Pope Pug
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Chapter 42.
🕑 Added 2025-07-23 16:38:42 +0000 UTC“This is the Tidemother’s Embrace,” King Ormund said as he lifted the necklace from its case. He stepped down from the dais until he stood directly before me. Slowly, he presented it to me.
He held the necklace out in both hands. “An artifact found in one of our dungeons. It allows the wearer to breathe underwater and withstand pressure at depth. We offer it as an apology. May it serve you in what lies ahead.”
I inclined my head and allowed him to place the chain around my neck. The pendant rested against my chest. At once, a coolness spread through my lungs, feeling quite sharp and clean.
It was a fair offering. Very practical for a nation built around the sea.
“You have my thanks,” I said. The words were flat, formal, but enough to ease some of the stiffness from Ormund’s shoulders.
“We regret the disrespect you’ve faced,” the king replied. “Kethra will ensure it doesn’t happen again.” He looked to his court. They murmured soft words of agreement, a few bowing their heads.
I let my gaze pass over them one last time.
I could see fear and relief.
Plus a hint of resentment in a few faces.
But I want them to hold onto that. To let them remember the line I had drawn.
“I’ll retire to my quarters,” I said. The pendant shifted slightly as I turned. “Once I am more prepared, I will enter the dungeon. I hope that it is less troublesome than your son.”
The court fell silent. No one spoke. And Ormund gave a brief nod.
I left the hall without waiting for permission.
Outside, my attendants waited, stiff and pale.
“Your Reverence, are you harmed?” One of my attendants asked, voice tight.
“I’m fine.” I didn’t slow my pace. “I don’t want anymore disturbances tonight.”
They fell in step behind me as I returned to my quarters. The room had been cleaned. The broken vase was gone, the cracked tile replaced.
I lay down on the cushions, feeling the Tidemother’s Embrace cold against my fur.
Alone, I let my eyes close. The tension hadn’t fully left my body. Every step in Kethra so far had been a test. They wanted to see if I would falter, if I would prove their fears about me correct.
Even my so-called attendants are probably sending a letter or calling back to Sunmire, giving information about me.
*****
Dawn came and I was already awake. I sat by the garden pond, the world was very still and quiet. It felt pleasant.
Though, faint sounds of the city drifted in—carts rattling over stone, fishermen calling at the docks, the clink of tools in distant workshops.
One of the attendants knocked at my door before entering, approaching. “Your Reverence, the King’s men ask if you intend to enter the dungeon today.”
“No,” I said. “Not yet.” My voice stayed even. “Bring me any records on Kethra’s history. Maps, expedition reports, and any local myths tied to the area.”
The attendant bowed and left at once.
The second remained. “Your Reverence, how may I assist?”
“Review our provisions. I want recommendations from Kethran adventurers, especially those who regularly enter other dungeons here. Get potions, tools, and anything their alchemists suggest for survival.”
“Yes, my lord.” The attendant hesitated. “Would you allow one of us to accompany you below? To carry supplies?”
“No,” I said. “I enter alone.”
The attendant lowered her gaze. “Understood.”
“Have everything prepared in three days,” I added.
“It will be done.”
Later that morning, the first attendant returned with scrolls and heavy books. He spread them neatly across the table. “The palace archivists were instructed to grant full access.”
“Show me.”
He unrolled a map of Kethra’s coast. A red mark circled a beach near the capital.
“This is Pelagia’s Breath. The dungeon entrance is here, where you visited yesterday; a hole in the beach about four meters across. The tide fills it at certain hours. Guards were posted after the last few expedition failed.”
I traced the marked spot with a claw. Dungeons could be left alone, but there have been records of dungeon overflows on those that distinctly had demonic beasts in them. This meant that unless a proper investigation was done, it was close enough to threaten the city if the dungeon was that type.
The attendant flipped open one of the books. “In this one, there are old tales of a sea goddess who flooded the cave in rage after a mortal betrayed her.”
“Go on.”
He opened another small book. “It says in this one that a total of 23 Kethran dungeon parties have entered in the past month. None returned.”
I listened silently. Details mattered.
Over the next two days, I read every record and book brought to me. Reports of what the parties brought with them, what their capabilities were, what creatures were common in Kethran waters.
Supplies were checked and rechecked.
When I wasn’t reading, I meditated to strengthen my Qi. At times, I retreated to the villa’s pond and submerged myself fully, testing the Tidemother’s Embrace. The necklace functioned as promised.
It felt like I could remain underwater indefinitely. A thin bubble of air formed around my snout. But sight was still a different thing entirely; even though my senses were better now, it was still a bit blurry underwater.
I swam slow laps in my full size, my bulk cutting through the water without effort. Then I shifted down to my smaller pug form, testing whether the artifact adapted with me.
It did.
The chain resized smoothly, adjusting as if it had been forged for a shapeshifter.
On the second night, when the villa was quiet, I went out and padded to the beach.
Pelagia’s Breath lay ahead, the hole in the sand surrounded by wooden scaffolding and rope barriers. Guards stood at a distance, their torches casting small pools of light against the waves.
I watched the tide crawl in and out from afar. The dungeon’s entrance swallowed seawater as the tide came in.
I stayed there for a long time, watching. Sunmire Council’s voices echoed faintly in memory as they delivered judgement, sending me to that prison. Now, they expect me to disappear in there.
To die quietly so no one will have to speak my name again.
I bared my fangs, just enough for them catch the moonlight. Frustration welled up in me again.
‘If they think I’ll oblige them, they’re mistaken.’
As a gust of wind ruffled my fur, I turned and padded back toward the villa. By the time dawn came, the waves had erased my pawprints from the sand.
The fourth morning, my preparations were complete.
The two attendants waited in the courtyard with a waterproofed satchel. It was packed carefully, the weight balanced to sit on my ribs.
One stepped forward and opened the pack for inspection. “There’s enough rations for ten days, water for five, basic medical supplies, and two vitality potions provided by the palace alchemists.” He glanced at the others before adding, “There is also a pack of roasted hazelnuts and honey-dried meat. ”
They helped secure the straps snugly around my shoulders and midsection.
When the final knot was tied, the male attendant stepped back and placed his open palm to his chest.
Sunmire’s salute.
I gave a single nod. “Your service honors Sunmire. Continue to honor it by living. I intend to return.”
No more words were exchanged.
The streets were quiet. Fewer onlookers than the day I arrived, though I caught glimpses of faces peering from balconies and alley shadows. News of what happened to the prince must have spread.
Fear held most at a distance, but curiosity kept some rooted in place.
At the beach, the three Kethran guards stood to attention as soon as I appeared. The change in their posture from wary to deferential was immediate.
“Lord Pophet,” their captain said, saluting. “The entrance is secured. There have been no disturbances since the last attempt.”
I gave a brief nod and approached the the dungeon’s entrancec.
A guard offered me a rope tied to a post. “We can lower you—”
“No,” I interrupted him.
I stepped forward to the edge. The air drifting up from the hole was damp and stale. My claws tightened briefly. Behind me, the guards exchanged quiet glances.
“We will pray for you, honored one,” one murmured.
I didn’t respond. Prayers weren’t for me.
With one motion, I leapt.
The world narrowed into cold air and darkness. For a brief moment, I felt weightless, light shrinking above me as I dropped.
The fall was brief and disorienting. Gravity shifted, and my stomach lurched as up and down lost meaning.
A breath later, heat hit me full force.
I landed hard in sand, rolling once to break the impact.
When I stood, the air was dry. Hot.
The sky above was pale yellow. Endless dunes stretched in every direction.
Behind me stood a single arch of stone, half-buried in sand.
So. This was the dungeon’s domain.
I adjusted my weight, claws flexing in the powdery ground.
The heat hit harder than expected.
Even with the Tidemother’s Embrace resting cool against my chest, the dry air pressed against my lungs. The yellow sky offered no reprieve.
Each of my breath felt heavier than the last.
This was the worst environment for me. My breed—pugs—had always been poor in heat. Even as a Godbeast, the flaw lingered in my blood, which was why I liked to take naps in the shade.
I could endure it for now, but already, my body warned me to conserve energy.
Additionally, my weight worked against me here. The sand gave way under each step, sucking my paws into the ground. At ten feet tall, every movement cost more than I wanted to admit.
I turned back once, looking toward the arch of stone where I had entered.
I padded toward it, hoping it would lead me somewhere. But when I went through, nothing happened.
Of course. If leaving were that simple, there would have been survivors.
I turned again and looked at the endless dunes ahead. There was no choice but to keep moving.
Each step continued to sink into sand. My shoulders and hind legs rolled with the effort of pulling my weight free again and again. I walked with no landmarks, no markers. The desert stretched in all directions, featureless except for the occasional ripple of heat distorting the horizon.
The Tidemother’s Embrace was no use here. I had prepared for water, for caves. Not this.
I trudged forward until my tongue felt dry, my throat catching with each breath. Finally, I stopped and lowered onto my haunches.
The attendants had packed well. I pulled a water container from my satchel with my teeth, biting down on the waxed pouch until it tore. Cool liquid filled my mouth, and I drank the entire thing in one motion. The container dropped to the sand, empty.
I rose again and kept moving.
Time blurred in the heat. The sun above didn’t seem to move. Sweat dampened on my paw pads and my nose.
At last, something broke the monotony. I saw a shape in the distance.
I narrowed my eyes and I saw stone.
Qi surged through my legs as I pushed forward. Each leap carried me across the dunes faster, sand spraying behind. The shape grew clearer. An arch of stone.
I slowed.
The arch was the same one I had left behind.
I circled it once. The angle of the dunes was identical. Even the pawprints I had left earlier remained, half-filled by drifting sand.
I either screwed up my direction as I walked and circled back here, or…
The desert had looped on itself.
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Pope Pug
Sorry! A few things happened and I couldn't do the promised two chapters today. I'll try tomorrow.
