“It’s a maze down here,” remarked the brooding alchemist. A dim, spherical light emitted from the top of his feather pen, while it jotted down scribbles on a piece of parchment paper. Meanwhile, Dula’s golem attended to Wangshi’s wounds. It was having difficulty wrapping the bandages evenly. Lark’s caretaker sat with his back to the wall, eyes still closed, but at least the head wound sealed.

Why aren’t they reacting to me, Sphinx? Lark bit his lip and sidestepped to the edge of the tunnel wall where he could keep an eye on Wangshi, but not stare directly at Dula and Arelli.

You’re not supposed to exist in the first place, this is just a continuation of the events.

“Sorry, my friend, before I can fully help you recover Jaime’s asked me to discover the spy within our group…and well to do that I need to take a quick peek at your memories…Don’t look at me like that Arelli. He’s my patient. I have to disclose the truth within the bounds of my contract.”

It suddenly clicked with Lark, that this is how Sphinx sensed other mental manipulations. Dula’s quill flinched, no longer writing anything down and moved horizontally in broad strokes like a paint brush.

“And we’ve all signed the contract in regards to the royal mission to agree that we must not engage in treason, I’m merely enforcing the rules.”

Arelli jutted his jaw, but looked away and walked a few feet down the tunnel, where shield-shaped plants were sprouting at the top. After the quill pen finished drawing a rectangular square on the parchment paper, Dula placed his and Wangshi’s hand on the paper scroll.

That’s similar to how Mishka did her summoning. Lark remembered her placing her entire hand on the bat signal scroll.

Brace yourself, the Mind Space is shifting dimensions, Sphinx warned. The advice came too late as Lark was no longer standing in a damp, tight space, but rather he was back outside in the arid weather with his eyes spinning.

Ugh, that felt worse than taking the bus. Reeling from motion sickness, Lark sat on the gray sand and applied pressure the bridge of his nose.

Hey, that’s the red-haired broad with the light enchanter. They’re meeting awfully late, reported Sphinx.

Lark glanced at the surroundings; the terrain was a complete reversal of when he first arrived. The skies darkened and the opaque lake looked more menacing in the night. What was more charming, however, was the light of the purple moon casting dancing shadows over the crumbled city as if to show the ghosts who still roamed here.

Silvina and Jaime patrolled the outskirts of the camp with the light enchanter torching marks every few yards or so. From far away, it looked like the enchanter left beads of fire (instead of candlesticks) on a moonlit walk between two lovers. The atmosphere between the two starkly contrasted with the eerie surroundings and Lark could hear the woman begin small talk in front of the black tides with the help of Gushi’s Perception skill.

Silvina idly fiddled with the charm on her bracelet. “What about Rhea?”

“Too short.”

“Salene?”

“Too tall.”

“Me?” The last answer almost came out as a squeak.

“Just right.” Jaime sniffed the ends of her hair as if he were inhaling a lovely rose; her face flushed darkly.

Goodness, this kind of torture was worse than watching Sky and Mishka flirt. In some ways, Jaime reminded Lark of Samuel. Athletic and smooth, the makings of any leader or Casanova. The gloomy thought pushed down when Jaime leaned in for a kiss and suddenly the scene faded to black. Back in the underground tunnel, Lark groaned again, but this time was joined in by Dula.

“What a femme fatale.” The alchemist heaved a sigh and scratched the gray stubble on his chin. “The Shi Clan doesn’t have any implications to betray us, but he did see something that could hurt the royal family, in particular, the second prince, Balto.”

Lark couldn’t tell if Arelli heard Dula’s rumblings, but the blue-haired man was frowning at the plants growing on the walls of the tunnel. Out of the corner of Lark’s eye, a shadowy figure prowled on the canopy-leaf right of Arelli’s ear and without warning a sickening crunch followed. The strange creature, smaller than a mouse, bit on the shield plant in front of Arelli’s face, however, it wasn’t receiving any reaction from the mute, who continued to stare deeply at the plants.

Lark raised his hand. “Scan—”

Even before the creature laid its glowing blue eyes in Lark’s direction, a snippet of Sphinx’s yelling ‘no’ cut short into nothingness. Swiftly as the call had come and gone, as though someone had suddenly lowered the volume all the way down to zero, Lark knew he’d been trapped by the mysterious prowler.

“Little one, what do you think you’re doing?” it spoke, but all Lark could see was its two, beady eyes that had no pupils. They were just staring at him like floating orbs atop the canopy leaf.

“Sphinx?”

“No?” it answered. “Is that your familiar?”

Lark returned the same curious ‘no’ followed by an uneasy silence and then another daunting crunch of the leaf and another; he couldn’t even hear himself breathe. No one else in the room was moving either. For the moment, time had stopped and Lark felt the sense that he had returned to somewhere homely, but at the same time, ancient. The prowling shadow hopped onto another canopy leaf and renewed chewing.

Lark deciding to answer the creature’s first question finally said, “I wanted to scan you if that’s alright?”

The shadowy ball gave a coquettish chuckle, which sounded oddly similar to a parakeet; Lark felt a sense of dread overcome him, feeling both a tight squeeze on his heart from fear and cuteness. “A polite human… been a while since I’ve seen one of those,” it answered, somewhat lively. “Go ahead. See for yourself what I really am.”

Lark raised his trembling hand in the direction of the canopy. Before the black box appeared, the mystical creature said, “So I see, you’re a world traveler? The second one I’ve seen apart from my previous master.”

“Guardian Forest Sprite (Dungeon Master)

Skills

Shapeshifter”

Lark gulped. Somehow having this minuscule amount of information was worse than having question marks on his screen. Clenching his jaw, he hurriedly took the frozen Gushi off his head and placed the slime behind himself.

“How is it that you can see me?”

“The better question is how you can see me?” said the sprite. “I sense you’re relatively unaware of the dangers in the Mind Space; no one likes having their secrets exposed and you just happened to stumble upon me, a creature with an ungodly amount of spirit control. Frankly, something like this isn’t common, but you’re within the Palace of Memories. When you use a deciphering skill like the one you used just now, I was alerted to it is all.”

Lark hit a blank. There were so many things he had just learned about today; curses, seals, enchantments, mana, and spirit power. Never mind about how the scan skill works. But assuredly, he committed something grave against this spiritual creature. Going with his gut, he apologized for peeking at the creature's abilities and began rambling about what he was doing there, and how his caretaker over there(the one wrapped in bandages) was set up by an organization called Wishes of the People back on Earth. His story lasted approximately twenty minutes before the sprite laughed again.

“An amusing tale. But don’t think, I don’t know what you’re up to, stalling for time. I’ve been watching you since you’ve arrived, skittering around like a lost bug.”

Did he look so easy to squish? Lark glanced at his spatial ring on his finger—would he have to fight for his life so soon?

“I noticed you’ve put away your slime, why?”

“I didn’t want you to hurt him,” he blurted.

“And what if I asked for him in return to guarantee no harm will come to you?”

Lark hesitated—the sprite was toying with him. “I would…hypothetically…” he shuddered. “Politely refuse.”

“Ha-ha!” The shadowy ball bounced from the canopy to the walls in excitement. Lark’s eyes trailed its movement until it landed the floor, it’s true form materializing into a mouse-like creature with purple fur. A kidney-shaped body with the lower half decorated with runes wiggled madly on a stringy tail.

“What about another proposal?” it's colorful two-toned body hopped side to side. “Little one, I’ll help you speed up the process of eliminating the curse from your caretaker’s mind and guide you to the world gate.”

“And in return?” Lark asked, doubting the strange-looking mouse’s promises. Despite the creature taking the appearance of a rotund, field mouse, perhaps its true form was something more sinister.

“I won’t ask for much.” It stretched out a tiny paw. “Make a contract with me.”

Lark wanted to frown, but felt afraid to do so and forced his knees to bend down. As soon as his left index finger pressed against the cold paw, he felt a warmth enter his palm. It’s reading me, he realized when he felt energy recirculating inside his body and the bridge between their fingers turned from hot to cold in a matter of seconds. Unable to jerk his hand free from the binding magic, he furiously demanded, “Let go.”

“No one goes around giving freebies.” It snickered like a rat and the area around his hand began to freeze-burn.

Shit’s hot! Lark seethed but closed his eyes recalling the feeling of Gushi’s Patching skill over his lobster-red hands. Maybe, he imagined it for a second, but his palm did feel cooler until it didn’t. Again, he tried to pull his hand away by jerking his entire body, and in the freak-out, panic attack he somehow managed to turn on his spatial ring. Between the shaking and desperation, a coin dropped out of the sphere and landed on the mouse’s head. Its perked up ears, flattened as if it suddenly became depressed and the energy between their fingers became warm again. Unfortunately, they were still stuck together so he couldn’t relax yet.

In midst of his sloppy victory, he was able to put together the words ‘thot’ and ‘shit, why’d you do that?’

“Y-you, pesky, tiny human, dare drop a Celestial Coin on my head!” Big, droopy tears leaked out the corners of the mouse’s eyes.

It’s crying? He felt like crying too. “You tried to freeze my hand off!”

With its other paw, it grabbed the coin, shaking it like a tambourine. “Don’t think you can try to bribe me with my goddess’s coinage. I need at least half your soul for my cooperation.”

What my what-what the fuck? Lark’s eyes peeled back. “You give me half of your soul then.”

It shook the coin more madly. “Little one! You jest! You have nothing else to negotiate with.”

Lark’s tongue clicked and he wagged his free hand at the mouse. “Don’t lie, I see you holding onto the coin like a piece of cheese. Scan!”

“Item: Celestial Coin (currency) (rare)

Also known as the goddess’s seal. These coins were crafted by descendants of the goddess to celebrate her memory, and forever preserve her beauty and power. Only those with the royal bloodline can make these. It’s said that the Goddess Celestia was the offspring of a powerful elf and human, hence the spiritual and magical properties hidden inside the coinage.

Given to Joffrey Gullivan by Cornelius Goodwing”

Its mousy face twitched. As Lark suspected, it really didn’t want to let go of the coin, so he grinned like an evil merchant. “How about it? In return for your help, I’ll pay you with Celestial Coins.” Although the coins seemed really valuable, for the time being, his soul was more valuable to him!

The sprite’s paw trembled. “You have more?”

A couple more. “Absolutely, more!” he replied without hesitation.

“Okay, fine!” it huffed, but Lark noticed its tail springing. “An eighth of your soul, then and a hundred Celestial Coins! I still need to make a living…”

You still want my soul? Don’t pull that pouting face at me. Lark bit his lip. “Fine…”

As soon as he acknowledged the deal, the energy inside his body reheated until his hand returned to the freezing-about-to-fall-off sensation. Unable to hold out, he affixed another term to the contract: “In installments!”

The bridge between their fingers cut off and Lark pulled back his wrist, where there a new mark formed.

“Y-you trickster! Pesky! Human!” The mouse waved its two front paws up and down, and its button nose twitched madly.

“Ugh. I feel like I made a deal with a demon.” He pushed his wrist up against his forehead.

“Don’t compare me to those spirits in Daefaelium!” Skittish, it jumped into Lark’s shirt pocket. “I accepted an eighth of your soul already and I will take the coins in installments, pesky little one. I’m watching you.”

Lark looked down at where the sprite was nesting. “Are you freezing time?”

“I exerted my soul force over your channeling system to slow the progression.” The mouse held up three claws, then two, and then one.

“NO. Don’t scan—” Sphinx’s panic-stricken voice entered Lark’s head.

“Shut up. I’m alright.” I guess. It wouldn’t hurt to knock back a few at this point. Lark rolled out the creaking in his neck, while putting the petrified Gushi back on his head and looked at both the mouse in his pocket and the Trinity Watch. “What now?”

No one answered him immediately. Gushi stretched out a slime arm and patted his nose.

“Thanks, bud.”

Sphinx’s voice boomed inside his head with disbelief mixed with sheer awe. “You made a familiar pact with a legendary sprite?”

“Yes, I’m in the habit of hoarding monsters and new tats, Sphinx,” Lark answered warily. The new mark on his wrist matched the two-toned runes on the mouse’s body, which were blue squiggly lines.

“And don’t forget little one, I have an eighth of your soul - so I can hear the conversations you’re holding inside your head,” the newest member of his party squeaked.

“Dungeon master…” began Sphinx.

“Nympha,” it said. “Just call me Master Nympha, little ones.”

Lark didn’t know if Sphinx felt rattled by Nympha putting them together as little ones, but he did simmer and casually said, “We’re not on the same level, Master Nympha.”

“We’ll see when you can take your protege over to Celestia first. Remember, you will free me as a priority when you arrive.”

“Before we get into the minute details,” Lark cleared his throat. “You said this place was called the Palace of Memories, is that different from the Mind Space?”

Nympha’s long tail scratched its ear. “You really are new here, little one. How dangerous and irresponsible.”

Lark squinted; Nympha was looking at his watch rather than at him.

“To begin with: the Palace of Memories is a branch of the Mind Space. But its depth is connected with the Spirit World. Everyone is made unique by two things: soul and time. Because we exist in one point of time or another in the passage of history, we can access the Spirit World which is unaffected by age through our conscious. Doing so allows us entry to everyone’s memories of the time and place. From what I understand, you’ve gained entry through channeling this man’s spirit. Now, you’ve slightly altered his memories of the events as well as others ever so slightly — but you haven’t affected the past, only the memory of it. But just because we can, does not mean we do because it’s dangerous.”

“What about it… is exactly dangerous?”

“For starters, me.” Its blue eyes blinked innocently. “And other things like the fog around the conscious. If you go in, you won’t come out. It’s a place for lost souls to get eaten by Spirits.”

It’s a buffet out there. Lark too looked at the Trinity Watch with an unamused face. The blacked-out areas from the Location Scan must be that fog Nympha was talking about.

“But the Palace of Memories is also dangerous for Spirits. While we’re not always in the Spirit World, many like to roam in the place where they feel the strongest emotions and we may not want to leave. When that happens, they will haunt that spot for all eternity.”

“Are you saying, that’s why I need to free you because you’re haunting the mines?”

“In part, yes. When a Spirit haunts a location, that place typically becomes a dungeon and the dungeon master, me, cannot be free until someone finishes the dungeon.”

“Uh-huh.” Lark nodded. It was vaguely making sense to him.

“Not to worry though, little one! Since we’re in a pact, sweeping the dungeon will be easy.”

“I doubt it, Master Nympha. You picked up a newbie, who hasn’t even learned real magic yet.”

Nympha’s whiskers straightened as its nose sniffed all over Lark’s chest. “Don’t lie. I feel elven magic on his person.”

Lark heard a loud scoff in his head. “He drank liquid from the Elf Stem. Its magic hasn’t manifested yet.”

“It looks to me that the Flower of Life is only at its budding stages and will surely awaken the chosen’s abilities when the timing is right.” The mouse sprite closed its eyes. Perhaps, the sprite was regretting the decision to “help” him, Lark thought, however, its eyes reopened and looked right up at him.

“My goddess had an elven heritage and she only awoke her elven magic at a time when she couldn’t express her human magic. But she used to say, magic or spirit power was not important as long as a person has noble intentions. That’s what my goddess believes, and so I too will follow through with my promise.”

“Thanks, Master Nympha.” Lark beamed and patted the mouse’s head. Expectedly, the mouse sprite’s soft fur hummed pleasantly under his fingertips. “Good human! Now, let’s go kidnap your caretaker!”

Is that something a legendary sprite should be saying?