A loud yawn echoes through the floor as the thing that beholds passes by. Curious, it stops to peek out of the tiny crack in the wall, focusing on the tired woman who is shuffling upwards, towards a higher point in the dungeon, as she makes her way back up from the library.

 

The fairy of the fountain stops again and stretches, as she lets out another long, loud yawn to signal her exhaustion, as she walks through the great, black forest. Her voice echoes upwards, passing through the spooky trees. The grave-keeper looks out of his window and waves to the fairy, who lazily waves back at him. His silhouette disappears a moment later, vanishing as he leaves the window, the warm yellow light inside of the cabin dies down a few seconds later.

 

She yawns a third time and keeps on walking, shuffling through the zombie forest on floor eighty-seven, on her way to wherever she is going. A large group of zombies sits leaned back against the trees on the edge of the forest. All of them stare up at the fake moon that is made up by the swirling dead-light. They all look particularly exhausted, even for zombies.

 

“Long day today, guys?” she asks, rubbing her eyes.

 

“Longest day of my life,” says a zombie with no jaw.

 

The one next to him laughs, nudging him in the side. “For a second there, I thought you were going to remarry!” laughs the rotting man.

 

“Shut up, Mii-,” he shakes his head. “- Dmitr.” snarls the jawless zombie.

 

“Ahhh!” the zombie who is nudging him, having caught his blunder, laughs and nudges harder with a growing, rotting smile and a knowing look. “It would have never worked, Piotr!” says Dmitr. “You were the bad guy today. The bad guy never wins down here.”

 

“I tried my best,” says a voice from the side. The fairy looks over to the woman sitting between the zombies, a normal human, if not a little flat looking. The paper witch from the moon shakes her head. “Sometimes it just doesn’t work out.”

 

Piotr sighs a long sigh. The fairy of the fountain looks at him. “Aww,” she says, biting her own sleeve to stop herself from yawning again. “Were you the metaphorical, corrupted father figure who was beyond redemption? That’s a good one.” She shakes her her and sighs. “I never get to play that one.”

 

“You don’t have the looks for it!” laughs Dmitr and the other zombies next to him start laughing too. The fairy woman shrugs indifferently.

 

Piotr nods. “The dungeon-master extended my plot-line and made us play the king with no name, this time.” He shakes his head. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to walk like that for longer than five minutes.”

 

“Huh…” says the fairy of the fountain, rubbing the back of her head. “Well, you did a good job. They got out without even really dying during the boss-fight.”

 

“Yeah,” says Piotr, somewhat listlessly.

 

The paper witch pats him on his back. “I thought you looked cool.”

 

“Yeah,” sighs Piotr, his jaw-less face staring up at the dead-light moon that slowly starts to wind itself down, the light vanishing as if a machine were being powered off.

 

“Anyways,” says the fairy of the fountain. “I gotta go.” She waves to the zombies who all wave back to her as she leaves. A pair of footsteps run after her.

 

“Wait up!” calls the paper witch from the moon, catching up. “Our floors are next to each other, so I’ll walk back with you, okay?”

 

“Mm,” nods the fairy of the fountain, starting to yawn again. “Why were you down here anyways?”

 

The paper witch laughs, waving a floppy hand. “You know me, I can’t stay out of a good romance sub-plot.” A shower of moondust sparkles fly from her finger-tips, glistening in the dewy, forest-tinged moonlight. “Even an unofficial one.”

 

“I don’t know how you have the energy for it,” says the fairy of the fountain. The two of them walk together, heading up several floors, making idle small-talk on the way.

 

“Did your plot-line ever get used?” asks the fairy of the fountain. The paper witch shakes her head.

 

“No, I mean… they ran into me once, but honestly they were kind of rude, so I didn’t bother.” They shrug. “At least until I tried to help Piotr out.”

 

“Huh…”

 

“Yours?”

 

The fairy of the fountain rubs the back of her head, running her fingers through her hair as she thinks. “Uh… maybe? A little? But not really. The black-water didn’t really get it’s chance to shine,” she sighs. “And after all of the work I put into it.”

 

“It was really cute though,” laughs the paper-witch. “How they tried to bunker a few of you down. That was a close call, I thought the jig was up for a minute there, honestly.”

 

“Yeah,” sighs the fairy of the fountain, staring around at the desert that they’re walking through. “They found out that some of us respawn, but uh… I guess that was my fault.” She thinks for a moment, staring. “I didn’t think they’d make such a big deal out of finding out that I recognized them in a new body.”

 

The paper witch laughs. “I really thought the whole game was over when that happened. But apparently they never realized that it was more than just you guys. Imagine if they found out that ALL of us respawn.”

 

“It would have been a long day,” says the fairy of the fountain. “A longer day,” she corrects herself.

 

The paper witch sighs. “I wish someone would carry me off to a library. A real hero in shining armor,” they say, half-sarcastically holding their cheeks. “So who were they anyway?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“They. Who were they? If they weren’t the lance-hero?” asks the paper-witch, curiously.

 

“Hmm…” says the fairy of the fountain, staring off into the distance as the two of them walk next to each other through the desert. A harpy screeches loudly, flying overhead, but not stopping to bother either of them as it flies off the other way. “Does it matter?” asks the fairy woman, shrugging.

 

The thing that beholds, having seen enough, slips back into the darkness to leave. But also because the desert heat is starting to dry out its eye. Blinking a few times to remoisturize and to get the crumbs of sand out, it vanishes into the darkness, eager to see what it can find next.

 

 

---