12. Nova

The day had an unusual air about it, almost like a subtle sigh of relief whispered throughout the arena.

The fluorescent lights above shone just a tad softer, casting an almost golden hue on the surroundings.

From my vantage point, everything seemed less intense, even the usually fervent crowd.

I closed my eyes momentarily, allowing the sensations to wash over me.

The soft hum of the artificial atmosphere tingled against my skin, the murmurs of the crowd creating a distant, almost melodic backdrop.

The metallic tang in the air, which usually felt oppressive, was lighter, almost fragrant.

Today, the battles were different.

Gone was the brutal ferocity and desperation that was typical of these contests.

Instead, the fighters moved with a rare nonchalance, their usual fervor replaced with something approaching camaraderie.

It was odd, like watching a dance instead of a duel.

I could hear Ashale's distinct grunts and shouts, even from this distance.

But there was an absence of strain or pain in them.

They sounded almost playful.

Curiosity piqued, I peered down into the fighting pit.

Ashale was facing off against an opponent who resembled a massive, walking tree with arms that seemed to stretch endlessly.

Yet, they moved in harmony, their combat more synchronized than adversarial.

The soft, smooth floor of the Prize Pool felt cool against my bare feet.

I didn't bother ascending my platform today.

It felt unnecessary.

And from the corner of my eye, I could see the other Prizes thinking similarly, many of them already descending their own platforms, conversations sparking among them.

A triumphant cheer from the crowd signaled the end of the round, and Ashale emerged as the victor.

But there was no gloating, no aggressive posturing.

Instead, he offered a hand to his fallen opponent, pulling him to his feet.

They exchanged a few words and a mutual nod, and Ashale began making his way towards the exit.

Excitement bubbled within me.

I felt like a giddy teenager as I waited for him at the base of the stairs leading up from the arena.

Every sense seemed heightened in that moment.

The sound of his approach, the slightly musky spice that always accompanied him after a fight, and the rush of the air as he moved closer.

As Ashale neared, I barely gave him a moment to catch his breath.

Throwing my arms around him, I pressed my lips to his rough cheek, feeling the familiar scratch of his stubble.

His surprise was evident, but it was quickly replaced by a deep, rumbling chuckle.

"What was that for?" he asked, his deep voice vibrating through me, making my fingertips tingle where they touched him.

"For being you," I whispered. "And for today. Today felt… different."

He nodded, understanding evident in his gaze. "It's a day of reprieve. Happens once in a blue moon here. Combatants aren't looking to kill; they're looking to connect."

I smiled, my heart feeling lighter than it had in days. "It was beautiful to watch."

Ashale's arm wrapped around my waist, his touch warm and protective. "I'm just glad I didn't have to worry you today," he murmured, his breath tickling my ear.

Today, the stark, brutal reality of the arena seemed a world away.

It was a brief respite, a chance to breathe and savor the little moments that made life worth living.

Ashale's eyes met mine, their depths shimmering with emotion.

Without another word, he scooped me up into his arms, carrying me effortlessly.

The world became a blur, but I felt grounded, anchored by his strong hold.

The sensation of being carried, of being cherished, was heady, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck, drinking in the moment.

As we exited the Prize Pool, a few onlookers cheered while others simply smiled.

Today wasn't about winning or dominating.

It was about connection, understanding, and finding joy in unexpected places.

And as Ashale carried me away, the world around us fading into insignificance, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love.

Today, amid the chaos of the universe, we'd found a pocket of serenity, and I would treasure it forever.

* * *

The world faded away,replaced by the ever-familiar mental realm where Ashale and I would often find solace.

But today, the place was far from its usual serene and comforting environment.

A spectral reimagining of Ikmal prison surrounded us, its walls now resembling panels of frosted glass, glowing dimly and pulsating with an eerie energy.

The layout remained unchanged, a distorted mirror of the reality we knew.

I, in my spirit bird form, felt incredibly vulnerable.

The surroundings were strange and yet eerily familiar.

The weight of my avian body was light, yet every heartbeat, a frantic pulse of worry, felt amplified.

With each rapid flutter of my wings, the minuscule feathers brushed against the air, creating a sound only I could hear. It was a symphony of anxiety.

My bird eyes, seeing the world in a different spectrum of colors, took in the shimmering translucence of the walls.

They bore the potential for danger beyond them.

With every tiny heartbeat, the weight of trepidation built in my chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It felt as though my tiny heart might explode from the sheer pressure of it.

I mustered my courage and fluttered around the corners, peering cautiously into each adjoining corridor.

I was looking for danger.

The sounds of the prison were muted, but my heightened bird hearing picked up every tiny echo, every shift in the eerie silence.

A soft murmur here, a whisper there.

But what made my feathers truly stand on end was the deep, unmistakable roar that resonated through the very air around me.

It was close, too close.

Panic set in, and I hastily took to the air, my wings beating rapidly.

The very tips of my primary feathers tingled with every stroke as if electricity coursed through them.

But as I ascended, a vast shadow loomed over me, and a fierce growl rumbled through the atmosphere.

Before I could process what was happening, a massive tarigon, Ashale's tiger-like spirit animal, lunged at me.

The creature was colossal, its body covered in black and golden stripes that shimmered in the ethereal light.

Its six powerful legs ended in sharp, deadly claws.

And from its two front legs, it slashed at me in a quick, predatory movement.

My heart raced, pumping faster than ever. Each rapid thud felt like a miniature explosion within my frail bird body.

My vision, though clearer and sharper than that of my human form, seemed overwhelmed by the rush of colors and sensations.

The glint of the tarigon's claws, the terrifying maw filled with sharp teeth, and the ferocity in its eyes all painted a picture of imminent doom.

Instinct took over, and I banked hard to the left, narrowly evading the tarigon's deadly swipe.

The wind gusted sharply against my wings, every feather vibrating from the close call.

The tarigon's musk, intense and wild, filled my nostrils.

Another roar echoed, sending tremors down my spine.

The world was a whirl of chaotic sensations: the chilling touch of the air, the cacophony of growls and wing beats, the sharp tang of fear in my mouth, and the intense hues of our mental prison.

Then, from the far reaches of this mental construct, a calm voice broke through the maelstrom:

"Nova, summon another creature."

It was Ashale, communicating through our shared psychic bond.

The urgency in his voice was unmistakable.

I needed to act and fast.

Taking a deep, steadying breath — or as close to one as my bird form could manage — I began to focus, trying to pull another spirit animal to my aid. The tarigon was powerful, but together, Ashale and I could face any challenge.

But what to summon?

In this place of heightened emotion and danger, I would need to think quickly.

My next choice could very well dictate our fate within this spectral prison.

* * *

I could feel it:the shift in weight, the surge of raw power.

The frailty of the bird was replaced by the solid strength of a tiger.

My heartbeat echoed in my chest, no longer rapid and fearful, but now a steady and powerful rhythm, resonating with primal energy.

My vision, once hyper-focused on the details, widened in scope, colors becoming warmer and richer.

Every sensation was amplified.

The cold, smooth floor of the mental prison felt firm under my padded paws.

The air tasted fresh, each breath an invigorating gust of energy.

As I stretched and flexed, the sinewy muscles under my striped fur rippled, ready for action.

The tarigon, sensing the change, regarded me with wary eyes, the glowing green orbs flicking with both anticipation and caution.

And then, without warning, Ashale's tarigon charged.

The sound was deafening: our combined roars echoing within this confined space, a raw expression of both challenge and intent.

The ground vibrated under the weight of our movements.

We collided with a force that seemed to shake the very foundation of our mental realm.

Our claws clashed, our teeth gnashed, and our growls reverberated in a symphony of wild ferocity.

The tarigon's powerful six legs gave it an advantage in stability, but my agility allowed me to dodge and weave, always staying one step ahead.

The sensation of our fur brushing against each other was electric, the friction producing an almost sizzling heat.

Each impact, every swipe and counter-swipe, was a dance of raw power and strategy.

But the tarigon was no ordinary adversary.

Its strength, combined with Ashale's honed instincts, made it a formidable opponent.

It seemed to anticipate my every move, countering my swipes with its own deft maneuvers.

Our roars and hisses filled the space, a cacophonous duet of challenge and response.

In one particularly fierce exchange, the tarigon managed to pin me down, its massive weight pressing against my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Desperate, I used every ounce of my strength, pushing against the tarigon.

For a fleeting moment, our eyes locked.

In those swirling green depths, I could see a glint of mischief, a hint of the Ashale I knew outside this realm.

And just as quickly, the moment was gone.

The tarigon had bested me.

As our spiritual forms began to dissolve, transitioning us back to our meditative stances, I could feel a warmth, almost like blushing, spread across my face.

The sensations of our spirited clash still echoed in my muscles.

Ashale, looking every bit the victor, leaned over with a smirk. "You should have zigged when you zagged," he teased, his voice full of mirth. "Always anticipate the moves, never react."

I rolled my eyes, even though he had a point.

He continued his playful chastising, offering advice on what I should've done, how I should've countered, and where I missed my opportunities.

But as he went on, an idea formed in my mind.

A way to surprise him, to level the playing field.

As he was deeply engrossed in his monologue, I leaned in and, without warning, planted a soft yet firm kiss on his lips.

The taste of surprise was sweet, the sudden silence even sweeter.

Pulling away, I met his wide-eyed gaze with a sly grin. "Next time, Ashale, anticipate that."

But I wasn't done surprising him.

Not yet.

* * *

Every timeI shifted into one of my spirit animals, it was like sinking into a rich, velvety embrace of sensations, vivid and intense.

The octopus form was one of my favorites — the sensation of the water caressing my soft body, the tiny hairs on my arms feeling every minute movement.

I closed my eyes and let the transformation seep through me.

I could feel the gentle air current brushing against my skin and the air's temperature, cool and refreshing, enveloping me.

My body felt flexible and malleable, and as I flexed, I could feel the hundreds of suckers on my tentacles pulse with a life of their own.

My octopus eyes, large and curious, took in the scene before me.

The tarigon was there.

Sensing my advantage, I surged forward, carrying the subtle spice of seaweed and the ocean's depths.

With remarkable speed, I lashed out, my tentacles snaking towards the tarigon.

They coiled around its legs, pulling it into a tight embrace.

The tarigon roared a strange, muted sound, and thrashed about, trying to free itself.

But my grip was firm, and I felt the triumphant rush of having the upper hand.

Ashale's surprise was palpable.

The tarigon's eyes widened, and its struggles became more frantic.

But, every time it tried to pull away, my tentacles would simply stretch and pull it back.

I could sense victory.

Then, without warning, the tarigon vanished.

I recoiled, my tentacles curling in confusion.

Had he cheated?

Did he leave our shared mental space because he couldn't handle the shift in power dynamics?

Anger bubbled within me, warm and prickling against my skin.

I wanted to yell, to demand an explanation.

How dare he just disappear when the tables were turned?

But as I was about to shift back, something unexpected happened.

Before I could react, tentacles, stronger and more powerful than mine, wrapped around my body, coiling and tightening.

I tried to resist, to break free, but it was no use.

The tentacles were everywhere, restraining me, their suckers attaching firmly to my skin.

My vision was clouded by the sudden intrusion, but as the water cleared, I saw it — the octar, a massive spirit animal with tentacles twice the size of mine.

The realization hit me like a tidal wave — this was Ashale's alien version of an octopus.

I struggled, but the octar's grip was iron-clad.

It pulled me close until we were face-to-face, its large, intelligent eyes looking deep into mine.

The sensation was overwhelming — the firm grip of the tentacles.

Ashale's voice echoed, distorted but recognizable. "Didn't see that coming, did you?" There was a playful taunt in his tone. "Remember, Nova, always be ready for the unexpected."

I huffed, bubbles escaping my mouth, but my annoyance was short-lived.

I had to admit, I was impressed.

This was a side of Ashale I hadn't expected, and it only added to his allure.

The sensation of being wrapped in his tentacles was both strange and thrilling, an intimate dance of trust and challenge.

Our tentacles entwined, we floated in the fantasy realm, two spirits exploring the depths of our connection.

There was no winner or loser here, just two souls finding their rhythm together.

Our tentacled tussle was one of exhilarating sensory overload.

My octopus form tried to maintain its grip on Ashale's octar, but he was more adept, darting around me, his suckers brushing against my tentacles, sending an electrifying thrill throughout my being.

We rolled end over end, sometimes I was on top, and sometimes he was, in this playful, fluid dance.

Yet, amidst the whirlwind of emotions, Ashale's voice cut through the water with clarity:

"The dragon! Become the dragon!"

His words startled me.

The dragon.

It was one spirit animal I had not yet mastered in our meditative sessions.

A creature of immense power, the dragon represented a side of me I hadn't yet fully embraced.

Taking a deep breath, I focused, willing myself to change.

I could feel it, the fire within, the heat starting at the base of my spine and traveling upward.

The sensation was like molten gold pouring through my veins, warm and radiant.

The sound of a dragon's roar echoed in the distance, the deep and rumbling call igniting a newfound confidence in me.

My tentacles began to elongate, the familiar softness giving way to scales that glittered and shimmered.

My eyesight sharpened.

But as soon as I felt the power of the dragon, it slipped through my fingers like sand.

My form wavered, caught between the octopus and the emerging dragon.

The strength I had felt moments ago now felt like a distant memory, replaced by a pang of disappointment and frustration.

I could sense Ashale's surprise and concern but also his unwavering support.

He tried to stabilize me, wrapping his tentacles around mine, guiding and grounding me.

But it was to no avail.

The immense effort to transform drained me.

I felt the energy seeping out, leaving me breathless and spent.

I tried to communicate, but all that escaped were bubbles, each one carrying a piece of my faltering resolve.

We continued our dance, but the vigor and playfulness had dimmed, replaced by an unspoken understanding.

As we floated, locked in our gentle embrace, I felt the pull back to reality.

The spirit realm began to recede, replaced by the familiar sensations of our meditative space.

The smell of incense wafted into my nostrils, and the soft hum of the environment around us began to become more prominent.

Slowly, with a sensation that felt like surfacing from a deep dive, we phased back into our original human forms.

The last remnants of our aquatic adventure still clung to us — the coolness of the water, the brine of the sea, and the slight tingling where our tentacles had touched.

We sat there for a moment, catching our breath, our foreheads nearly touching.

I could feel Ashale's warm breath against my face, and the comforting thud of his heartbeat resonated with my own.

"That was… intense," I whispered, my voice hoarse.

Panting heavily, I gazed deeply into Ashale's eyes, searching for answers.

The dim light in our meditative space reflected off Ashale's eyes, illuminating them with an almost ethereal glow.

"Why can't I seem to form the dragon like I can with the others? It's like I'm almost there, but it slips away just as I grasp it," I murmured, the hint of frustration evident in my voice.

The sounds of our ragged breaths filled the silence that stretched between us, while the soft texture of the mats beneath us grounded our senses.

Ashale's expression was contemplative. "The dragon," he began, his voice a low rumble, "is a creature of free spirit. Unlike the others, it doesn't bend to one's will easily. It requires a connection of a higher order."

He paused, his fingers gently brushing against my cheek, the soft touch sending shivers down my spine. "In our realm, it represents ultimate power, but it also demands ultimate trust and unity."

His admission caught me by surprise. "Wait, are you saying you've never summoned the dragon either?"

Ashale shook his head slowly. "I've tried, many times, but I've never truly come close. However, when we connected for a split second, I sensed the dragon's power in you. It was more than I had ever felt on my own. It gave me hope."

I was momentarily taken aback, both flattered and bewildered. "But why is it so essential now?"

He looked away, his face reflecting a deep inner turmoil.

The texture of his shirt felt cool and a bit damp as I reached out to touch his arm, urging him to continue.

"Nova, if we can summon the dragon, we wouldn't have to keep fighting. Its power would ensure that I'd never have to step into that ring again. It's the key to our freedom," he admitted, his voice filled with quiet desperation.

Swallowing hard, the gravity of his words sinking in, I whispered, "How do we do it?"

Ashale looked back into my eyes, the intensity of his gaze making my heart race. "Legend says that the dragon can only be summoned when two souls are deeply intertwined, achieving the state of true fated mates. It's not just about affection or attraction. It's a bond so profound that there's not an iota of doubt, fear, or mistrust."

A warmth spread through my chest as I considered his words.

The thought of such a profound connection with Ashale was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Could we ever achieve such a bond?

"We've been getting closer every time we practice," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "But it's not something that can be forced. It has to come naturally from both of us. We need to trust each other unconditionally, letting go of all our fears and reservations."

His words resonated deep within me.

But could we truly achieve such a bond, especially in our current situation?

My mind raced, considering the implications.

"Ashale, maybe you need more rest, more time," I said, my voice filled with concern.

The texture of his skin was warm as I placed my palm against his cheek.

He smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. "Rest can wait. Our bond, our connection… it's growing, Nova. I feel it, and I know you do too."

I nodded, unable to deny the truth in his words.

The bond between us was palpable, like an electric current that connected our souls.

But the dragon remained elusive.

"We'll keep practicing," he said with determination. "One day, I know we'll master it."

I nodded, letting his optimism envelop me.

But a nagging thought remained, casting a shadow over our shared hope

‘ One day' might be too late...