image [https://miro.medium.com/v2/format:webp/1*drAZiji_8jjb1bGGblwhGw.jpeg]

The sickening sound of dark, ominous chanting as the shadowy figures in red robes emerge seems to wrap around my chest, constricting tighter with every step they take. The ethereal blue light glowing behind them casts eerie shadows that writhe and twist like the powerful eels in Auilqa rivers. My stomach churns as I imagine the completion of their ritual, its dark power poised to unleash unspeakable pain and torment upon the people of Pachil.

“What do we do?” is all I can muster from my lips. Yet, because no one else speaks the Auilqa tongue, only Noch responds. She hisses, arcing her back and prepared to fight. I plead for her to not do anything reckless, and to wait until a plan is formed.

Tlexnín snarls at the sight. “They have lured us in,” I hear her say, thanks to Noch staying behind, much to my relief. “We must bring the fight to them and put an end to these blights on Ulxa.”

“Wait,” Walumaq urges, holding out a hand. “We can’t rush in there yet until we know what we’re about to face. What is that blue flame? And what terrible feat does the chanting precede?”

“Tlexnín is right,” Paxilche says, stepping forward and looking ahead at the grim scene. “If we don’t disrupt whatever it is they’re doing, they could bring forth something disastrous and insurmountable.”

“Look at them,” Tlexnín insists with a growl. “They are too focused on performing the ritual. We have the element of surprise!”

The eyes of Walumaq narrow as she studies the cultists. “Surprise won’t mean much if we don’t know how to counter their magic. That blue flame… it’s not natural. It could be a protective ward, a signal… or worse.”

Paxilche clenches his fists as his jaw tightens. “Then we need to find a way to disrupt them without getting ourselves killed. Maybe we can cause a distraction, something to break their concentration.”

We investigate the scene, looking for any clues to lead us to a solution that will stop this maniacal chanting. But our search is cut short when a terrible rumbling quakes the ground beneath us. We exchange nervous and terrified looks between ourselves, silently questioning what is happening.

“We are too late,” Tlexnín snarls.

She and the band of Sanqo warriors lead a group of Ulxa warriors sprinting toward the source of the disturbance. Startled by this abrupt act, Paxilche and Walumaq take off, while Noch and I hurriedly chase after them.

Another tremor nearly knocks us all off balance and off our feet. The intense chanting grows louder and louder, the horrendous sounds stealing my breath. Flashes of orange spring up from the temple, blending in with the blue glow to make the air itself shimmer with unnatural hues. The terrain beneath us feels alive, pulsing in rhythm with the chanting, as if the very grounds of Analoixan are being awakened by the ritual.

Beyond the temple, unseen forces stir. The trees sway violently despite the still air, and the remnants of buildings in the city seem to groan in agony. Shadows dance and bend in the periphery, hinting at forms too terrible to fully comprehend.

Tlexnín refuses to let the disturbance disrupt her desire to storm the temple. She raises her spear high, shouting something that draws deafening war cries from her fellow Ulxa, briefly drowning out the guttural chanting. Undeterred, they race toward the sound, weapons raised.

You should know that I follow behind reluctantly, my heart hammering with each step. Sweat beads on my forehead, trickling down as the ground quivers beneath my feet. My breath comes in shallow gasps, my mind racing with images of unspeakable horrors. The voice of Noch reaches my ears, likely offering words of encouragement, but they are overwhelmed by the roaring fear that grips me. The chants of this dark cult reverberate through my chest, and I can barely hold my focus.

When the temple appears in my view, the scene is worse than what I had been imagining as I ran behind the warriors. Members of the Eye in the Flame stand in an enormous circle, surrounding the remains of a stone structure. From where I stand, I can see a gaping hole in the center, its jagged edges resembling the maw of a gigantic beast that is ready to devour the remnants of the temple whole.

The ground shudders violently as the chanting of the cultists reaches a fevered intensity. From the ruined depths of the temple, a monstrous figure claws its way up. A towering behemoth of molten rock and volcanic stone ascends, its body glowing with the ferocity of a thousand fires. Lava seeps through fissures in its hardened exterior, the black volcanic rock jagged and sharp. Eyes of pure flame cut through the darkness, burning with the intensity of a midday sun. A serpentine tail armored in scales of cooled lava thrashes behind it. As it rises to its full height, the air thickens with blistering heat, making it even harder to breathe in my already panicked state.

But you should know there is a terror that surpasses the mere presence of this unfathomable abomination. From within its molten form as its body squirms and contorts, the faces of tormented souls twist and writhe, their mouths open in eternal screams. The cacophony of their wailing fills the air, a relentlessly suffocating barrage of agony that pierces the mind. Their cries are a grotesque blend of sorrow and rage, each sound striking with the force of a war club. I clutch my head, trying to block out the noise. But it seeps into my very bones, driving me to the brink of madness. Around me, once-brave Ulxa warriors falter, their resolve crumbling. Eyes wide with terror, they drop their weapons and cover their ears. Some collapse to the ground, crippled by the overwhelming horror as sanity slips through our fingers like sand.

“What is… How…” We try to formulate words, but are left speechless at the horrific sight.

“What do we do?” Walumaq asks, her wavering voice barely above a whisper, eyes searching for an answer that seems beyond reach.

Tlexnín stares down the creature, nostrils flaring as a fiery rage burns inside of her. “We take the fight to this evil and eradicate them once and for all.”

The Ulxa warriors charge at the Eye in the Flame, spears and swords held aloft. Initially, the cultists are surprised by the sudden appearance of the enemy. But they shout something at the approaching warriors, something like a taunt, jeering and smirking.

The hands of the zealots begin to glow a fiery hue as flames form from the tips of their fingers. Radiating a white hot light, they thrust their arms forward, hurling balls of fire at our warriors. Though many are able to avoid being struck, a few are not so fortunate, igniting immediately upon impact. Their screams merge with those emitted by the molten, gnarled faces on the body of the serpent beast.

The ground beneath the remains of the sacred Ulxa temple splits open with a thunderous roar. Molten lava spews forth and illuminates the night with a frightful glow. The monster lunges forward. Its massive, blackened claws rip through the ranks of Ulxa warriors. Each swipe sends warriors flying, their armor and flesh shredded by the sheer force. The serpent-like tail whips around, smashing into the ground and causing tremors that topple the others who initially managed to stay on their feet. From the cracks within the body of the creature, lava seeps out from the wailing mouths, igniting everything it touches in a blaze of destruction.

“We need to help them!” Walumaq shouts, pointing toward the melee.

Paxilche clutches her shoulders and looks directly into her eyes. “We can do that by defeating this monster.”

“But what if the cultists’ ritual is the source of this creature’s power?” she questions. “Just like the fight before, if we can disrupt their ritual, we can—“

“Tlexnín and the Ulxa have already disrupted the ceremony,” he notes, pointing to the melee. “And the beast still exists. We are the only ones with capabilities that can stop it. That is how we can help.”

Walumaq does not look certain nor confident about the plan Paxilche has laid out. Her eyes dart over nervously at the fighting taking place between the Ulxa warriors and those of the Eye in the Flame. The furrow in her brow deepens, and she bites her lip as she contemplates the situation. Her hands tremble slightly as she grips the edge of her deep blue tunic, wrestling with the decision as to what we should do.

The creature does not wait for her choice. In its fury, the monster does not discriminate between friend and foe. Standing too close to the beast, one Eye in the Flame cultist is caught in the path of its sweeping claws. The scream of the cultist is swallowed by the roar of the flames as he is incinerated upon impact, his robes turning to ash in an instant. Another cultist attempts to direct the creature, only to be impaled by the spiked tail, his limp body thrown aside like a leaf in a storm.

The true horror reveals itself as the monster consumes a fallen Ulxa warrior. Its molten body envelopes the man with terrifying speed. The scream of the warrior is cut short as he is absorbed into the creature, his form dissolving into the searing heat. Almost immediately, the beast grows larger. The newly absorbed spirit adds its grotesque wails to the others trapped within the molten body. Unappeased, the horrific beast continues to consume the bodies of the dead, adding more and more to its freakish form.

Normally stalwart and unyielding, the Ulxa warriors falter and break under the relentless assault. The creature unleashes a breath of fire that sweeps across the battlefield. It incinerates scores of warriors and cultists alike, reducing the once-proud ranks to smoldering remains. The screams of the dying meld with the haunting wails of the tormented spirits within the creature, transforming the scene into frenzied disarray.

Our men and women rush toward the invaders, desperate to stop this assault on Analoixan. Atoyaqtli, Chiqama, and Pomacha pounce upon the unsuspecting cultists with lethal precision. Their blades slice through the air, cutting down any opposing enemy like clearing vines from a path. Tlexnín leads the Ulxa warriors and thrusts her spear forward, pointing the way.

To my right, Walumaq and Paxilche face the monstrous creature that has risen from the depths. Paxilche summons storm-infused winds that whip around him, stirring up dirt and debris. But the creature seems unaffected, its molten body absorbing the energy and somehow growing stronger. Feeling the effects from not having recovered entirely from his wounds, Pomaqli struggles to keep up, his spear barely scratching the surface of the beast. But close by, the sword of Naqispi strikes like a thunderclap, scattering pursuing enemies in his wake.

The ground shakes beneath me once again, the movement of the creature causes tremors that make it hard to stay upright. I see Walumaq raise her hands, summoning a barrier to shield us from a wave of molten lava. The heat is intense, singeing my skin even through the protective magic. I can barely breathe, as the air is thick with smoke and ash. The clash of battle surrounds me, and you should know that I feel a pang of helplessness. What can I do against such darkness and power?

Paxilche unleashes a torrent of cold winds, hoping to counter the fiery onslaught wrought by the creature. The winds collide with the beast, causing steam to hiss and billow. But it is not enough. The creature roars, a sound that reverberates through my body, and unleashes a stream of fire from its gaping maw. The water barrier created by Walumaq wavers under the assault. She trembles while gnashing her teeth, straining to hold it in place.

Atoyaqtli moves like the wind, his obsidian blade cleaving through the opposition with unerring speed. He ducks under a ball of fire hurled by a cultist, his swift reflexes saving him from a fiery demise. In one fluid motion, he then pivots on his heel and drives his blade into the chest of the cultist. The force of the blow sends his enemy crashing to the ground. Atoyaqtli pulls his blade free as the body of his foe sizzles upon hitting the hot stone floor.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Beside him, Chiqama is a whirlwind of destruction. He spins his twin daggers, deflecting a volley of fiery projectiles before closing the distance between him and his attacker. With a flick of his wrist, he sends one dagger flying, embedding it in the throat of a cultist. They gurgle and fall, but Chiqama is already on the move, retrieving his dagger and plunging it into the back of another cultist who dared to try attacking Atoyaqtli from behind.

The axe of Pomacha gleams in the firelight as he brings it down with a thunderous roar. The blade cleaves through the shoulder of a zealot, cutting deep into flesh and bone. He yanks the axe free and spins, the momentum carrying him into another swing that decapitates his next enemy. Despite the blood and carnage, Pomacha remains unbending, his fierce war cries echoing through the temple grounds.

Yet for every cultist the trio fell, two more take their place, their red robes and dark magic are an unending tide. You should know that I grow nervous at the sight. Though I once thought our numbers were sufficient, now I begin to fear we may not have enough to combat such an unrelenting enemy. Did we not prepare and rally enough support?

The voice of Naqispi cuts through the chaos, shouting orders and encouragement. He moves with purpose, his every action aimed at protecting us, at giving us a chance to survive. I see him glance my way, his eyes fierce. For a moment, I feel a spark of hope.

But the moment is fleeting, swallowed by the roar of the battle and the overwhelming presence of the lava beast. It rears up, a nightmarish figure of molten rock and fire. Without warning, it slams its clawed hands into the ground. A wave of lava surges forward, swallowing nearly a dozen hapless and unsuspecting Ulxa warriors in a heartbeat. Their screams pierce the air, cut short as the molten rock engulfs them.

I can only watch in horror as the lava flow incinerates everything in its path. Walumaq, Paxilche, Pomaqli, and Naqispi rush to meet the beast. Walumaq weaves her hands in intricate patterns, forming a new, shimmering barrier of water that deflects the worst of the fiery onslaught. Paxilche continues to deliver a barrage of icy cold winds to battle the heat of the creature. Clutching his side where blood seeps from his ribs, Pomaqli swings his weapon with desperate strength, though each blow barely dents the rocky hide of the creature. The attacks of Naqispi, too, glance off the hardened exterior of the beast.

The futile attacks only serve to enrage the beast. With an ear-shattering shriek, it twists its body, revealing the screaming faces within that spew a river of lava directly at us. Walumaq does her best to hold up her protective barrier, but she strains to fight against the incoming wave. Pomaqli and Naqispi hurry to her side for cover as they barely escape the scathing hot flow. Noch and I look helplessly at the steam lifting off of the barrier as the water gradually evaporates.

“It won’t… hold… for… much longer!” Walumaq warns through her clenched teeth. Lava begins dripping through the holes of her water barrier. Paxilche attempts to swirl a storm of rain to help add to the mass of the wall, yet the lava flow is too much, too overpowering.

She slowly begins backing away, hoping to escape the incoming wave of lava should the barrier fail completely. Pomaqli winces, looking up at the lava. “I refuse to leave you without getting you to safety,” he declares.

“Then we’ll need to run, and fast,” Walumaq says through a strained voice.

At her command, we run. She releases the barrier and turns around immediately. With the support of Pomaqli, they sprint away from the gigantic monster, eyes wide with panic. Noch flees as quickly as her legs will carry her. The creature ceases the spewing of lava, but it does not matter. The lava flow rushes toward us, no longer being held back from its destructive desires. The surge of lava rumbles the ground, the vibrations jostling us as we try to flee to safety.

My back sears from the intense heat of the flow behind me. Rocks and debris are caught in the wave, and that which does not burn from the touch of the lava is knocked aside from the impact. I search for a place of sanctuary, to rescue me from the incoming lava, but there is nothing except a sea of destroyed wooden homes standing like helpless victims awaiting their final destruction.

The eyes of Naqispi lock onto mine. “Run, Saqatli!” he shouts, his voice cutting through the rumbling chaos.

Without warning, Naqispi shoves me with all his might, hurling me out of the path of the lava. The scorching heat brushes past me. I hit the ground hard, pain jolting through my body. The heat sears my skin as I roll away. I scramble to my feet, heart pounding, and search for any indication as to what happened.

On the ground, the body of Walumaq lies still. “No!” The cry tears from my throat as I hurry over to her. Where is Naqispi? Where is Noch? Where is Pomaqli? My head swivels from side to side, desperately seeking my companions, yet no one else appears.

Something glimmering catches my attention, though it is not glowing embers or lava. Lying several paces away, a jade and onyx amulet rests on the ground. It must have been knocked loose from Walumaq in the chaos. It glows faintly against the charred ground. I have the inclination to look up, to which I see nearly a dozen members of the Eye in the Flame looming, watching. Their eyes widen as they notice the gemstone, and their chants grow louder, more urgent.

Without thinking, I run over and grab it. They are in pursuit of me, of the amulet. As I hold it in my hands, I feel a surge of energy pulse through me. There is something magical about this jewelry, something they must be eager to possess themselves. I cannot allow them to claim it.

I clutch the amulet in my hand, feeling its worn surface against my palm. With deliberate care, I tie a makeshift knot to rejoin the loose ends of the worn ornate necklace. Once secured, I place it over my head, feeling the weight of the amulet as it settles against my chest.

As I look up to gauge the pursuit of the cultists, my eyes are drawn back to the lava that had tried to consume me moments earlier. Caught in the center of the flow, Naqispi is almost engulfed. His lifeless body lies crumpled, half-buried in the cooling lava. His skin is charred and twisted grotesquely by the searing heat. Wisps of smoke rise from his remains, mingling with the acrid stench of burnt flesh. His once-vibrant eyes are now vacant, staring blankly up to the heavens.

You should know how the grief and rage twist inside me, a tempest of emotions that I cannot contain. My heart pounds in my chest, my vision blurs with hot tears, and I let out a guttural scream of anguish. The world around me narrows to a single point of unbearable pain, the sight of the final moments of Naqispi carved into my spirit.

A roar escapes my lips, but it is not mine. No, it is deeper, more primal. My vision blurs as the colors of the world bleed into each other. My body begins to transform. Fur ripples across my skin like a dye spreading in water, sleek and dark. Expanding muscles coil and tighten beneath the new layer of fur. A sharp pain courses through me as my bones crack and reshape, but the moment is fleeting as I feel my limbs elongate and shift.

I hit the ground on all fours, my newly formed paws sinking into the dirt and ash. The world sharpens into startling clarity—each blade of grass, each shift of shadow is now intensely vivid. My senses heighten. The scent of sweat and fear and blood floods my nostrils. My ears twitch as I pick up the frantic heartbeats around me. Strength surges through my now powerful frame. The energy of the amulet merges seamlessly with my own rage, pulsating a green hue to the quickening beat of my heart.

Driven by a furious need for vengeance, I spring at the nearest figure in red robes. My powerful hind legs hurl me forward with incredible speed. My razor-sharp and lethal claws slice through flesh and bone with ease, the resistance barely noticeable. The taste of warm blood ignites my fury further. Each strike is precise, fueled by the singular need to avenge Naqispi and Walumaq.

The cultists falter, their spells dying on their lips as they face my onslaught. I leap from foe to foe. One by one, I fell each enemy too slow to escape my rage. Two of the zealots extend their hands, glowing white hot as they form balls of fire from their fists. I do not give them a chance to use their powers against me. With impeccable speed, I reach them in a few strides, ripping them apart and making quick work of them.

A few of the members of the Eye in the Flame shout to the others, something of which I cannot understand. They point and run away from me, scurrying toward the remnants of the temple. There must be some matter of importance that causes them to think they will be safe if they reach the location. I cannot allow them to set foot upon their desired destination.

The thrill of the hunt courses through my veins. With a growl that rumbles through my chest, I bound after them, each leap covering vast distances. I am suddenly alerted to a series of shouting. I become nervous—are there more members of the Eye in the Flame pursuing me? But I soon realize Tlexnín and the warriors charge alongside me. Weapons at the ready, they call out to one another, following me to the temple. Their battle cries merge with my roars, and we hurry to chase down the enemy.

We reach the cultists just as they scramble up the steps of the temple. My claws dig into the stone, thrusting me forward. I pounce on the nearest one, my jaws closing around his throat with a satisfying crunch. I shake him off and turn to the next. My claws rake across his chest, leaving deep, bloody furrows. The Ulxa warriors hack and slash at the fleeing foes, giving them no opportunity to reach safety.

A hovering shadow stretches up the stone blocks and over the scene of battle. A scream from a cultist close by pierces the din, dragging my attention to the looming danger, but it is already too late. In my bloodlust, I fail to heed the signs of impending doom.

The creature approaches our location, quaking the ground with each of its thunderous steps. Flames erupt from the eyes of the creature, and smoke curls around its long snout. Molten rock drips from its gaping maw, sizzling as it hits the temple floor. Columns crumble and statues melt under the relentless assault of spewed lava flows. Its tail flings balls of fire into the air, illuminating the night with a hellish glow as they crash into warriors and zealots indiscriminately.

Desperation replaces the thrill of battle as I fight to maintain control. The pain and fear threaten to overwhelm me. I realize the grave mistake I have made as I glance at the creature and see its fiery eyes burning with malevolence. The wrath of the beast shows no signs of abating. We need to retreat and regroup.

Terror floods my veins as the searing heat scorches my fur and skin. I try to dodge, but the molten rock splashes violently around us, cutting off any hope of retreat. Warriors fall, screaming in agony as they are consumed by lava. Tlexnín shouts amidst the chaos, but her voice is lost amid the monstrous bellow and the cries of the wounded.

With a final, anguished roar, I force myself to turn and flee. I catch the eye of Tlexnín, and we begin our hasty retreat, weaving through the carnage. I focus on the rhythm of my breath, the pounding of my heart, pushing back the overwhelming urge to panic. The Ulxa warriors follow, some limping, others dragging the wounded.

We burst through a thicket of charred underbrush and stumble upon a clearing. Relief washes over me as I see familiar faces. Walumaq, Paxilche, Pomacha, Pomaqli, Chiqama, and Atoyaqtli are there. The Sanqo princess is heavily bruised and exhausted, but fights to stand upright. Meanwhile, Pomaqli clutches his ribs, blood seeping through his fingers. Pomaqli clutches his side, blood seeping through his fingers. Cuts and bruises mar the others, evidence of their own battles fought and won. Pomacha and Chiqama have taken defensive stances, ready to protect our position. But I do not see the turquoise tail of Noch. Where is my ocelot friend? A cold knot tightens in my chest at the absence of her presence.

As my pulse slows, I feel my body start to shift. My fur recedes, my limbs contort, and with a final, painful jolt, I collapse onto the ground in my human form. My breaths come in ragged gasps. The weight of the amulet is suddenly a heavy presence around my neck. The faces around me are of shock and horror, and though Tlexnín says something, but without Noch, I cannot understand the words that she, or anyone else, speaks. At least, for now, it appears to calm the others.

With a determined look, Paxilche begins to summon storm clouds, his hands waving through the air as if painting the sky with his will. The hairs on my arms stand on end as the air crackles with electrifying energy. His deep and resonant voice melds with the distant rumble of thunder as he conjures another torrential downpour. Walumaq stands beside him with unwavering focus. She raises her hands, palms open, and the rain responds to her call. It swirls into a chilling vortex that spirals toward the monstrous entity before us.

We move with haste, our footsteps synchronized, splashing through the quickly forming puddles. The creature looms ahead, its dark form a stark silhouette against the storm-laden sky. The rain fizzles against the heated ground and rises into thick clouds, creating a dense mist that obscuring our vision, but shrouds our advance.

As we close in on the creature, the temperature around us seems to drop, the air heavy with the scent of ozone and earth. Just as we get within striking distance, a shimmering barrier springs to life around the core of the beast, its surface rippling like water disturbed by a stone. The barrier absorbs the torrents of water Walumaq directs at it, glowing brighter, stronger with each passing beat of the heart. Our fierce and relentless attacks are repelled instantly, bouncing off the shield like arrows against rock. In fact, the barrier seems to feed on the energy, becoming more impenetrable with every strike.

I gasp, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. This is no ordinary barrier. It is adaptive, growing stronger with each assault. I glance at Walumaq, seeing the same dawning horror reflected in her eyes. The chanting of the cultists intensifies, their rising, sinister voices send a chill through my blood. The rhythmic cadence of their incantations seems to fuel the strength of the barrier. Are they enhancing the protection of the creature?

Paxilche raises his arms higher, drawing more energy from the storm. Lightning crackles in response to his summons, bolting across the blackened sky. Walumaq furrows her brow deeper as she directs a more focused stream of water at the barrier. But nothing seems to work, sparkling defiantly against our efforts.

The voice of Paxilche cuts through the chaos to shout a command. We fall back just outside the range of the monster, breaths ragged, hearts pounding. Tlexnín gestures urgently, indicating the need for a new plan. The ground beneath us rumbles, the chanting of the cultists growing louder, suggesting an even greater threat is looming. The barrier still stands, pulsing with renewed energy, as the core of the monster appears to be protected by a formidable shield that seems invincible. The cultists begin to regroup, chanting with renewed fervor.

I exchange a glance with Walumaq, seeing the same resolve mirrored in her eyes. The storm rages on around us, the rain mingling with sweat and blood. We will find a way to break the barrier and defeat the creature, or we will die trying.