Pirin stared directly at the crystal wraith. It lumbered towards him, dwarfing him, but he didn’t move. He slid his mask onto his face and activated the runes, but instead of locking onto Gray’s core, he searched for the wraith’s Essence system.

With his spiritual senses undeveloped (arguably nonexistent), he only felt a slight tug from the direction of the wraith. It was enough to lock onto. As his Reyad formed and golden light seared his eyes, he latched on, trying to pass Essence over to the Wraith and call it back, creating a stable loop. When the Essence reached his chest, it shot out and through the air, reaching for a target…

When it returned moments later, it had a brownish-green tint.

Uh, Pirin… Gray said inside his head. You were supposed to get the wraith, not me!

Before Pirin could respond, the wraith swatted at him. He jumped back, trying to get out of range. Its hand scraped his shoulder, though, and just the force of that was enough to send him skidding along the ground.

Gray fluttered up and dove between the wraith’s shoulder and the wall. She flapped back to Pirin’s side, picking up his sword with her beak and dropping it in his lap.

“That didn’t work,” he gasped, still lying on his back.

I shouldn’t have been standing so close to it, Gray said. Try again.

“One second…”

Pirin thrust his arms out, unleashing a Winged Fist that pushed him along the ground, sliding himself further away from the wraith. The gust continued on, blasting a chunk of crystal off the wraith’s foreleg.

“Gives us a little room,” Pirin told Gray. He took his mask off, then, without giving his Essence channels a chance to rest, he shoved the mask back onto his face and fuelled the runes.

It activated. Another glow passed in front of his eyes, and an invisible weight drove him to his knees. All the air fled from his lungs. He did his best to lock on to the creature ahead.

It took a few seconds before he could even try to cycle again, and when he did, the Essence barely flowed out.

He passed the energy straight ahead—to the slowly-lumbering wraith. But the Essence turned. It stretched towards Gray, swirled around her core, and returned as gnatsnapper-bent Essence. He’d formed a Reyad with her again.

I swear, I didn’t do anything! Gray said with a chirp.

He pushed himself to his feet, struggling against his exhausted body, and staggered back a few steps. The culvert gate was too far to retreat. He had to fight now, and he had to win now.

At least they were faster than it. Or, it hadn’t decided if it really wanted to work hard to kill them.

The second was much more likely.

Pirin kept staggering back, trying to cycle his Essence down to his limbs to recover energy, hoping that the slight flow of Essence might refresh them just a little bit. He gasped, “I don’t think I can form a Reyad with it.”

Is our connection that strong? Gray asked. Wait a minute…look at its eyes!

Pirin turned his gaze up at Gray’s request, and stared into the creature’s eyes. It did have eyes, like the powerful dragon wraith, and they were dewy water as well. But they had no irises or pupils—not even a twig for a vertical slit.

“It might have a lot of Essence,” Pirin breathed, “but it has a weak soul. There’s nothing to latch onto without a soul.” He was still walking back down the hallway, and the wraith was still advancing. Pirin made sure there were always twenty paces between him and it, in case it changed its mind and charged.

You destroyed most of the dragon wraith’s soul before you formed a Reyad with me, Gray reminded him.

“But I had your soul to work with.”

Alright, I… Her voice trailed off. That makes sense. So how are we going to beat this one?

Pirin rolled his lips inward. He hadn’t had a backup plan until now. “Plan B: whittle it down until I can use the Whisper Hitch and take out its mind, or it becomes loose enough that we can disperse it.”

They set to work. Pirin evaded for a few minutes, until his limbs weren’t as numb and he could cycle his Essence back and forth between him and Gray. When his core was half-full with gnatsnapper Essence, he attacked.

First, he unleashed barrages of wind. He used the mobility of Gray’s Essence to dance around the wraith, blasting at the exposed spikes along its body—they were the weakest, and the easiest to break off. Gray ran interference, catching him when she needed to or distracting the wraith if Pirin was ever in trouble.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Once he had blasted off all the exposed spikes, he used the Winged Fist to create a bar of wind around his sword, making it cut through the air faster and shielding it upon impact.

After ten powerful swings—each cut off a barrel-sized chunk of the wraith’s legs—he ran out of gnatsnapper Essence. That left him with half a core of pure, un-bent Essence left. The wraith’s antlers couldn’t touch the ceiling anymore, and its shoulders no longer brushed the walls.

It was shrinking to maintain a tight form. Pirin wouldn’t have a chance to disperse it like usual.

He deactivated his Reyad and tucked his mask into his haversack. He’d used one Shattered Palm already. That gave him four more before his channels were too worn out, and if he wanted to use a Whisper Hitch at the end, he couldn’t push himself to the limit with just Shattered Palms.

So he used three Shattered Palms. One, he aimed at the gut of the wraith, sliding under its chest as he blasted upwards, making a crater in its belly. One, he blasted into its leg, targeting its ankle. That separated its entire foot.

For the last one, he hopped up onto Gray’s saddle, and with the extra height, he targeted the beast’s upper thigh.

The blast was strong enough to sever the entire leg. The limb fell and crumbled into a heap of crystals.

The wraith rearranged itself again, prioritizing a limited form that didn’t look like any sort of animal to Pirin. Just a four-legged lump with two watery eyes.

That was as close as he would get.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered.

The wraith turned towards him, and this time, it let out a bellow of true rage. It began to plod towards him, picking up speed.

There was no room for error, not when he had such limited spiritual endurance left. He dropped back into Gray’s saddle, then pulled his Essence back towards him. For this to work, he’d need the certainty of his link with Gray.

He and Gray dodged the beast for five minutes—Pirin counted—as he let his channels rest. They fluttered along the sides of the culvert, narrowly weaving between spikes of crystal, or dipped between the wraith’s legs, swerving around its stomping feet. Pirin guided Gray with normal, touch-based signals. She responded as she always did.

Two hundred and ninety-eight… Pirin thought.

Two hundred and ninety-nine…

Three-hundred. Five minutes.

He slid his mask back onto his face and activated the Reyad, just as Gray tucked her wings and fluttered around the side of the wraith. She landed back in the center of the hallway, skittering to a halt on the floor.

They made it back in front of the beast.

Pirin held out his hand and locked eyes with the creature, then activated the Whisper Hitch. A grey orb—the reflection of the beast’s mind—appeared in the palm of his hand.

The wraith didn’t have much of a soul, but what little it had was robust enough to resist any mental probing or external thoughts. Pirin couldn’t hear or sense anything, and all of his attempts to break through and feed the wraith a peaceful, calm feeling faded.

In fact, it fought back. It infected his Essence with rage, fear, and a hunger for more Essence, which he carried with him back to his mind. He resisted the feelings as best as he could, but eventually, the wraith would take over.

He needed to be quick. He pushed a wave of Essence at the grey orb in the palm of his hand, and it washed over, only ripping away a uniform outer layer. That wouldn’t be fast enough, and it spent too much Essence.

Like he was trying to extract an infection from a wound, he targeted the sections of the orb emitting the most rage. He blasted them with concentrated thrusts of Essence, ripping away small sections at a time before the rage could infect him.

But the wraith wasn’t exactly holding still and letting him tear apart its mind. It lunged forward, swinging a clawed limb at him and Gray. Pirin pulled back on Gray’s nape, and she hopped back. Another limb crashed towards him. He ducked and deflected the claw with the tip of his sword. His blade almost slipped from his grip, and even just the strike against bare steel made his foundation Timbers shudder.

If he had been struck any harder, they would have splintered.

He kept slicing away bits of the crystal wraith’s mind like he was cutting a gemstone. Flakes of the misty grey orb fluttered off into the air, turning to dust, and every second, less of the wraith’s rage bled into Pirin’s own Essence.

Pirin located an especially strong site of rage, and he hacked it away. With that, the wraith shrank. The crystals chattered and compressed, tightening. The closer crystals got to each other, the paler the wraith became. It wasn’t losing power, but it was changing form.

When he cut off two more tumors of rage, the beast was the size of a bear. No more anger poured into his Essence. He imagined the wraith as a plain hunting dog—tamable and passive. Then a barn cat—harmless and helpful.

For a brief second, the beast changed forms. It shifted appearances, like all the other wraiths he had seen had, but only for a second—and only to the two forms he had imagined. The weight on his spirit lifted slightly.

“Did you see that?” he asked Gray.

If you mean the appearance-changing stuff, yes, I did. If you mean the opening jaw and lunging bear, yes I also see that!

Pirin swung his sword ahead of him, lashing at the bear’s snout and driving it back a few steps. “Maybe we can tame it.”

Next, he targeted its hunger. It still wanted to consume living beings, with the hope that they had just a little bit of Essence for it to absorb. He cut off sections of its hunger from its soul, too, shrinking it down until it was half its original size. While he shaped the mind, he imagined it as a fox—not entirely harmless, but controllable, and tameable given enough time. Its snout pushed out, and a bushy white tail stretched out its back.

The only thing guarding the soul now was fear, and that too, Pirin cut away, using the last dregs of his Essence as knives. The wraith tried to turn and run away, but Pirin was too fast, and the fox stopped in its tracks, freed of fear as well.

There was nothing left in its mind except soft, animalistic impressions, and Pirin released the Whisper Hitch. He hopped off Gray’s back and staggered towards the creature.

It was the size of a house cat, but from all other angles, it was a fox. That is, if foxes were covered in crystalline fur and had pale eyes of concentrated dew.

The little creature let out a breathy yip, then ran to Pirin’s feet. It rubbed past his leg, then flopped down on his boot.

“Gray,” he whispered, “I think we found ourselves a new friend…”