I scurried about, nabbing another swirling marble of inky darkness, leaping over bits of rubble to snatch up two more. These little beastly baubles were hardly difficult to spot—my vision's vibrant hues practically shouted their whereabouts. Monster cores!

Before long, I’d gathered most of them. Twenty-six out of thirty-one, give or take. The rest? Well, either I’d lost them during all that chaos or... erm, possibly swallowed them in that ravenous frenzy. But no matter! This haul should do nicely.

I strolled over to Stephan, presenting him my spoils.

“What on earth are these?” Stephan squinted, trying to see through the murk.

“Monster cores, mate.” One of them was barely bigger than a pebble, but since Stephan had pockets (lucky chap), he could stash them away.

“Where… where did you find them?” he asked, looking rather puzzled.

“Oh, umm, just found them scattered about! I reckon when that monster on the ceiling chomped down those spiders, it spat these out. Must’ve not fancied them, eh?” A half-truth, of course—the “monster” was me, and those cores belonged to a bunch of rather unfortunate oversized rats.

Still, they’d fetch a good price, I was certain of it. Leaving them behind would’ve been criminal.

Oddly enough, Stephan’s spirits seemed to perk up a little. I hadn’t the faintest idea why or how I’d managed it, but at that moment, it just felt like the right thing to do. Did my rambling actually help? Who knows, but it was clear that something had lifted his mood, and that was enough. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. I’d have felt rotten if I’d just left him there like that.

We pressed onward, though I could tell Stephan was brimming with questions—chief among them, I’m sure, was my grand escape plan. Not that he’d dare ask, ofcourse; he’d bottled it all up, as usual. Honestly, this guy! But I decided to let him stew in silence. It was better that way. No point in spoiling the surprise—or worse, terrifying him with the truth. For now, I was just relieved he was still tagging along.

One thing, however, threatened to crack my ever-cool façade—every step Stephan took was accompanied by a wet, gut-churning squelch. I really, really didn’t want him knowing what it was.

“Erm… what in the name of all things decent is this… squishy stuff?” he finally asked. Drat! I could see him peering at the floor, squinting hard in the dim light. “Feels like I’ve just stepped into a soggy sponge.”

I winced. It was almost bizarre how I could see everything with perfect clarity, while Stephan was practically blind in here. Well, almost. I knew he could see a bit, but it was all gloom for him. Underneath his boots? Globs of rat anatomy. Hmm, kidney or liver, I couldn’t tell from here. Oh well.

“Ah, that…” I said, hurriedly throwing my wings out, stepping in front of him like a shield, attempting to block the carnage from view. Though, in hindsight, probably unnecessary, seeing as it was everywhere. “Nothing to worry about. Just, uh... sticky spider webs! Nasty, clingy stuff, y’know? You can’t walk ten feet without stepping in it. No big deal, it’ll come off eventually. Keep moving.”

I cringed the moment those words left my mouth. Brilliant, Jade. Could’ve just said they were spider organs left behind by that creeper—at least that would’ve kept my story consistent! My brain was all over the place.

“Spider webs?” Stephan raised an eyebrow, gingerly lifting his boot and pressing it back down into the squishy… kidney? Liver? Oh, who knows at this point. “This doesn’t feel like webs, Jade. More like… I don’t know, a bag of mashed potatoes exploded under my foot.”

I let out an awkward chuckle, flapping my wings dramatically. “Trust me, it’s webs. The worst kind! Super sticky. Probably picked up all sorts of rubbish from those nasty spiders.”

Stephan didn’t look convinced. He squinted again and lifted his hand, probably about to summon some mana and light things up. I cut in immediately.

“Whoa, no! Don’t do that. I can see perfectly in the dark, and light might attract something unpleasant. Or worse, make something angry.”

Stephan shrugged. “Alright, as long as it’s not something alive…”

“Oh no, definitely not alive,” I blurted, far too quickly. Dead. Totally dead. In my tummy, actually.

He nodded. “Right. Well, let’s just keep moving. I’ve had quite enough of stepping in whatever this is.”

I wasn’t exactly in the mood for explanations either. Anything that made me seem more monstrous than I already was, well, best kept under wraps. So, we quickened our pace, squelching through the muck with as much dignity as one could muster. At last, we reached the entrance to our hideout, and without so much as a cautious peek outside, I stepped forward. Barn was with me, after all.

Right then, the plan was as clear as day: have Barn whip up a fresh tunnel with his nifty disintegration shield, effectively giving us a cheeky little side door to the outside world. Once we popped out the other end, we’d be golden. The only snag was deciding where to plonk this new exit—somewhere discreet, away from nosy parkers. Slipping away unnoticed, not a crumb left behind. Of course, going back and staying up wasn’t in the cards for me; not anymore. Far too dangerous. I’d be returning back here.

But, I knew just the spot for this secret escape.

Soon enough, I was in a familiar part of the tunnel. The walls around me shimmered from the hues, apart from one suspiciously shadowy bit. Smooth, circular, and just about wide enough for me and Stephan, though, umm, he’d be squeezing through like a cork in a bottle. But, not that he’d be needing any maneuvering.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

As his feet left the ground, a look of utter gobsmacked confusion painted his face. He floated beside me, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights.

"Don’t fight it," I quipped, trying to keep things casual. Not that he could do much about it. Most people lose their marbles when they’re suddenly bobbing about in the air, brains aren’t wired for this sort of caper. But, I still said it, perhaps to calm him.

And just like that—whoosh—we were face-first into what looked like solid rock. I went in first, couldn’t see Stephan’s expression, but judging by his stunned silence as he followed, it was a proper jaw-dropper.

Inside, everything was just as I’d remembered—walls’ smooth bark like surface, with glowing lines of sap snaking along them like veins. The only new feature was a gaping great hole that popped up as soon as we barged in.

Glancing back, I saw the illusion still held firm, hiding the breach in the stone. The hues remained unchanged, which confirmed my suspicion: the enchantment wasn’t directly tied to the material itself but was a more independent magic—something I had only guessed at, but now seemed certain of.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on it. We began to rise again, Barn’s disintegration shield carving through the rock effortlessly as we ascended. It wasn’t violent or explosive; the stone simply vanished, like dust swept into nothingness. Each layer dissolved in silence, leaving no trace behind, no debris, just a clean void stretching upward as we floated higher, the path behind us erased.

We continued our ascent. The tunnel wasn’t exactly roomy—just enough for us to shimmy through—but I stayed close to Stephan. Couldn’t miss the disbelief radiating off him; he was practically vibrating with it. At one point, I caught him glancing down. Bad move, that. He snapped his head back up so fast, I nearly laughed. Maybe it was the sight of endless blackness below, or perhaps the sheer horror of seeing... well, nothing at all. Either way, it rattled him good.

Then, just as I was starting to wonder how much higher we had to go, a crack of light pierced the darkness above. A tiny glimmer at first, but it gradually grew, spilling silver beams down on us as the ceiling above cracked open. Soon enough, we were floating up into the night.

And there we were—in a forest, of all places. Tall, skeletal trees loomed overhead, their branches all twisted and tangled together like some massive, knobbly web. Not exactly the most welcoming sight. I’d told Barn not to plop us anywhere near that fortress, but he didn’t exactly get a specific brief, so here we were, in the middle of trees I didn’t recognize.

The trees’ branches were a right mess, forming a thick lattice that blocked most of the sky. Except for this one blessed opening, where no tree dared to stand. No branchy nonsense blocking the way, just a large, clear space letting in slivers of moonlight. And for the first time in what felt like ages, I bathed in that light. Proper, natural light.

Instinct took over. I closed my eyes and let the world come to me through everything else. The damp earth and moss filled my nose, grounding me. A faint rustle reached my ears—something more than just the wind. I focused in on it. It was close. Too close.

Right… behind me.

My neck snapped back, nearly giving poor Stephan a heart attack. The instant my gaze landed on the source, a low snarl ripped through the air. My heart kicked into high gear.

Another thing that jarred me was the absence of hues above. I'd gotten so used to them lighting up everything around me, giving clarity in the darkest corners. Without them, the shadows felt wrong somehow—unnatural, like they didn’t belong here. And from those unnatural shadows, two glowing eyes gleamed—slitted, furious.

A panther-like beast slunk from the treeline. Silent. Menacing. Its fur was sleek and black, glistening in the moonlight as it prowled forward. The muscles rippled beneath its coat, and I had no doubt it packed a serious punch. Then there were the teeth—curved like scythes, poking out of its mouth in a rather unpleasant way. But its eyes—oh, those eyes—still glowed that sickly yellow, and they were locked onto me.

A part of me relished the moment. Ahh, a challenger. So much raw confidence, but something was off about its movement. A limp? A hesitation? Before I could fully dissect it, the beast crouched low, muscles tensing like a coiled spring. Quick Dash. I recognized the skill immediately.

Before I could even blink, let alone shout a warning to the creature—to tell it to wait, to hold off—this wasn’t a proper challenge! It’d die before even touching me! It vanished from where it stood.

And then, it was upon us.

Its claws, razor-sharp and retracted like gleaming daggers, aimed straight for my throat. Yet... yet.

The moment they touched Barn’s shield, the first claw disintegrated—instantaneous, like ash caught in a sudden gust. Gone.

The panther-beast didn’t even have time to process its fate. Its entire paw followed next, vanishing from the tips inward. A ripple spread up its leg, erasing muscle, fur, and bone in the blink of an eye. The howl that followed was something primal, raw, visceral, yet short, as the creature couldn’t halt its momentum.

It slammed into the invisible barrier. Every part of its body that made contact simply ceased to exist. The limb, the shoulder, the chest, all vanished. Dissolving mid-motion.

In the blink of an eye, the beast was no more. Its hulking mass disintegrated, bit by bit, until all that lingered was a faint memory of where it once loomed. And then, just like that, silence returned to the world.

Barn gently set us down, though… umm… both Stephan and I had expressions that could only be described as utterly flabbergasted.

Uhh..

“Aaaaand, we’re out! Blimey, that was a close one!” I flapped my wings without thinking, wriggling about like an overexcited duckling.

Stephan blinked, twice, slow and deliberate. “Yeah, umm... not sure I even want to know how you pulled that off.”

“Oh, that? Yeah, that was my guardian doing his thing. And you’re probably right — best not to ask.”

He just stood there for a bit, eyes closed, letting the moonlight bathe his face for a moment.

“Still… don’t care how you did it, but I’m grateful. Truly. Thanks for saving me.”

“Well, you saved mine too! Well, I saved yours first, then you saved mine, and now I’ve done it again! So, by my reckoning, you owe me one now!” I grinned.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You know, you almost sounded like a different person back there…”

I did feel different. There was this fog in my brain, creeping back in, but for that one moment, everything had felt crystal clear. It was... something.

“So… what’s next?” He glanced around, clearly spooked by the forest. Not that I blamed him — that monster did jump on us the second we poked our heads out.

“Don’t worry, the guardian’ll see you off to the nearest safe spot. Somewhere near the start of the Beastlands, I reckon. Just guide him a bit.”

“And you?” His eyes narrowed, curious.

Ah yes, my life. “What about me? Don’t think I’ll be returning to civilization any time soon, for umm, obvious reasons.”

He hesitated. “I mean, I could say you’re my magical beast, all tamed and everything. You could come with me. I owe you my life, after all. Maybe we could figure out how to undo this mess together?”

Ah, if only it were that simple. “Nah, don’t fret. I’ve already got a way to undo it all.” Not that I was in any rush. The idea of a human body again? Ugh, how dreadfully dull! “For now, I need to stay here. Maybe one day, when I’m back to my former human glory, I’ll pop by for a visit—you and your sister won’t be able to get rid of me.”

He smiled, and I swear something stirred deep inside of me at the sight of it. “Bloodtide Sect,” he said softly. “That’s where you’ll find us. Ask about the Rakiran Steppes; my village, Carthak Ridge, moves through there. We’ll be waiting for you.”

Ah, hang on. That reminded me. “So... who’s this Princess Vernia you kept mistaking me for?”