503. Rising Smoke (Patreon)

Eleanor was wrong; the man convulsing before their feet was not a shapeshifter, cursed to transform into some manner of smoke creature. Watching the fell monster fly towards him, Martel dearly wished she had been right.

Swiftly, he pulled out his golden dagger and tossed it to Eleanor. It was the only physical weapon they had between the three of them that stood any chance of hurting the creature. Displaying no signs of fear, only determination, the two mageknights took position next to each other and raised their blades, aimed at the monster.

Martel knew he should already be slinging spells, but he looked down at the blue-clad man before his feet. If he died, would the creature disappear? If he had summoned it, would his death banish it? For a moment, Martel considered whether he ought to kill the defenceless man, and if that would save his friends and himself from this nightmarish creature.

Killing someone in a fight was one thing; cutting the throat of a man incapacitated was something else. Straightening up, Martel pulled water from the surrounding air to form an elemental bolt and flung it at the monster. He recalled his discussions about its nature with Master Fenrick; if it truly was a jinni, air and earth would be its domain. He needed the opposite elements to hurt it.

The spell struck the shadow creature where its chest would be; it halted for a moment before it continued to fly forward. Reaching the mageknights, both of its arms lashed out to strike them like clubs. They each took a blow on their shoulders, pushing them up against the walls of the surrounding warehouses.

Martel unleashed another water bolt, desperately hoping he was not wrong about its nature. Red eyes set in the face of smoke turned towards him, and a shadowy arm lashed out, becoming twice as long to strike Martel on his chest and knock him back.

The monster floated forward until it had reached the man in blue on the ground, still convulsing. It reached down a tendril of smoke to wrap around his head. Shocked, Martel realised that rather than save the supposed maleficar, the monster was choking him to death.

A gold-edged dagger slashed through the shadowy limb to sever it, and the suffocating smoke dissipated. The monster seemed to shake, the contours of its body becoming blurry; if it felt pain, maybe it would have screamed. Its flaming red eyes turned towards Eleanor. A regrown arm of shadow lashed out to throw her once more up against the wall.

From the other side, Maximilian's sword cut through the creature, but it looked as if the blade simply passed through air. Getting back on his feet, Martel unleashed another water bolt. He still had spellpower enough for a handful more, but whether they could bring down the creature was another question. The golden dagger seemed the only thing truly effective at harming the monster.

It seemed to have reached the same conclusion; ignoring both Maximilian and Martel, it hovered over Eleanor and wrapped its smoke tendrils around her. Her eyes shot open, and it looked as if she wanted to scream. But neither sound nor air could pass her lips.

Terror flooded Martel's mind, as he stepped over the body of the fallen man to approach the dreaded beast. Acting on pure instinct, he cast the strongest spell he knew. Lightning surged from him to envelop the terrible creature's shadowy form. For a moment, its shape became blurred before it reasserted itself. Still, it continued to strangle the very life out of his closest friend, and all his magic seemed powerless to stop it.

The creature seemed to shake and dropped its hold on Eleanor. It turned around to stare at Maximilian, who had grabbed the golden dagger from her hand and used it to stab their dreadful enemy. As Eleanor sank to the ground, wheezing and gasping for breath, Maximilian struck again.

Whatever the effects and damage to the monster, it was insufficient. Its limbs reached out to grab Maximilian by the arms and hoist him into the air. Immobilised, the mageknight could make no further attacks nor defend himself as the creature once more sent tendrils out to envelop and strangulate him.

Tears in his eyes, Martel released spell after spell. Nothing seemed to work. His friends were dying, and he could do nothing to stop it.

Without warning, the creature released its hold on Maximilian and flew across the alley to slam against the wall. Its shadowy limbs extended in every direction as if strung up by chains invisible to the naked eye – but not for those with magical sight. Magical coils surrounded the monster; Martel followed them with his gaze, turning his head to look behind him down on the ground.

The man in blue lay propped up on one elbow to support himself, his free hand stretched out at the fell creature in their midst. Tendrils of pure power extended from his fingertips to keep it bound. With a strained expression, he got on his feet and extended his other hand to point at the monster as well. Closing both of them into fists, he pulled them apart as if snapping an invisible twig. The shadowy form of the beast seemed to fall apart as well, and finally, it vanished.

Coughing and snapping for breath, the mageknights got on their feet and joined Martel as all three stared at the unknown mage in their midst. As for him, he looked worn far beyond his years, and exhausted to the point where he seemed ready to drop. But as he spoke, his voice was steady. His words sounded familiar to Martel, yet not in a language that he mastered.

"Archean," Eleanor breathed. "He is speaking Archean."

The man took a deep breath. "You are Asterian," he declared, switching to that language. "In that case, I greet you again. You have freed me from my curse." He placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head. "Atreus the Spellbreaker is in your debt."

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Martel's character sheet (no change).