I ran my hand along the jagged ledge of the half-collapsed plaza, feeling flakes of old stone crumble beneath my fingertips.
Three days had passed since Bartholomew vanished, and one day had passed since Al followed after him, taking all the beetles along for some sort of scouting or rescue. Today was almost over. Needless to say, I was nervous about what was happening below us in the Academy.
—Why was there no word? I wondered. Did the Cinders return yet? Did a Guardian come by and attack?
“We haven’t seen a new miner in three days. Both Captain Bartholomew and Sergeant Al still haven’t returned. I’m worried,” I muttered to Waelid, who sat nearby atop a broken marble pillar, preparing for what he had to do tonight. He was trying to focus on his own but I needed to talk to someone.
He flicked a pebble across the ground. “It’s obvious something’s happening. But Major won't let us go yet…if I could just reach the third level of the infusion we could leave.” He chucked another pebble.
“It’s not that, Major Philip wants the floor boss dealt with first.”
“Yeah, which won't happen until I form that contract. Explain it again what happened with you and that kid inside you?”
“It’s hard to explain, we found it inside a pretty traumatic memory of his. And we then fought it. Eventually, it gave up and it bowed its head. At that moment I knew it accepted me as the house of its soul. I’m unsure if ‘contract’ is the right term for it. It’s more like becoming one with their soul. I don’t know how else to explain it. You just…sort of know when it happens. You’ll probably have to find it in a painful memory. Do you have one that you’ve been avoiding?”
“I have too many I avoid…” He whispered.
Waelid hopped down from the pillar.
“Speaking of the floor boss, it reminds me of these games I used to play as a kid. You couldn’t leave the level until you killed the boss. Otherwise, everything would reset. That’s how Major Philip explained it. Letting that floor boss live any longer might just reset the entire horde of ghosts in this place. We’d have to fight them all over again. It sucks but we can’t leave after Bartholomew and Al until we finish up here.”
He stretched, rolling his shoulders. Ever since we discovered that clearing the floors was a monthly time-sensitive mission, he’d latched onto it like it was a challenge he needed to dominate.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Thankfully we moved fast. Just need to take it out now. If I can transform.”
I shook my head. “Don’t try too hard tonight, just let yourself slip. Keep your mind active but let the body sleep. I’m sure you can do it.” I couldn’t believe I was here trying to encourage him. He was my nemesis…right?
He never explicitly showed hatred towards me. He's rude and competitive with me, but during our missions out in the city we worked together well to take down the spirits.
“I just hope,” Waelid said quietly, “that nothing’s happened to Al or Bartholomew. That’s all.”
A heavy thud of footsteps broke the silence. Major Philip, approached us from behind. He glanced between me and Waelid, his deep-set eyes showing a touch of impatience. His mustache twitched before he spoke.
“Enough chatter boy,” he said with a loud, gruff, sigh. “If we want to rescue our people, we have to get rid of this floor boss first. She’s the key to clearing the city of ghosts—until the next reset.”
Waelid saluted with the back of his hand across his forehead. “Yes, sir. I’m ready.”
Major Philip’s gaze flicked over to me. “Erik, you stay back with Laska, can you go grab the incense from the packs?”
“Aye!” I saluted as well and ran off to grab the supplies. Tonight we were going to through as much stimulus at Waelid to force him into a trance. Double the brew, double the needles, double the incense. Double everything according to the Major. A small clock chime that one of the miners brought from Ash went off. It was 11 pm. Time to start the ceremony.
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Waelid knelt on a small cushioned carpet, shirtless, in front of a large fire in the middle of the courtyard.
The air smelled of incense and some kind of pungent brew, and I watched as Laska and the Major prick his skin with dozens of small needles around his shoulders and up along his spine. A circle of miners hovered a safe distance away, while others held various sound bowls ready for the Major’s signal.
The major stood back and talked in a low voice to Waelid.
“Remember your training. Envision the feeling you will have when you have fused perfectly with the Phoenix. It no longer saps your stamina, and you have full control and knowledge of the skills it possesses. Take longer breaths out than you breathe in.” He raised his hand and nine miners sat down equal distance in a circle around Waelid. They held their bowls and a small glass stick ready to rub against the top of the bowls. The major waved his hand and the sound from the bowls filled the plaza. Waelid closed his eyes and the incense burned.
Later, Laska crept up beside me, rubbing her wrists. She had switched with one of the bowl players and made noise with a bowl for well over half an hour.
“He’s been at this for hours,” she said under her breath. “You think he can break through tonight?”
I glanced over at Major Philip, who was overseeing the ritual. He gave a curt nod to more miners who came around the circle, and they began chanting softly.
“He has to,” I said. “If he can’t step up, we’re going into that cathedral down a key fighter.”
Laska nodded her head and sat down. We all focused on Waelid. Major Philip mentioned that collectively if we all focused our intention on Waelid as he tried to enter that trance-like state, we could help him open the door with our energy.
It all sounded like woo-woo talk from the astrology lovers back on earth, but I had seen it happen to me when I entered my mind.
Somehow, in this world, my focus and concentration could be used to effects I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand or be able to explain. For the time being, I was too focused on mastering my new infusion form instead of worrying about the meditations.
—‘He’ll manage,’ Fern said. ‘He hates the thought of being behind you, especially.’
I cracked a smile. Fern wasn’t wrong; Waelid’s pride drove him. Before I had arrived he had been the “chosen one”. He would never allow himself to lag if he could help it.
This meditation went on for hours until we saw Waelid start to shake harder. His eyes moved and vibrated. After several minutes, the air around us became hot and humid.
CRACK….WOOSH
A series of bright, crackling sparks danced across the ground where Waelid sat. His eyes were still closed. The circle around him lit up in a ghostly orange. My hair stood on end.
Major Philip barked, “Everyone, back up!”
I shifted a few steps away, jerking Laska back with me. Waelid’s body began trembling, and his breathing grew ragged. One by one, the acupuncture needles popped free from his skin, clattering onto the stone. The chanting from the attendants reached a fever pitch.
“More, more!” The Major yelled to the bowl players.
Then, Waelid’s body morphed. He floated up in the air as if he was being pulled by puppet strings. His limbs elongated, and feathers grew along his arms and legs. On his head, a white covering with the symbol of a phoenix appeared. The harpy mask that always formed when he transformed this past month appeared, covering half his face. He cried out, and the mask seemed to splinter like cracked porcelain. Beneath it, instead of raw flesh, I saw dark feathers with streaks of gold. His eyes gleamed pitch-black, with vivid yellow irises dancing like twin suns.
If I was being honest, at first glance he looked like an Egyptian mythological god mixed with a phoenix.
“There you are,” Major Philip said clapping his hand. I could almost see the wave of relief wash over him. “You’ve made the contract.”
Waelid’s chest jerked forward. From just above his sternum, the hilt of the small dagger forced itself out, dripping with a strange black liquid. The moment it cleared his body, the wound sealed itself.
Waelid let out a triumphant scream. His wings unfurled behind him they were made up of almost entirely flames. His whole posture changed, too. The cocky lift of his chin was now lowered to stand straight and tall, neither prideful nor pitiful. It was…regal.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
My face was dripping with sweat from the heat of his fire. His form looked powerful though, and I finally felt a sense of strength in the Cinders as a whole. With powers like this, we should be able to take down the mages right? I should be strong enough to get to my brother.
I looked at Waelid’s new form. I remembered how much I hated him, but every day we fought out in the ruins, that hate lessened as I depended on him as a comrade. I felt conflicted and shook my head at the thoughts.
—I just need to work with him for now, he isn’t a friend, and he will have his judgment when we duel after all of this.
—‘Right!’ Fern said enthusiastically. ‘And now we know what his form is. I think ours can easily beat him. We have all these weapons and our two heads.’
I nodded to myself and Fern.
Waelid lowered himself to the ground and flexed his fiery wings. “So… this is the difference in power from stage two to stage three,” he said, voice clicking as his beak opened and closed. “Finally, I can match you, Erik.”
He turned to Major Philip, who gave a slow, approving nod. “You’ve reached your third level,” the Major said. “Proud of you. But don’t let it go to your head, you can still die. There are levels beyond this but the difference between level three and level four is double the strength and growth it took you from learning to walk to where you are right now.”
Waelid frowned. “You’re kidding.”
Major shrugged his shoulders.
Despite that, I almost laughed. Laska let out a little cheer, clapping her hands.
“Nice job recruit! You’ll show 'em hell out there I’m certain.”
Even the surrounding miners couldn’t help but let a few whoops of excitement slip out. It felt good to see some joy around here, after all the grim fighting and worrying about what was going on below us.
Major Philip cleared his throat. “Alright, that’s enough celebration for now. We’ve got a floor boss to kill—and then, we will go straight down to the Academy and figure out just what the hell is going on?!”
Waelid’s eyes still blazed. He bent down and grabbed his scimitar from the ground. In his enlarged hands it looked more like a long knife. He twirled it in his fingers once. “Let’s go,” he said. “I’m more than ready to show the creature who’s the floor boss.”
A fire lit inside of me as Waelid transformed back to his human form. We were all much stronger than before. In a short two months, I had accelerated my growth from being almost helpless in the back of Laska’s carriage to being on an almost equal level with her. Waelid, equally as strong had the heart and passion inside him of a main character, and the Major was a bulwark of a man. I felt like we were unstoppable.
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When we reached the cathedral’s entrance, I wasn’t sure what to expect.
But it was two things. 1. The cathedral was massive. It stood ten times taller than any of the other buildings around it. 2. It looked like the very definition of a scary dark fantasy Gothic boss fight arena.
The massive doors hung crooked on ruined hinges, and the carved stone archway was thick with layers of spider silk. Even from outside, I felt a cold breeze swirl through the interior, carrying a damp, rotten smell that made my stomach lurch.
I paused just long enough to take in the sight of shattered stained-glass windows high above. Jagged shards clung to their frames, reflecting the glow of the purple and teal crystals. The air was dry and smelled like lit charcoal.
Major Philip stood at the front, his broad figure filling the center of the doorway. “Stay close,” he said, his voice echoing off the old stone walls. “I don’t want anyone wandering off. This entire structure might be rigged with illusions.”
Laska nodded and drew her sword, glancing at me. We were all still in our human form.
The four of us stepped inside together. The floor was littered with debris—broken pews, splinters, collapsed columns that had rotted from centuries of neglect. Every step kicked up clouds of dust that danced in the faint light.
—‘Something’s watching us,’ Fern hissed in my mind. ‘I can smell it.’
—You can smell it? How can you smell someone watching? I said laughing quietly to myself to calm down.
—‘You know what I mean,’ Fern said annoyed.
I did hear something. A soft clicking echoed across all the walls, like fingernails tapping on stone. Waelid craned his head upward, searching for the source. But the noise disappeared.
Major Philip led us down the central aisle, his eyes scanning left and right. The middle of the cathedral was still at least four hundred yards away.
“So who are we fighting? Is it the lady who the three Lichguards fell in love with?” I asked as we pushed ahead over broken benches and turned over candle sticks.
Major shook his head. “This floor boss—Exalted Princess Qwenburg, Liaison of Silk—was once revered in the old empire. They say she served the kingdom above as a direct envoy. But her purpose was never benevolent. She was directly responsible for the spread of disease, plague, and famine across Dust, all in the name of conquest. In the end, she killed the woman the three brothers loved. She spread disease throughout the city and was the last being alive in Dust after her killing. And why? All for the name of the kingdom above…apparently.”
He paused to peer down a dark side passage, webs glistening in the gloom. “Centuries ago, after she served to the kingdom above, she was given a soul extension but it tethered her to this floor. She was forever tied to the graveyard she filled with her own hands. Even after her physical death, her spirit stayed anchored here. Over time her sself-hatemorphed her into a sort of spider, demon-like thing. She looks as if a blood infusion went wrong and one lost their mind and body to the beast instead. She spawns these spider abominations so look out for them. If we let her remain any longer, she’ll start reviving the ghosts.”
A flash of movement to our right made us all whip around. I just caught the end of a swirling shape disappearing behind a cluster of collapsed arches. The clicking of dozens of legs against stone and wood, grew louder, accompanied by dry rustling movement, behind all the fallen pews.
“We put her down now,” Major Philip continued, “or we risk delaying the cinders march on the fourth floor. We must seize our opportunity now.”
The floor suddenly shuddered. From the overhead balconies—where bits of broken banisters clung precariously—hundreds of small spiders started crawling down long, silk threads. They ranged in size from my hand to my torso, each with unnervingly bulbous abdomens and spindly, prickly legs.
Major Philip shot us a look, his eyes stealing. “Erik, Waelid, Laska—you handle these. Keep them off me while I try to draw Qwenburg out directly.”
“Got it,” I said. Laska nodded, flipping her sword in a practiced motion, and Waelid grinned as though he’d been waiting for this all morning. I closed my eyes and reached inside myself for the Chimera. My transformation was smoother now than it had been in the early days: my arms grew sinuous scales, and a mane of beastly fur pricked along my neck. My limbs lengthened, muscles quadrupled, claws grew, wings sprouted, a tail with a snake head slithered around to my should and Fern’s voice came from it.
“Time to show you my little trick.” Fern’s goat-horned snake head was about the size of a rugby ball. He opened his mouth and slowly a glowing black blade slid out his mouth until he bit down on the hilt as the sword was unsheathed. “Eh? What do you think?” He said with the sword in his mouth.
I looked at him with awe, my own transformed body, imposing like a lion was dumbstruck by what I had just seen. Fern…vomited out the cursed sword and is now using it in his mouth?
“I won't lie, that looks insane, but also incredibly badass. I’m all for it. You get my blind spots.” I said.
“That’s the plan,” He hissed.
The smaller spiders dropped in droves, clicking and hissing. We all sprang into action. Laska transformed next as she ran. He legs grew longer, her muscles tightened and veins popped along her body. His skin turned white as snow and two round soft ears grew on her head. The ground beneath her turned into small patches of ice as two tails grew from the base of her spine. A small horn grew out from the top of her head. She looked more feline than anything. Like a leopard with a horn. White glistening crystals shimmered over her body, fur sprouting around her arms and legs, her eyes turning an icy blue. She charged, slicing through the first wave of spiders with fluid precision. Her sword danced through each enemy and her claws caught what she missed. Every slash coated their legs with frost, and more than one shattered at her feet.
Waelid let out a triumphant cry and blazed to life in his phoenix form. Flames licked around his wings, each wing beat sending gusts of superheated air that scorched anything in range. He tore into the horde, talons flashing bright as he ripped spiders from the walls.
I whirled, feeling the chimera’s surge course through me.
We launched ourselves into the fray, slicing and clawing at every skittering shape. With each blow, my heartbeat thundered in my ears, adrenaline drowning out the eerie chanting. A few spiders managed to leap at me, mandibles clicking, but Fern reacted quickly and snaked past me fast as lightning and cut them down with ease with the sword in his mouth.
From somewhere deeper in the cathedral, a shrill screech tore through the air. I finished clawing down three more spiders when I looked up and glimpsed a floating silhouette at the far end of the cathedral-like a spider the size of a carriage but with the upper torso of a woman perched atop its body. Her face was twisted, veins pulsing around multi-faceted eyes. She wore the tattered remains of a regal gown, and strands of cobwebs clung to her arms.
“Qwenburg,” Major Philip growled. “Stay focused!”
He roared, and in seconds, his human form stretched and warped into something massive: an elephant-like head, a body coiled like a serpent’s trunk, and two mammoth fists slamming onto the cathedral floor. The Grootslang roar that I had run from in fear when I journeyed here echoed through my body again.
Qwenburg hissed and sprang forward with startling speed, her long spider legs clacking against the marble. Major Philip met her head-on, trunk swinging wide. The impact thundered through the cathedral, sending shards of web-covered debris everywhere.
I turned back to my fight, but a new wave of spiders was funneling in behind Qwenburg’s body.
“Waelid! Erik! We need to clear these out so the Major can focus!” Laska shouted.
“Roger that!” I replied.
Laska vaulted over a fallen column, landing in a crouch. She channeled her ice powers, sending a freezing blast that slicked the ground under the swarm. Waelid swooped by overhead, launching a column of flame that incinerated any spider unlucky enough to be caught in between. I swung my claws at a group of spiders in front of me and tore through them with ease. Behind me, Fern was whipping around as the snakehead tail. He cut down spider after spider with the sword in his mouth. It no longer screamed instead I heard a low humming from it.
At that moment, Qwenburg’s shriek rattled the walls. She lashed out with one of her spindly forelegs, aiming for Major Philip’s midsection. He parried with a gargantuan fist, but a second leg lunged forward, stabbing him in the shoulder. Major Philip howled in pain, trunk flailing.
“Enough!” I roared, leaping onto the side of a toppled pillar and springing forward, Fern’s blade outstretched. I hopped over another group of spiders and fell onto the Spider-princess. I sliced my claws deep into one of Qwenburg’s legs. She hissed, rearing back.
She was as tall as the Major was, she stood well above thirty feet. The woman’s torso that grew out of her body was limp, pale, and had no hair. Instead, the unsettling naked body was covered in odd thick tattoos.
Suddenly, the body straightened and she looked upward, spotting Waelid in mid-flight, she launched herself up there avoiding an attack from the Major.
Waelid had just finished torching a cluster of spiders when her barbed forelimb speared him clean through the chest. My heart froze. Stunned as his body was pierced by several other legs.
“Shit!” Fern cried out.
Qwenburg threw Waelid’s body to the ground and with a loud thud his body broke through a wooden table.
I felt panic rise within Fern.
“Don’t worry, don’t you know the thing phoenixes are known for? Rebirth.”
Before I could say another word, a pillar of golden-red flame erupted around Waelid’s limp body. Phoenix fire—an instant rebirth. The flames seared Qwenburg’s leg high above and forced her to withdraw out of the way. Waelid sprang to life again, fury in his glowing eyes. With a savage screech, he soared high into the air. He reached out and grabbed a spider limb of Qwenburg’s and twisted, hurling the giant spider monster down to the floor of the Cathedral.
Laska seized the opportunity, focusing her ice powers on Qwenburg’s lower half. Thick frost erupted over the abomination’s legs, pinning her to the floor as she writhed and spat.
“Erik, help me bring these columns down!” Major Philip called. He braced his massive Grootslang form against one of the cathedral’s support pillars. I understood immediately. Tearing the place down on top of Qwenburg might be our best chance to hit her with a heavy attack.
I whipped around and threw my weight against another pillar. The old stone buckled, groaning ominously, then collapsed. The entire roof above Qwenburg caved in, an avalanche of beams and rubble crashing onto her. Her scream warped into a muffled hiss, and then there was silence.
“Stand clear!” Major Philip ordered. We all staggered back, dust swirling around. For a moment, I expected Qwenburg to burst out again. But the rubble remained still, broken webs drifting in the air. Then a cloud of heavy green mist filled the cathedral. Her body was killed and her soul was severed until the next tower reset.
Waelid, panting hard, floated down beside me. Laska sank to one knee, letting her leopard features recede. His clothes were torn but she quickly put on a heavy coat. The Major’s Grootslang form began to shrink back to a human shape and he stood there silently, shirtless with his hands on his hips. Then, he laughed.
“Excellent work my friends! You all graduate Major Philip’s specialized training class!”
I released my form and breathed a sigh. “That was a lot…did I mention I hate spiders?”
Laska laughed, “Too bad young Tevin isn’t here, he might have tried to make friends with the Spider-princess.”
I gave a small chuckle as I sat down feeling some exhaustion hit me.
Waelid reverted to his normal form last. He dropped to a knee and steadied himself with a hand on the dusty floor. “That rebirth was something else…I….don’t think I’ll be able to do that again for a while.” He clutched his stomach and sat down. For a moment, none of us spoke. We just breathed and let the reality of our victory sink in.
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It took us longer to get back to our makeshift camp near the plaza, but the relief washing over me when I spotted the familiar lanterns was beyond words. The plan was to rest for the night and then in the morning, we four will head down to find out what is going on in the Academy below.
Laska trudged beside me, half-covered in dust, while Waelid rubbed at the dried blood on his chest—thankfully, none of it his own anymore. Major Philip marched a few paces ahead, silent and focused.
A handful of miners rushed forward the moment we stepped onto the camp’s worn cobblestones. They looked both anxious and relieved, their faces painted in the flickering firelight. One of them—a young man named Olin—ran straight to the Major, breathing hard.
“Sir,” Olin blurted, “we found something… or rather, it found us.”
Major Philip’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”
Wordlessly, Olin held out his cupped hands. Nestled there was a beetle the size of a grapefruit—one of the smaller ones that had gone with Al. Its carapace was smeared with dark crimson, and a single word was written across it in shaky letters.
“Mageblood,” Laska read softly, leaning in to see. She paled. Waelid swore under his breath and the Major stood there with his arms crossed.
I reached out, gingerly taking the beetle from Olin. It chittered weakly, almost as if trying to convey a message.
—‘That’s blood, Erik,’ Fern’s voice whispered inside my mind. ‘Human blood.’
Major Philip’s fists tightened. “So they’ve broken through,” he said, each syllable dripping with quiet fury. “The Magebloods are inside the academy.”
Nobody spoke for a moment. The air felt heavier than it had in the cathedra as if this single beetle carried worse news than any spider queen could.