Feris was a man with ambition, not for riches or fame, but rather to find out what had happened to one of his closest friends; Crawford, who unlike him, had chosen the life of a treasure hunting rogue, working with many teams and always getting a meager cut of the earnings stemming from two reasons.

For one, he wasn't much of a fighter or survivor so contributions to the workforce from Crawford only ever amounted to being a pack mule for extra baggage and occasionally helping the more illiterate members of the team with deciphering puzzles and the like. While he couldn't read much of the ancient script found dotted in many of the ruins around the searing expanse of the Hoara Badlands, Feris was one of the few individuals that could. Which was why he had always warned his friend to quit while he was ahead, to return to the mainland and resume his studies.

And that would lead into the second reason why Crawford never seemed to earn enough to spare for savings, the earnings were pitiable. What little treasure they found only ever amounted to rusted mugs and empty storehouses alongside derelict libraries filled with the dust of ages and rotted books in such bad condition not even a scholar could find any worth in them. Lured in by the myriad tales of fame and treasure to be found deep beneath the arid sands of the Badlands, Feris was all but certain Crawford was on a slippery road that would ultimately lead to an early end.

Except he didn't actually believe Crawford would meet such a fate, constantly offering silent prayers whenever his friend had vanished on yet another risky venture out into Hoara. And when the dreaded moment finally came when his friend would fail to make a return visit after weeks, and then months had passed, to say Feris was shocked would be an understatement.

But as it turned out, it wasn't just Crawford who had failed to return. After signing a notice of departure with the institute for a lengthy year long leave, Feris had traveled to the desert town where his friend was last seen, discovering that the rest of the men in the party he was with had all gone missing as well, nary a lick of them to be seen or heard, with returning adventurers reporting no signs of Crawford or his team much to their relatives and friends dismay. For many of them, moving on and paying respects was a one and done affair, but for Feris? He just couldn't sit right not knowing what had become of his friend.

Following in the footsteps of Crawford, Feris would volunteer himself to tag along with adventurers, making a name for himself while learning fast hand the rigors his friend had to put himself through just by being out there in the burning Badlands, almost fainting on his first run. But with repeat ventures and offering his talents in deciphering the old texts that would often hide obvious pathways hidden by simple puzzles leading to storage chambers or perfectly preserved archives filled with the knowledge of the ancients. Earning Feris a reputation and a simple moniker; The Scribe based on his profession and the fact he only ever seemed to take books or scraps of paper as his part of the earnings. Items that no sane adventurer would ever choose over golden trinkets, enchanted items and shimmering coins.

With the passing of almost half a year, rumors would soon begin to crop up of a mysterious phenomenon simply called the 'Phantom of The Sands'. Triggered when a team had returned from yet another trek in the Badlands with their most devout member ranting about a 'divine messenger draped in cloths of gold and silk', muttering about their trespassing in holy land and that they were all cursed. Coming so soon after they had earned a big haul from knowledge gained after Feris had taught more than a few savvy men, it had soured the mood greatly, with no one batting an eye when the madman had left screaming into the night, never to be seen again after presumably being ambushed by bandits or served up as a late night snack for whatever creature had been drawn by his hollering.

Soon afterward however, many others would soon begin to report the same sightings of a mysterious figure in the Badlands. Obscured by bouts of sand and the wavering heat, the description of the figure by those who saw it were vague at best with only one conclusion based one similarities in all the various sightings spread out across Hoara;

The Phantom was a woman, but she definitely wasn't human. Ears of a jackal, a lengthy tail, dressed in silk garment and adorned in golden trinkets. None had ever been able to get a better look, but with how consistent the sightings were, any suspicions of heat induced hallucinations were instantly cast aside. This was something that had piqued Feris' interest greatly after months of monotonous ruin crawling with no results to show for it. He cared little for the treasure of literary knowledge he had helped uncover, only until he found traces of Crawford's team would he be able to rest.

And after interviewing each witness and recording only the most reliable information on the whereabouts of the various Phantom sightings, Feris had quickly managed to single out a circular expanse, feeling a tinge of excitement in his heart. Maybe this was the lead he had been hoping for all this time!

With all the sightings going on followed by rumors of dark omens when people began to disappear much like Crawford's team before them, no one was willing to venture too far out into the Hoara Badlands, forcing Feris to prepare for his greatest trial yet, packing enough supplies on a pack mule enough for two trips back and forth to where he needed to go.

And sure enough after crossing over the point of no return and into the red circle he had marked out on the map, Feris would soon glean his first sighting of the Phantom of the Sands.

It was in the dead of night, after being roused from his slumber by a wayward desert rat, the man had been initially startled by the silhouette of a feminine figure standing right outside his tent, matching the descriptions he remembered in the eyewitnesses tales; furry tail, the body of a buxom bar wench, long pointy ears atop her head, a bundled mane of hair and draped in long flowing silk. But never before had they spoken of a close encounter like this, she was close enough to make out the curves of her assets and the soft gentle wisps of a woman's breath in the wind. With the missing people in mind, Feris' hand reaches for the saber at his side before rolling out of the tent with his fangs bared.

Only to find no one outside, looking around in shock before his eyes catch sight of the Phantom now far off in the distance, standing still atop a dune with her back silhouetted against the moon, giving the awestruck Feris a good look at a beautiful face with stunning crimson irises leering at him, as if beckoning him closer.

Before a rogue blast of sand carried on strong winds blinds Feris, giving the Phantom plentiful seconds with which to vanish once more by the time the scholar had wiped the specks from his eyes. But with a few hours worth of travel to reach that big red dot, he was certain whoever this Phantom was, he would soon get to know a lot more about soon enough.

Leaving his camp where it stood with the arrival of the first light of dawn before packing whatever else was necessary with his saber at the ready, Feris sets out with the mule, trudging out into the sands with his heart full of hope.

And with effort came a reward in the form of a deep gash in the sands, leading down into a visible man made structure with architecture of the previous civilization that had made all the other ruins scattered across the Badlands. But this one was different, showing signs of recent tampering in the form of newly installed supports and structures, as if someone or maybe even a group with the skills to replicate the intricate carvings and solid construction of the architects, blacksmiths and carpenters of old had moved in with the intent to rebuild the place. But besides his, there were no prints in the sand leading down into the yawning abyss below. Then again, if this really was the lair of the Phantom, it would make sense for there to be no tracks leading back here judging from the fact that she seemed capable of using teleportation magic, a rare commodity.

Swallowing his fears, Feris ventures deeper, setting foot on the solid sandstone floor of the subterranean ruins proper,  but not before tying the mule up against a broken pole showing signs of someone else using it for similar purposes a long time ago. Whether it was these new inhabitants, Feris figured his questions would be answered once he ventured deeper inside to make contact, already hearing distant bangs and clangs of what sounded like hammers at work.

Sure enough, the darkness begins to peel away in the presence of lit scones hanging off the walls, complete with hanging braziers above burning with strong golden flames, as strong as the ringing of hammers and stones bouncing off the walls and into his ears, turning the last corner to find a familiar figure standing to attention as if they'd been waiting for his arrival, a figure that sadly wasn't Crawford.

But it was someone that could help him him figure out what had become of his friend as the Phantom herself, bearing a strange staff with a crooked end and tipped with a shimmering golden head reminiscent of a spearhead held lightly behind her back, smiling broadly with her red eyes as clear as they were last night staring right into his own, approaching slowly with the air of a mischievous child about her.

Her choice of clothes however, was anything but childish;  consisting of a flimsy loincloth dangling down over her exposed crotch, hugged tightly by a one piece dress with fur like extensions protruding down the hem of it. But the term 'dress' could only be used lightly here when said dress had a large cutout explains the woman's tight, supple core lined with a criminally sexy amount of muscle and fat, with creamy, chocolate brown skin catching the light in entrancing ways to draw Feris' eyes toward her modest bosom, above which sits an attractive face with keen eyes and soft luscious hair framing it all, realizing those ears really were actual jackal ears as he watches the ash gray appendages twitch and flutter like the wings of a butterfly, as if picking up on every sound he made. But now wasn't the time to ogle a woman from another culture. Averting his eyes from the scantily clad woman before he started acting up, Feris returns her curt bow before being graced by an energetic voice dripping with salacious undertones and speaking perfectly fluent English much to his surprise.

"Welcome traveler, I've been watching you for quite awhile now~ Oh? You ask how I of the old world am able to speak your tongue? Why it's only possible because of the Master! He was once a man of this age before…passing…the trials required of one worthy enough to sit the throne. Now he resides here with me…and with all the others, instructing us to rebuild this once magnificent palace. Come, let me show you around!"

Left to stand still in shock with his eyes inadvertently wandering over to the Phantom's shapely ass swaying nonchalantly before him with her bushy tail wagging excitedly in the air while her heels clop noisily against the sandy floor, Feris recomposes himself before processing the flood of new information the jackal girl had dumped on him. So there was a new Master? And it was someone from this day and age? If so then that meant there could be others here, like say Crawford and all the other missing folk!

Or maybe this strange new group far out in the Hoara were responsible for kidnapping them…

Keeping his hopes at an acceptable level while keeping his guard up, Feris takes one last glance around the entrance hall with a natural opening far above acting as a skylight of sorts in an effort to make sure he hadn't missed a thing before following along, wondering how such a huge hole had gone unnoticed for so long before giving up and refocusing his efforts on looking out for traces of Crawford in this mysterious place. Things just weren't making sense here.

Catching up with the Phantom right before they were set to enter a massive room however, the lady suddenly turns on her heels with a slight hint of seriousness on her face.

"Before we proceed any further sir, I must insist you leave your weapon here for the safety of my sisters and the Master himself…if anything were to befall him under my watch as his sworn attendant it would be an incredible shame...unless of course, you want to have dear old me personally relieve you of it?"

Hoping to avoid any conflict and misunderstandings that might sour relations between the outside world and this isolated pocket of an ancient civilization, Feris acquiesces to her demand, drawing his saber before flipping it over hilt first toward the Phantom, marveling at the make of the weapon as she grips it gently in a single hand before tiring of it, continuing on her way before handing it over to another girl sporting similar ebony brown skin without the Phantom's beastial features with an even more horrendous getup consisting of straps for a top and a simple black rubbery plaster encasing her privates, showing no signs of embarrassment as she steps out of the shadows bordering the entrance into this new section of the underground structure, carrying the saber to destinations unknown. But Feris' weapon was the least of his concerns right now, especially when he had an amazing sight to marvel at before him; a ruined library, but one in the midst of an intensive effort to restore it to its former grandeur with a variety of women all dressed in the same nudist attire like the one at the entrance working on each of the three separate floors cleaning, repairing and reordering pristine stone times and tablets into their respective shelves. Casting nary a glance at the newcomers as they all worked in relative silence besides the occasional clang of hammers against steel and stone.

Among them however, Feris could make out a few sporting animals ears and tails much like his escort, but less grand in terms of size and scale, with small ears and equally tiny tails that weren't as voluminous as hers were.

And high up above casting an iridescent glow over the entire place was a floating body of water suspended over the library by some unknown force, presumably magic. Filtering the sunlight through into an ever changing spot light that shone just as bright as it would on the surface. Casting a dumb look on Feris' face that had the Phantom laughing in a sweet voice…but he couldn't keep calling her Phantom, and she didn't need to keep being so high strung around him either.

"You must forgive me sir, your face just looked so funny then that I couldn't….huh? My name? It isn't customary for us Jackalkin to reveal our names to those not close to the Master but…something inside me likes you human. Aniya,  you may call me Aniya…and you are? You can’t expect us to be formal without me knowing yours, do you?"

Upon exchanging his own upon hearing her invitation to do so however, Feris instantly feels a heavy foreboding aura take hold of Aniya as if a very critical memory had flashed past her mind at the mention of his name, noticing a glimmer in her crimson irises while her ears flex and stretch, as if contemplating, pleading with an unseen individual while muttering his name on repeat under her breath like a mantra.

Before seemingly coming to her senses as if nothing was wrong, giggling as she cocks her to the side with a cutesy pose, walking off with a sidelong glance directed at Feris, thumping her bushy tail against the floor in a strange display of eagerness as far as the skeptical scholar could tell from past experiences with canines as rude as it sounded.

"Apologies for that…Feris…your name rings close to home so you must understand the effect that has on emotional individuals such as myself. Come, I must absolutely take you to see the Master, but before we are able to, there's just one wee thing we need to take care of…"

Walking off in that carefree way once again while leaving Feris behind, the poor man hurries on past the many sisters doing their jobs around the place before catching sight of one of them leaned up against a stone bench almost as if she was resting…or at least that was what Feris would've been comfortable with assuming were it not for the way her posture suggested she had been forced up against the wall, and with her slender legs spread apart in a suggestive way with a dried trail emanating from between them down the stone she rested her shapely derriere upon? Feris had hurried on ahead then, rather not wanting to question their strange practices.

But if only he had looked closer, he would have found some strange hint of sadness in the woman's empty red eyes along with the trinket clenched tightly in her hands, bearing the mark of the Goddess upon it with a chain link holding the necklace together.

The same necklace that belonged to the man the town had willingly let go off before everyone started seeing the Phantom of the Sands.

And as he continued down the many rows of shelves listening attentively to Aniya who was busy reciting the past glories of the golden age to her guest, the idle woman would soon stumble to her feet, casting one final glance at the doomed scholar before picking up a stack of books by her side, leaving her necklace behind as she heads to work…

Strolling silently alongside Aniya down a spacious, well lit corridor before pushing open a set of ornate doors that stood apart from the others, Feris sets foot in a spacious bedchamber complete with another skylight above illuminating the place, casting the illusion of a master bedroom in an illustrious palace instead of a chamber far underground, wondering just what other feats these people were capable of.

Before Aniya directs his attention with a noisy rumble of her throat, bowing with a hand held towards yet another door built into the other end of the room.

"The Master has yet to arrive, but before we…or rather you meet him, a shower is required to ensure all guests are presentable before him…I'm sure you'd love to get the sand out from between your toes wouldn't you Feris?"

While he was a little suspicious, Feris shrugs his shoulders, accepting Aniya's offer in fear of accidentally offending her. Reminding himself of his original intentions to seek out the mystery behind the Phantom.

"Your missing companion? Ahh, you must mean the other guests already being tended to by the Master. 'What do I mean', you ask? Why don't you find out yourself? I'll be waiting here for you whenever you're ready to present yourself Feris, I assure you it'll be a most pleasant meeting indeed~"

He should've felt relieved, but Aniya's words had been just vague enough for Feris to have his reservations about fully placing his trust in the Jackalkin's words. But if the only thing left standing between him and Crawford was a simple bath, then he might as well get it over with. After all, there was still the possibility that he was overthinking things and this was simply the way Aniya's people behaved all those years ago.

But before he could ask how she had come to be if her Master was a man of this era, the door was already shut behind him, leaving him alone in a room that was way too big to be called a bath, making Felis feel a slight tinge of guilt for having it all for himself. Just like the well kept bedroom just outside, it was easy to tell where the heart of the restoration efforts had begun with how spotless everything was; from the sandstone tiles to the implements jutting out of the walls, not to mention the azure blue waters glowing with a pale green glow presumably being fed by an underground spring. This place looked like it was built just a day ago instead of being part of an ancient subterranean construct built by the wisdom of a bygone era.

Disrobing slowly before folding his clothes neatly into a pile before placing them over the extrusion in the wall he had assumed to be a makeshift table of sorts, Feris wastes no time in approaching the steamy blue water, dipping his toes inside before submerging his lower half in the enriching pool, unable to help himself as a relaxed sigh flows out of his mouth. Whatever was in the water was making him feel giddy, the positive sort of giddy one might feel when being massaged, or hitting the hay after a hectic day spent crawling over ruins. If he didn't know any better, he would've simply flopped over and let himself simmer in this heavenly broth for a week or two.

Before something bumps against his bare chest, looking down to see a floating trinket bobbing across the surface of the water; a glimmering necklace with heavy, crude cut stones of pure gold linked together with a strange symbol in the shape of a circle meshed together with a curved cross meticulously shaped and lined with miniscule patterns across its length to complete the piece. Common sense would tell him to admire it from a distance, but something within him was urging him to pick it up and sling it around his neck; to feel the warm nibble of heated gold on his skin, the luxury of wearing such a thing. And with each passing second, that urge was only growing stronger, chipping away at his psyche, deteriorating his analytical mind with an instinctual need for self gratification.

And so he gives in, grasping ahold of the seemingly innocuous necklace in both hands with a valid smile on his face before putting it on, sinking even deeper into the water until it laps away at his neck while his empty blue eyes fill with an ominous crimson glow. The start of a process that would leave him forever changed…

Beginning with Feris' neckline, a coffee brown tint begins to spread across his skin, turning the sunburnt tan into a creamy smooth layer of chocolate without a hint of scarring or imperfection wherever it touched like a living wave, digesting muscle and leaving behind toned flesh packed with a supple layer of fat to lend that tantalizing curve many a man looked for in their women, leaving the trained scholars arms as nothing more than petite branches tapering off in dainty hands tipped with dexterous fingers, twitching ever so slightly in the water as a pleasant tingle begins to radiate outward from Feris' chest formerly chiseled chest, which was already beginning to sag and bloat into a generous pair of mammaries, pumped with firm meat and nerves that waste no time in filling them in further with the sweet nectar of mother's milk.

By the time an effeminate giggle slips free from Feris' fuller lips, a hefty yet firm set of D cup breasts were rising and falling with each labored breath from the stupefied scholar, blissfully unaware of the sensitive teats that had taken the place of his hard earned pecs from his half a year stay in the Hoaran town, as if it had little time to spare however, his abs would soon follow suit once the visible wave of change swarms over his hardened navel, consuming it with painful cracks and snaps of bone, reshaping the gaunt structure of his torso and hips into a much more compact and curvier frame; a tighter waistline leading down to the expanded girth of perfect handlebars lined with soft fat framing a tender belly with a cute belly button in the middle as lean layers of muscle beneath flex erotically in the face of new organs bubbling to life beneath, adding on to the growing pleasure coursing through Feris' body as his spine arches inward, letting loose a womanly gasp of pleasure right before his face becomes twisted, stunting his cries with the melting of his eyelids before they pop open once more in sleek serpentine slits lined with silky lashes between a lean nose lending the love Goddess's visage a mature air to it in tune with his crew cut extending downward in luscious locks of pale silver hair that curls inward as if to draw focus toward the gorgeous face in the middle. All while the creeping change entwines itself around his resistant pecker, standing tall before the brown mass slides itself into its tip, sending a mind blowing wave through Feris' trashing body, sending waves of water flying everywhere as he throws his head back while letting loose a guttural moan devoid of emotion leaning more towards shock. Eyes rolled back up into his head and a long, pink tongue swaying lazily in the air with saliva trailing a slim jawline.

By this point, the figure in the baths twitching and contorting in the throes of ecstasy was no longer the same naive scholar that had wandered in only minutes prior. Slamming her ass against the floor of the pool while it inflates into a slappable heart shaped cushion in tune to the remains of a flaccid member slowly receding back up inside the sputtering folds of a vagina widening between fattened thighs, completing the first stage of Feris' transformation just as the newborn woman experiences her first orgasm, bracing herself against the walls of the pool while spreading her long curvy legs apart to let loose a generous spray of ejaculate into the soothing waters, gasping in the aftermath, panting like a dog while basking in the tingling sensation of the waters warmth caressing her twitching folds like a million tiny fingers probing away at the sensitive nub of flesh her penis had been reduced to. Not like she cared much at this point as the necklace's magic begins to tweak and prod at her vulnerable brain, archiving memories, installing new ones, hotwiring her loyalties and warping thought patterns, suppressing any sparks of resistance with a thorough blast of pleasure inducing hormones pumping through her body with the aid of her new ovaries, stimulating her sore areola and throbbing labia even further than they already were.

Despite the overwhelming odds and her body already lost, what little was left of Feris' mind was struggling to hold on to existence against this terrifying magic, trying to remember her past as an ace student at her hometown. The experience of an adventurer out in the Hoara Badlands. But as her neck cranes downward with her blurry eyes catching sight of her new reflection, conflicting thoughts begin to pop into mind, overpowering her sense of self the longer she stares into her own empty eyes. With a voluptuous and flexible body built not for combat but pleasing her Master with every act possible in bed, how could she have ever been an adventurer? And with a mind tuned specifically to every need her Master might have alongside an extensive knowledge in the carnal arts necessary of a concubine like her, acing studious subjects seemed like a far off dream to her. And to top it all off, why would she ever be concerned about anyone besides the Master? If anything, only Sister Aniya mattered as much as the Master meant to her, and that was the only exception she was willing to make, the only exception she now had firmly ingrained in her freshly sculpted mind. Wiped clean of Feris in time for the radiant horns of a ram to finish growing out of the sides of her skull, complete with a cute pair of furry ears twitching just below them.

Blinking a few times with the light of consciousness returning to her eyes, Yaniya rises to her full height, exiting the bath with her graceful, nubile body washed clean of the mud that had been the unwitting human man used to give her shape, sauntering over to where she had remembered her clothes to be; donning an extravagant black swimsuit that chafes against her sensitive skin and supple flesh before clipping on earrings, donning bracelets, snapping on golden bangles and wrapping herself up in a transparent cloth that only serves to accentuate her sex appeal rather than offer her any shred of decency. She was no mere human any more, and while her sister may have been Jackalkin, Minotaurs like herself were famed for their endurance and stamina. Whenever Aniya was too busy overseeing repairs and scouting potential converts, Yaniya would be there to satiate their Master's unquenchable thirst and rather peculiar reverence of dominating women, it was his very thought that shaped her appearance, so Yaniya felt no surprise when a need to be the central focus of whatever room she was in began to bloom in her mind, instead she felt good, really good, licking her lips as domineering thoughts begin to fill her mind, to prove she was better in every single way. While she still loved her sister as much as she did the Master, a sense of competition was also taking root alongside that familial love.

And speaking of love…she could already hear the faint sounds of her sister's maddened screams of pleasure emanating from behind the door alongside the tormented creaking of the bed accompanied by the occasional grunts of the Master himself. So he had finally returned, and just in time for Yaniya to present herself to him.

Making her exit with stilettos in hand, Yaniya pushes open the door to the bedroom, eager to join in on the fun and show her two loved ones just what it meant when it came to romantic trysts in bed, letting her clothes fall to the floor alongside her heels until only her swimsuit was left hugging her buxom figure, purring like a tiger as she leaps over onto the sheets, pushing a surprised Aniya to the side and wasting no time in straddling the Master for herself, plunging his still erect member dripping with her sisters juices into her own eager snatch, stifling a moan while pressing her hands into the burly chest below her.

"Good evening Master, I am Yaniya, younger sister to Aniya…oh you silly little thing, just what do you think you're-ah!"

Despite her memories informing her of her sister's submissive tendency, Yaniya was not prepared for her eldest sister assaulting her horns, using them like handlebars while biting into her aching breast like a hungry babe. Feeling her moist innards clench around her Master's hardening member, spurred on by her resistant face struggling to remain the dominant one in this heated threesome.

But while the battle raged on far underground in the heart of the Badlands, the people back at Feris' school would mark him as a dropout for failing to return in the stipulated time allotted to him, unaware that no such individual existed anymore on the face of the earth. Instead Yaniya would lead a fulfilling life of bliss with her sister and Master, coddling the latter when they were alone and struggling to entertain both when they were together. She was happy, and that was all she needed…

THE END