Fair Warning: alternate pov. Unedited. Error Typos. Original Characters are not mine to own and legally so, except the Oc(s) and plot(?).

Fated Encounters

In his first few hours in the dungeons fighting off monsters, Harry eventually discovered his limit when he, out of nowhere, is surrounded by Kobold monsters. Their levels do not exceed level one but together they are as pesky as the monsters from the tenth floor. Defeating these monsters should be easy but without his magic, now, that's a whole different story.

"Bloody hell, I'm weak!" Harry yells in disbelief. Lying down the cold ground with his sword on his side, he feels his chest moving rhythmically at his gasps of breath as he is desperate for air and rest.

Harry hears laughter as a voice speaks to him "At least you know that you are, you're not so hopeless, kid" Harry traces his gaze upward following the sound and finds a man in his mid-twenties with dark-orange locks with a triangular chest light armor hovering over his face, smirking ad if he is currently not invading his personal space. "Yo, you look much worse up close."

"I, thank you?" Harry blurted uncomfortably while their faces are within a few inches apart.

"So, rookie, what in that tiny brain of yours made you want to fight like that. Is it for a girl? Fame, I wouldn't be surprised." Personal boundaries become so insignificant when Harry is suddenly bombarded with a not-so-subtle insult from the man.

"Pardon? I aspire to none of those! I'll have you know I only did what I did simply for an experiment and I am more than aware of what I was doing," he says to the older man

"Yeah, sure. Whatever keeps you at night kid." Never in his short post-amnesiac life has Harry wanted to hex someone so much with all the intention just keep their mouth shut.

Harry, about to give it all up, suddenly hears a cry, and the old man is no longer above him, instead, the man is hunch over besides, his hands clutching at his foot.

Harry sits up curiously, unbothered by a potential threat even though he senses no killing intent around the area. Then, a blonde woman walks in.

She wears a long, black, and purple dress with slits to the sides along with a cloak that drapes around her shoulder, and on her one hand, she carries a silver metallic staff with three blue crystal cores as its ornaments.

"Ray, I told you to keep your provocation in check, we don't need another unnecessary trouble every time you talk to people." the witchy woman speaks in a plain voice as if she reprimanding the man is not the first time she's done for a while.

The witchy woman then shifts her gaze at him, " I apologize for my comrades' manners, the lack of it rather. He means well."

"If you put it that way, it's fine. I guess." It doesn't mean his urge to hex the man faded yet though.

" I am Lyna Perell and that one over there is my partner, Rayleigh Ark. And you are..." she trails her words encouraging him for his name.

Finding introduction sitting while the other's standing rude, he stands up as he gives his name.

"I'm Harry...um, just Harry," the teen wizard tells her shyly, slightly ashamed of not knowing his last name if he does have one. Unaware of his internal conflict, she responds cordially." Nice to meet you Harry, and Ray too" the man grumbles.

" Now with that aside, it can't be helped when we saw you in trouble, no matter how we adventurers are competitive sometimes human life is still important that is why we were only concern about your safety."

" I might have been a little bit gung-ho, I admit but I assure you I had it all handled, in any case, if worse comes to worst I'll resort to plan b,"

" Would the plan b include the item you are holding?" She asks referring to the wand she saw him holding the other day at the dungeon's entrance hall.

Confused, Harry tilts his head in question before feeling a slight pressure that was strapped around his thigh. Upon realization, Harry grabs his wand from the holster and lets the two unknown adventures take a look at his wand.

"You mean this one? Well, you could say using my wand is my plan c. Plan b is me mainly running away, actually" he explains sheepishly

" That's a wand, a stick? That's an odd shape of a magical item" Ray, fully recovered, asks dubiously but holds a curious gaze on it.

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Lyna nods at her partner's words but grimaced inwardly at his manners. It's also her first time seeing a wand with such a design it has no ornaments, not even a core onsight unlike most of the items mages own, rather, what makes it so distinct aside from its morbid similarity to a human skeletal finger, are the strange marks coated underneath with a light silver-like coat around a part of the wand.

But, despite how flimsy its appearance might be at first glance, the item has quite an aura of magic around it which means the "stick" as Ray claims, is definitely more than what it looks like.

With the help of her skill [Third Eye ], she is able to visibly sense the magic that takes a form of an aura of sorts, basically, her skill lets her see if a person carries a magical item or not. Ray, on the other hand, obviously possesses no such skill and is just being himself which does not say a lot, and has managed to offend the rookie by calling his item a stick. She can't blame the teen though, the female mage would have also electrocuted him as well if ever Ray comments badly at her item.

It won't be the first nor last time Ray would unknowingly and/or purposefully insult someone. He is considered second to Bete, personality-wise, for a reason in their familia after all.

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" This stick is just as useful and powerful as any other wands and staffs," Harry defends, it strangely irks him how his wand is being called a stick, of all things.

"A wand. Then, correct me if I'm wrong, you're a mage?" Harry nods

"You're a mage?"

" So I guessed right." The two commented simultaneously. Ray is unanimously ignored.

"Does it really look that weird?" Harry asks her as he makes a do-over at his supposedly strange-looking item, although he does understand why they see it that way. Compared to other magical items, his wand may look less than average, underwhelming even, some of the mages don't even use wands and use a staff instead which is just as effective depending on how they are crafted.

"It's an heirloom, I'm probably used to its appearance and not question on it" Harry shrugs.

"I wouldn't particularly call it weird, it's unique-looking more like" Lyna reasons as Ray snorts behind her followed by his cry when he suddenly felt another jolt of electricity feeling down his foot, she casually resumes.

"That aside, can you help us understand why you were not using your magic? If you don't mind telling us, of course."

"Why not, it is not like I'm keeping it a secret." At his confirmation, the sixteen-year-old teen proceeds to a brief explanation about his intentional circumstance, although being ambushed was not planned, and his reason on not using his magic.

He tries to disclose his purpose as short and straightforward as he could in hopes that his mere reason should interest them enough that it would stray their interest in his magic entirely.

"I see, that is quite one technique in testing your abilities albeit a faulty one," Lyna says thoughtfully, unaware of the figurative jab it carries.

"D-do you think so? I" Harry responds as he shyly scratches the back of his head.

" Although I partially understand the reason behind your intention, I don't think it was wise of you to do. Testing your limits may be good for your development, but at the cost of your safety, possibly, your life, it is never ideal."

" I, for one, agree with her. I'm not a swordsman but even I can tell your form was sloppy, your reflexes and timing are decent, but your attacks are too light not to mention your defense is just god awful. Your lucky you even survived from that pincer."

"I'm sorry about that, by the way"

Ray shrugs, unconcerned. "Eh, as long as it was your ass and not mine that's on the line."

"Thank you, I guess?"

" Boy, I'm asking you seriously. Do you want to survive in this dungeon for a long time or die recklessly?"

"I want to live, yes" Harry replies, ignoring the older man's title of him.

" Then you know you won't if you keep on having these, frankly, stupid ideas. I mean you're on a verge of being beaten to death and yet you stubbornly did not use the best source of weapon that you have and refuse help when you were clearly outmanned. People might call that being brave and whatnot but to me, I call that being prideful stupid. "

"What do I need to do?" Ray beams at him with a smirk.

" I thought you'd never ask kid."

{ An Hour Later}

Harry arrives at his home tired with countless bruises and gash marks all over his body he's ever had since ever. But, despite his battered state fulfillment outweighed the trouble he has faced knowing this has been the farthest he has gone for himself.

It has only been two months since he woke up as an amnesiac kid who remembers not a single thing but his name. He became an adventurer for a week now but it is only because the old man thought his, apparently, unique skill in magic will be a waste if remained stagnant.

Harry doesn't mind being an adventurer in fact he enjoys the exploration and the mysteries the place brought, and although he has tried to explore the lower floor by himself, after he met with Ray and Lyna he finally understood the essence of having company with you while exploring the dungeons: the usefulness of teamwork, the teammates' praise and encouragement, and even the banter, Harry has not experienced any of those since he is always alone that it makes him feel left out as an adventurer.

Perhaps, exploring the dungeon becoming a self-titled adventurer is not so bad after all.

After a nice, warm rinse, and a set of fresh sleeping clothes Harry is more than ready to plop on his bed and pass out. Harry falls asleep with a promise to come back to the dungeon. "Familia," he mutters as he indulges in slumber.

Meanwhile, "The kid sure is a weird one," Rayleigh tells his partner as they made their way out from the entrance.

The female mage hums in agreement," Harry quite a character for sure, but aren't most of the people in our familia are? "Rayleigh halts on his tracks for a moment and shrugs, "touche," he says and resumes his pace.

"It was very generous of you giving the boy some advice"

The Brawler scoffs, "I may be an asshole but I'm not Bete, I try to give out hands to people if they are smart enough to accept it. It depends on the kid if he listens to it or not."

" Still that was kind of you. For someone with a notorious title on his head, Harry looks pretty genuine to me"

"You know the guy? Now that I think about it he does look familiar, what Familia does he belong to anyways?" Lyna quirked a brow at him before she rolls her eyes.

"Of course you of all people can't recognize him. Just because the boy used to wear worn-out clothes doesn't mean you have to be stupid not to recognize him after a new set of clothes," she says, giving him a look of disbelief.

"What the hell are you talking about, woman? Tell me."

"Why did I even bother?" she asks mostly to herself then faces her companion unamused. " If you are so interested figure it out yourself," she states before she walks ahead from the oblivious adventurer. He exclaims. "Tell me!"

"You're an idiot."

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A/N: I'm dead. I've been wracking my noggin for a couple of days now about how I'll do this one and in the end, I decided that I'll just let this story flow whatever my hammered brain is thinking at the moment.

Q: If you were an adventurer, what is your class/ developmental ability and weapon of choice?

A's A: I'd probably be a monk like Ray, my OC. My fists are the primary weapon, the secondary weapon would be a staff for range. Cool, right?

BTW, Yes, Rayleigh is a monk, fisticuffs baby.