The hot ground felt burning against my skin as I crossed the desert. As the rocks under my feet changed to pebbles, then sand, the color of the surface also shifted, from the reds to oranges, and finally dull yellows. Some winged creatures flew above me, but none of them looked like a succubus. The occasional heaps of debris have increased in frequency, soon turning into a carpet of mangled trash, littering the ground and getting in my way. Gusts of violent wind soon became a constant storm-like stream, always kicking up dust and scraping it against my skin. It was difficult to breathe at times, but I covered my mouth and pressed on, body regenerating after each scratch and every sharp object I painfully stepped on. Over the dust devils, way in the distance, I could still see the moon. Using it as my only heading, I realized it was waxing and waning every few minutes or so. Or perhaps it wasn't a few minutes? Without any reference point, distance and time became unreal quantities. I began to wonder if perhaps my punishment was exactly this—to wander this desert forever like a mindless beast. The sandstorm reached its peak, forcing me to close my eyes and plow ahead with nothing but blind faith in my direction. Then, at once, the winds seemed to calm down, letting me open my eyes—and I saw.

In front of me, no further than a couple hundred meters, stood a gigantic palace, with a richly-ornamented black facade, peppered with golden insets and reliefs. The front door appeared large enough to fit a shed through, and when I approached it, a low rumble sounded all around me, and the wings swung slowly towards me, sweeping the sand away.

Finally, out of the desert, I found a small sense of relief—the interior was cool and dimly lit by some overhead light streaming from hidden ceiling windows, which might as well have been a hundred meters up. I leaned on the wall, and it felt like smooth marble. My throat was killing me—the journey here meant what felt like tons of sand got into my mouth and nose. I tried blowing it, but only made a pathetic, dry hiss. I couldn't even salivate anymore.

"Greetings, traveler," a female voice came from no further than a dozen paces away from me, startling me and causing me to stand up back at full attention, ready to run. I noticed small light, like a candle, swaying around in the darkness.

"Has your journey been safe? You must be thirsty," it sounded welcoming and pleasant, slightly tempting even, which only made my anxiety worse.

I saw a figure emerging from the dark. It looked like an extraordinarily tall woman, with close to grotesque body proportions. She must have measured almost twice as much as me, her hips—clad in some thin skirt that barely reached past the buttocks—were significantly wider than my shoulders, and I had to pause to make sense of the upper half of her body.

"I... I am Matt," I said, straining my eyes to make sure I was seeing right.

"Yes, you are," she replied.

Once she got close enough, I saw that her head resembled that of a hammerhead shark—widened beyond her shoulders at the top and covered in some sleek, dark gray skin that reflected the glimmers of the little lamp she carried in her left hand, suspended from her index finger. Her lips were dark red and very full, but she didn't seem to have a nose, nor could I tell where her eyes were. The sight was so bizarre, I barely even noticed the size of her breasts.

"You... know why I'm here...?" I asked.

"I do... Can I interest you in something to drink?" when she spoke, I noticed her mouth had more than one set of teeth, all looking menacingly spiky.

"Yes, please, I'm dying of thirst," I said. It was true, I had never felt like I needed a glass of water as much— but even if it weren't, I wouldn't want to offend her.

"Come this way," she gestured with a slight smile and turned away from me.

I followed, stepping besides her in the dark.

"My name is Eshtehar," she said, and her voice echoed in the large hallway. "I am the head caretaker of this place, and I will be glad to be at your service."

She sounded almost playful.

"You have a lot... to take care of..." I mused as I noticed the decorations on the walls. My eyes have adjusted enough to see we passed stretch after stretch of carvings and glyphs, lining the walls on both sides from ground level, and seemed to continue all the way to the ceiling.

We reached another set of doors, and the demonic maid opened it gently. The heavy wings pushed inside, revealing a dizzying round room, with red and gold walls, splitting into five directions. There was a large staircase in the middle.

"What is this place?" I wondered out loud.

"Met-sheh Agurub, the palace of the Grand Eastern Wind," she responded and kept leading me onwards and up the stairs.

We stepped on a blood red carpet and I looked up to see the stairs stretched up even higher than the walls of the entrance corridor. There was a blazing light at the end. I tried to not stare too much at my guide's udder-sized breasts, which were covered only at the areolas by small round metal discs with dangling red sequins. Looking aside, past the white stone of the railing while I followed along, I noticed the copious amount of filigree on the outer wall.

"This way," she announced, and proceeded to lead me down a series of mistifying corridors.

I could swear we took four right turns, yet we ended up at a lavish room instead, with a low table that had a golden cup on it, as if set for me before I even arrived.

"You are thirsty, yes?" she asked, gesturing for me to sit on a violet pillow on the floor.

"Yes. Yes, very," I replied, sitting cross-legged.

I expected her to go and fetch something to drink, or perhaps call on another servant, but Eshtehar took a seat on a cushion at the adjacent side of the table. With grace, she took the right disc off her breast, leaned over, grasped near the tip and proceeded to milk herself into the cup. The silence of the room, punctuated by the gushing liquid hitting the metal, made me shift from side to side. I was like a tourist watching a strange ritual and not knowing whether he should participate. To my surprise, and slight relief from the awkwardness, it didn't take her long to fill the cup. She smiled at me, pushing the cup closer, and I did my best to maintain what would be eye contact if I knew where her eyes were.

"T-thank you..." I said and picked the vessel up.

The milk looked almost exactly like cow milk, perhaps a bit more cream-like. I didn't notice any smell when I lifted it up to my mouth. Between the fact that I didn't want to ruin my plan, and the fact that I hadn't had anything to drink after a long track through a sandstorm in a desert, I tilted the cup and took a cautious sip. Based on my current predicament, it would probably be more appropriate for the liquid to taste like battery acid, but it actually tasted just like condensed, sweetened milk. It smoothed the pain and roughness in my throat after a few gulps. Whether this drink was punishment or not didn't matter, I was pleased to have the mummified feeling gone, and downed the entire thing, setting the cup back down.

"You like it..." the giantess mused, putting her hand on the ground and leaning towards me. "I am glad..."

I couldn't tell whether the creature was trying to seduce me, or if this was a regular custom, but she began to refill the cup, and I couldn't help but feel like she was eyeing me while moving her face closer, with lips slightly parted. Soon the cup was full again.

"There," she said with another smile, flicking her slender finger across her nipple to rub the last droplet off.

Wishing to keep the diplomacy, I drank it down again, but throughout I kept my eyes on her. Eshtehar was for sure leaning closer.

"Mm- I need to see him!" I said, setting the cup back down.

"Oh..." her voice seemed a bit disappointed before becoming seductive again, "We have some time. What do you say we have you rest first for a bit? A bath shall refresh you..."

"Thank you, but I really need to see him as soon as possible!"

Trying my best to smile politely, I watched the caretaker straighten her back and sit up. She nodded and returned the smile, getting back up on her feet.

"Then you shall follow me, Matt."

We walked faster this time, through a winding network of corridors that gleamed with gold and inset gems on walls, rooms full of antique furniture covered with intricate lacework and old clocks, with almost a different epoch of decor in each room. The floors changed their patterns from checkerboards of granite to blue porcelain tiles with golden arabesques. The layout of the place itself was truly surreal, and it took me a while to realize, but at times a door to a room would have us walk onto its adjacent room's wall. Another time, we would be stepping on the ceiling. Gravity seemed to have no say in the matter, as I saw what I presumed to be servants, robed faceless female figures with silvery chains dangling from their necks, busy cleaning and rearranging the rooms "over" us or on what were our "walls". I had to stop for a moment, feeling dizzy when looking at an entrance ahead of me that would have me stand on an opposite wall of the room which looked just like the one we had left. My guide stopped and looked at me, tilting her head.

"Sorry..." I said, trying to hold onto a chandelier, "I'm not used to this layout."

"We're taking the fastest route," she explained.

"Yes... thank you... You have an... interesting palace..." I remarked.

"We're redecorating it still, I'm keeping an eye on it," Eshtehar smiled.

Eventually we reached a set of red, arched wooden doors with a golden frame and an eye relief carved above them. Eshtehar opened them and ushered me in, keeping her head down throughout.

"I guess we're here...?" I asked.

"Yes, but the audience is only for you," she informed me.

The room behind was nothing like the rest of the palace—it was a great, round, white hall, completely empty, with completely smooth walls, lit by an unknown light. She stepped in second, stood next to me, made a gesture with her hands, as if drawing a five and a seven with extra flourishes in the air, then bowed deeply. We stood in complete silence for a good half a minute, before she spoke up.

"Yes," she said, "yes, my lord."

Before I asked, she began to withdraw, still bent over and facing the middle of the room. Turning, I watched her gently close the door without uttering another word.

As soon as the heavy pieces of wood and metal clanked together, the whole room disappeared. In shock, I saw the same, familiar desert spring into existence, swirling with mists and covered with debris. I looked up and saw the dark clouds spinning into a vortex leading them up. Looking back down, I saw the pillar of mangled flesh and metal, standing about where the center of the room would be. A low rumble and an echo of horns beckoned at me to come closer.

No sooner had I made the first step that the wretched voice snaked into my mind. "My congratulations, mortal," Ald-ghareth spoke. "Your contract has been completed... Albeit not without obstacles..."

I did my best to not clench my teeth and fists as I walked up to the statue.

"You see now, my assessment of you was right all along," he continued while I bit my tongue. "Now I shall give you a moment's audience."