Dula and Arelli had left the starting area with the bandaged Wangshi and traveled deeper inside the abandoned mines. Tailing them was no problem with the Trinity Watch’s soundproofing function, but Lark’s nose itched after each turn down a different corridor. Mixed scents entered from all directions. Lark licked his index finger and pointed it above Gushi’s body. No wind. But the tunnel they were currently in smelt of salt and baking sand, different from the earlier room, which had an ashen taste.

Gushi’s antenna bobbed up and down, changing colors between green and blue, but the investigators had not shown an interest in stopping. Lark glanced around with Gushi’s Perception skill. The canopy-type plants Nympha snacked on earlier were highlighted in a blue hue, meaning they had a spirit nature, but where was Gushi’s green light coming from?

His shirt pocket rustled. Nympha was snickering. “Ulu’s chosen is really loved by the water sprites, however, only fire sprites like the lower caves.” Bright blue eyes shone in the darkness, sending a chill down Lark’s spine.

A mark of annoyance passed over Dula’s brow as they halted in front of a caved-in passage. Dula’s golem placed Wangshi back against the wall and punched its large log-like arms at the dead-end, paving a way forward.

“It’s time, stay back.” Nympha jumped out of Lark’s pocket and scurried alongside the wall closest to Wangshi. Without any given warning, the earth began to give off heat in the same area as the golem.

Dula immediately casted Wind-Walker on himself and shouted for Arelli. The alchemist’s alarmed voice was enough to spur Lark to jump back.

“Set up a fire ward,”— Dula waved his quill again, sending a spell to protect the defenseless Wangshi just in time before the gravel beneath their feet melted into a small pool of lava— “now!”

Magma sputtered out of the golem’s body through small cracks in its armor. Dula’s golem didn't look in pain to Lark, but its coal-like eyes were bleeding red. With another wave of the quill, the golem dissembled back into the earth, but molten red continued to spread across the chamber and lava seeped out of the sealed passage, torching both rocks and plants into flames. A line of smoke rose to the ceiling of the tunnel and Nympha could no longer be seen in the stygian blackness.

Dula retreated next to Arelli, who had pulled out the spear behind his back. He dug a line with it, separating the distance between them and the lava flow. The spear tip scratched along the walls too as Arelli thrusted it into the ceiling. He placed two reddish stones inside the holes and stepped away. The ward was set; out of the carved line, horse-shaped figures made of red dust raced over the fire in waves. The liquid lava, which once bubbled like an angry swamp, settled into layers of dried, black earth.

Dula flipped the gray hair out his eyes, watching the blaze settle into mere ash and smoke. “I forgot you aren’t much of a fire specialist. But, this is good enough.” Then he looked behind them and dispelled his Wind Shield. The windy sphere dissipated and a bandaged bundle fell haphazardly onto the floor where he summoned another golem to lift it like a large package. “Let’s go back. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Where was Nympha? Lark watched the investigation team leave through another corridor with baited breath. They’re taking him away!

“Worried, little one?” The shapeshifter appeared at the sealed passageway, holding a heavily bandaged Wangshi in its mouth. Slightly bigger than Silvina’s Ice Wolf, Nympha stood over the mound of dried lava and gingerly dropped the caretaker in front of the surprised Lark.

Lark sat next to the unconscious Wangshi and asked, “If he’s here, what did Dula and Arelli take with them?”

“The two humans?” Nympha asked, its purple fur shrunk back to the mouse form, while placing canopy leaves all over Wangshi’s body. “Oh, I left a Duplicate, a fake substitute.”

“Originally, all three humans eventually returned to the surface by force.” Nympha balanced on its stringy tail while dousing the unconscious caretaker with the leaves’ extracts. “I remember it like it was just yesterday. Ulu’s chosen summoned a water dragon, but it was all for naught when they met with the dark enchanter and his army back at their base.”

The green, canopy leaves covered Wangshi’s entire body, except for his head. Nympha took away the sword(that somehow managed to be bandaged to his hip) and dragged it next to Lark, who picked it up. He had expected it weigh a few pounds, however, it was like he was holding a cloud. It’s lighter than the twins’ cardboard machetes… he juggled it between his hands.

Nympha stared at him and he cleared his throat after putting away the sword. “Sounds serious. Did somebody die?”

“Yes.”

If only Lark could read the underlying emotion behind Nympha’s gaze, he would’ve understood, then and there, his new familiar was no stranger to death and all its accompaniments. Pressure in the room dropped with a flicker of Nympha’s tail slapping the ground; Gushi’s antenna changed colors from blue to green when the sides of the wall opened, and an outpour of bones, leather scraps, and ornery equipment piled onto the floor. Lark paled, covering his nose. He could’ve sworn even Sphinx held back a nauseated groan. A metallic, six-fingered glove tumbled with a big-boned skeletal hand still attached. Hundreds must’ve died here.

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” Sphinx reassured. “The bodies smell like the grease off of roasted pork… Orcs? Surprisingly, I also smell salt. I suppose someone thought they could’ve used a lil bit of seasoning.”

“The Vodianoi…salty fiends,” Nympha scowled and retrieved a green-coated scepter from one of the headless, blue-skinned bodies. Unlike the six-fingered skeletal hand, the Vodianoi didn’t wear much armor with their outer bodies looking like an empty crab shell; pincer-like arms and carapace torsos were strewn across the tunnel floor, but their legs, where were they?

He looked at the scrappy magic armor and weapons riddled with holes and dents. The six-fingered glove must’ve belonged to an orc; only the dead orcs wore heavy equipment. It was their blood and guts staining the insides of these leather scraps a brownish red, he thought with a dry hurl.

“When the dark enchanter killed one of their comrades…the one with all the runes on his body. Pity. And then this one fell down here again. I thought he’d be absorbed into the dungeon walls like the others before him, but his will to survive enabled him to find the world gate.”

The scepter, which was taken from the corpse dimly glowed; its jewel encrusted head couldn’t match the reflection in Nympha’s eyes. “The will to survive and surpass is not easy as the dead regret. Are you prepared?”

I can save him. Fake bravado wracked in his ribs in front of the littered corpses. Wangshi looked almost like half of a corpse. Lark gripped the sword, steeling his mind. “I’ll do whatever I can for him.”

“Stab the sword straight into his forehead,” Nympha ordered with eyes as cold as ice. Lark felt his soul leave his body, immediately thinking: You’re kidding? An edge of panic followed when the connection between him and Sphinx cut again. Or, Sphinx ignored his calls for help. All this nonsense of danger and reward was completely that fake’s fault—all contingency plans can go straight to hell!

“Hold it upright.” Nympha gestured, continuing the conversation without a doubt that he would follow the command. “And pierce it all the way down till nothing is left.”

His sword grip tightened as he tried to clamp down the rising frustration like a bitter pill. The black scabbard dropped to the floor and the blade rested painfully bare against Wangshi’s pale skin. Shockingly, he did not tremble as he thought he would, but his heart beat unceasingly, pulsing against his throat. Wangshi better live through this.

“I get the idea,” Lark snapped, guiding the tip across the surface of thin, black hair until it reached right between his thick, bushy eyebrows. A lash fell out of line. It rested slightly off-center on the top of his eyelid. Wangshi’s eyes remained motionless but looked as though they could awaken at any moment and they could be brought back to the real world. Out of this nightmare-like state. Lark kneaded the sides of the rough leather hilt while raising it higher. His hands formed a tight knot above the hilt and his thumbs rubbed against each other; they circled as if rolling back in time to when he didn’t make the choice to save time. The moment never arrived.

And it sunk down.

“Don’t close your eyes, little one.” Nympha waved a paw, signaling the start of unsealing the curse. The crashing feeling didn’t stop and his palms fused with the hilt until they collided against a barrier; the jian absorbed into the space created, impaling the foundation. Then he let go, watching the sword hilt disappear completely into Wangshi’s forehead.

“Stand back. I’ll do the rest.” Nympha leapt up above Wangshi’s head, the scepter was held by the tail until the jewel came out with a small pop. With a wild swing, the scepter chuted into the corpse’s chest, crumbling the shell into pieces, but Nympha kept the dimly lit jewel in its paws and settled it in right above the opening in Wangshi’s skull.

Lark had already fallen on his butt when Nympha took over the proceedings; unable to stand back up, he kept an eye on the strange gem and the blue-green energies rising from the gap he made.

“Hate when it does that: spirit compression.” Sphinx’s voice returned to him, abnormally out-of-breath. “Master Nympha is a bag of tricks. The curse seal is transferring into the magic gem.”

“You may refer to me as she, not that I identify with any human-generated genders—but my goddess was once a girl too,” Nympha retorted, holding the gem now swirling with raw energy. She passed the gem shaped like a marble to Lark, who caught it with his bare hands.

“Is this okay? Me holding it like this?” Lark’s eyes shifted to the gem warily and a new black box appeared.

“Item: Cursed Memory Gem (magic) (spirit) (uncommon)

A rank D cursed object. The curse will activate once gem is in use.

Effects: Paralysis. The afflicted will relive their worse memory during the duration of the effect.”

Master Nympha’s whiskers shook and her nose crinkled with wrinkles as she took back the gem. “Perhaps, it is too soon to give this to you. No matter. I have other gifts.”

She took off into the darkness carrying the gem with her and Lark stared at Wangshi. Despite the numerous corpses surrounding them, the scenery was not at all drab; after all, by overcoming this trauma he was finally able to cure Wangshi. It took some time, but he did it.

“What a pure smile,” Sphinx remarked. Something about the way he talked sent a chill inside Lark’s heart as if it wouldn’t be long before his happiness could disappear.

“And you have no idea what you just did,” Sphinx spoke again.

Why does he sound so pleased? Lark didn’t have time to wonder because SIM reacted with a new notification: “Holder’s stats have updated!”

“Lark Rune [Trickster]

[Survivor][Beginner Beast Tamer][Familiar*]

Happiness Level: 80%

STR: 18

DEX: 20 (+5)

INT: 18 (+5)

*MG: 15 (+10)

*SPT: -100

*LUK: 35 (+10)

Update: Due to the powerful familiar contract magic casted upon user: Magic power has increased by 15 points, Spirit power has decreased by 100 points, and Luck has increased by 20 points. Stats will remain permanent until the Familiar status has been removed.

[Familiar]
Bound by spiritual contract magic, the holder, Lark, has suffered a severe penalty of losing an eighth of his soul to the dungeon master, Nympha. Until the agreements of the contract are completed(holder must give up 99 Celestial coins, and complete Nympha’s request), the holder will be subjected to harsh spiritual training as deemed necessary by SIM to recover and strengthen soul properties.

Harsh spiritual training…in other words, punishment. Lark squeezed his knuckles. “Sphinx, you didn’t plan this. Did you?”

“I told you this excursion would be dangerous but rewarding. However, Master Nympha’s presence came as a surprise. Fortunately, there was no need to resort to drastic measures. Your trickster behavior helped. The penalty is less severe than I imagined.”

Lark touched his chest. The loss of a piece of his soul didn’t feel as dramatic as he imagined, but now his stats were in the negative. He got nerfed with stats lower than a peasant which virtually was unheard of. Imagine if he traded half of his soul…

“The solution is simple: you just have to squeeze your soul a bit to recover,” Sphinx answered his worries, but Lark returned it with a lemon-face. “And all is not lost. Your spirit familiar will save you if you’re in a tight spot.”

Yes, his new tattoo reminded him of this new obligation. Mr. Federov’s notes didn’t include information regarding Familiars; so he did what he usually did with matters he had no knowledge of, which was to ask Sphinx.

“Familiars are partnerships that can be established by numerous rights; divine, blood, or spiritual to name a few. The overarching law behind Familiars though is essentially Contract Magic, but that’s not to be confused with Pet contracts because the owner establishes dominance. In a Familiarship, there’s an equal agreement as you’re familiar with.”

Lark numbly shook his head, while rolling his eyes.

“Master Nympha showed some trust in you for whatever reason by marking you. Anyone like that light enchanter or that water-spear guy could’ve helped her since they had enough spiritual power to sense her presence...” Sphinx hummed. “She could’ve noticed your hidden potential though.”

“What was that?”

“Hm? Did I say something?” Sphinx acted coy.

Don’t try to be cute. Lark folded his arms when the sound of scurrying feet caused him to straighten his shoulders.

“Little one, I’ve returned with a more appropriate gift,” the mouse-sprite said, holding said present within its paws: an egg-shaped box. Or maybe he hoped it was a box.

He tilted his head, curious to see what was inside, but before Nympha could open it, Sphinx raised his voice: “Did my ward seduce you? Why on Pantheon are you giving him that?”

Master Nympha’s tail flickered and Lark held back an uncomfortable laugh when her hamster-like cheeks turned into a violet color.

“Lark, hurry and scan it before she—” Sphinx’s voice muted.

Nympha’s tail curled to her ears. “My goddess imparted this gift to me before she headed to the Upper Worlds. It’s a Cosmic Egg; a divine object. I want you to have it.” She paused, folding in her ears. “Because I’m not a heartless Familiar. And it’s definitely not because I like you! But, if you use it, you may be bestowed with extraordinary powers—.”

“I’m grateful you find me…worthy of receiving the Cosmic Egg.” Lark hurriedly knelt to Nympha’s eye level. “But I’m afraid, I’m not ready, or at least my heart isn’t prepared, you see,” he began floundering for words to show his sincerity. Sphinx’s reaction set his brain on fire, but Nympha’s actions made his heart squeeze from responsibility. What did they see in him, that he didn’t?

Luckily, Nympha’s face brightened as if she couldn’t care less about him rejecting her offer. “If that’s so little one, I’ll save it until you are ready. In the meantime, I’ll give you this instead.”

She shuffled behind an orc and picked up a rock with a silvery-white surface. Lark immediately understood what it was upon closer inspection: a spirit stone!

“I believe you’ll find this helpful,” she spoke with glee and hopped from the dried mound onto a canopy leaf. “With our exchange established, let’s head to the world gate.”

Lark ordered Gushi to store Wangshi before leaving the area.

“Convenient,” Nympha remarked, watching the slime absorb Wangshi before climbing back onto Lark’s head.

“I’d like to think magic makes things more convenient,” Lark replied, sidestepping a blood-stained boot. “Just like how you’re quieting Sphinx.”

Nympha gave a little cute sigh. “The convenience doesn’t last long.”

As soon as they exited the sealed passageway, Lark’s eardrums split to the sound of Sphinx’s stifling groan.

Lark’s new party traveled through the dark depths—he might’ve thought it impossible to navigate the darkness without Gushi’s flashy antenna. For Wangshi to have made it this far with his injuries… Lark’s stomach dropped at the thought, the struggle for survival when all else succumbed to death was too devastating to believe.

How’d he do it? He patted Gushi, who squirmed in return.

After several turns, the incline slanted upwards and Nympha raced over new plants with a fruit shaped like persimmons on a vine.

“Don’t eat those,” Nympha warned as Lark stretched out a hand.

“Wasn’t going to, but thanks for the warning?” He eyed his surroundings warily.

“Siren’s Treat (spirit)(rare)

An illusive fruit which weakens wills.

Found in the southern wilderness of Celestia.
Known uses: alchemy, warding, cooking”

Lark arched a brow. It didn’t cease to amaze him that the magical world used strange materials for crafting.

“What a delight. They used to serve these to Pantheon prisoners,” Sphinx said, smacking his lips.

“Smart,” Lark retorted, brushing up his pace alongside Nympha. If he fell some paces behind, she would give off high-pitched squeaks louder than a windshield wiper. He couldn’t tell if that meant she was eager or annoyed. Better not ask.

Within a minute the tunnel’s ceiling shrunk to only a foot higher than his Gushi helmet; looking ahead, if he walked with his arms spread wide, his fingertips would be able to touch the walls. Different from the dead-end passage of volcanic ash and salt, the skinny line to the world gate was cooler and the shadows created by the Gushi’s orb light fell over him like a splash of water. The crunch of gravel slowly silenced into powder. A gradual change from brown to pure black sand - didn’t become apparent until another light source revealed the new landscape.

An inhale, an unexpected breath of fresh air came into his lungs, later, an excited exhale spread over the loamy soil. Clumps of grass topped with flora covered the floor. The opening from which they came through carved into the walls that stretched half-way up into the sky. Spires of brown, whittled stone protected the space like an outer shell, while inside the center, an obelisk lightly covered in dust stood alone, magnifying the room with simply just its presence.

Lark crouched, sweeping his hand across the grass, while Nympha looked at him curiously. “The ground here is elevated from the rest of the cave.”

He trained his eyes onto the walls and up to the white pillar. Moonlight filtered through the skylight, revealing the numerous craters suffered through weathered age, but brightened its smooth, mysterious structure; the obelisk seemed like an old sentient being waiting for the party to approach it. “This place, it’s man-made.” Then he looked back at Nympha; the forest sprite had nothing to say and only beckoned Lark to follow her.

Upon closer inspection, scrollwork covered the obelisk’s entirety. Missing characters were only obscured by the damaged caused by the depressions in the structure; none of the etchings appeared worn nor rubbed out, meaning human-hands or otherwise had not defiled it. He wished he had gloves to examine it further.

“Are you forgetting we’re in the Palace of Memories?” Sphinx inquired. “Nothing you do here will affect it.”

“You’d be wrong there,” Nympha suddenly joined in, holding one of the flowers Lark had seen growing along the cavern walls. “World Gates are protected by strong spirit guardians. Ancient as they may be, they know fates worse than death. Fortunately, this one likes me.”

Nympha dropped the flowers in a clay bowl sitting on the octagonal pedestal. Numerous, dull gems were encrusted inside the silvery base in a zig-zag pattern, reminding Lark very much of a constellation pattern. Once upon a time, he could imagine a fiery sparkle inside those crowns, but their current state needed more than a shine to relive those glory days.

“Take your caretaker out. It’s time to return his memories.” Nympha nodded at Gushi and then pointed to the flattened grass.

Gushi hopped onto the floor following Nympha’s directions and repeated the process of Boiling Body, enabled its Engulf skill to spit out Wangshi from its slime chambers. With the caretaker no longer inside it, Gushi rolled back onto Lark’s head, reclaiming his rightful spot and was rewarded with a head-pat.

Lark rubbed the back of his neck. Wangshi’s situation was almost identical to his sleeping princess scenario, except that Wangshi was an old man with a goatee and fortunately, there were no dragons or kisses involved. The instant Nympha touched the obelisk with her paw, another old man appeared, a very old and bald one at that, sitting next to the bowl as if he’d been there from the beginning.

Thick, white eyebrows covered his nearly closed eyes; and his long beard reached the bottom of his white robe. On the outside, the spirit guardian had an unassuming presence; quiet, maybe sleepy, but certainly not frail. His eyes smiled and a rosy tint colored his cheeks, watching the little mouse sprite run up to his hand. “Little Nympha, you’ve come.”

“Were you expecting me, old man?” questioned the sprite.

“Did you forget were in the domain of prediction?”

“Predictions can’t be scheduled in, I’m afraid that’s not on my list of appointments today,” Nympha quipped and the old man’s bushy beard shook like the wind tickling treetops.

“This was more of an unscheduled stop.” Nympha’s tail swerved in both Lark’s and Wangshi’s direction. The old man looked down at the still unconscious caretaker and the frozen solid Lark.

Pulling his ‘stache, the old man recognized the sleeping man on the ground and said, “I’m afraid there’s a no return policy Little Nympha.”

Immediately, Nympha slapped her tail against his robes. “Stop joking old man. He’s clearly a returner. So return his memories.”

The old man smoothed out his robe and pressed a hand to his knee. “Little ones can’t take a joke these days, isn’t that right young lad over there?”

Lark’s eyes became a bit bigger with the expression of: You talking to me? Oh yes, you must be, because there’s nobody else here.

He lifted his shoulders, shrugging. “We didn’t get a receipt.”

“Crafty.” The old man’s beard shook again and he pulled on it. Buried in all that eyebrow hair, Lark could see it, an eye. The sundial glowed red.

“Tell me, what is it that you truly desire?” An almost crystalline light could be seen in the man’s irises.

“Resist it,” urged Sphinx, the sundial glowed even brighter, but all Lark’s focus trained on the old man’s face. Even then, all he felt was mist.

“I… resent being forced to do things.” His mouth moved like a puppet.

“You’re deluded.” The old man’s sudden callousness caused Lark to stiffen.

“You’re not resentful because you’ve been thrusted into uncontrollable situations. Your resentment comes from everything before that, the constant questioning and worrying, but in fact, I believe you’ve come to enjoy the process, immensely.”

Perhaps, he had forgotten he wasn’t speaking to a regular human being. He was talking to someone who’d be acquaintances with Death.

“You’re clever. But you haven’t fully answered the question: what is it you truly wish for? Love, wealth—?

“Already have it,” Lark interrupted. His gaze hit the floor upon where Wangshi laid. “I came here to fix him. That’s what I wish for.”

“A temporary measure,” the old man replied but relented. “You’re really different from the others’ who’ve come here before, making a wish on someone else’s behalf. Even this man here was only thinking of his own survival.”

This conversation seemed to be heading in a strange direction.

“Allow me to rephrase,” Lark said.

Off a cliff.

“I came here to see the world gate, but all I see is an old man mouthing off at me to see if I ask for three more wishes like an idiot. If you’re gonna continue wasting my time, maybe I should just leave.” With my insanity.

“Hold on—” Nympha interjected, but the old man stopped her.

“It’s okay, I’ve figured out this little one’s character more or less.” He brushed back his beard and let it freely flow over his robes.

“It’s a shame you weren’t here—” the old man paused, leaning into the pillar while counting his fingers—“two millenniums ago. A pitifully rare specimen like yourself would’ve been swept to the Upper lands with the other pure souls during that time.”

Lark couldn’t actually tell if the old man closed his eyes and pretended to recall a past event, but the old man’s lonely expression echoed the same sentiment he first heard when he met Sphinx. “Even gods are lonely,” he quietly said. When the old man made no reproach, the sundial dimmed.

“I believe you’ve passed his trial—” began Sphinx until, without any indication, the old man raised his arm and smashed his hand against the pillar. A bell-like sound rang out instead of a thundering clap; nonetheless, for the first time since entering the Mind Space, Lark felt pain.

Clutching the side of his head, he peered up at the godlike figure standing on the pedestal, where the jingling sound echoed loud and clear. The old man looked at the mouse beside him and said, “Your partner has quite a bit of wisdom kept in his young soul.”

“I think it’s from forcing him to grow,” said Nympha, who looked at the old man’s rare smile. “You don’t want to talk to him some more? He’s someone I picked after all.”

“He’ll be back,” the old man reassured. “He’s got the same bright-eyed look as Celestia, and he’ll know by then he has to let something go in order to move forward. ”

Slowly, the old man’s body began to fade to transparency and Nympha began to wave good-bye. Gushi’s body that had been strapped to his head from the beginning of this adventure disappeared after the second calling.

“Wait—” Lark fumbled over the pathway, ignoring the heavy notes lifting through him as if they were seeking release.

“It’s been done. I’ve returned his memories. But he isn’t able to come through here with you, he’ll need to find another way back…Eventually, though everyone will meet back up.”

Lark continued to stand at the base of the pillar with his hands on the sides of his head, resisting the enticing call of the bell. “H-how do you know?”

He tore off one hand to reach towards the old man, anything to stop him from forcing them back. There were still so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things he needed to know! Wangshi’s family, how would they get back here, who was Celestia? Why wasn’t there ever enough information!

No, not yet. His mind weakened, but before leaving the Mind Space, he vaguely saw the old man’s lips move. “I just do.”

“No!” He roared. His fist plowed through Wangshi’s forehead. The top part of the sundial scratched the bridge of his nose, causing the caretaker’s face to scrunch up in pain.