“As in a place where prisoners are kept?” The goblin was confused and a little worried. While this place was nice if it was meant to entrap them then that would be not a good outcome for either of them,

  “No, no, no…” The girl thought for a moment and began to explain, “Dungeons are pocket dimensions formed in the world, supposedly they are remnants from the creation of our world.” The goblin was going a bit cross-eyed he didn’t really have an understanding of these concepts. “Think of it as a special place with its own rules.”

  “I’ll try…” Said the goblin, still not entirely understanding it all.

  “In these dungeons there is a core, think of it as the heart of the dungeon. It is both the source of its power and greatest weakness. Adventurers brave dungeons ultimately to shatter its core.”

  “Why would someone do that?” The goblin looked horrified at the idea of someone destroying this place, his home.

  “Well the destroyer of the core gains a portion of the dungeon's power to himself, gaining what is called a divine ability. My father destroyed a core once and gained the power to turn anything he touched into a blade at will. Each dungeon provides a unique power based on its attributes.” She looked to the purple hearth, “your dungeon is probably of the creation category.”

  “My dungeon?” The goblin asked at the specific phrasing used.

  “Yes, your dungeon.” She resolutely replied, “Dungeons cannot go undefended so they often find a creature to fulfill that role.” She pointed at him, “you are that defender.”

  “So, I own the dungeon?”

  “Yes, the people who can claim control of a dungeon are called dungeon masters. They have a ridiculous amount of control over the space and it takes on characteristics of the owner.” She gestured to the stone structure around them, “Is this your ideal home?”

  “Not really, I just wanted somewhere safe.” He replied.

  “Whatever the case, I wanted to ask you how are you feeling?”

  “Achy and empty, like something is missing from me.” The goblin replied instantly.

  “If I had to guess then you have used up your mana reserves when you healed me, how did you do that by the way?” She asked dying to know how she was spared from death.

  “I remembered the medicines used by the goblin shamans when I grew up. I pictured them in my head and willed them into existence.” explained Amand.

  “Okay so that supports my earlier thought, dungeon masters can usually use their mana to influence a dungeon changing its shape and creating things out of thin air!” She waved exaggeratedly in excitement, “most dungeons can let you make anything mundane…”

  “Mundane?” The goblin interrupted.

  “Not Magical, you know like dirt, stone, and what not. But creation type dungeons can conjure magical materials that are the same in strength to those in the normal world but in exchange it costs immense amounts of magic.” She pointed at him once again, “That is why you feel terrible, you used all your mana and probably then some to create those medicines.”

  “Okay so what exactly can I do?” Amand asked, “After all we can’t have more people here trying to destroy this place.”

  “You need to change this place to make it harder for people to get to this room!” She responded.

  “How?”

  “That I am not sure, but this place seems to follow what you imagine, could you try making the corridor longer?” She suggested, he shrugged and closed his eyes. He pictured that hallway growing longer and longer, but the further he pushed the more that hollow feeling enhanced. Eventually he had to stop because it felt like he was going to throw up.

  “I think I did it…” He said with uncertainty. The duo got up and approached the doorway when opened, the corridor had grown significantly, the door in and out was but a pin prick in the distance.

  “Now we should get way more warning or at least delay the intruder for a while.” She said satisfied, the goblin was leaning against the wall, clearly that world bending took a toll on him. “I want to see something else, let’s go check the library!” She grabbed him by the arm and practically dragged him into the adjoining room.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The room had expanded and there were several more shelves containing different books, despite his exhaustion the excitement of more library additions was enough to invigorate him. He reached to the new shelf and pulled off a book and flipped through it, a frown graced his face. The goblin put the book back and picked another one, unfortunately the story was the same as the first.

  “Did the intruder have a good taste in reading?” Isolde asked. The goblin shook his head in disappointment, nothing here but some very disgraceful yet suggestive materials. “Well despite that at least we know that anyone who has seen, or read a certain book, that it will appear here and is not between just you and me.” She tried to cheer him up. He closed his eyes and a pair of doors sprouted on the shelf and swung shut.

  “Better to keep that locked up.” He resolutely said, trying to shake away any thoughts on what he just flipped through. Isolde was worried about what would cause the goblin to react in such a way but was excited to see him using his magic, the happiness was short cut as the goblin passed out a few seconds afterwards. He had used a lot of mana and this little magic exploration session probably didn’t help. While she was better she very well knew that she would be unable to carry him to this bed.

  She went into the center room and grabbed the goblins blanket, coming back she laid it upon the ground and rolled Amand onto it. She and her mother had to haul her father on many a night when he went drinking with his old adventuring buddies. As she began to drag her friend to his room, something caught her eye. Near the sealed shelf was another shelf but there was a scroll upon it with a familiar symbol.

  The symbol was sealed with a fist impressed upon wax, it was her mother and father's old adventuring company's banner. She broke the seal, her face went from one of innocent curiosity to one deeply troubled, finally landing on a malevolently determined one. She pulled herself away from the scroll and looked back to her sleeping friend, before anything this one needed to be returned to bed.

  So began the dragging, while alone it was significantly easier than dragging her father's massive frame and before long the goblin was back before the purple hearth. She couldn’t lift him into bed but could leave him wrapped up by the fire. She could swear that she heard the crackling sigh a hiss of relief as the goblin cozied up in his blanket.

  A weak smile graced her lips before regaining a stoic expression, she left the room and grabbed her practice rod before heading out into the caverns. Each swing contained much vigor, purpose, and bloodlust than before. She had found a target and every swing embodied her intentions. Thus the days unfolded, Isolde would practice her father’s sword techniques and work on her Ice magic. The goblin continued to fastidiously clean the dungeon and expand it into a winding maze.

  No one visited during this period and the only thing that changed was Isolde. Everyday she grew a bit taller, more lithe, and sharper. You could practically feel the cold radiating from her as she stepped back into the home.

  The goblin had decided that going to the library was too far to draw upon his books so the main room had become lined with shelves. Old habits died hard and most of the books in the main room were those of inconsequential forlorn love in nature.

  But he had indulged in some of the books of the church, while written in celestial there were a handful of church construction books, no doubt for building worship sites to the divines but functioned as a crash course into architecture. Unknowingly the originally flat ceilings had become vaulted and much more airy.

  Isolde set aside her training rod and joined Amand in the main room. She sat down in a large arm chair, the goblin had been kind enough to supply her one after learning of his control over the dungeon. “You have grown.” The goblin said out of the blue, he rarely pulled his nose out of his books but the gradual change of her frame had finally set in where he couldn’t ignore it.

  “If I had to guess I’m probably in my late teens…” She had a bit of a sad look in her eyes.

  “What is bothering you?” Said Amand, feeling the vibes coming off his companion.

  “I probably had a couple of birthdays by now and I haven’t even thought of it…” She said,

  “Birthday?” The goblin asked.

  “It is a special day, every year when a human grows a little older we celebrate the day we were born. Not many children make it to my age.” She said with a little bit of retrospection.

  “How are birthdays celebrated?” Asked the goblin, something already being crafted in his mind.

  “Generally we have a feast of sorts and then we would receive gifts.” The girl explained.

  “So something like this,” He snapped his fingers as they moved around the room. The armchairs scooted towards the table as the table became populated with soups, skewers of meat and vegetables, and loaves of bread. Her eyes were wide in shock, “Dig in!” He announced. She took a bite of the bread, and it tasted like normal.

  “You can make food now?” She said in excitement.

  “Only food that I have eaten before… I tried making a pie from one of the books I read and it had no taste so I assume I must sample something to create it.” The goblin articulated his discovery, she didn’t waste any time digging in. She savored every bite.

  “You didn't have to do all this...” She was genuinely appreciative of it all.

  “Well, I’m not quite done…” He said as he pulled a box from under the table. “I’ve been meaning to give you something but this seemed like a good time to do so.” She took hold of the box, opening it. Within it was a gleaming sword, one that upon the site caused tears to manifest in the corners of her eyes. “I had been going through the library when I stumbled upon a book of sword designs by a certain Douglas." Of course she recognized her father's handiwork. The blade was thin, more of cutlass in shape, the metal sheen with blue hue. “Apparently he made a blade for you and hid it in the tavern but I thought I could give you this facsimile till you can get the real one.” The goblin said with a smile.

  “Thank you.” She said, already adding a stop to her impending trip, speaking of which it was probably time to tell him. “I didn’t want to ruin the moment but I have something to tell you.” The goblin cocked his head indicating that he was listening. After a heavy sigh she finally spoke of what she had been planning, “I’m leaving.”