dragons.
With a sickly skinny torso and long, rigid limbs that looked like they’d been made with jagged bones, the creatures were almost a mockery of humankind. The creature’s egg-shaped head—hairless at the top with a smile made of serrated teeth and eyes that were perfect circles of white light—made Angelique shiver with disgust and a shade of fear.
The white light in its eyeballs wasn’t nice or warm—but the sterile white of a fire that would never stop hungering for more.
What is this thing? I’ve never seen anything like it!
Before she could react, Fritz threw his sword, stabbing through the creature’s chest. Its body changed from solid to smoke before it faded away—its eyes disappearing last.
Angelique narrowed her eyes as she felt the faintest trace of magic. What are these things?
Fritz grabbed a sword off one of the many weapon racks and thrust his sword through a shattered window—presumedly running another creature through if the hissing and sputtering gurgles were anything to go by.
The ox warrior, Gregori, yanked a crossbow off the wall and loaded it with a bolt. He casually shot at one of the magic monsters that was half through the window, turning it into smoke. “I’ve never seen anything like these…creatures before.”
As the warriors cut more of the monsters down, Angelique felt the continued trickle of magic.
They’re not living creatures under a black mage’s control—they wouldn’t fade in this way. That means they’re a construct or created by spells—though I’ve never seen a spell that could make something like this.
Angelique tried to track the magic, but it was too fast and foreign for her to make any sense of it. “They’re not creatures. They’re magic constructs. That’s why they fade when the magic is interrupted.”
Oswald skipped the stairs and leapt over the loft railing, landing in a crouch. Rupert also made the jump, though he rolled when he landed, bringing him closer to Angelique and Snow White.
“Gregori,” Oswald hollered. “Saber!”
Gregori ripped a saber from the wall and flung it at Oswald.
Oswald snatched it from the air and lunged at the closest window, making quick work of the construct climbing through.
Marzell didn’t copy his brash companions’ actions—he rushed down the staircase, his hair and clothes sloppy. “What’s going on?”
“Unknown number of these constructs,” Fritz started, using the least amount of words possible. He pointed to a construct that pushed its head through a window before Gregori shot it, turning it into smoke that dissolved in the shadow of night. “Attacking the cottage,” Fritz finished.
Marzell grabbed his weapon of choice—a long, tasseled whip. “Plug up some of the windows.”
“Oh, sure. We’ll get right on that!” Oswald glared at his friend as he ran for a different window, pouncing on a construct that had half-dragged itself into the cottage.
Aldelbert marched down the stairs, his clothes as fresh as the brilliant smile settled on his lips. “These monsters are that excited to see my handsome face, are they?”
A construct tried to grab him, but he dodged it with a hearty laugh and picked up a rough, wooden shield. He placed it over one of the broken window panes—casually smashing and destroying a construct that had started to poke its head through—and peered back over his shoulder. “Might anyone fetch me some nails? Oh—and a hammer!”
Angelique only half listened—she was trying to weigh out just how dire the situation was.
I’m not quite sure how we can get these constructs to retreat. The easiest way to defeat constructs is to knock their creator out, but I’m not feeling any magical force outside the cottage, and powering constructs would be impossible to miss. That means our only option is to end them all.
She stabbed a construct that made it through the window, the blade of her dagger digging deep into the creature’s flesh. She shivered when the construct dissolved into smoke and evaporated.
Whatever this is…it must be among the darkest of black magic. Carabosso and the other black mages I’ve met have dark magic that feels wrong, but this…this is a totally different level.
Sequestered in the rafters where he had an excellent vantage point, Wendal threw a handful of daggers at a construct that was chasing Snow White, hitting it with deadly accuracy so it turned into a curl of smoke before it could harm the princess.
“I’m still waiting for that hammer and nails,” Aldelbert said, sounding slightly put-out.
Oswald snarled as he stabbed another construct trying to get through the window. “Wait until you die of old age. They aren’t coming!”
“Fine.” Aldelbert sighed in great