was just one problem now. The grate could be removed easily. But getting the guy *out* of the well was another matter. It was deep. Too deep for a simple rope toss. The Prowling Thorn wouldn't reach far enough. He wasn't about to climb down himself, either—Sunless drew the line at crawling into potential monster traps, thank you very much.
And he still wasn't *completely* convinced the voice belonged to a person.
"…What's your name?"
The answer was swift.
"It's Kai."
Sunless stared down into the blackness.
"Well, Kai, unless you can fly… I don't think I can help you."
There was silence. Heavy and prolonged.
Then, in an oddly calm tone:
"…I can."
Sunless froze.
"…What?"
Had he misheard?
No. He was certain.
Kai's voice came again, casual as a whisper:
"I can fly. It's my Aspect Ability."
Sunless stared into the pit.
Well. That was new.
"…Huh."
Sunny stood in silence, turning Kai's claim over in his mind. An Aspect that allowed flight... rare, certainly. Not unheard of, but rare enough to raise an eyebrow. And here, of all places—on the Forgotten Shore, where nightfall didn't just bring darkness, but devouring black tides—it wasn't just rare. It was invaluable.
He briefly imagined how much easier the Labyrinth would have been with someone like Kai around. Alice's bizarre companion, Puffy, was strange enough and could only be understood by her. But a person who could actually fly? That was practically cheating. It suddenly made sense why the young man had managed to accumulate a small fortune in soul shards. And it explained why the thugs who'd thrown him into this well hadn't been particularly eager to break him—Kai was much more valuable alive. Especially if they had been trying to extract *Shard Memories* from him. That kind of operation didn't work on a corpse.
Sunny stayed where he was, motionless. Thinking. Measuring. Weighing the situation as he always did, because that was how you survived.
Then, Kai's voice drifted up from the well again, pleasant but a little wary now:
"Well? Will you help me?"
Sunny exhaled through his nose and slowly approached the dark mouth of the well, stepping around the rubble and ash with soundless feet.
"Alright," he said. "I'll remove the grate, and you can fly out. But I don't care about your shards. If you want to leave that pit alive, you'll have to do something for me instead."
Kai hesitated. "…What kind of something?"
Sunny smiled faintly.
"I'll let you know when it matters. Don't worry, nothing you can't handle. Just a few errands in the castle. So, deal or no deal? Because I'm not in the mood to play savior all night."
There was a beat of silence before Kai answered, voice quiet but resigned:
"…We have a deal."
Sunny's smile widened a little, cold and humorless. "Good. One more thing—if you try to fly off and skip out, I *will* find you. A man's word is all he has in this place, wouldn't you agree?"
Kai took a moment to reply. "…Yeah, no problem."
Sunny turned his gaze to the well's throat, where blackness sat like a curtain, impenetrable even to most Awakened. He was reasonably sure the voice below belonged to a human, but reasonable wasn't certain. So, like always, he prepared for the worst.
Without a word, Stone Saint emerged from the shadows, her heavy form silent as death. She stationed herself near the well, her massive shield resting against her armored leg, ready to intervene at the slightest signal.
Sunny, meanwhile, activated the enchantment of [Nevermore's Embrace], black tendrils of power sliding under his skin like cold oil. He stepped forward, grasped the iron grate, and heaved.
The sound it made was awful—an agonizing screech of metal grinding against stone that tore through the stillness like a blade. But the grate moved. Slowly, inexorably, it slid aside under Sunny's hands.
He stepped back, tense, every muscle taut.
…And then nothing happened.
Seconds passed.
More seconds.
Sunny tilted his head.
"…Aren't you coming up?"
Kai's voice floated out of the dark, sheepish and cautious.
"You see… I just thought of something."
Sunny's sword lowered an inch.
"What now?"
The pause stretched again before Kai replied:
"Well… that grate didn't even budge when I tried to move it. Took six of them to lock me down here. Big guys, too. So…"
He trailed off, then added carefully:
"I know we already settled the whole 'not a monster' thing, but… you wouldn't mind explaining how you moved it so easily?"
Sunny let out a sigh and muttered something unkind under his breath.
'Great. He's even more paranoid than I am.'
He was reluctant to reveal anything about his arsenal, but this situation left him little room to maneuver.
"Just a strength-enhancing Memory," he said, voice clipped.
There was a pause. Then Kai's voice returned, now inquisitive:
"Oh? That's pretty lucky. Not many people in the castle have one of those. I'd know—I keep track."
Then, as if casually, he added:
"By the way… what's your name?"
Sunny narrowed his eyes slightly. A little warning light flared somewhere in his thoughts.
"…Sunless."
There was a short silence, then the prisoner of the well laughed—a pleasant, melodious sound with a faint edge of desperation.
"Sunless? That doesn't sound like a name a soul-devouring horror would choose at all! Very reassuring."
Sunny didn't laugh. He was too busy imagining what it would take to leap into the well, impale Kai mid-air, and vanish before anyone noticed the body.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Enough jokes. Climb out of the well before I change my mind."
Kai's laughter tapered off into an uneasy chuckle. Then:
"There's no one in the castle with that name."
Sunny didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Then came the dawning realization in Kai's tone:
"E-Except… except the duke…"
'Oh, come on.'
Sunny had tried very hard to cultivate a reputation of aloof, quiet menace, but this was getting ridiculous.
"In the flesh," he muttered dryly. "Now climb."
Kai audibly swallowed.
"So… the one who wanders the cursed ruins at night, commands a soul-devouring Echo, has the strength of six men, and dwells beyond the city's walls… did I miss anything?"
Sunny gave him a grim look.
"Not really."
There was a beat.
Then Kai, with gallows humor, said:
"…Would *you* come out of the well to meet a guy like that?"
Sunny smiled slightly. There was no warmth in it.
"If I were you, I would. You know why?"
Kai's voice was cautious again. "Why?"
The smile faded.
"Because I can put that grate back."
He didn't wait. And he nudged the grate just enough to let the iron shriek against stone again—slow, deliberate, unmistakable.
It worked instantly.
"Uh—wait! Okay! I'm coming! Stop!"
The Saint released the grate, letting it settle back with a soft thud. Silence returned.
Then, in a quieter, mutinous voice:
"…You'd better not be a demon. Stand clear. I'm coming out."
Sunny stepped back, watching with shadowed eyes.
He didn't know exactly what would emerge from the well.
But whatever it was—
He was ready.