Exhausted was a poor word to describe the physical and mental state of Dod Danaël and Evangeline. Ever since the second floor, they'd been facing the same opponents: goblins. 

The one to suffer most was our princess, Evangeline. Although she wasn't involved in hand-to-hand combat, she was a key element in their attack strategy. Just like she did on the second floor, the princess was busy enchanting her fantasia to cast the only spell in her fantastic paraphernalia. 

 Dod and Danaël continued to hold back the goblins, giving the princess time to enchant. Our young teenagers had barely passed the ninth floor. 

 "Princess," began Danaël breathlessly. "How many flaming lasers do you think you have in reserve?" 

 Evangeline sighed tiredly, stretching her arms before jumping onto the platform that would take them to the next floor. 

 "I'm two floors past my limit already, Danaël, I really couldn't tell you, no more than two in my opinion. Beyond that, I faint." 

Danaël lowered his head in despair, his spirits having taken a beating after traversing all those floors. And to think they still had at least forty more to go! Who knows, maybe even more! 

 Danaël hated the unknown, and this dimension was putting his mind to the test. 

"How long has it been since we arrived? A day at least. I'm hungry and getting tired; we don't even have the luxury of stopping. Once a floor has been cleared, it self-destructs; in other words, the dimension forces us forward. If someone's running this place, they've got to be kidding us! No, it doesn't matter anyway, at this point I don't even know if I'd be alive to show him what I'm made of, if such a being existed. Yeah, if he does exist, I'd imagine he's powerful enough to read minds, wouldn't you? So if you can hear me, fuck you! Stupid dimension! ". 

 Then Danaël turned his head to his friend Dod.

 "He doesn't look much better either. At times like this, it's up to me to cheer him up...but there's nothing I can say that I can believe myself. There's no point in lying, and Dod is smart enough to see through it all. So the good thing about all this...is there a good thing? Ah, yes, I suppose that at least now I can feel my fantastic paths a little more clearly, and I can also scratch my neck without triggering my impulse. That's not bad, I've got to find a victory somewhere, don't I? Stress doesn't do me any good anyway, apart from raising my blood sugar and making my hair fall out, it's not productive. Absolutely nothing. Be an optimist, Danaël. 

 Let's recap what I've learned about fantasia. First, there's the impulse, which opens up my fantastic pathways and sets my symbiotic cells in motion. With practice, I've managed to restrain myself from inadvertently triggering the impulse, a bit like a kid learning not to wet the bed. Pretty easy. Secondly, it's possible to concentrate your fantastic mist on a specific part of your body, as Princess Evangeline had told us. It took me a while, but I understand the concept. I know that Dod, for example, cracks his thumb when he wants his fantastic mist only in his hand. It's all about giving yourself intuitive commands in your own brain, and fantasia should follow. Think of the fantastic mist as a muscle receiving a message from a nerve. It's a little mental gymnastics at first, but you get used to it. The trick is to develop distinct intuitive messages and stick to them. For example, I've worked out a fantastic pathway for each of my fingers; lifting a particular finger means concentrating all my fantastic mist in that same finger. So if I spread my five fingers on one hand at the same time, that's the same as concentrating all my fantasia in that same hand, and so on. I'd find it a lot more exciting if I didn't dread dying on every floor". 

The platform had just stopped, and the three teenagers were greeted by a landscape they hadn't seen on any of the previous floors. Danaël's irises contracted, and he had to put his hand in front of his eyes to avoid being blinded. 

 Floor number ten was, firstly, larger than all the previous floors combined and, secondly, Danaël felt, how shall I put it...outside again. 

So far, this dimension had felt like a cage, enclosed, almost no light, and no sign of life, except perhaps the thousands of bloodthirsty goblins on their heels. 

Delicately, Danaël raised his hand and covered his gaze, positioning it on his forehead. A sun, as surprising as it seemed to Danaël, a sun stretched out before them, only the ambient temperature was the same. 

Everything seemed artificial in this dimension, but at least Danaël could feel a gentle, light touch caressing his skin. 

 Clay stretched the length of this floor. The tenth floor was several deserted acres, a desert, and only that light breeze that lightly lifted the clay, leaving an orange dust behind.

Danaël looked to the horizon; crossing this desert wasn't an option, it wasn't what this floor was about. Was it? 

 Dod was the first to set foot on the ground, followed by Danaël, who in turn helped the princess down. The platform disintegrated behind them, and Danaël perceived something he hadn't noticed before. 

About a hundred meters away, a small hill rose, high enough to conceal the row of mud walls that were gradually rising around them. 

Back-to-back, our three companions instinctively decided not to take another step. What was happening before their eyes was spectacular, although this was not Danaël's immediate thought. 

 With an astonishing crash, the ground cracked, giving way to its rammed clay walls rising over sixty meters into the air. Dod hastily put on his hood; the walls now erected had kicked up a dust of clay that hit them like a gust of wind. Danaël instinctively protected the princess with his cape, for she had nothing to cover herself with. 

 His hand slipped around Evangeline's waist and pressed her tightly against him. Under normal circumstances, the princess would have reacted, which Danaël thought as soon as he withdrew his hand immediately, thinking that she would be annoyed. 

 "Thank you very much, dear," she said. 

 The princess remained wrapped under Danaël's cloak, her hand on his chest; she could feel the vibrations of his heart beating wildly. Danaël couldn't have seen it, but the princess closed her eyes and smiled slightly. 

 "Is everything all right, Danaël?" Evangeline asked teasingly. 

 "Hum...yes, yes of course!" He replied, embarrassed. 

For his part, Dod held his throat and sneezed continuously. His eyes turned red, and tears rolled down his cheeks. 

 "And...and nobody asks me if I'm all right? Right?" He cried. 

 "My God, Dod!" Exclaimed the princess. "What's happened to you? What have you done?"

 "What do you mean, what have I done?! Do you think I'm doing this on purpose? I'm clearly allergic to dust!"