I weave around the diamond spear that rockets up from the earth below. The next two following in its trail require passing through a bend, but I avoid them with ease.

  As I climb higher into the air, and the pillars stretch further, it becomes less than a challenge to avoid, but it isn’t the pillars rising from below that concern me. I’m already trapped. The wall of crystal is encasing. The only part of my sight not obscured by diamond lies beyond the lynx, and by the curving shape of this new crystalline cavern, there is unlikely to be an opening beyond.

  I speed towards the ceiling of countless sharp spikes. This is not something I’m ready for. I’m not ready to take on the lynx. It can still become more injured. I can exhaust it further. Allowing it to decide the terms of our battle is beyond dangerous. Not only am I stuck in a relatively small size, but I no longer have the benefit of being hidden from its sight.

  A huge pillar of diamond rushes down from the ceiling to spear me through. Again, I slide out of its path. The rapid volley of crystals snapping downward in an attempt to pierce me becomes increasingly difficult to avoid as I get closer to the ceiling. It is dangerous, but not more than remaining the target of the lynxes anger while trapped in this artificial cavern.

  I try to connect a distortion beyond the crystal walls, but I find they only land within the thick crystal. The great distance I’ve worked so hard to push my bends still cannot reach beyond the diamond.

  Just how much crystal has the lynx made?

  All I can do is push forward. With a bend, I narrowly avoid another spear, but that brings me directly in the path of another. The blow is glancing, thankfully, having twisted my body enough to avoid the sharp tip rushing down with speed. Though, even glancing, the crystal has the weight of a mountain behind it, and flings me sideways.

  I pass through another distortion, this time bringing myself right to the edge of the ceiling. It is risky, but I need to try. Immediately upon reaching the uppermost point of the cavern, I cast a hole through the diamond above, reaching as far as my spatial muscle will strain.

  It works! The hole reveals open space beyond the confines of the lynx’s trap. I dive through… only to be battered in the side before I can reach. One of the pillars that had tried to pierce me before, broke free from the rest of the mass. It scraped against the other crystals with a horrid screech as it moved sideways, until it struck both me, and blocked my escape.

  I want to try again, but the inverted forest of diamonds grows thicker. It drops lower. The crystal walls extend far, preventing my escape.

  Realising there is no longer any escape, I fall out of range of the ever enclosing ceiling. Its diamond spikes a constant pain to avoid. My eyes fall on the lynx. It stands there, unmoving, yet its eyes blaze with fury and teeth bared as it growls. This beast is so assured of itself that it doesn’t even bother chasing me down while it has the chance.

  This is the worst possible scenario. I’d expected to have the chance to flee if it found me. The growth in my distortions and the vast open space of the surface leave me with much better chances to keep out of its clutches than last time. But this massive wall of crystal… it’s as if the creature knew what would stop me.

  Along each of the lynx’s legs is a thick coating of crystal connecting to the now hard ground. It stands, watching me as the walls continue to close around us and the countless spikes try to puncture me from all directions.

  This is it. I cannot escape. I’ve already worked so long to cut down on the lynx’s strength, and while the circumstances aren’t ideal, I am now forced to fight the beast. I may not be ready, but that can no longer be an excuse to avoid this battle.

  I will be strong, or I will die. I will be smart, or I will die. The lynx will die, so I will live.

  Scia will be avenged.

  Despite my still non-ideal size, I reorient and speed toward the lynx. If it wants to remain still, then I’ll take advantage.

  Dozens of spears rise from the crystal ground before the lynx with that horrid, deafening scraping noise. I don’t dodge. Instead, I push myself faster, racing towards the central few that spear towards me with the most power.

  Six holes appear. Six diamond pillars pass through them without resistance. I do too. All around the lynx, the distortions appear and allow the diamond spears to stab into already opened wounds. Three dig deep into the bite-mark along its neck. Two more stab into its underside. The last opens before the being’s eye.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  All but the spear to the eye pierce deep.

  As I appear out of the back of a hole that holds one of those diamond spears, the lynx yowls a deep rumble. Its pressure thrums through the air and threatens to freeze me in place. I heave off the weight by hissing my own presence, and slither out of its immediate range. Without my full size, I dare not even attempt biting it.

  The lynx glares as it slowly extracts the diamond spears from its neck and stomach. Blood flows freely down the crystal pillars. Blood that shows it is a creature of flesh, and not an elemental, despite what its outer elemental coating may indicate. I release my influence over the bend, but with such strong diamond passing through, they are unable to collapse.

  Oddly enough, the spear striking its glowing eyes left not even a mark. I’d thought they would be one of the best targets; a fight where the opponent has lost its senses is preferable over all. But it seems even that option to level the odds is beyond me.

  I grow rapidly. By constantly pushing my spatial muscle to its limit, I’ve been able to increase my rate of growth beyond what it once was. Unfortunately, by pushing my body to larger heights, I have a lot more growing to do than I used to.

  As I flit through the air, giving myself time to grow, I notice the lynx no longer throws sharp spears at me. The diamond pillars are now blunt batons that try to crush me between rising and falling masses, rather than the sharp spikes it has used up until now.

  Is the lynx scared I’ll use them against it again?

  The thought fills me with both excitement and concern. The lynx, so much larger than myself, felt enough pain from my attack that it is actively trying to avoid it again. Consequently, I’ve lost one of my best opportunities. The lynx shows an annoying level of intelligence that, while I expected it, strip me of options.

  My free space to fly continually shrinks with the walls closing in, and the lynx stands unwilling to strike at me itself. If I wait too long to act, I’ll simply be playing within the feline’s paws. I need my space to fight. The lynx doesn’t.

  So I slither towards the beast again, swimming around the heavy hammering blows of crystal pillars crashing into one another constantly. They don’t crumble away or dissolve after smashing into one another. Rather, they remain to fill the air and make traversal gradually more obstructed.

  I keep just out of range of the giant beast, circling while dozens of diamonds try to crush me. The lynx towers over me, glaring without acting. My fangs snap through holes. The pair dig into the open wound of the creature’s neck, but the lynx only hisses in response. Even as I grow to my former full size, my teeth are nothing but pinpricks to the beast.

  I’d wanted to keep the fact that I can now create bends large enough to support even my largest size from the lynx, but as I look over the sea of crystal below, I don’t dare allow myself a moment away from the flowing grasp of my distortions. If only I hadn’t been caught off guard. But it has already happened. There’s no use concerning myself with lost opportunities.

  I continue to grow beyond my former maximum. Bends open wide enough for my head, and tremble as my body stretches them open with my passage. The huge distortions only cut a short distance through the fabric, but it is enough to allow me to flow naturally in the air.

  My body weaves through the crystal pillars, leading the ones trying to crush me to crash into others. The immense weights behind each pillar are enough to shatter through the unmoving ones. My scales are pelted with a rain of diamond fragments. None so much as scratch a scale.

  The lynx growls. With my growing size, its crystal pillars grow thicker, but less frequent. Yet it still doesn’t move. Slowly creeping my path closer, I find the lynx continues to stand steadfast. It tries to cut me off with a crushing pillar, but I take the opportunity of proximity and redirect the diamond into the lynx’s side with the same bend I flow through.

  It grunts, but takes the blow without moving. The crystals all along its legs link the beast to the ground and hold it steady. The lynx snaps its head at me, but a bend takes me away from its jaw before I become little more than mulched bone. Despite making the attempt, I notice it doesn’t move its legs. Even as it tries to bite me, it cannot release its legs.

  As the cavern continues to shrink around us, taking away more of the space I have to move, I finally realise what’s going on. The beast needs to be connected through the crystal to control it.

  With my body rapidly approaching full size, I decide to take a risk. I dive in near its hind legs, away from where it can bite me, and curl around the thigh above the crystal covered section.

  I’m already as large as I’m going to get, and yet the lynx’s sheer bulk is insurmountable. A tiny snake clinging to the leg of feline. My full length might reach the height the lynx’s head raises off the earth, but the weight difference between the two of us unquestionable. Even as I curl and constrict, I can feel the muscle beneath diamond fur tensing, refusing to be crushed, suffocated or starved of blood.

  My jaw slams shut, fangs sinking deep. They actually break through the hard strands of diamond fur. The meat is tough, and my fangs scrape uncomfortably against the sharp fur as they sink as far as they’ll go. Last time, I couldn’t even scratch the surface.

  This is possible!

  I clench. I constrict tighter than I ever have. The lynx yowls, crushing my body with presence, but I don’t let up. It twists as my fangs scrape bone, lashing out with its teeth to bite at me, but the crystals continue to hold its legs. It cannot reach.

  Bone cracks. I can feel the slight tremor beneath my scales as the feline’s leg fractures. The sound of shattering is glorious as I realise I’ve actually crushed its leg to such a degree. Every moment this fight goes on, the more confidant I am that this is actually possible. I can avenge Scia.

  It is not until I’m struck with the devastating pain of impossibly sharp teeth sliding through my back that I realise it wasn’t the lynx’s bones that shattered.

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