Chapter Text
The sound of cracking echoed within the halls of stone brick, and not a single noise more.
Leather boots hit brick ground as a single skeleton warrior made their way through room after room. The scent of blood was nearby, and every sense in the monster’s body aimed to find its source. As the smell of iron became stronger, so did the skeleton’s determination, and bloodlust. Its bony hand raised a sword into the air, already prepared to slaughter anything in its path as it pushed open a door leading into a large library.
However, as it passed a series of bookshelves, a single gunshot echoed through the room, and the skeletal warrior fell to the ground with a thud. The creature was once again dead, and the smoke of a bullet seeped from its skull. A figure approached the carcass, before boots slammed through the old bone, causing it to shatter. Gloved hands sifted through the broken cranium, before picking up a silver musket ball. Looking at the location he hid behind, Darryl sighed.
“f*ck.” Darryl swore under his breath as he felt his arm burn in agony once again. When he first descended into the dungeon, a large patch of his arm had been the prey of a dungeon slime; the freshly exposed muscle underneath poured blood. Darryl was lucky enough to find bandages hours ago, and the fabric around his arm was soaked in crimson- yet it kept him from bleeding out. Darryl kicked the body of the skeleton, checking to make sure it was truly dead, before he felt sweat drip from his face.
His mind recollected scenes of a small cottage- acting as a desperate attempt to keep the dealer inside the underground structure- and the grave in front of that home. The memory of placing the tombstone reminded the arms dealer of the man taken not just from Terraria too early, but from him. Bittersweet memories made the golden ring on Darryl’s ring finger feel heavy- acting as a constant reminder about his grief, his reality, and the truth. He was gone, the hero was gone, and Acorn Acres is gone.
Yet, there was a small glimpse of hope, at least in Darryl’s mind.
After surviving on his own for god knows how long, he discovered something interesting. For his entire life, until the disappearance of the guide and hero, he had been living in a purified Terraria. Sure, it was still dangerous as hell- but it wasn’t because of the new light and dark, it was because of the light and dark that came back. If it existed previously, surely there were old relics or books in the ancient dungeon that held useful information. The creatures that had torn his town apart, which had previously been seen as unkillable, could possibly be defeated by knowledge alone.
There was hope, if the dealer could find something.
Turning his attention back to the shelves, Darryl began to look through the books once more. It had already been around three hours or so, the dealer wasn’t even halfway through the library, and he had not a single useful book to take back. The ancient books were either not what he was looking for or lacked the type of information he needed.
Tough leather from the cover of a large book caught Darryl’s attention. When the book was picked up and opened, the pages were slightly tanned. It lacked a title, a name of a possible author, and the sketches inside seemed to indicate it was a history book, as it contained familiar imagery of Terraria.
Sitting down at the chair of a nearby table, Darryl began to finally flip through and properly read the pages inside. After only a minute of skimming through sketches in the first section (which was separated from other sections by thin, green fabric), Darryl noticed how detailed every page was.
The defeat of both the Eye and Brain of Cthulhu were significant events- but the mystery author seemed to know how it happened too, even down to the weapon and items that were used. Not even the dealer, who saw it himself, knew such small details. Considering how old the book likely was, having an event only around a decade or so ago felt too recent for a book this old.
Darryl continued to flip through the pages. He skipped through anything he didn’t see as necessary, or entertaining, until his hand stopped at the fourth section of the book- halfway through its entirety. Jackpot.
Within the section and beyond, a heap of bizarre information was described in perfect detail. Darryl only knew a fair few of the events he saw, which were likely told to him by relatives in his youth. The section included The Light and Dark war, The Empress Of The Hallows, and other smaller fragments of history- like the distant memory of Lepus, an old folktale that was popular in Darryl’s hometown before he left for Acorn Acres.
But beyond the familiarity came abnormality, and Darryl held a single page between his fingers. On the page was a sketch of a young looking, long-haired woman. She looked relatively normal, if not pretty in the arm dealer’s eyes, until he looked closer. On the illustration of the woman, there was an opening to her throat that stretched down to her upper chest. Teeth lined the edges of the fleshy gap, in what looked and likely functioned as another mouth.
Despite her strange mutations, a completely different element caught Darryl’s eye. Her hair’s shade of ginger was slightly pale, as the pages of the book were aged. However, it still reminded the arms dealer of him, and he felt a slight sting in his heart as past memories slowly returned to him.
Darryl quickly flipped past the page of the woman, ignoring the fact her page lacked any writing unlike the other- before a recognizable being stole his attention: The Slime King.
However, the details that went with the human and slime ‘duo’s portrait shocked the dealer. According to the writing, he was the son of a god, and a demigod himself. “Couldn’t tell he was ‘all powerful’ when I saw him get f*cked up by a gold broadsword.” Darryl mocked, before flipping to the next page, losing interest.
Darryl’s smirk was quickly wiped off his face as shiver ran down his spine. The dealer glared at a illustration of what seemed to be a large, squid-like monster, shrouded by darkness. He wasn’t stupid, everybody knew who that thing was.
Don’t people who look at Cthulhu go crazy?
Darryl pondered for a moment, before he shrugged. “Probably already am, considering I’m down here,”
Closing the book, Darryl stood up and began to make his way back to the library’s door.
Suddenly, as he turned- a sharp pain spread throughout his injured arm. He wretched, causing both his weapon and the book to fall on the ground. Stuck in his arm was an arrow, thin and made of wood. Lucky for him, it only hit the meat of his body, leaving his bone intact. Yet, the dealer had no time to acknowledge his fortune as his body felt physical anguish.
Tracking the location of his attacker, Darryl saw another skeleton. The monster was dressed in a green robe, and another arrow flew by the arms dealer’s head as its bony hands let go of the string of their bow. In a panic, Darryl grabbed a thick, large book from the shelf he stood beside. Using his good arm, and the fact the skeleton was somewhat close to him, he threw the object at the undead as hard as he could.
The book smacked the archer in the shoulder, temporally dislocating his frail, bony arm. Using the distraction, Darryl quickly picked up his gun from the grimy, brick floor before making a sprint for the door. In seconds, another arrow flew past the dealer, tearing a hole into his green jacket.
Slamming the door shut as he ran through it, Darryl pressed his flintlock pistol against the old wood. When the man heard (what he assumed to be) claws scratching against the oak, he fired. Every second the noise continued, he fired again, and again, and again.
By the time there was silence, Darryl had used four of his bullets. The dealer had plenty of musket balls, but he couldn’t reload his firearm with his arm’s condition. If he had to guess, after the encounter with the dungeon slime, he only had around six shots left.
Darryl took a second to lean against the damaged, oak door. While his pain had numbed at this point, he still felt nauseated from the blood loss. The arrow in his arm hurt like hell, but the dealer knew taking it out only meant a certain death, since he would surely bleed out with an open wound. The air around Darryl felt heavy as his vision became less focused, and his eyelids struggled to remain open. Even his body felt wrong, feeling cold and stiff.
When Darryl pushed open the door, moving the undead corpse along with it, he nearly fell over. The sound of bone scratching against brick would’ve made him flinch, but his ears were too fuzzy to process it.
Grabbing the book he dropped from the ground, a drop of blood fell onto the leather cover. Darryl wiped his hand across his nose, confirming it was the source of the blood. Considering his head remained mostly uninjured, the dealer only felt confused by his sudden nosebleed, rather than concerned.
Darryl walked out of the library once more, finally ready to go back to the surface. However, his vision was too blurry to make out anything in his surroundings, now that he was in pure darkness. Placing his hand against the wall, he used the brick surface to guide himself through the halls of the dungeon.
The blue light of water candles, which were scattered across the dungeon, were merely blue smears to Darryl, but they functioned as a perfect guide out. Dragging his hand across the wall, the arms dealer made his way towards a set of stairs. The dealer had used a different staircase to descend into the structure, but it would take too much time to wade through the darkness to reach it- and time mattered when monsters could ambush you.
Reaching the steps, Darryl carefully made his way up. Static filled his mind as he felt a cold breeze hit his chest.
Suddenly, when his feet hit a proper floor, a deafening crack echoed throughout the dungeon. Darryl only had mere seconds to react before he realized he was falling.
The ground beneath him had given way, and in seconds, Darryl was surrounded by water. Fortunately, the dealer was able to position himself to simply float on the surface. However, the cold water lapping against him felt brutal against his skin.
Staring at the darkness above him, the dealer could only hear his shallow breaths. He didn’t try to maneuver through the water, as he wanted to save his strength for as long as he could.
Minutes felt like hours as his body became used to the cold, and Darryl was almost prepared to let the grim reality of his situation settle in, until he heard a quiet splash.
Out of curiosity, Darryl reached his hand towards the noise. It was too dark to make out what fell, but judging by the sound it created- whatever it was landed just in front of him. Tough fiber rubbed against his skin as he was able to grab the mysterious object, and the dealer realized that it was a rope in front of him. He tugged the rope, making sure it wasn’t going to give way if he attempted to climb it. It didn’t even move as he did, and Darryl let out a sigh of relief.
Tying the rope around his tactical belt- all while struggling not to drown himself in the deep, murky water- Darryl was ready to try to climb.
However, before Darryl could even move, the rope began to pull him upwards.
As Darryl felt the ground, and one that wouldn’t drop him into a pit of certain death again, he looked up to see a shadowed figure.
“Holy sh*t… Thank you, man. I thought I was,” Darryl saw the light of a torch as his eyes wandered upwards, and he finally stopped when a pair of green eyes stared into his, “Dead…”
Darryl carefully stood up. Right in front of him, a man with ginger hair, a green shirt, and tan skin looked at the arms dealer. Using his uninjured hand, Darryl placed it on the guide’s shoulder, making sure he was truly real- and right in front of him. “Harley?” Darryl spoke, his voice cracking slightly as his hand trembled. Harley gently placed his hand against the dealer’s cheek, wiping the blood from his face.
“Are you okay?” Harley spoke, both relieved and concerned for the man in front of him. Darryl blinked, and little by little, he felt his aliments slowly disappear. His mind felt clear, his arm stopped hurting, and even his body felt warmth return to it.
“How the hell are you here? Am I dead…?” Darryl asked, before the guide took hold of the arrow in the dealer’s arm. With a quick tug, the bolt was torn from Darryl’s flesh. The dealer flinched, but there was no pain.
“Are you feeling any better?” Harley asked the arms dealer, ignoring his question, and Darryl nodded.
“Sort of.” Darryl looked at his arm, and for a moment. he thought he looked at the looked at the wrong arm, before confirming what he saw. It looked completely fine, as if all the physical trauma it faced never happened.
Harley smiled, before suddenly drawing his own wooden bow. An arrow flew past Darryl’s head as the guide shot directly behind him. The arms dealer heard a familiar cracking noise, and as expected- he saw a skeleton right behind him. “Come on, we need to go!” Harley yelled, before taking Darryl by the hand.
With his arm’s recovery, he was able to properly aim his weapon. Using a single bullet, he finished off the creature- right as more skeletons spotted and advanced toward them.
Harley began to run with Darryl right behind him. Taking the opportunity to sift through his pockets for a box of musket balls, the dealer groaned as he was only met with a decently size hole in his jacket. “I only got five bullets left!” Darryl exclaimed to the guide in front of him.
“You won’t have time to shoot anyways! Just focus on not falling!” Harley responded as they reached another staircase, only lit by the flames of a water candle. Darryl nodded as he turned his attention back to what was ahead of him.
However, what greeted him was blue flame that he was lucky enough to dodge. “sh*t! Dark Casters!” The guide paused for only a moment, aiming his bow once more and firing towards a figure in blue robes. The arrow pinned the caster’s sleeve to the wall, preventing them from casting another fireball- at least before the skeleton vanished.
“I though you said we didn’t have time to shoot things!” Darryl exclaimed, before the guide continued to run.
“I know, I know! But would you rather stop for a second or two or deal with getting shot at yourself!?” Harley replied, flashing Darryl a co*cky- and nostalgic- grin.
“Fair.” Darryl replied, and he could see the light of the surface. “There!”
In seconds, light blinded the two as they were finally met with the soft winds of the outdoors. A pallet of a green landscape surrounded the dungeon, and Harley was the first to sigh. “Man, never thought I’d ever come back here…” The guide joked, but Darryl didn’t make a single sound.
“Harley. I thought you were dead for ten f*cking years! What the hell, man!?” Darryl spoke, feeling both confused and angry. “Did you fake your death, you were revived, are you the real Harley!?” The dealer tried to rationalize the situation he was in, and a tan hand cupped his cheek.
Despite his frustrations, Darryl let his eyes close. Years ago, he said he’d do anything to have Harley with him- to see him, to feel him, and to just be with him one more time. So why does this feel so bad?
“I can understand if you don’t want to hear it, but I can explain. Not just why I’m here, but everything.” Harley offered, before being engulfed by a tight hug.
“You better, buddy.” Darryl spoke, quietly laughing under his breath. Harley wrapped his arms around the dealer as well, laughing along with him.
