Danaël felt his spirit returning to his body. It was a strange experience; he was now conscious but unable to move a finger. His eyelids fought against his consciousness, and the nerve signals begging them to at least open slightly. The young boy had no idea how much time had passed, and he tried tirelessly to remember his fight with the minotaur.
Was he dead? Danaël was inclined to say yes; the opposite would have surprised him. If he wasn't, then how on earth could that have happened? By what miracle had he survived?
Danaël tried again to open his eyes. In vain, but he felt a tear running down his cheek, a tear of blood. The young boy was sure of that, smell was his predominant sense at that moment. It must surely be due to the extreme stench emanating from the pit. Rather than trying to open his eyes, Danaël focused on his senses. Touch in particular, as he quickly realized he was lying on the ground. He was probably still in the center of the pit because he could now feel the sticky, muddy texture that was present in it.
He noticed a particular movement near his face. It was light, almost gentle, a fine breeze caressed his face, so light that only Danaël could feel it at that moment. A fluttering of wings, that's what it was, a slight fluttering of weak wings, but just discernible to Danaël.
"The fairy?" He thought.
Danaël got the answer to his question in a second. The fairy pinched his left cheek with all her might, flapping her wings excessively. Normally, the young boy wouldn't have felt any pain, but this pinch triggered something throughout his entire body. With his adrenaline completely gone, Danaël coughed in pain.
There was no specific place; his whole body was screaming for help. It was as if the pinch had reminded his brain that it was supposed to feel pain. The young boy could almost feel his cerebrospinal fluid working out of sync, trying to cushion the blows he had already received, trying to restart his nervous system, which was groaning, almost asleep.
"OUCH!!" Cried Danaël.
He sat up abruptly, before immediately regretting it as he clutched his stomach. In front of him stood the fairy, twirling in the air, filled with excitement and clearly delighted to see him conscious. Danaël was about to speak to her, but his mouth remained open, agape, and the with his vision still blurred, the young boy struggled to understand and realize what he was seeing.
He had almost forgotten them, the monsters from the pit, who had been mere spectators in his fight against the minotaur, were now standing with him at center stage. They surrounded young Danaël, who turned his head from right to left in bewilderment. He wasn't afraid, at least not after realizing what the monsters were doing.
There must have been close to a hundred of them, maybe more. All of them were prostrated at the feet of young Danaël, like religious followers bowing down before their savior or a sacred relic. Danaël seemed to be their golden calf at that moment, the creatures appearing to be in complete adoration.
Another thing caught young Danaël's eye: the monsters no longer had physical forms. They now seemed to be astral beings, floating together to form a mainly greenish mass of varying colors. Looking more closely, Danaël realized that he did not recognize any of the species before him. Every time he thought he recognized a monster, upon closer inspection he would discern details that made the creature in question something else entirely.
He thought he recognized a huge toad, but this creature had three eyes and a snake's tongue. Turning his head, he saw another creature whose entire body was nothing but red, luscious lips with long fangs. Lifting his head, his eyes fell on another creature overlooking him, an octopus. At least that's what Danaël thought at first glance. Then he noticed the large yellowish eye splitting the creature's forehead and its tentacles, which resembled arachnid legs.
"What the hell is this?" Danaël muttered with a certain apprehension.
The fairy in front of him had been twirling around and was now motioning for him to follow her, pointing to the breach Danaël had forced the minotaur to open. Danaël gathered his courage before following the fairy. He struggled to his feet but was surprised to find he could even stand.
Now that his memories were coming back, the young boy remembered the many ribs the minotaur had broken. Running his hands over his body, Danaël felt no wounds, not even a scratch.
"Hey, tell me, fairy, was it you who healed me?"
The fairy turned to Danaël, still wriggling, and nodded vigorously before landing on Danaël's head.
The monsters, still prostrate, gradually moved aside, clearing a path for young Danaël. Little by little, the young boy approached the chasm left by the minotaur, from which a shrill greenish light emanated. The row of monsters stretched to the edge of the chasm. Danaël, with a weak step, crossed the gap, now fogged with green light.
Feverishly, the young boy ran his hand over his face, trying to accustom his eyes to the changing colors. It was a hidden room. The floor was covered with green, almost transparent ice, and the walls were the same color. Danaël contemplated his reflection for a moment, blown away by the beauty of the room. His attention was quickly redirected, however, as the main feature of the room was in its center.
A throne, a throne worthy of one of the greatest kings; it was imposing, old and worn, with a sawtooth back.
"What is this place?" Danaël said aloud.
The throne stood prominently on an altar, and Danaël climbed the two steps to reach it. He examined the structure for several minutes, wondering whether or not it was real.
"Given what's happened so far, I wouldn't be surprised if it were a trap."
The fairy on Danaël's head began to pull his hair vigorously, prompting him to sit down. The young boy, still hesitant, approached the throne feverishly.
"I hope you're not leading me to my death little creature," Danaël said to the fairy.
The throne was freezing cold, and Danaël shivered. Very quickly, this feeling was overtaken by something else entirely. Just as he had been when facing the minotaur earlier, Danaël entered a trance-like state. His eyes took on that sparkling pink color again, only this time it was different; he was completely conscious.
What's happening to me? What is this madness?!"
Spiritual Connection Established
This time, Danaël was conscious enough to read the title. The monsters prostrated in the abyss gathered around the young boy in the throne room. Danaël, like a king, looked down at his subjects, prostrated at his feet. The young boy scratched his neck briefly, looking thoughtful.
"Could it be that this dimension has its own consciousness? Could this be my reward for completing the quest? Or maybe someone is behind all this? Some kind of game master."
Not far off, young Danaël.
"This 'spiritual' interface seems to be different from the quest messages I've received from the dimension."
Danaël turned his attention to the fairy perched on his head. He gently cupped her in his hands to observe her. Something had changed; his pupils now allowed him to see more, and the fairy's fantastical features came into focus before his eyes.
"You're a real ball of fantasia, little one. Tell me, what's your name?"
The fairy twirled in the air, leaving behind fairy dust on which Danaël spelled out the word "Lizadora."
"Lizadora? Is that your name? Is it okay if I call you Liz?"
The fairy nodded excitedly.
"Okay, Liz, I have a few questions for you. First, I'd like to know how it is that you understand me? Do you speak Ordinal?"
The fairy shrugged before pointing to the spiritual interface message still displayed under Danaël's eyes.
"Okay, so it's thanks to this 'connection' that you understand me. So you're a spirit too?"
The fairy nodded.
"And them too?"
The fairy nodded again.
"Why, why were you fighting with that minotaur?"
The fairy pointed again to the message on the spiritual interface. Intrigued, Danaël moved his right hand toward the message before finally pressing on it. A green digital box then appeared in place of the message. Danaël discerned an inscription at the top of the box in the left corner: Guardian of Spirits.
Suddenly, the rest of the spirits, except for the fairy, evaporated before the astonished eyes of young Danaël. Under the title of guardian of the spirits, the name "Lizadora Cornerose Venterra" appeared.
Danaël didn't need Liz's help to understand why she was the only one who hadn't vanished, or at least he had a theory. He deduced that he had established a spiritual connection with the fairy and not with the rest. Their disappearance allowed young Danaël to understand a second fact: even these spirits were not native to this dimension. "But then what were they doing here? Did someone lure them here? The master of the game? Or did they enter through a fantastic rift in their own world? Danaël wondered, scratching his neck quickly.
"So, were you fighting to be the guardian of the spirits? And since I won, I'm the one who gets that title."
The fairy rejoiced with delight before twirling around Danaël, clearly thrilled that the young boy had understood. Danaël sighed before leaning back more comfortably in his throne.
Thoughtfully, Danaël rested his right cheek against his fist.
"Nobody asks me my opinion, and what if I don't want to be your guardian? What do I get out of it?"
The fairy stopped twirling before pointing to a luminous object on the ceiling that Danaël hadn't noticed when he entered. He jumped up from his throne and said:
"I take back what I said, being a guardian of spirits seems pretty cool."
***