Trekking through the treacherous dunes, the Spider King pulled his royal cloak tight against the biting gusts of desert dust. Each step was a test, the swirling sand stinging his exposed face and hands. On the back of his hand, a glimmer caught his eye—a dusting of powdery crystals, scintillating like gems of the sands. Earth SpiritStones – the commodity of the WyrmCity, fine shimmering treasures hidden within the sandy dunes.

“I’m close. I know I am,” he muttered, though each step through the storm seemed to pull him further into an abyss of swirling chaos. “And yet… I can’t help but feel I’ve never been farther away.”

Ahead, the sandstorm cleared and a looming silhouette rose from the shifting sands: one of the city’s monolithic guardians. The SandStorm Obelisk stood proud, its angular frame humming with ancient, chaotic, albeit familiar power. Spirals of shimmering dust whipped upward, drawn into a raging vortex encircling the city like a living, swirling barrier. This wasn’t just a shield; it was an unyielding storm given form, a wall of fury warding off all intruders. The Endless SandStorm.

“It’s gathered so much,” the Spider King murmured, approaching the obelisk. Its surface bristled with crystalline sediment—glassy fragments of SpiritStone clinging like flies to the web on the weathered monolith. He reached out to touch it, his fingers grazing the crystalline deposits. Sparks leapt from the surface, biting at his skin with a sharp, electric crackle.

“The Earth arcana here is stronger than I imagined…” he muttered, rubbing his singed fingers. “And its interference… well, that was unexpected.” A rare note of frustration entered his voice. “So strong, it’s blocking my ShadowWalk. A royal inconvenience.”

He picked at the crystalline deposits, shards breaking free and vanishing into his Inventory with a faint shimmer of purple light. The power of the obelisk surged through his fingertips as he worked. “If I harvest these, it will weaken. But even so… .”

Beyond this obelisk, countless others loomed, their grandeur hidden by the storm’s unrelenting dust clouds. Each one a keystone in the endless enchantment protecting the city. As long as even one stood, the endless vortex would rage, impenetrable and unyielding.

He sighed, shielding his face from the swirling grit as he turned his gaze back toward the obscured horizon. “I’ve completely lost my sense of direction…” he admitted, scanning for any break in the storm. “This… this feels like a maze.”

Another sigh. Another step forward—aimless, or perhaps guided by some unseen but chaotic hand. “Someone tells me I need to go this way,” he muttered to no one in particular, his royal cloak billowing as he disappeared into the sand clouds.

Onward he trudged, through the chaos of the storm, his patience wearing thinner with each passing moment.

“…That blasted noodle of a wyrmling,” he growled. “How does he expect his guests to find their way to the city?”

Only the howling wind answered. A harsh, unrelenting dirge that offered neither comfort nor direction. He continued walking, his thoughts swirling like the sand around him.

“… Perhaps I should have asked those Fennec to escort me…”

It was, of course, far too late for that.

“… I, the Spider King… I am totally, utterly, and completely lost,” he finally admitted, his pride crumbling under the weight of his predicament.

Then, like a whisper of salvation, a voice rose from the storm.

“–Spider–King–”

The words slithered through the air, faint but undeniable. They came from everywhere and nowhere.

“–Come–Come–”

He halted, his eyes darting, searching the turbulent haze for the source. The sound wasn’t carried by the wind—it was the wind. The very grains of sand seemed to vibrate with each syllable.

“–Follow–My–Whispers–”

The Spider King frowned. “Huh?! Speak louder!” he bellowed, his voice swallowed by the storm. “Your words are lost in this infernal wind! I don’t know where to go!”

“–This–Way– … –Spider–King–” The whisper came again, stronger now, as if the storm itself was guiding him. “–Follow–My–Whispers–”

Compelled by a force he could neither see nor explain, he trudged forward. Each whisper seemed to rise before him, carving a faint path through the chaos.

“–Spider–King–” it repeated, insistent. “–Come–This–Way–”

Step by step, the storm began to thin. The oppressive roar softened, giving way to an eerie stillness. At last, he emerged into a pocket of calm—another tranquil eye at the heart of the storm.

“!!!”

The sight before him stole his breath. Instead of the anticipated obelisk or the elusive gates of WyrmCity, he stood before a monolithic tree. It towered above him, impossibly vast, its gnarled trunk blackened and scarred as if burned by millennia of torment. Shadows clung to its tar-like bark, swirling and churning slowly. Its branches were jagged and spindly, like the crooked legs of a spider poised to strike.

The air around it was thick, almost suffocating, laden with an aura of chaos and something dark. Something ancient and hungry lingered here. Yet, he recognized it immediately.

Actually… A creation of his own making!

“The Whispering Baobab!” he exclaimed, his voice competing with the roar of the sandstorm.

“–Yes–It–Is–I– … –Your–Servant– … –The–Whispering–Baobab–” the whispers cooed, now emanating from the tree itself. Its words slid across his skin like cold, hard, appendages of the spider. “–Now–Come–Closer– … –Closer–”

The Spider King hesitated, but the tree's call was strong, its voice echoing in his mind.

“–Come–Closer–Spider–King–”

And so, already knowing how it goes, he rested his hand on the shadowy bark of the baobab.

“–My–King–Listen–To–… –My–Whispers– … –I–Have–Secrets–To–Tell–“

The Spider King closed his eyes, leaning closer to the sibilant voice of the whispering tree. The tar-like shadows of its bark oozed over his hand, claiming it as though the tree itself demanded tribute for its whispered truths. Tendrils of darkness coiled up his arm as the connection deepened.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Suddenly, a vision erupted within his mind—swirling, violent, and chaotic. A monstrous shadow emerged, majestic and commanding, its silhouette obfuscated in the veil of darkness. It felt ancient—far older than the desert sands that swirled endlessly around him. Its presence was primal and domineering, radiating a cruel majesty that eclipsed even the scorching sun.

The Spider King’s breath hitched as fragmented details of the beast came into focus. A raptor's fierce plumage, catching the dim light in hues of gold and crimson. The razor claws of a lion, striking and lethal, each talon glistening as if dipped in the molten heart of the earth. And its face… a haunting, otherworldly visage of beauty that seemed neither mortal nor entirely divine.

But the vision faltered. The image cracked and shattered, like a fragile mirage exposed to the cruel winds of the desert. Desperate, he willed the connection to hold, pulling with all his focus. Yet the more he strained, the more elusive the creature became.

“What is that beast?” he demanded, voice tinged with awe and frustration. His hand remained encased in the shadowy bark, tendrils writhing like a horde of spiderlings around his wrist.

“–It–Is–A–Secret–” the baobab crooned, its voice playful but plottingly coy.

The Spider King exhaled sharply. “Hmm… But I know you know that secret. Come now, Mighty Baobab, reveal the truth.”

“–A–Payment–I–Desire–”

“Hmm… I don’t particularly feel like being extorted by a tree. Hopefully, you won't ask too much?”

“–Something–Only–The–Spider–King–Can–Provide–”

The King arched a brow. “That totally doesn't sound foreboding... What is it?”

“–T–…–Te–…” The whispers stumbled, sounding a tad too excited. “–Ten–Whole–Squirrel–Souls–I–Desire–!!!”

The Spider King didn’t hesitate. “Deal!” He slammed the ethereal squirrel souls directly into the tree’s bark, watching as the shadows greedily consumed them. The bark rippled and pulsed, the baobab’s spindly branches wriggling with unbridled glee.

The wood groaned and creaked, emitting eerie, bone-chilling sounds as the tree devoured its payment. “–The–Creature–You–Saw– –She–Is–A–Wife–Of–…– Of–Your–Familiar–”

“What?!” The Spider King jumped back, eyes wide with the scandal of it all. “No… no way!” He paced in agitation, his thoughts a jumbled in a web. “But rather than springing this piece of gossip on me, wouldn’t you tell me what manner of creature she is?”

“–She–Is–A–Maiden–In–Love–”

“No, you insufferable tree, I mean her race!”

“–Even–The–Violent–Winds–Do–Not–Know– … –I–Do–Not–Have–Those–Whispers– … –But–She–Is–Something–Great–”

The Spider King slammed his fist against the bark in frustration. “What use are you then? Give back my Souls!”

“–That–I–Cannot–Do–“ The baobab’s branches waved dismissively, shadows flickering in apology. “–But–Spider–King–Listen–To– … –My–Whispers– … –I–Have–More–Secrets–To–Tell–”

“Secrets? Bah! Through that connection we shared… I too have seen an inkling of your mind!”

“–!!!–“

“You’re just full of 'hot n’ saucy desert gossip'!!!"

“–…–“

“What is this expression?! I’ve never seen it on a tree!” Slightly amused the Spider King poses a demand. “Just tell me how to get to the WyrmCity already!”

“–T– … –Twe– …” The whispers faltered again before bursting out in unison. “–Twenty–Whole–Squirrel–Souls–I–Desire–!!!”

“Deal!!” The Spider King once more delivered the required souls with a dramatic slap, pressing them into the slighly flustered bark. “Now talk!”

“–King– … –You–Was–Meant–To–Follow–The–Cobbled–Road– … –Follow–The–Road–And–You–Would–Reach–It– … –No–Magic–Needed–”

The Spider King paused, deadpan. “The road? Well yes, it was there in the beginning… But I just thought using ShadowWalk would be faster! … My bad. Where’s this road?”

“–Hmm– … –I–Do–Not–Know–” The baobab whispers casually.

“WHAT?!”

“–I–Am–A–Tree–Rooted–In–One–Place– … –I–Do–Not–Walk–Nor–Tread–The–Roads– … –How–Would–I–Know–?”

“Rheee!!! Is gossip is all you good for? Give back my Souls!” He slammed his fists against the bark furiously.

“–But–I–Can–Ask–The–Violent–Winds– … –They–Can–Show–You–”

The Spider King glared. “You’d better not be messing with me again!”

“–I–Am–Not– … –You–Are–My–King–After–All– … –[Summon]–”

The sand beneath the baobab erupted in a swirl of elemental magic, grains spinning with guided precision. From the vortex, a creature began to form—a squirrel, its body composed entirely of sand, its glowing eyes sharp and mischievous.

“!!!” The Spider King blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know you could do that!”

“–Now–I–Can– … –Follow–It– … –It–Will–Guide–You–”

“Meep-Meep,” the squirrel let a sound only a squirrel was capable of.

The Spider King exhaled, his anger ebbing away as he patted the tree’s bark. “Thank you, Mighty Baobab. You’ve actually saved me this time.”

“–Come–Again–Spider–King– … –I–Will–Have–More–… –Gossip–… –I–Mean–Secrets–To–Whisper–”

“Aha! So it is gossip! … Sure thing, but only when I’m not in a rush.”

“Meep!!!” The sand squirrel impatiently scurried forward, urging him to follow.

With a wave goodbye to the whispering gossip tree, the Spider King stepped into the dust storm once more, the sand squirrel hopping ahead to guide his path through the swirling chaos.

…

A cloth-veiled figure emerged from the swirling storm into the tranquil eye of calmness. Fine grains of sand cascaded from their robes as they stepped forward, their wide, overly big, blue eyes locking onto the towering majesty of the Whispering Baobab.

“Wow! No wonder my TreasureSense was tingling!” Their voice carried a breathless awe as they took in the ominous tree’s sprawling, shadowed form.

The baobab’s branches creaked and wove themselves together conspiratorially, casting flickering patterns over the sand. “–A–Customer– … –I–Mean–Another–Lost–Soul–!!!” the whispers cooed, sly and inviting. “–Come– … –Come–Closer– … –I–Have–Hot–Desert–Gossip– … –I–Mean–Secrets–To–Tell–”

“Wow! Secrets? Yes-Yes!” The figure hopped forward, excitement bubbling over in their every movement. They skipped up to the tree with a childlike giddiness, their veiled ears twitching beneath the hood.

“–Rest–Your–Paw–On–My–Shadowy–Bark–And– … –Surrender–Your–Mind– … –I–Mean–Listen–Carefully–To–My–Whispers–”

“Yes–Yes! My paws are all here!” They pressed their furry hand eagerly against the shadowy bark. “My treasure thingy is tingling already—this will be good!!!”

The baobab’s tar-like surface writhed in delight, the shadows weaving a webby pattern. “–Oh–Your–Mind–Has–Delicious–Secrets– … –I–Mean– … –Listen–To–This– … –The–Spider–King– … –He–And–This–Centaur–Woman–Had–A–Tryst– … –Hee–Hee-– … –And–Now–She–Carries–His–Child–!!!”

Through the shadowy connection, the baobab flooded the fennec’s mind with dodgy and scandalous images—blurry yet undeniably steamy fragments of the ordeal.

“Wh-what is this!” The figure recoiled, pulling their paws back as their cheeks flushed a deep red beneath the veil. “My TreasureSense is tingling, but this is not the treasure I wanted!”

“–Tch–” The whispers clicked, a sound like branches snapping underfoot. “–Noone–Appreciates–My–Secrets– … –I–Know–What–You–Want– … –I–Saw–It–In–Your–Mind– … –Here–[Summon]–”

The sand beneath the tree stirred, and an adorable creature began to take shape from the grains. A tiny sand squirrel, its body glimmering faintly with elemental magic, formed and blinked at the veiled figure with eyes like polished gemstones.

“Wow! So cute! I didn’t know you could do that!” The fennec’s eyes sparkled with delight as they crouched down, bushy tail wagging beneath their robes.

“–Now–I–Can– … –Follow–It–And–It–Will–Guide–You–To–The–Obelisk–You–Seek– … –Its–Riches–Are–Yours–To–Harvest–”

“Yes-Yes! I will! Thank you, mighty tree!” The fennec hopped to their feet, already preparing to follow the elemental guide.

… Then the baobab’s whispers called out again, stopping the fennec.

“–Not–So–Fast–”

“???”

“–Half–Of–The–SoulStones– … –Bring–Them–To–Me– … –That–Is–My–Price–”

“Half?” The fennec straightened, their sparkling eyes narrowing into cunning slits. “As an upstanding fennec, I can’t part with half. How about one percent?” Their voice grew firm, a merchant’s fire igniting as they leaned closer to the bark.

“–Forty–Nine–Percent–” the whispers countered.

“Hmm... Five percent!”

The negotiation escalated into a fierce and animated haggling session, shadows and sand swirling around the two combatants of wit. The tree’s creaks and groans blended with the fennec’s rapid-fire counteroffers.

The air between them crackled with conspiracy as the two negotiated on the illegal heist on the SandStorm Obelisk.