The abyssal shock of a Delve washes over me in a roiling golden fog.

  It digs at my skin, my scales, my , scraping away the

  World like bits of dried mud. For a heartbeat, I am laid bare before

  the fog, raw like healing skin and fragile like fresh scales.

  My foot finds purchase on solid ground, my head breaches the fog, and

  my soul curls back in on itself contentedly. A subtle pressure

  remains, like I'm at the bottom of a pond, but it's something I got

  used to years ago. My stomach twinges slightly, but it's an easy

  feeling to push down.

  Helena, though? Those feelings won't be subtle or slight. The

  pressure of a Delve changes people, over time— the same way magic

  changes Mages. It’s what made me a Drake, melding scales with flesh

  to armor my soul. She doesn’t have any of that, but I’ll take

  solace in her at least avoiding the cramps.

  "Never gets old," I say to myself, taking a deep breath of

  Delve air. My voice echoes back at me a moment later, accompanied by

  the sound of waves against a sandy shore.

  Oh, this is an interesting one. An ocean stretches on endlessly

  behind the portal, meeting an equally infinite beach that runs up

  against a massive, weathered cliff face. Blocky, plaster-white

  buildings jut stubbornly from the cliff, as if a city was turned on

  its side and fused to the stone, roads and all. Flower-laden vines

  crawl from open windows, curling up towards the sunless sky.

  I look further up, and my eyebrows rise a bit higher. On top of the

  cliff is a perfect copy of the chapel the Delve portal is in, only

  with an intact door.

  Well, that's our destination, no doubt. The wheels in my mind churn,

  planning a route for climbing the cliff. Flying monsters? Probably.

  Mobile, hostile vines? Most likely.

  With that on my mind, I turn back towards the portal— still

  shimmering an innocent gold, as if it hadn't tried to spit out some

  unknown horror at me an hour ago. Whatever it was, it'd wandered off

  or was lying in wait.

  No matter how shallow the depth is, there’s always a risk of

  something dangerous bubbling up from below. Things I can’t just rip

  apart or kill.

  Learning how to spot them is an essential skill for a Delver, paired

  with the navigational practice to escape a Delve quickly.

  The portal ripples. The pressure in the air lessens, and my soul

  uncoils eagerly as the World dips down to connect to the Delve. I

  take a half-step forward— wait, should I catch her? Should I give

  her space? What if she comes flying through and knocks us both over,

  or catching her startles her? Gods. This is why I don’t work with

  new Delvers, except when a Guildmaster makes it worth my while.

  Always a mess.

  Shaking my head, I step back and to the side, checking the ground for

  any sharp rocks. When I find the singular offender, I kick it into

  the ocean with a satisfying .

  Not a moment too soon, as it turns out. Helena comes tumbling out of

  the portal headfirst, red-faced and gasping, barely managing to stand

  on wobbly legs.

  The World recedes, and Helena's knees buckle under the pressure of

  the Delve. She slumps to the ground, hands digging into the sand.

  That’s... not bad, actually. I remember falling face-first into the

  dirt on my first try, not that I’d ever tell anyone that.

  “Ahh, Restoration protect me,” Helena pants out, hands running

  through mussed hair. “I—”

  She stops, shaking her head, and exhales sharply.

  Feeling a twinge of sympathy, I drop into a crouch next to her,

  bringing our eyes level. “So, how do you feel?”

  Helena raises her gaze, meets my eyes, and stares. Her eyes have

  taken on a prismatic, turquoise hue under the pressure of a Delve,

  with pupils ever so slightly elongated at the top and bottom.

  “Your eyes,” she says quietly, looking away. Her breathing is

  calming down, now, but she puts a hand to her chest anyways. “I

  read that eyes, um, change, but I didn’t really know how much—

  um. Sorry for staring.”

  I can’t help but grin in return, biting back a small laugh.

  “Yellow-orange and slit like a lizard’s, right? I don’t mind

  being stared at.”

  Helena’s cheeks flush a bright, bright red. “Um. So.”

  Gods, I really do need to think before I speak. Clearing my throat, I

  gesture to myself, and then to her. “Yeah. They’re mountain drake

  eyes. Better for low light and long distance vision, and so on. But,

  right, how are you feeling? Delve pressure takes time to get used

  to.”

  Helena takes a long, shuddering breath, and nods. “I... thank you.

  I’m alright, I think. I knew what to expect, I even exercised a

  bit, but it wasn't enough. And the intensity only increases as we go

  deeper?”

  My tail rakes along the ground, tossing a puff of sand into the air.

  “Yeah. Don't worry about growing horns or something on your first

  Delve, that takes a lot longer. You’re more likely to see changes

  from regular magic use, unless you make a habit of it."

  She runs a hand through her hair, fiddling with strands nervously.

  “Oh, that's, I'm not worried. I already knew that would happen to

  me as a Mage. And, ah, I think I can stand up on my own now.”

  Taking that cue for what it is, I stand up and back away.

  Grunting, Helena arranges her legs in front of her, braces a hand on

  the ground, and pushes herself up. After a few moments of inspecting

  herself, twisting to check her backside and brushing sand off

  everywhere, she plucks a single grain of sand out of her hair and

  squints.

  I clear my throat. “Helena?”

  “What...” She shakes her head, still staring at the sand. “No,

  that’s not right. I— sand isn’t. Um.”

  I close the distance, leaning a bit to look at the grain of sand

  balanced on the tip of her finger. Perfectly round, and a nice tan

  color. "Sand , definitely. Looks too perfect, though."

  Helena nods sharply, eagerly, cheeks reddening. "Exactly!

  Individual grains of sand aren’t sand colored, usually, it’s the

  result of all the different colors of eroded stones combining.”

  I start raking my brain for the answer to her question while I speak.

  “The sand is sand colored. I'm no scholar, but it's Delve trickery,

  so I have a hunch."

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Well, technically, I am a scholar. I went to a university in Caliburn

  before the rebellion turned into a civil war, even. But it isn’t

  time for that, nor would any of my classes help with this.

  Helena picks up what I’m saying, though, and nods. “Delves are,

  um, abstract, right?”

  I raise an eyebrow, gesturing to the buildings jutting out of the

  cliffside. Now that I’m looking closer, there’s even a fountain

  in the middle of the town, with the water flowing towards the cliff

  rather than with the direction of gravity.

  Helena gapes a little, eyes wide and glittering, then nods. “I— I

  was... I need to be more aware of my surroundings, don’t I. Even if

  you’re here to protect me.”

  “I’m not invincible, just extremely durable,” I shrug, dragging

  another line through the sand with my tail. “So, the sand? It isn’t

  actually . It’s the—”

  “—The idea of sand!” Helena finishes for me, eyes still shining

  brightly. She offers a warm smile my way, looking quite satisfied

  with herself. “So each grain has to look like how all the sand

  looks. Fascinating!”

  She takes a notebook out of her bag, selects a wrapped stick of

  charcoal, and hurriedly writes something down. Her lips move along

  with the words, and I steer my attention away from her and towards

  our surroundings. Here to protect her, huh? Might as well go along

  with that. Maybe she can even help me seal the Delve!

  Following that train of thought, I cross my arms and drum my fingers

  against my forearm. "So, do you know how to seal a Delve?"

  Helena brightens, if such a thing is even possible. "Oh! I've

  been reading about that! I can at least follow along."

  I jerk my chin towards her. "Go on. What do you already know?"

  "I know we need to go deep enough to find a Delve Heart. Is

  'Delve Heart' the right term?" She glances up at me for

  confirmation, holding my gaze for a few seconds. When I nod, she

  continues, "And then we bring it up and use it to close the

  portal. But those only appear starting one to two layers down... so,

  we need to find the deepest point on this layer to get to the next

  one, at least."

  I mull it over, digesting her words. "I'd rather use marches

  than layers as a reference, but that's good enough for now. Inside a

  Delve isn't the best time for that discussion."

  And, I add silently, hopefully Helena won't run off once we get out.

  "Oh, of course." Helena shakes her head quickly, as if to

  send thoughts flying off her. She glances up at my eyes again,

  wavers, and looks away. "Um. So would the deepest point be in

  the ocean behind us? I’m not a very good swimmer, but I do have

  some limited water-breathing spells I can use. Or..."

  There’s audible concern in her voice. I offer an apologetic smile

  before turning and pointing at the chapel on the cliff. "Hoping

  we don't have to climb? I hate to break it to you, but..."

  "... it's at the top of the cliff. Depth isn't literal, of

  course." Helena exhales sharply, rolling her shoulders and

  flipping through another book. "Right! I, um, did prepare for

  this! I have gloves and an air cushion spell, this shouldn't be much

  of a problem."

  And, sure enough, she pulls out a pair of fingerless gloves, sliding

  them on. Despite her obvious nerves, she’s still flickering between

  smiles and studious frowns as she reads pages from her books.

  “That should do, yeah. We’ll use the cobbled road—” I point

  at a road that nearly touches the beach, “Like a sort of climbing

  wall. If there’s monsters, we’ll shuffle into one of the

  buildings to get more free space. Then we can stick to the plans we

  talked about.”

  “Stay behind you, call out if I try something big, and shout if

  something goes after me directly. But, we should also test the vines

  to see if they can bear weight, or,” she nods to herself, chewing

  on her lip. “Do you think these vines will try to grab us? I’ve

  read a lot of books about monsters being plant-shaped. Wait, what if

  the cobblestones just fall out when we touch them?”

  In the face of her questions, I just shrug, striding on over to the

  cliff face and attached road. Helena has to jog to keep pace, so I

  slow down slightly. “I can’t know until I check either of those

  things. Delves aren’t exactly consistent with each other. I’ll

  take a look when we get closer, toss a rock at them to see what

  happens.”

  Once we’re close enough, I look for some good handholds on the

  cobbled road— and isn’t that a strange thing to say— before

  hopping up and grabbing for them. Part of me hopes this will be a

  nice Delve, changing the direction of gravity so we could actually

  walk on the road.

  My hands find purchase, and gravity remains in the correct direction.

  Ah well. "Do you think you can pull your own weight?"

  I sigh, swinging my feet up and planting them high enough that I'd

  get leverage. "Literally, I mean. This takes effort, and even if

  Delves take the edge off of strain, it doesn't make people that much

  stronger."

  "I'll follow your path up. If it can hold you, it can hold me.

  Adhesive spells, adhesive spells... no, maybe a friction structure I

  can improvise off of? Hm." Helena trails off into muttering

  behind me.

  I straighten my legs and reach upward, fitting my hand into a new

  handhold. Once I've brought one foot up, I swing my body slightly to

  look back at Helena.

  She's messing with spells, apparently.

  "Helena." I say loudly, letting a slight growl amplify my

  voice. "Did you hear that?"

  Helena glances up at me, flicks her eyes across the wall, and nods.

  "Yes, I did. I'll be fine, I just need to put together a plan

  for my spell. It's half finished, it won't take too long."

  “Doesn’t answer the question, does it,” I mutter. Well, if

  she’s going to be distracted, I may as well be productive.

  The blocky houses start only a few marches up the road... cliff...

  cliffroad from us, and there don’t appear to be any vines peeking

  out of the windows. Given the disturbing lack of monsters anywhere, I

  really should check it out, so I start clambering up the cobbled

  cliffroad in a steady rhythm. One leg up, one hand up, push, use the

  other leg, repeat.

  Hopefully, I think absently, there are no sideways horses to sideways

  step on me. Cliff-horses? Maybe just goats? Monsters can be strange,

  after all, so it wouldn’t shock me too much.

  I snort, shaking my head free of my wandering thoughts. Focus, Ivy,

  we’ve got to poke around and see what pokes back. I pick out a

  small house not far from the base of the cliff, just about the size

  I’d expect a townhouse to be in Craumont.

  Pulling myself up over the side of the entryway with a grunt, I spare

  a moment to glance back down at Helena. She looks to be doing fine,

  sticking her hands to cobblestones and poking around at the cliffroad

  for footholds.

  I shrug, brushing myself off and rising to a hunch to peer through

  the open doorway. Houses in Delves don’t always have insides, so

  the fact that this place has them is kind of a surprise. Not ideal,

  since it means more places for monsters to hide, but it also means

  there’s places we can hole up in if it gets too dangerous.

  The inside all looks very house-y. Plaster-white walls, chairs on a

  nice rug, plants hanging from the ceiling, the works. Only, all of

  these things are made of white plaster. The inside of the

  house is entirely made up of house, just like the sand was all

  ‘sand’, with the only splash of color being from the plants

  hanging off the ceiling.

  Distantly, I hear the squawking of birds, just loud enough to cut

  through the dull roar of the ocean.

  “We, um, should prepare for those!” Helena shouts unhelpfully,

  and a moment later, she’s scrabbling her way up onto the entryway

  with me. A flick of her wrists dismisses a swirling greenish light

  around her hands, and she stops for a moment to catch her breath.

  There's a soft flush to her cheeks, but for a Mage who obviously

  doesn’t do much physical work, she's doing pretty well.

  “Anything can be a monster in a Delve, but I’ve read that things

  shaped like animals tend to be...” Helena trails off. “There’s

  some spells for small flying monsters that should do the trick.”

  My lips twitch, and I make a show of trailing my tail along the white

  plaster. “Shouldn’t I be the one handing out marching orders?”

  Helena’s blush reddens a bit more. “Sorry. I’ve been preparing

  for ages.”

  “Don’t worry,” I say, still smiling faintly. “You’ll have

  plenty of time to use... What're you staring at?"

  About halfway through my reply, Helena's gaze flickers to something

  behind me. Right after, she turns, leaning out of the entryway

  slightly to stare at the sky. I can see her squinting and shading her

  lips.

  "Birds?" She says hesitantly, chewing her lip. "I... I

  think those are birds."

  Coming up alongside her, I brace a hand against the entryway and lean

  out, peering up into the sky.

  I squint, too. I stick my tail out for extra balance, and lean

  further forward. Sure enough, there's birds. Gulls, from the shape—

  and a lot of them.

  "Huh," I say, grimacing. I check my surroundings again,

  review all the information I have available, and set about a vague

  plan. "Those'd be the monsters. Come on, let's get on the

  roof... wall... whatever. Stick to rooftops where we can, ease up on

  your spells if they ever start focusing on you. That'll give you time

  to cast, and space for us to dodge."

  Time to punch birds, I suppose.