Bonehead moved stiffly across the floor, joints clicking with every motion as he crouched by the alchemical table, sweeping rows of labeled vials – some still faintly glowing – into the opening of his Spatial Satchel. The inside of it shimmered with faint arcane light, swallowing every item with a soft shhp as it disappeared into storage.
"Okay, what else am I missing?" Bonehead muttered, voice dry and hollow like old parchment as he tilted his skull slightly, scanning the clutter of beakers, tinctures, bundles of dried herbs, and rolled parchment scrolls. "No way I'm forgetting the sulfur tincture again, not after last time…"
He reached for a stack of old notes and paused as something glossy slid out from beneath a half-empty bottle of Salamander Blood.
"…Huh."
There, lying at an odd angle between the yellowing edge of a blueprint and a small tray of crushed emerald root, were nine skin magazines, the covers perfectly laminated. A scandalous drawing of a water nymph doing a questionable pose stared up at him with a smirk that made his jaw creak as he looked around out of pure instinct – despite the fact that no one was supposed to be in the lab but him.
He stared at them for a good five seconds, motionless except for the faint rattling of a loose vertebra in his neck.
"Do I really need these?" he asked himself out loud, bony fingers hesitating just inches from the covers. "I mean, probably not. Definitely not. But also waiting to reach Floor Five's World Map and checking out their…"
He trailed off, letting a beat of silence pass by.
Then, with one swift motion, he grabbed them all and carefully tucked them into his Spatial Satchel without a trace of shame.
Just as the enchanted mouth of the Spatial Satchel swallowed up the skin mags, the alchemy room door slammed open with such force that it bounced off the stone brick wall and caused several glass bottles to clink dangerously against each other on nearby shelves, and a couple to tip over and shatter.
Two small human children charged in, both wearing anti-Undead Miasma charms that glowed faintly around their necks, sniffling and wide-eyed.
"Brother, noooo!" the younger one cried, practically sliding to a stop on the smooth floor and flinging himself at Bonehead's knees, arms wrapping around the bare bones of his left shin. "Don't leave! You said you wouldn't leave until three more weeks, why are you leaving now?"
The older boy was only a year or two ahead, but his tear-streaked face didn't hide much better behind the half-hearted pout he was trying to hold. "Can't you stay for one more night? You said you'd teach us how to make Sleepmist bombs so we can prank our teachers."
Bonehead blinked, metaphorically speaking, and looked down at both of them, hands hovering in mid-air as if unsure what to do with them.
"I know, but I was just told by my friends that something happened, and I have to go now," Bonehead replied, softly rubbing the tops of both of his brothers' heads. "We can make them next time when I get free."
"You're gonna get hurt out there, if you're not going with the other alchemist group!" The younger one cried again, tugging at his leg.
"I don't get hurt easy, you know that, plus I have Sam on my side, you remember him, right, Elijah, Colton?" Bonehead said, finally reaching down and wrapping his armored arms around them both, careful not to get any leftover phosphorus powder on him. "And I'll just be gone for a couple of months. I'll be back before you even know it."
"You could've just said no," the older one, Colton, muttered.
"I can't just abandon my friends when they need me," Bonehead replied softly, pressing his skull against Colton's head. "How would you feel if you knew that your little buddy, Fa're, needed help? Would you help him?"
"…Yeah," Colton muttered, turning his gaze to the floor and pouting.
The sound of quiet sniffling and the faint ticking of the manaclock on the wall were broken by the creak of the worn hinges on the door that led into the kitchen down the hallway.
"Bennett!" a sharp, exasperated voice called from down the hallway before the figure behind it came into view. Their mother stepped into the room with all the authority of someone who'd raised three rowdy boys, and still found time to win arguments with city officials in the day and alchemists who frequently get hyper-focused on their work at night.
She wore a thick linen apron over her robes, flour smudged across her sleeves, and a faint smell of cinnamon trailing after her. In her hands was a wooden tray balanced with the precision of a practiced spellcaster, holding a clutter of small, familiar objects.
"I swear on the system, you better not be leaving again without these." She didn't wait for a response before nudging the tray against his chest. "You left your emergency Mana Replenishing Pills on the windowsill next to the toaster, your daggers under your brothers' bunk, and a couple of your necrotoxins – don't give me that look – in the damn oven."
Bonehead blinked slowly, then looked down at the tray in his arms. The items sat nestled like guilty pets. One of the vials was even still uncorked.
"…You found the necrotoxins in the oven?"
"Yes," she said flatly. "Next to the bread I stashed in there yesterday afternoon. Which I had to throw out after I saw that it was moldy, and clean the entire oven afterwards."
Behind her, his father, the one who beat his ass with his holy belt, stepped in while carrying an old leather-bound journal that looked like it had been left on the roof again, judging by the bird droppings on the cover.
"You also forgot this," he said simply, offering the journal forward like a passing of a torch. "This is a collection of the herbs I've discovered and catalogued while exploring Floor One to Floor Twenty's World Maps. You left it on the couch just before you ran out of the house last night."
Bonehead took both with a sheepish nod. "Thanks. I didn't mean to–"
"We know," their father cut in gently. "You never do. That's why we check."
There was a beat of silence, broken only by Elijah wiping his nose on Bonehead's robe and Colton doing the same.
Their mother finally sighed, stepping back and dusting her hands on her apron. "Alright, alright, enough dramatics. You've got that look in your eyes. Go climb the Tower and have fun with your friends. But be safe, if you ever get in extreme danger, use what we gave you, okay?"
"I promise," Bonehead replied with what might have been a grin if his face had any flesh on it. He reached down, scooping up both Elijah and Colton in one bony arm and giving them one last hug before setting them gently back on the ground. "I'll visit when I can."
"You better," Colton muttered, folding his arms.
Elijah just nodded, eyes watery again. "Be safe, okay?"
"I'll try," Bonehead replied, slinging the satchel over his shoulder, journal in hand, and Spatial Satchel pulsing softly at his side as he walked out of his alchemy lab that took over the garage and began to make his way toward Sam's house.
***
Sam brushed a hand back through his blonde hair, fingers snagging the edge of a pen he had tucked behind his ear. The old leather strap on his non-enchanted satchel looked just about to snap as it was stuffed with tomes and various books as he was going down the stone corridor lined with brass lanterns and various murals depicting his family's long and prolific history.
He had been in the archive chambers longer than he intended, digging through the thousands of books and tomes for anything that so much as mentioned Level 0s or newly initiated individuals that emerged from the Tower.
Unfortunately, unless he received the permission of his father, the tomes and books he'd taken from the Family Archives would be unable to enter a spatial storage of any kind.
His fingers still itched with that familiar sense of unease, as even after reading through hundreds of them, he had yet to find anything that would give him a definitive answer with hard proof.
As he rounded the last corner leading to the hall's eastern exit, a voice called out behind him.
"Samuel."
Fuck, Sam thought to himself just before he released an exhale of defeat, as the steps at the end of the hall proceeded to get closer to him, he turned with a strained half-smile already plastered across his face.
His eyes opened to reveal his older brother standing with his arms folded across his chest, effortlessly portraying that he was from nobility with his hair tied back in a neat, long tail, his boots polished, his cloak pristine, and his clothes perfectly done.
"You're leaving." His brother stated.
"You're observant as always, Callen," Sam said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm as he adjusted the strap of his satchel again. "Yes. I am. Thank you for noticing."
Callen's eyes narrowed slightly. "The records showed you requested restricted sections. And cross-referenced them with mentions of civilizations that were found living on a Floor prior to them appearing inside the Tower… Why?"
Sam glanced toward the archway leading out. "I don't have time for this."
"You never do," Callen snapped, stepping into his path. "That's the problem. You run off to do whatever you wish without any thought for the family. You were told by Father to remain in this household until the end of the month in order for you to finish engraving the remaining Tier 1 Family Spells onto your soul… But now I'm hearing that you're leaving to go off and climb the Tower without even informing Father and Mother?"
"Funny how quick the walls around here like to talk," Sam muttered, not denying it.
"Who are they? I know they are not nobles, else Mother and Father would have been over the moon about it."
Sam met his brother's gaze evenly. "People who don't ask endless questions."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting," Sam said, brushing past. He could feel Callen's disapproval practically drilling into the back of his head.
"You're not cleared to take tomes from the fourth vault," Callen said after him.
Sam paused at the door, resting a hand against the cool wooden frame.
"Yeah," he admitted. "But you and I both know Father won't notice they're gone until long after I've found what I'm looking for."
Sam barely made it twenty steps past the archway before the echo of heavy boots clapping against marble caught up to him.
"Samuel."
This time, the voice wasn't calm or measured like his brother's, it was gruff and oozed with unrestrained power.
He stopped and braced himself for a couple of seconds before slowly turning to face the man who called out his name. "Father," he said.
His Father, Lord Ferros of House Barrenthal, stood just beyond the threshold of the corridor, his hands behind his back and expression carved from stone, as he was covered in the colors of their household – gold and black.
"I heard you've packed for a climb," Lord Ferros said, his voice clipped. "Without my approval. And most concerning of all…" His eyes narrowed. "Without selecting any nobles for your party."
Sam's jaw flexed, but he kept his voice even. "I didn't know I needed nobles who can barely be able to hold a candle to my friends to climb the Tower with. The ones you made me meet up with are useless; they can barely cast beginner spells properly."
"They are not useless; they are allies, assets. You think you'll get far with the riffraff you've been parading around with?" Ferros stepped closer, the sound of his boots landing on polished stone filling the space between them. "They'll hold you back. You have the Barrenthal name – use it. Wield it. Or do you plan to squander it, like your uncle did?"
Sam met his father's gaze, biting down on the inside of his cheek to hold back the sharp reply bubbling up.
"I don't need their names to prove myself," he said instead.
"No?" Ferros questioned with a humorless chuckle. "You're arrogant enough to think your blood alone will carry you after you bleed it dry for resources. Let me tell you something, boy – your mother and I have bled more blood in service of this House than you could ever imagine. And if you think-!"
Before Lord Ferros could continue, the sound of hurried steps approached from behind his father, and called out, "Enough."
Her silver-streaked hair was tied in a braided loop over one shoulder, and the long violet robe she wore trailed behind her like silk mist.
"Let the boy breathe," she said gently, walking straight past her husband and pulling Sam into a tight embrace.
Sam blinked, caught off guard as her arms wrapped around him. She kissed the side of his face, just below his eye.
"I packed you extra Restoration Pills and granted you permission to store those books and tomes into your Spatial Necklace," she whispered.
" Thank you," Sam mumbled against her shoulder, the weight in his chest easing just slightly.
She pulled back with a smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek, watching as the stress left her boy's face, before turning towards her husband. Without saying a word, she stepped behind him, began rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades.
Her other hand flicked behind her back and gave Sam a subtle, but very clear, wink.
He didn't hesitate. Slinging his satchel over his shoulder, he turned and started for the front hall.
Behind him, he heard his father's voice rise again, though softer now. "You're indulging him too much. He's wasting his potential with these commoners – "
"I know," Lady Barrenthal said, her voice quiet enough that only her husband would hear. "But he needs to experience it himself. He's at the age where rebellion is half the reason he does anything. Let him stumble. Let him get bruised. Whatever he faces while climbing the Tower, he's already skilled enough to handle whatever it could throw at him as he climbs."
A long pause.
"He'll hit Floor Ten. Eleven at the most. They won't be able to keep up with him. And when that happens…" she pressed another kiss to her husband's cheek, "he'll come running back home. I've already spoken with the heads of the Lyndros and Vaeleen Houses. Their parties will be more than ready to welcome our son – once he's ready to accept what he is."
Lord Ferros said nothing. Just stood still as her hands kept working slow circles across his back, watching as Sam rushed out of the manor.
"Come on," Lady Barrenthal whispered in his ear. "I know of a way to get rid of all this stress in you."