A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

"Whoa, whoa, chill there, Chief," I said, holding up my hands as if that would somehow stop the escalating tension in the room.

My gaze darted back to Agnos, who was still lounging with an air of supreme disinterest, sipping his piña colada like this was a day at the beach.

"What's a Forbidden Dungeon?" I asked, more to fill the awkward silence than out of genuine curiosity. But hey, maybe knowing what we were getting into might save my hide for once.

Agnos lazily flicked his golden eyes my way. "The Forbidden Dungeon is actually the ancestral burial cave of the trolls," he said, his tone as nonchalant as if he were describing the weather. "It's sacred. No outsiders allowed."

I furrowed my brow. "Then why call it a dungeon? Why not 'ancestral burial grounds' or something equally reverent?"

"Because," Agnos replied with a wry smirk, "that's the place dungeon raiders love to raid. They loot treasures from the trolls' remains. Over time, it became infamous and got rebranded as the Forbidden Dungeon. Now it's crawling with troll warriors, all stationed there to protect it from intruders."

"Dungeon raiders?" I echoed. "That's...dark."

"Well, you did sign up for Mythica's wildlife conservation gig. You're lucky if things are just dark," Agnos quipped.

Ignoring his sarcasm, I pressed on. "Why is the last fragment there? Could this be some sort of mistake? Or—" I paused, narrowing my eyes at him. "Are you telling me the trolls are the guardians of this thing? Because you said before they weren't qualified for the role."

Agnos's smirk deepened, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes. "Oh, there's a guardian all right," he said, drawing out the words for maximum effect. "But it's not the trolls."

I didn't like the sound of that. "Then who—or what—is the guardian?"

"Oh, Carl," Agnos purred, leaning back with a maddening air of amusement. "Where's the fun in me telling you that? Surprises are life's little spices."

Before I could retort, the Troll Chief suddenly slammed his massive fist on the table, rattling every dish, mug, and piña colada in sight. His booming voice erupted in trollish, a guttural language that sounded like two boulders grinding together.

I blinked at the trembling troll translator sitting nearby. "Uh, care to fill me in?" I gestured at the Chief.

The translator stammered, "The Troll Chief...he's challenging you to a duel. To the death."

I blanched. "To the what now?"

The translator gulped, avoiding my eyes. "He said, if you kill him, you can enter the Forbidden Dungeon. Otherwise—"

"Otherwise what?" I demanded.

"I...didn't catch the rest. I was too scared," the translator admitted, looking like he wanted to crawl under the table.

Fantastic. Things had officially gone from bad to critical. Then it hit me—I was a certified Conflict Mediator now. I even had the badge and certificate to prove it. Surely, I could use that to avoid this mess.

"H-hold on!" I said, scrambling to pull the shiny badge from my pocket. "I'm an official Conflict Mediator. I request a peaceful negotiation!"

The Troll Chief froze mid-battle stance, his eyes narrowing as they locked on the badge. Apparently, it was imbued with godly power or something, because it actually made him hesitate.

"Wow," I muttered, marveling at the badge. "This thing's fire!"

Agnos rolled his eyes. "We're not bartering for souvenirs, Carl."

"Shut up," I shot back. "I'm trying to stop a massacre here."

"You know I won't die, right?" Agnos replied sarcastically, motioning to himself with that tiny purple furred paw of his. "A god." His tone dripped with mock grandeur, and I couldn't help but hate him just a little for belittling me—again.

"I'm not worried about you dying," I shot back. "I'm worried about myself… and the troll chief, of course."

Agnos smirked, clearly amused by my growing frustration.

The Troll Chief grunted, finally lowering his weapon. "What do you propose, Mediator?" he asked, his tone still carrying a hint of skepticism.

"Well, Chief, there is a plausible reason why Agnos here might need to enter the Forbidden Dungeon. And I'm positive he means no disrespect to the burial grounds. It's just that there's an item he needs to retrieve from there."

The troll chief narrowed his eyes, the flicker of distrust unmistakable. "No. Everyone says the same thing. In the end, our ancestors' burial remains are thrashed. Treasures looted."

I raised my hands in a gesture of reassurance. "We promise no treasures will be looted, and no burial grounds will be thrashed. The only exception is the item that belongs to Agnos, and it will be returned to him alone."

The troll chief leaned forward, his voice a low growl. "Are you threatening me?"

"W-what? No!" My voice cracked in protest, but the tension in the room spiked.

Agnos burst out laughing, clutching his sides. "So much for a conflict mediator. You're making this worse by the second. How in the world did you manage to get that license, anyway?"

"Shut up. You're not helping," I hissed, glaring at him. If looks could kill, Agnos would've been obliterated on the spot.

I turned back to the chief, clearing my throat.

"Let me rephrase," I began, clearing my throat. "Agnos here"—I pointed at the smug purple cat—"needs to enter the Forbidden Dungeon to retrieve an item. We mean no disrespect to the burial grounds or your ancestors. We just want the fragment."

The Chief's expression darkened. "The fragment? What is it to you?"

"Wait, you know about the fragment?" I asked, my voice tinged with surprise and a hint of trepidation. "It belongs to Agnos," I said, motioning toward the purple fuzzball.

My heart sank. Why did he look so...afraid?

At the mention of Agnos's ownership, the Troll Chief's entire demeanor shifted. His face paled, and for a moment, I swore I saw a flicker of recognition—or was it fear?—in his eyes.

"If that fragment is yours," the Chief said, his voice uncharacteristically subdued, "then we will allow you to enter."

I blinked. "Wait, that's it? Just like that?"

Agnos snickered. "What, expecting a fight to the death? Disappointed?"

Ignoring him, I turned back to the Chief. "You're serious? We can just walk in?"

The Chief hesitated before nodding. "If the fragment is his, then it is not ours to keep. But I must warn you—many who enter the Forbidden Dungeon do not return."

Great. Just great. Another near-death escapade with zero hazard pay. I looked at Agnos, who was already stretching like he'd been invited to a spa day.

"Can you at least tell me what we're walking into?" I asked him, already dreading the answer.

He grinned. "Oh, Carl. Where's the fun in that?"

And with that, we were officially heading to a dungeon so "forbidden" it made the trolls themselves tremble. Just another day in Mythica.

As we approached the entrance to the Forbidden Dungeon, the air grew colder, heavier, and downright sinister. The massive stone doorway loomed ahead, etched with ancient runes that glowed faintly in the dim light.

"Did I mention there's a guardian?" Agnos said cheerfully.

"Yes, you did. Several times. Care to elaborate?" I snapped.

Agnos's grin widened. "Let's just say it's an old...friend of mine."

My stomach churned. Somehow, I doubted this "friend" was the type to invite us in for tea and biscuits.