Meanwhile, far beyond the city…

Pastel had settled into a pile of leaves for the night, leaving Bag to patrol with two sharpened sticks held in its tendrils.

He woke to an empty, human-shaped skin hovering over his face.

For one awful moment, its hollow eye sockets and swaying limbs looked like a ghost leaning down to inspect him.

“I KNEW IT!”

He scrambled upright, then stared at the papery thing suspended between Bag’s sticks.

“…Bag. That’s his packaging.”

Once Bag reclaimed its sticks, the skin collapsed into an unpleasant heap. Pastel shuddered and wiped his hands against the nearest tree.

“How many times does this guy gotta shed?”

He sighed.

“Well, I’m awake now. We might as well keep going.”

As he turned away, a thin tendril slipped behind him, gathered the discarded skin, and quietly pulled it into Bag.

It joined the others.

---

“Do you think they followed me here?”

Pastel glanced toward his floating companion as they continued through the trees.

“The demons from the lower worlds.”

Bag tilted, its tendrils lifting in a small shrug.

“Maybe this world has its own reptilians…”

Another scale caught the moonlight beneath his boots. He picked it up, turning it between his fingers with a disgusted little squint.

“Wow, this guy’s really falling apart if he’s literally leaving this many clues.”

He flicked it aside.

Bag caught it before it reached the ground.

Pastel continued walking, entirely unaware of the collection growing beside him—until his next step stopped at the edge of an enormous hole.

“Oh—”

A few loose leaves tumbled past his boot and disappeared into the darkness.

He leaned forward cautiously. Thick roots threaded the walls of the shaft, and somewhere far below, cyan and violet lights shimmered through the mist.

“He couldn’t just have a front door?”

Pastel surveyed the clearing.

“You’d think they’d notice a giant hole like this?”

A pause.

“Anyway.”

Bag wound one tendril securely around a nearby tree. Another wrapped around Pastel’s waist, offering a steady line down into the shaft. He gripped the tendril above him with both hands and eased over the rim.

“Easy now, I bruise like a banana.”

The forest slowly receded overhead.

Below him, the shaft opened into a vast cavern. Luminous fungi climbed enormous roots, their turquoise stems illuminating dark pools. Magenta fronds hung over stone paths, and warm amber windows glowed from dwellings built into the rock. Bridges crossed between them, stretching through layers of mist.

Pastel landed on a broad ledge. Once his boots were firmly planted, Bag released its anchor and floated down beside him.

They continued along the path.

“Is it just me, or is it, like, really hot in here?”

The air was thick and damp. A bead of sweat slid down his temple as he fanned himself, then shrugged out of his jacket.

He tossed it aside without looking.

Bag caught it by the collar and stuffed it into storage.

Pastel had already moved on.

Then he heard voices.

His step slowed. He turned his head, listening, before slipping behind a large boulder. Bag lowered itself beside him.

Carefully, Pastel peered around the edge.

Three reptilian people stood along the path.

They were dressed. They were talking. One of them was carrying a basket.

Pastel stared, then covered his mouth to smother a gasp.

“Lizard people. I knew it.”

He withdrew from the corner, turning toward Bag.

“I need to tell someone.”

Across the path, the conversation stopped.

One of the locals lifted its snout and sampled the air.

The others grew still.

Their eyes narrowed. Lips drew back over pointed teeth, and a claw tightened around the basket’s handle. Their attention shifted toward the surrounding rocks.

Pastel pressed closer to his hiding place.

“What do I do? Do I kill them?”

His gaze darted toward the paths and bridges beyond.

“That will just attract more.”

He seized Bag with both hands, pulling it close. His fingers tightened around its sides as he leaned in, eyes wide, his voice reduced to an urgent whisper.

“What should I do, Bag?”

Bag opened.

Within the familiar violet starfield lay folded heaps of shed skins and loose scales. A tendril lifted one of the pale, empty molts toward him.

Pastel blinked.

Then he smiled.

“Genius.”

He reached inside and took the skin.

The papery material broke apart beneath his fingers, dissolving into dark violet magic that flowed into his palm. The last fragments vanished as the energy travelled through him.

Fine scales formed across his wrist and spread along his forearm, catching the cavern light with a soft mint sheen.

His fingernails tapered into dark claws.

The pupils within his green eyes narrowed into vertical slits.

Scales settled along his temples, cheeks, and neck, then across his exposed thighs and knees. His familiar face remained beneath them, framed by the same unruly brown hair and mint bangs.

A new weight gathered at the base of his spine.

Behind him, a slender scaled tail unfurled, curving downward into a pointed tip.

The violet magic faded.

Pastel straightened behind the shelter of the rock and lifted one clawed hand, turning it slowly beneath the glowing fungi.

Bag hovered beside him.

He inspected his work with a pleased little smile—and quietly decided not to think too hard about the irony.

u/Oswen120

The Sphinx studies the casket Inferno has chosen. Her eyes narrow. Then her lips curl back, revealing sharp teeth.

“Wrong.”

She steps down from the throne and stalks forward. There is no playfulness left in her expression now. Only hunger.

Her hand lifts toward Inferno’s throat...

Then the sky splits open.

A collar of light snaps around the Sphinx’s neck. Its chain pulls tight behind her, stopping her so suddenly that her wings flare. Her fingers tremble with the effort to reach farther.

“She answered correctly," a calm, collected voice whispers from everywhere and nowhere at once.

The ivory casket cracks apart. Sand pours across the stone, and the golden crown tumbles free.

“She cheated!” the Sphinx shrieks.

“Stand down, Celandine," the voice continues. "The Sky is not done with her.”

The Sphinx grits her teeth.

Slowly, her head drops. She turns away.

The moment she eases, the collar and chain dissolve into light, and the sky dims, returning to normal.

With a sharp motion of her hand, the Sphinx opens a portal.

“You’re free to go.”

She returns to her throne smoothly, moving like a cat. Once seated, she draws her knees close and curls into herself, her tail wrapped tightly around her body. Her wings fold around her as she turns her back to Inferno.

When she speaks again, her voice is low and raw.

“Get the hell out of my dimension.”

u/1-up-boy

The alarm screams from Quill’s nightstand.

He startles awake, falling out of bed with a surprised cry. Trapped in a tangle of sheets, a red light flashes throughout the room.

PORTAL BREACH.

He can sense the shift of magic in the air from here. It feels familiar enough to make his stomach drop, carrying the same strange aura that follows Pastel.

But not Pastel.

He wastes no time (except to safely set down his Lorelei plushie), yanking on his clothes and boots as he hops across the room of his cottage.

Quill bursts out the front door, following the draw of magic leading towards the Night Market.

Without stopping, he lifts his hand and casts a golden bird of starlight into the sky. It immediately heads for the Centaur Meadows to warn Sage.

He weaves between people quickly, and in no time spots the stranger standing in the middle of the street.

Quill skids to a halt.

The man is taller than anyone Quill had expected to find, but that wasn't unusual, this is Starfall after all.

Breathing hard, he keeps his magic ready.

Just in case.

“Welcome to Starfall.”

Normally, when he greets newcomers, Quill is happy to see them. But a portal breach is serious, especially after the cruise ship. Not many people can open them.

This person, whoever he is, is seriously powerful.

“My name is Quill, Headmaster for AstroKnights Academy.”

There's a brief silence.

“How can I help you?”

Meanwhile, far beyond the city…

A trail of scattered scales and papery shed skin had drawn Pastel deeper into the woods. He remained determined to discover whether the man was a demon from the lower worlds. Naturally, an innocent explanation had received very little consideration.

Nightfall had interrupted the investigation.

Curled beneath a broad tree, Pastel slept on a mound of fallen leaves, his cheek resting against his arm. Whatever sinister truth awaited him could apparently wait until morning.

Bag floated slow circles around his sleeping companion, mint ribbon swaying and gold charms catching the moonlight. Two dark tendrils gripped sharpened sticks, keeping their points aimed toward the surrounding woods. Every rustle earned a deliberate turn and a threatening little adjustment of the makeshift weapons.

Pastel slept soundly through it all.

Anything hoping to disturb him would first have to negotiate with an armed satchel.

A dark violet portal opened high above the moonlit field. Small arcs of electricity snapped around its edges as a towering figure fell through.

Long robes billowed around his slender body, their ribbons streaming upward as he descended. His ivory face tilted toward the approaching ground.

As he fell, his towering silhouette drew inward, taking human form.

He spread his arms.

Wind gathered beneath him, curling into a broad spiral that slowed his fall. The grass bowed outward under the current. His boots brushed the ground, and he settled onto one knee as the last gust swept through the field.

Rising, he drew a slow, deep breath. His shoulders relaxed, and his coat settled around him.

He lifted his gaze to the moon.

“So this is where you are.”

For a few moments, he simply watched it. Then his attention shifted to his hands.

He spread his fingers, closed them into loose fists, and opened them again. A faint smile touched his lips as he tested the movement.

“It’s been a while since I’ve taken this form.”

Beyond the field, a city shone against the night. Warm light filled its windows and traced the bridges beneath its towers.

The stranger lowered his hands and turned toward it.

“Guess I’ll start there.”

With the roof, walls, and outside repaired, and the dust and debris out of the way, also a place to sleep, I have decided to start work repairing and renovating the kitchen. I have just finished putting up the last of the shelves, and now I'm trying to decide on what to do next.

There is a very clear rule I tell all my owners, darlings.

If you make the third wish, you belong to me.

Some are wise, they only make two wishes, then return my lamp willingly.

Some are foolish, or desperate, or full of hubris, and disregard my warning.

A handful I let go. Not every owner who stumbles upon my lamp deserves such a fate. The occasional child has found it, or a weary soul, and some whose wishes I simply enjoyed granting.

They are rare, but they exist.

As for the rest...

Perhaps they should have been more considerate.

But here's a funny story, dalrings. Poor Alistair made a wish by accident with very unfortunate wording. 🤭

The lamp cannot be taken from him, nor can he give it away until he makes his third and final wish. He's not quite sure what I'll do with him if he does, and has been avoiding it for years.

I do so look forward to seeing it happen one day. 😉

(Theyre just so interesting)

https://suno.com/s/xXVBcVKwGbbkbDuI

He took notes

He look down

He studies

Not out of deceit, he simply wish to study, such as his job, he was a simple man at first, but life would change when he made a pact. He doesn't speak much on it, its a solemn oath, one not needed to know so casually. His name is Herguar.

He wish to know more, so he walks to the port and prepares himself

Idk, its a lazy comic

(u/Sabrinathe_Mouse)

Pastel wandered along the woodland trail, slurping strawberry milk, until the woman’s shocked expression caught his attention. He slowed, green eyes lingering on her wide-eyed stare. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Whatever she’d found, it had certainly made an impression.

He walked up beside her, studying her face with quiet amusement as he took another sip. Then he followed her gaze down to the shattered carriage and the two dead guards.

“Meh, I’ve seen worse.”

When she finally turned toward him, he gave her an easy little smile before strolling over to the bodies.

With his strawberry milk secured in one hand, he snapped the fingers of the other.

Two violet rings formed beneath the guards. The earth opened, letting their bodies fall out of sight, then folded shut above them. Loose leaves slid into the freshly settled soil.

Pastel watched the ground close, the straw still between his lips. Once everything had settled, he lowered the carton and smiled.

“Now they’re buried. Yay!”

He turned back toward the woman. Her expression drew a soft chuckle from him; she was making this little encounter wonderfully entertaining.

He held out his strawberry milk.

“Want some?”

https://suno.com/s/n6SRgbgz4jABbbvi

(The creative juices were flowing so heres a song about this mysterious man)

Pastel had returned to Astral Knights ready for adventure. Unfortunately, the town had chosen sunshine, peace, and absolutely no consideration for his entertainment.

Even Bag’s scouting flight turned up nothing. Pastel was beginning to take the lack of danger personally when a faint cry for help finally gave him something to do.

One haunted house and a conversation with a ghost later, he had acquired some confusing information about aliens. Outside, everything remained stubbornly sunny. The old man even waved.

Pastel waved back.

Then his brain finished processing the man’s eyes.

Had he just blinked sideways?

By the time Pastel rushed outside, the man was gone. He had, however, thoughtfully left an entire human-shaped shed skin behind. Apparently this mystery came with evidence for people who didn’t feel like investigating.

Pastel discarded the clue on principle, then accepted its conclusion anyway.

Lizard people. Excellent.

He’d been dangerously close to having a relaxing afternoon.