I Awakened A Divine Curse

The wind howled low across the Black Desert, dragging waves of black sand like ink seeping through the veins of a dying world.

The Sundered Spire loomed ahead.

Suspended in midair like a monument defying gravity, it hung slanted—tilted slightly forward—half-ruined, half-intact, casting a monstrous shadow on the dunes below. Thick metallic ribs wrapped its jagged stone foundation, remnants of ancient reinforcement now corroded and gleaming faintly under the darkened sky. Several loose chains dangled beneath it, swaying with a slow, mocking rhythm, as though the structure had once been tethered—and someone had severed it mid-ascension.

Auren stared, unmoving. Then he muttered:

"It's not floating."

Jasper blinked.

"Huh?"

"It's being held. Look—there."

Auren pointed at a network of barely visible threads glimmering like starlight against the dark clouds. They weren't natural.

"No Temple just floats on a whim."

Meredith stepped beside them, her hair sweeping past her face as the wind kicked up again. Her tone was flat, factual.

"How… are we entering…?"

Jasper squinted.

"There's bound to be some mechanism to make entry possible like Lost Aviscles had too."

Auren shook his head.

"You could be right, and you could also consider the fact that it's floating for a reason. It could either mean it's damaged or... being kept afloat on purpose. If it's the latter, I don't think whatever mechanism it has will be coming down to meet us here."

Auren paused and glanced up.

"Of course, I could be very much wrong. I'm just logically saying."

The wind whipped again, harsher now, as if the desert itself was warning them away. Above, the Spire hung like a broken promise, its chains swaying like skeletal fingers in a slow dance of decay. The threads holding it shimmered and disappeared in the shifting light, making the entire structure seem to pulse with some hidden life.

Auren wiped away black sands from his face.

"We need to find a way up…"

Jasper kicked at the sand, sending a small plume into the air.

"Indeed Master Auren…"

They stood in silence, three figures dwarfed by the impossible structure above, the Black Desert stretching endlessly around them like a sea of forgotten dreams. The Sundered Spire waited, patient as time itself.

By now, sand curled around their boots, trying to drag them down like a memory. But Auren didn't move.

His eyes traced the Sundered Spire again. It was close enough now to reveal its underside—pillars broken mid-descent, roots of architecture exposed like nerves. The entire thing looked ready to fall apart, yet it hung defiantly in place.

Meredith glanced at both of them and shifted a little bit.

"We could jump…"

Auren gawked.

"You mean leap into the air and pray we don't become red paste across the dunes? Not that I care anyway. I've become a red paste once before."

Jasper tilted his head and chuckled shyly.

"You never fail to amaze me with your strange manner of humor, Master Auren."

He paused, thinking.

"We could use the updrafts."

Meredith and Auren turned toward him.

Jasper pointed toward a narrow ridge nearby, where shards of heat shimmered in the air, rising in columns.

"This part of the desert runs hot. The sand here breathes. The winds under those ridges funnel upward, like geysers. If we time it right, we might launch ourselves high enough to reach the chains hanging beneath the spire."

Jasper chuckled slightly afterward, scratching the back of his head.

"I know it's insane..."

Auren's smile was razor-thin.

"But it'll work."

They moved toward the ridge. Every step came with the crunch of hot glass beneath their soles—black sand heated so violently it had fused in places. Static whispered through the air.

It wasn't far now.

Meredith arrived at the edge first and peered down the slope. Wind howled up from the funnel below, gusts racing with violent pulses that nearly knocked her off balance.

She knelt, running her fingers through the scorched sand, eyes calculating.

Jasper uttered as the young girl's eyes calculated.

"Give it thirty seconds between gusts. That's our window."

He then swallowed a second later, eyeing the chain above.

"We're really doing this?"

Auren raised a brow, looking at him with visible disgust.

"Chicken, you suggested it. Are you having second thoughts now..."

Jasper quickly threw his hands up.

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I just didn't think you'd actually accept my idea..."

Auren frowned a bit.

"Huh? Why wouldn't I? If you speak sense, why wouldn't I accept it?"

He stepped up beside them.

"I'll go first."

He cracked his neck and flexed his arms.

A gust howled beneath them, shaking the ridge.

"Next person better be ready."

The wind calmed.

Then came the pulse.

He ran. His feet thudded over black stone, and the moment the updraft screamed alive again, Auren launched forward. The world dropped away. Heat and wind punched into his frame. The Void coiled in his muscles, propelling him higher.

He shot upward like a thrown blade.

Chains came into view—twisting, swaying, ancient.

Auren reached, grabbed one mid-air, and the impact jolted his shoulders. He gritted his teeth, arms straining against gravity's protest, then heaved himself up onto a fractured support ledge beneath the Spire's belly.

The view from above was merciless.

The desert stretched like a cracked canvas—charred, vast, and resounding with the rush of an eerie storm. The Black Desert was never this lousy when they trekked on it. .

That was wrong.

Jasper launched next. He screamed the whole way up. Somehow, miraculously, he snagged a lower chain and dangled like a terrified fruit for a moment before scrambling up, panting like he'd fought a dragon.

Meredith came last—silent, precise.

She soared like an arrow loosed by a god. No scream. Just wind and motion. Her hand caught the chain closest to Auren's perch, and she climbed smoothly, expression unreadable.

They gathered on the stone lip just beneath what had once been a great archway. Most of the arch had crumbled, leaving jagged teeth and exposed support ribs. A massive iron door, half-rusted, loomed ahead—slightly ajar.

Jasper pushed it gently.

It groaned open.

Inside, silence reigned. The sanctuary interior was lit faintly by glass orbs embedded in the ceiling, glowing with trapped starlight. The floor was a polished mosaic, cracked and faded, but still depicting what seemed like constellations arranged in spirals.

Auren stepped forward first.

Each footfall echoed.

Every part of the place felt like it had been cut off—not destroyed, just... dismembered from the rest of the world.

Jasper muttered as he walked beside the mural.

"I've seen this before. Not the image—but the style. Same as Lost Aviscles. Whoever built this… it wasn't just humans."

Auren's hand found his blade's hilt as he peered deeper into the gloom.

There was a strange presence, wait8ng in the gloomy darkness, nothing could be seen but he could feel it.

He could feel a clawing sensation through the darkness, and so it felt like his skin was being clawed at.

Then Auren's voice sliced through the tension.

"Can any of you feel that?"

Not that he expected them to…

But to his surprise Meredith nodded once. Jasper clutched his satchel closer.

In that instant, the room ahead began to change. The mural on the ground shimmered faintly.

And the walls began to breathe.