Korsha gagged, bile rising in her throat as the putrid stench of rotting flesh permeated her senses. Lifting her aching neck, she gazed up at the towering spires overhead, their jagged edges slicing through the sky like the razor-sharp mandibles of a monstrous insect. A deep radiating pain shot through her, and she knew she was going to be left with a brutal bruise. If I survive this place.

A tremor wracked her body as she gazed around. She couldn't see anything save for the storm clouds above. The hood that had once shielded her face now hung uselessly around her neck. The hood had been split, leaving two ragged edges that whipped about as the cold gnawed on her exposed face. She gritted her teeth, determined not to let fear take control. If she was going to make it out alive, she needed to stay focused.

As she turned her head, her eyes were drawn to the lifeless, glassy stare of a near-human worker. Those unfocused eyes seemed to draw her in. His skin was a deep shade of red, his face youthful and handsome, but now twisted in a horrific expression of pain and agony. The beginning of a beard lined his chin and cheeks, as if frozen in time along with the rest of him.

His mouth was open, stretched beyond what any mouth should be capable of. Its features captured in a silent screaming. The intense anguish and suffering seemed to pour out of him like some contractible disease. Creeping through the air and infecting her with its horror.

The sight struck her as a visceral, raw, gut-wrenching reminder of what she was facing. This wasn't just a spirit. This was the spirit of a mad mage.

“Finally.”

Korsha spun. She saw her nail laying beside her. Grabbing it, she forced herself up and wielded its baleful crimson light before her.

“Now, now. I wouldn't want to have to hurt you.”

Korsha blinked as her brow furrowed. That made no sense. Why wouldn't he want to hurt her? Wasn't that why he dragged her down here? He'd obviously waited to activate his foul ritual until he'd brought her here. But why? She cursed the technomancers for not letting her study arcane theory. If they’d only would have believed in her faithfulness. She wouldn’t use it to rebel as her predecessors had. She was loyal. They had deprived her of a tool and now she was going to die for it.

A burst of light manifested, causing her to shield her eyes. Her heart raced. Had her plan worked? Was the primordial free? Dread filled her as she saw the light persisted. It was off to her left. Another light appeared off to her other side. Then another and another and another. She had a sinking feeling in her gut as she dropped her hand from her face. A black void floated before her in the shape of a man seated in a lotus position. The thing floated in the air. Arms, so many damned arms, extended from its back.

Karkortus.

The flood lights that lined the edge of the crater had forced him into a more solidified form. Korsha's mind raced. He was up to something. He didn't seem the type to give up an advantage for no reason.

The arms behind him flex and shot out in all directions. Korsha dropped back, the nail's tip scratching the air before her as she anticipated the attack. Yet the arms hadn't come for her. A purple haze appeared at the edges of the ritual site.

“What're you doing!”

Karkortus's head lifted. His eyes were unseen, yet piercing her all the same. It made her shrivel up inside. He chuckled as two more hands appeared. They reached out towards her. A second later, her body jerked. She gasped as unseen hands squeezed her.

Then it hit her.

My armor creates a shadow inside. She struggled as she was lifted off the ground. Gently, she moved forward. The edges of her boots scraping along the ground, bouncing as they hit one of the corpses.

“It'll all be over soon.”

“My death will grant you nothing! You won't get away. They'll hunt you down like the wretch you are.”

Karkortus howled in triumph; a vile, depraved cackle that sent chills down Korsha's spine. Tears burned her cheeks as she futilely fought against the magic that held her hostage. If she's had someone here to protect her, she would have survived. You did, and you betrayed her.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Her jaw tightened, her eyes darted around, as she looked in vain for something - anything - that she might be able to use. With a strength born from adrenaline and fear, she used every last ounce of her will to bring her nail up. Hoping she could press it against her armor. The goddess's wrath might seem in and-

“I'll be taking that.”

A searing pain erupted in her hand as her clenched fingers were forced apart. The bones aching from the jarring movement.

"No, no, no!"

Tears of agony streamed down her face, and a silent scream tore through her soul as the hilt of the blade was torn from her grip. With a deafening crash, her hope clattered to the ground.

“Tell me, binder. Would your people suspect you?”

She stared at him; her face twitching as she tried to understand his question. Around her, the edges of the ritual area began to fray, as if reality was tearing itself apart. Currents of stormy energy whipped through the air, slashing and howling as they picked up speed. Karkortus sat motionless, unaffected by the power surging around them. He was the eye of the storm. The answer to the question hit her like a knife to the gut.

“You're going to switch our bodies.”

“Clever one. Don't worry, I'll make good use of that.”

“They'll see through it. They'll question you about why you failed to rebind the spirit.”

He cocked his head to the side. A wide smile splitting the fears of his face.

“But there is going to be a spirit bound to spire three.”

A scream tore itself free from her lips as another current of power raked its claws against reality. She was nearly out of time. She had to find a way out of this. But there was nothing she could do. Trembling, she tilted her head back, gazing up into the churning dark clouds one last time. She watched the snow and ash falling down around her, somehow unaffected by the ritual's building energy. In that moment, she had only one regret: that she would not be able to die beneath the starlight.

The clouds burned as silver veins surging through them. Thunder bellowed. Then the world exploded as a sunburst of light encompassed everything. It was followed by the deafening roar of a primordial.

Her body was thrown to the ground. Her fall cushioned by one of the corpses. The world fell into darkness once more. Karkortus scream and his hands grabbed at her, pinning her down. Then there was another flash of lightning. This time, Korsha jumped to her feet.

“You will not leave.” Karkortus said in a pained, rasping voice.

Lightening struck like blessed judgement. Another burst of energy struck the tip of a spire above.

In the flash of light, Korsha saw Karkortus's body shrivel. It had been reduced to a humanoid shape. No extra arms. Korsha knew why fire had been the shadowancer's undoing. Fire, as a light source, was chaotic at heart. It was in a never ending, ever-changing dance that birthed and killed shadows in the same breath. Karkortus had no chance of grabbing them.

Another lightning strike. Korsha watched as the hands he'd formed were washed away in the brilliance. Sprinting forward, she reached down, grabbed her nail and raced toward Karkortus. He was turning. Fleeing. The battle having turned against him. She shifted the grip on her blade, arced her hand back and threw. As the blade left her hand, she tethered herself to it.

Her feet left the ground as she closed the distant. Her hand shifted, reaching up and placing the palm of her hand on the bottom of the hilt. Her momentum bled away, but it didn't matter. Just as the blade struck Kartorus, she thrust her hand forward, ensuring the blade buried itself up to its hilt. His body spasmed. Tendrils of shadow leaping out as though his body were struggling to hold itself together.

She released her blade. She raised her hands before her, palms facing the storm. The shackler at the base of her back clicked, opening. She panted. Licking her lips, she growled. The connection between her and the shackler's hand had been made. Raising her hands, the chains slithered up into the air. With a quick strike, the shackler shot forward, the clamp slamming and then biting down around Karkortus's leg. Another slammed into his arm. With a gesture, they retracted, slowly pulling him towards her.

“Not so fun, is it?” Korsha spat, dropping a hand to her the utility belt.

"Please, no! You don't know what it's like in there."

She snatched up an empty shard and held it up before her. She wondered what color he'd be. Karkortus had fallen to the ground, his ethereal hands clawing in desperation as he tried to find any purchase that would delay the inevitable. He passed over the bodies of innocent workers he'd slain, clawing at their bodies. She flicked her hand up, causing the shacklers to throw him up into the air.

As he was reeled in, there was a moment their eyes had met. She realized that this could have been her if it hadn't been for her master finding her. She suppressed the shiver that had wanted to shake her. Instead, she glared at him, her head tilting down to watch his approach.

“I shall give you,” she paused as she tossed the shard towards him. It split into a thousand pieces, it’s vibrating pieces hovering in the surrounding air. An instant later, then slammed down upon him, forcing his spirit inside. Korsha stepped toward the now hovering crystal. Her eyes watched the flickering black and orange colors that pulsed within.

Korsha smiled as she reached up and brought the shard up to her face.

“Purpose.”