Innocent Creatures of Purity and Grace (Josiah/NPC

[Josiah Gray]

The poachers crept slowly into the woods, closing in on the dust cloud that the falling dragon had created. Weapons were held level, eager to fire at the first sign of the wounded beast. The orc didn't follow. The others spread out as the dust began to settle, the air clearing for them to see proper. Each covered a segment of the woods like a formal search party - a product of their mercenary training.

But Josiah and Lord, they had training, too.

It took the search party half a minute to realize the woods they were searching had no crash zone. There were no destroyed trees, and not so much as a broken limb. The ground that should have been scarred with the impact, was completely unmarred. But the earth had shaken, and the dust had exploded as if the dragon had crashed.

A clawed white hand grabbed one of the poacher's mouths, a second hand pressing into his armored back. There was a brief snap of electricity through his nerves, and then his body hit the ground.

"Hey, what was that?" one of the poachers asked aloud, attention caught by the noise. A few turned, facing the origin and noticing their comrade missing in action. The shrubbery shook as if with the passage of a beast low to the ground, and the hunters fired their weapons. They fell for the diversion, and caught only branches and air.

The clothed dragon, in humanoid shape, phased out of the earth behind one of the mercenaries and repeated the electrical takedown. They heard, but he sunk into the ground again, flying through the earth below where he felt another poacher stood, panicking over falling allies.

He rose up again, hands ready. The poacher spun around at the last moment in a paranoid fright. Lord jumped forward, phasing past him. The crossbow was through his chest before it fired, and the bolt sailed harmlessly through the woods. The dragon shifted solid as soon as he was on the other side, and the tangible tail wrapped around the poacher's legs while he was still moving.

The tail tugged with his forward motion, and the poacher dropped as his legs went out from under him. Subtlety was gone with him, the humanoid dragon running on all fours with the poacher dragged behind him. The tail pulled him in the path of a tree before letting go, letting the tree do the work of knocking him out. Then he leapt forward to smash what last few poachers remained.

A pulse of sound blasted him out of the air, a familiar tolling bell going with it. The dragon phased through a tree so as not to break through it. Claws gouged out the ground beneath him as a makeshift brake, and then he threw himself forward again. Lightning shot from his hands, shooting down approaching nets. Another pulse lanced towards him through the woods, and this time he wasn't fast enough.

Wood exploded as the scaled body crashed through it. The three remaining poachers moved in closer together, weapons prepared for the enemy they knew wouldn't be finished.

Dirt and plant life detonated and showered them with small projectiles as the dragon rose up, eyes and mouth raging with a blue light.

"I am trying to make this quick and nice and you are NOT HELPING!"

[Hermia]

Little boys, Hermia thought grimly as another bullet whizzed between her ears. Little boys, playing with their guns.

One the one hand, she'd made them angry. The sight of a comrade writhing and slapping himself while winged things squirmed from his nostrils and flew back in his face was sure to drive the unprepared straight into "shoot to kill" mode. No fancy traps, no nets, and most intricate spells would have flown right out their heads.

On the other hand... she'd made them angry.

The Fetch, from its precarious roost above her shoulders, saw a heavy gun with two broad barrels in rough hands that pumped the handgrip back, priming it to fire. It saw the poacher plant his feet, raise the shotgun and vanish.

She was already dropping, falling through solid earth before the thunderclap hammered a spray of bullets into the thin air where she'd been. She was already rising, leaping back through the surface, before the yelled curse left the frustrated man's lips.

"Stabilire!" She yelled, guiding the spell toward her own feet with a wave of her hand. Then, with her wand aimed at point blank into the poacher's stomach, "Aqua Eructo!"

The backlash jolted her, but the stabilizing charm kept her body and hand in position. A gushing torrent struck the man like an iron fist. He teleported again, a split moment too late, and reappeared behind her back where his presence was announced with a loud, retching heave and her Fetch threw itself onto his doubled-over form to commence the mauling.

Water continued streaming at high pressure, amplified by the magic in her wand. It was a simple matter of pointing her arm out and sweeping it back and forth to churn the ground into a quagmire and bowl another poacher over with the jet.

An angry yell. The same female voice as before. Fire roared at her, dragon heads with jaws agape arcing sideways and overhead at uneven speeds and different angles.

A sweep of her water jet caught the first. A hurried "Incolumis" reduced the devouring heat of the second blast to sweltering levels. Third and fourth wasted the last of the charm that helped her hold her ground. The fifth dragon-head soared over her, struck her Fetch and reduced straw and mangled poacher to smoldering dead matter.

The sixth blast struck her middle, drove the wind out of her lungs and launched her into the mud a few yards away.

...ow, Was her first coherent thought. Kill them all. Kill them. Kill. And at last, as she dragged her first breath of air back in, she noticed the wind had changed direction, blanketing the world around her in thick fog.

"Can't see - you and your damned explosive -"

"And why couldn't you just shoot it with your fancy gun?"

""Corpores revelio," she muttered a second time, letting the sound of the argument hide her voice. She saw three figures left, one shaped like a female, one of them with the hound's helmet.

" - about your motion sensors -"

"Not in a fog this thick -"

The woman was chanting again. Almost definitely the spellcaster. Hermia raised her wand and breathed in deep, concentrated on the feeling of the magic boosting potion running through her system and imagined it all flowing into her wand hand. "FULMINARIS!"

The air sizzled and crackled and boiled the fog away in the aftermath of the deafening lightning strike.

One twitching corpse hit the ground, smoke rising from the scorch in its middle.

Everything happened very quickly after that.

The unidentified third figure raised a pistol, held steady in two hands. She couldn't hear the bark of the gun when her ears were still ringing, but Hermia was still able to tell when the first bullet pierced her thigh and the second got her shoulder.

The hound-armored poacher raised his arm again. A red dot of light winked in warning.

The unicorn foal barreled into the armored suit, throwing the gauntlet wide. A deadly metal bead zoomed harmlessly into the sky.

A feral snarl pulled the pistoleer away from his next shot. He swivelled in time to get a faceful of hissing, clawing, flame-spewing Asagi salamander.

Hermia's knees hit the ground. She pressed both hands down over her wounded thigh, trying to remember a good healing spell.

"You're grounded!" She yelled at her saviors, force of habit taking over. "You're both grounded!"

[Josiah Gray]

"Fine!" the foe exclaimed, throwing his shortsword point first into the ground. "If a blade will not kill you, then I'll go back to incinerating you!!"

The dark elf lashed out, screaming in the unknown language as swirling fire was thrown from his hand. It screamed through the air at its target, explosive death given form through the magic in his veins. Josiah didn't move. His eyes glowed with the same blue light as before, and the snow around his legs rose up on one side.

The fireball exploded in a great blast, smoke quickly replacing the red hot embers on the air. A gust of wind circled around the young mage and blew it away, revealing him still standing behind the half barrier. The snow that made it up relaxed and fell back down into the swirl around him.

All other thoughts were pushed out of Josiah's mind. There were no more distractions. There was focus. There was the dark elf, and there was him. He could win if he focused, if he pushed. He knew it. He had to dig down deep, and push past what was safe, but he knew/

Screaming the words again, the wizard threw his mystic flares at the young one as fast as he could.

"You are a nuisance! You are a nuisance!!" the elf screamed amid the bombardment. "A pest! A cretin!"

With the speed of his eyes, snow moved at Josiah's control, darting in the way of first one blast, then another, then another - a frozen blockade against each fireball, defying the natural order to melt in the face of heat.

"You are ruining a highly calculated operation!" the elf shouted as he drew both his hands, palms close together. Snow packed itself into spheres around Josiah's body, and shot themselves at the dark elf like bullets. Firey shields reappeared even as the wizard strung together one word after another after another. He was calling up a long sentence of magic, and all the energy he had to go with it.

The wizard's ash-skinned hands thrust them forward together, and a pillar of fire shot forth from between outstretched fingertips, so ferocious it was practically a solid beam of radiant destruction. The whole world glowed around them for the brightness of it, and made every shadow stretch out to black.

The white of the landscape rose up between them, forming a solid bank. The raging flames rammed against it like a piston, the force of it breaking down resistance bit by bit. The blue aura grew brighter around the young mage, one of his own hands lifting up in front of him. More of the enchanted snow rushed in to brace the barrier, adding more to the magic winter wall as fast as it was destroyed.

"I am the Blue Mage, Dragon Knight Josiah," the young man shouted over roaring dragon's breath. "And whatever I may be -!"

Arms swung out to either side, and the storm's remnants shot upwards like a breaking wave, an avalanche reaching high before it crashed down. It engulfed flames first, and didn't stop, taking the dark elf with it. The great surge kept going with so much momentum, rolling powdery white churning forward into the trees and smashing them, demolishing them in its path with the wizard still clutched in its grasp.

The young mage stood where he was, but just barely. His chest heaved with an urgent need for air. Marble skin became simply pale as flesh returned to normal, though mental injury remained. He clutched at his forehead as it pounded in revenge, then quickly clutched lower at a nose that started to bleed red onto the white flecked ground.

Legs gave out from under him, and he unceremoniously landed on his rump. He stayed there a moment more to catch his breath, and not simply because he didn't have the strength yet. He pushed hard enough through the raging headache, to sense for the dark elf under the snow. Injury enough had knocked him unconscious - and Josiah did just a bit more, telepathically, to keep him that way.

A flick of his hand unburied the dark elf just enough, to uncover his face for clearer air. The storm in his own head got a fresh spike of pain.

"… You're," Josiah gasped, "You're the one, who's done."

[Major NPC]

They were running.

The volleys of useless darts had stopped. The supply of nets was seemingly exhausted. The poachers were fleeing in earnest, all pelting in different directions as if it would make a difference. One had his hands full grappling with the leash of another hound, with the canine growling and frothing and straining to attack.

The poacher looked up and saw Ohryn closing in. The unicornfolk felt the spike of panic behind the tinted visor. The leash slipped from numb fingers, and the mastiff bounded forward, ready for blood. His response was a swift kick that knocked it onto its back, limbs splaying. It didn't get up.

The poacher was snatched up by the front of his coat. Ohryn planted his feet, turned his full weight through the motion, and launched the unfortunate man overhead with another yell. The screaming man in his armor only had a short distance to fly before his helmet collided with the last one who hadn't moved - the mage in the black and white robes whose dance held the fires around the trapped herd. Both men went down. The flames rapidly thinned.

Then he was upon them like a storm, a discarded rifle in one hand. He swung it like a cudgel, hammering the barrel against their body, cracking an elbow, shattering a leg guard, denting the armored poacher's visor. The robed mage moved like flickering smoke, barely dodging, always an inch away from punishment, hurriedly extricating itself from the tangle and waving a sleeve at the disintegrating spellwork to sustain it.

He wasn't having any of that. Ohryn grabbed the battered poacher by his neck and charged, swinging him in a wide horizontal arc. He clipped the mage, who stumbled, then rolled and dodged and retreated further back. From beneath the shadowed hood, a male voice began yelling for assistance.

He lashed out with his makeshift weapon twice more, then tossed what was left of the highly unfortunate poacher into the dwindling, snaking fires and turned all of his wrath upon the mage.

Something hit the back of his legs, twining around both ankles and he stumbled, moving in time to break his fall on his hands and knees. He tucked his legs in with a growl and pulled at the entangling wires, metal biting back at his flesh until they snapped away.

A sweep of the black sleeve, elongated far beyond where the hand ended, wrapped around his arms and pinned them to his sides. He stumbled upright, angled his head to charge -

The white sleeve was moving in another whirling motion. The air thickened around the mage's hand as energy gathered, viscous and translucent. It lashed forward before Ohryn could take a step.

He stood, swaying, as hearing and vision blurred and started to fade. He reached for his magic, to break the entangling sleeve, to throw off the cobwebs settling in his mind, but it seemed just an inch beyond his reach. Even the Spirit's frantic screams were distant, too far to comprehend and barely close enough to hear.

He felt another spell shake his body. The veritable mountain of muscle packed upon muscle suddenly became too heavy to hold itself up.

* * * * * * * * * *

He tried to rise. Thick cables strained and groaned across his body - his ankles and wrists, elbows and knees, pressing around his neck, below his chest and over his waist.

Turning his head, he saw the robed mage's back, black- and white-clothed arms weaving through the familiar routine. There was the same fire-cage as before, but from his sideward view it looked smaller - some of the herd had managed to escape after all, he hoped.

He pushed his body against the ground, grinding his form into the cables again, tried to shout at the mage to distract him. The tight bridle around his jaws kept them clamped shut on the thick metal rod between his teeth, stifling his words.

The mage hardly turned. His dance brought him a step closer to the unicornfolk.

A solid boot slammed into Ohryn's unguarded ribs. "Caused us a lot of trouble," the robed man remarked. "My employer's going to take it out on your hide." His arms waved, and the flames constricted, and a frightened whinny sounded from within them. "Should be fun to watch. He's had experience, dealing with unicorns."

[Josiah Gray]

The three poachers, caught off guard by the barrage of nature, lost their aim and their eyesight as they shielded themselves from all the debris. The dragon shot forth a bolt of lightning from his hands - electric blue that crashed into the metal armor of one, and then arced unnaturally to the others. The three were all launched different ways, scattered even as lightning kept its dangerous connection.  One slammed into a tree and spiraled face down. The others landed in dirt and shrubbery, though none of them were getting up.

Another sonic pulse raced through the trees. The dragon was ready for it this time, and lightning filled hands caught the magic wave in front of him. Magic lightning and sound collided, energies mixing and building until they exploded. Spirit-made clothing whipped against his flesh as the guardian flew forward through the smoke it left behind.

He threw more lightning ahead of him, shooting towards the source of the sound waves. More detonations occurred ahead, where the friction of their two energies lashed out violently at the surrounding world. The spirit caught up fast to where the orc stood between two trees, slamming the staff's bells against the wood - another sonic blast requiring his immediate attention.

Hands went wide to project the blue barrier around himself, braced for the magical hammering. The Orc took off at a run, running perpendicularly away from the too-close spirit. He slammed the cylindrical bells against the trees as he passed them, trading blasts at the dragon who flew the same direction as him. Trees shattered when the orc missed. They burst into flames at lightning's caress.

Contact smashed the dragon off his flight path. He returned to it undaunted. Bolts made the armored orc stagger in his run, but he kept on going. The hardy Orc was strong enough to endure them. They weren't getting anywhere with each other like that, and they knew it.

The poacher was the first to break the stalemate. The staff was slammed straight down, and magic launched the orc skyward, through the canopy and out of sight. Lord stopped abruptly, holding his exact position. He reached out with his mind toward the surrounding trees, and burned his magic into the surface of them.

The air whistled above him, and he looked straight up. The orc was plummeting to the earth like a meteor, one end of the staff aimed down. Lord had just enough to lean back, arms braced against his chest and his body alight with the protective field.

The ground cratered beneath them, as the staff smashed the humanoid dragon into the ground. The trees all around them bent away with the most thunderous wave yet, deafening and deadly. Small twigs shattered outright. Leaves were thrown off their branches en masse, blown away on the wind of sound.

Every bone in his body would have been shattered - every nerve, fried, every vein, burst. Lord's only grace was a body made purely of energy. He survived, but even a spirit can feel pain.

His whole world was made of it, in that moment, but he still had the strength to look up beyond his crushed arms and the staff, to the armored orc glaring down at him.

Something told the dragon to grin.

Kanji burned into the trees all lit up in Josiah's signature color at once. Grow. Restrict. Bind. Emptiness. The orc had only a second to notice it himself. The dragon phased down below, right as the trees unleashed a thousand new branches among them. A few stabbed through armored limbs, but most veered around his body like water around a rock. They threaded through and among each other, growing and weaving themselves into a patchwork box.

The orc screamed once in pain - before branches clutched at his throat and mouth and silenced him. The spirit rose up out of the earth in front of him, claws flexing slowly in front of him as he leaned his neck to either side. Internal energies pulsed to "fix" the damage done, bit by bit.

Lord looked at him, at the eyes shouting murder for wont of any other ability to speak. The dragon snorted a burst of frost at him and rolled his eyes.

"Be quiet already," he ordered. The poacher was hardly in a position to resist. Then the spirit turned the orc's helmet around and walked off.

[Hermia]

The screaming, thrashing, burning leftovers of the gunman who'd shot her made a convincing argument for a reduced sentence. As flesh knitted back together, Hermia thought over the mitigating circumstances involved, and finally settled on giving the foal and her own familiar a stern talking-to when this was all over.

Next time, however, they were definitely in for a grounding.

Screaming and thrashing were replaced with more burning. Hermia reached to her salamander's thoughts and nudged his attention to their last target: the beleaguered man in the wolf-themed armor, both gauntlets alight with crackling arcs of lightning as he flailed and dodged and tried to fend off the attacking unicorn with arm-thrusts. As Trouble charged, the foal pivoted on its hooves, lashed out with both hind legs, and left a glowing cavity in the poacher's shoulder plates.

That light, emanating from an exposed crystal where metal had been knocked askew. Hermia squinted. Moments before the unicorn retreated and Trouble's flames cascaded over the poacher, she made out the shape of a closed flower bud ensconced in three white petals.

Snowdrops. She used them often enough herself. They were good for creating her own ersatz holy water - none of the demon-banishing power, but the resulting mixture shorted out spellwork and was especially good at chewing up curses. And now, it seemed, some other talented mage had worked them into an enchantment that bounced a third-tier's boosted spells clean off. How many did he embed in his armor? Irritation stabbed deeper. And why didn't I think of that? The last of the implications sank in too late, and a steel-booted foot, looking no worse for the heat, swept her familiar aside before she could issue a command to retreat.

The poacher had his back to the unicorn. A swift kick to the rear knocked him two staggering, faltering steps before he whirled, the lines of his body broadcasting more insult than actual injury. Red light pulsed around the armor, concentrating into the gauntlets. He lunged. Red-wreathed fingers caught a white shoulder and wrapped around the base of the ivory horn.

The foal teetered on its legs, wide eyes blinking in confusion. The glow faded, and both hands loosened their grip, allowing it to weave away on tangled, stumbling feet.

Glaring lenses turned her way, and she finally moved. "Obruta, surgere!" She called, whirling her wand arm over her head. The grass rustled in warning, and a small cloud of loosened rocks and dirt clods filled the air around her. "Oppugno!"

The earthen missiles surged in like hornets on the warpath. Her other hand was up, fingers splayed, before the first sharp rock bounced off the canine helmet. Indigo fire streamed across the fifteen-foot distance between them and engulfed the poacher again.

The armor could withstand fire. Whatever tiny pebbles slipped through the cracks to rattle around against his skin would only buy her a few more seconds' distraction, which was all her attack would amount to anyway. Just a distraction. One she sorely needed. She watched the blurred silhouette flail through the tempest, and felt herself flail to hammer the pieces of the puzzle together. No direct spells, no fire, but a command to make inanimate objects target him seemed to work and the unicorn's kicks had done some damage, at least; now if only she had something bigger and heavier in her backpack to bludgeon the fool senseless -

"Accio." Gravity pulled scorched rocks and half-baked clay back to the ground, their purpose fulfilled. The poacher lowered the arm shielding his face. The helmet's lenses were scratched and cracked, but still very much opaque; a shame she'd never get to see his expression as the man froze in place, his eyes no doubt coming to rest on the piles of ordnance scattered around her feet. She kept her wand trained on the figure while her flame-bearing hand swept low, fingers brushing every fuse and leaving a spark behind.

Fireworks. The best and brightest and loudest she had scraped together, the result of a long month in the bustling markets of the Upper Kingdoms. The pride of the craftsmen and sorcerers, worth every breath she'd had to spend haggling and arguing their killer prices down to size. Sizeable crates of burning, crackling, shrieking little missiles, all shrunken and charmed inert and crammed into a single compartment in the depths of her bag. Rings of fire. Jars that exploded to birth ethereal dragons. Snaking bunches of popping, crackling cylinders. Little rockets that shrieked into the sky to cry thunder and turn night into day.

She lit them all. "Oppugno."

She slipped out of phase with the world. She dropped five feet into solid ground and hoped for good luck while a festival's worth of explosive merriment hailed down on the blessed soil.

[Josiah Gray]

A few steps away from the immobile orc, and the spirit couldn't resist the urge any longer. Lord took off from the ground like a rocket, homing in on his other half who even now was radiating pain signals. The short journey was only the work of seconds, but it was still too long for the guardian, whose heart burned when he viewed the scene approaching before him.

The air was colder. There was plenty of snow to go around - his master's signature, to be sure. Numerous unconscious guards were wrapped up and ready to be shipped off in their own enchanted nets. He wasn't expecting to see that anymore then he was expecting to see Josiah, on the ground, sitting against a tree for support.

The cold inside what passed for his heart turned another degree icier.

He rushed to his ward's side, where the belabored Josiah was breathing heavily and using a handkerchief to nurse the gushing nosebleed. Clawed hands glowed white with a different kind of magic, and the dragon growled in a way so very similar to the mage's brother.

Why didn't you call me sooner? the spirit demanded, his mental voice tinged with intense concern and a half bead of anger.

The sickly pale mage gave a weak smile as he felt the healing magic start to work its way through his system.

You told me, to focus on my own group. He followed the response with a small laugh, a deeper breath helping to put the smallest bit of color back into his paler-than-normal cheeks. The look on the spirit's face was an outright glare.

Do you have to be annoying when you actually listen to me? he shot back, snorting off to the side. That's not what I meant and you know it.

I'm fine, Josiah said, noting the lack of blood pouring from his nose. Now, anyway.

Gently, he reached for the part of his brain where his own magic was located, and found it didn't hurt to touch it anymore. He stretched his perception out towards the other groups, clairvoyant sight taking in the unicorns racing away from battles and back into a center congregation. His vision strayed over the vulpine fey to the south, and then moved westward.

Mia has reinforcements. They're holding together, for now. But Ohryn isn't, he said, sound more concerned as he went on. Josiah tried to get up, but the growling dragon insisted on spending more of his energy attending to the young mage. A heavy hand held him back down.

He's in trouble. We need to back him up, he said more urgently, his breath picking up speed again out of worry.

We're going to, the dragon replied succinctly, quick to take the lead. Save your strength. I'm stronger with you nearby. Port us in, and I'll take it from there.

Josiah nodded his agreement, and only then did the dragon's hands let him up - and in fact, helped him up instead. No sooner than he was standing and Josiah was teleporting them the several hundred foot distance to the fifth battlefield. The starting gate opened wide, and the dragon suddenly leaned forward and dashed into the fray.

And when this is over, we are going to have such a talk, the dragon shot off as an afterthought.

[Josiah Gray]

The dragon charged forward through the forest, feet lifting off the ground just before he cleared the trees and broke out into the clearing. He flew through the air, a ghost on the wind passing a pair of other poachers, his right arm pulled back for the swing. The mage ahead - hooded robe, colors split down the middle between black and white - was standing over the unicorn, bound.

A burst of lightning crackled in his palm, roaring its eagerness to be delivered to the villain. Yet sound traveled faster then he did, and all in a second, the mage was turning around. An eye saw Lord out of its corner, and its wetness practically glowed for the radiance held in the dragon's hand. Lord's whole body thrust it forward, into the mage's chest.

There was no contact. There was just smoke, and his arm shoved through where the mage had been. He slashed at it with zeus' lance, turning rapidly this way and that, looking for where the unicorn thief had gotten to. But there were three other poachers in the clearing now, and a ring of fire still encircling the unicorn herd.

An arrow pierced hard into his left shoulder, knocking him forward over the once talkative unicorn. Hands caught himself a few inches above the thick white beast, and an aura of blue snapped on before the bullets arrived a moment later. They ricocheted off the protective field while the dragon looked down at the beastfolk. The urge to be like Elijah brimmed upwards in the guardian spirit.

"That's a good look for you," he teased just once. A long line of fire suddenly crashed upon the dragon's back, causing him to jerk downwards. Lord looked up, the mage's arm bringing another firey whip towards him. Lord lashed out with a gout of his own blue flame to meet it.

"I'll be right back," he said while delivering a quick, mocking pat to the horse-like face.

The dragon got back to his feet, and then got off of them - flying above another swing of the firey weapon. He briefly phased in mid air, letting the crossbow bolt fall out of his body, and then caught it as soon as it was out. He threw it at the mage, and it rocketed forward with a telekinetic boost.

He moved to dodge, and he was fast, but the mage still had to vanish into smoke to avoid it. Bullets were still firing, and demanded his attention. The aura concentrated in his fists, and released as a pair of pummeling blasts, shot one after the other. One gunner was knocked off his feet and against a tree; he slumped to the ground and didn't get up. Lord missed the crossbowman, and another bolt bored its way through his defenses.

It embedded itself into his right side, sticking out of his shirt. The dragon's growl rose higher as his right foot hit the ground and launched him in the crossbowman's direction instead. Bolt number three, loosed in his direction, had him phasing again - leaving the second bolt behind him as he avoided the third outright. He landed solid, ducking beneath a fourth shot, and a vicious clench of his left hand upon the weapon denied him a fifth.

A lifted fist prepared to knock him out, and found itself held back by black cloth. A glance back saw the mage, returned. His free hand shoved the broken crossbow into the poacher's face, and dropped him anyway. A bullet bounced off his shoulder.

To his left, the last gunner stood a good distance away. Lord glared at him just once, before the weapon was thrown down.

"Ah, come on, man! This was supposed to be easy!" the gunner shouted as he ran off to hide somewhere in the forest.

The dragon turned back, to look at the mage. Another sleeve was rapidly incoming. It grabbed at Lord's wrist, and Lord grabbed back at it in turn. The pair of them dug their heels into the earth, before the dragon released lightning along the fabric. The sleeves suddenly cut off before it could reach him, the mage briefly staggering backwards.

"No idea how annoying you all are," the mage shouted. Lord launched himself forward again, only to be caught mid air by something on his feet. The spirit crashed to the ground upon his hands, glancing back at the wires on his ankles. He shoved himself up, twisting through the air away from another firey lashing while wires passed through intangible flesh.

The dragon snarled once as he hit the ground on all fours, then dodged another wave of the flames.

"That's hilarious," Lord shot back dryly. "I was going to say the same about you."

[Josiah Gray]

Josiah was still watching the scene from behind the trees, silently cheering the spirit on. His pulse stayed high, its racing beat too excited to calm down by the combat that lay in front of him. The guardian spirit of a dragon had always been a better warrior then him, and was proving that with every second spent engaged in firey combat with the other mage.

A battle locked closely to even was interrupted by the explosion of metallic wires from the ground, grasping around the dragon's limbs, threading around in complex knots that had the white beast's arms pulled backwards on his knees. An open mouth unleashed a stream of blue light, slicing horizontally through the nearest trees and forcing the mage back into his smokey form.

It's discorporation, not teleportation, Josiah tried to helpfully chime in.

I gathered! the dragon returned curtly. Lord took the same time to telekinetically shatter the restraints off with his aura, and then expelled even more beams of energy upon the smoke cloud. It shifted this way and that, and darted back into the mowed down forest for cover. The dragon rushed after with a flurry of flames from his hands.

Far opposite, the ring of fire still contained a small herd of the mythic beasts, and Lord was in no position to help them at the moment. Josiah looked back and forth between them, and the fight, and the helpless hefty beastfolk still tied down and struggling against the indignity of it. Josiah looked once more to where the dragon was, and then swallowed.

He was already going to get a talking to. He might as well do more to earn it. Snow assisted his teleportation to a spot behind the wall of flames, hidden from the rest of the battlefield by the blaze itself. Unicorns whinnied in terror on the other side, their fear still resonating hard to the empathic young man.

The fire was mystic made, burning without fuel. He could try to force it down with his own magic, but he didn't want to. His eyes darted around the landscape, and then at the very earth below. His magic stretched down into it, and pulled out a thick tunnel's worth of dirt. Rapidly the excavation happened a second time, making moles everywhere envious of the suddenly crafted tunnel.

The unicorns' fear spiked again, when the earth opened up in the ring, creating the path up. They shied away from it, trapped between fire and darkness, and lacking the incentive to make a risk he realized.

Carrots. Horses like carrots, he thought to himself, and he pulled one out of the ground. Walking down into the darker tunnel, the carrot was still slightly sparkling with the magic he formed it out of.

"Hey! Hey guys!" he whispered as soon as he came in sight of the white beasts. "I've got something for you."

A magical connection to the emotions they were giving off wasn't picking up hunger. That's what he expected. They should have been eager, to have a bite of the carrot. What he sensed from them was an entirely different kind of eagerness that had Josiah paling again.

"Oh right. You guys like," he swallowed hard, and started walking backwards. The unicorns were wary for a second, then started following down the ramp as trepidation was overwhelmed by an instinctive trust of purity. "Never mind. Just come on."

He led them through the brief stint in the dark, and Josiah discovered that it wasn't a trick of the light; unicorns really do glow a bit. Getting them to stop following him, that was the difficult part. They crowded around just a bit too closely to him, and seemed to be outright pushing him along towards the clearing's edge with them.

"No. Stop it. Cease. Desist. No," the mage insisted, trying to push off the beasts much bigger than he was. The firey backdrop made the large white creatures seem more imposing than ever.

Stupid lying vixen meaniepants I hope Lord bites you.

"I can't go with you. They still need help!" Josiah whispered adamantly. It was then that empathy returned the strangest sensation of … awareness. The two nearest unicorns looked at each other in a weird way, and conversed back and forth in a quick whinnies. Glowing horns were then lowered, as the pair of beasts closed in.

Nerves frayed, and Josiah was two seconds away from teleporting, before the beast on his left gently nuzzled his arm through the multiple layers of clothing. The beast on his right brought the side of its face against Josiah's. From both of them, he felt waves of a magic he didn't recognize. Peace, and kindness, and warmth all came with it, like healing but better. His chest opened up to gasp, and the air felt just a bit … clearer.

He swallowed easily. Glassy equine eyes sought out his, and bore his reflection.

"I'll be fine," he said again, sounding more confident than before. "Now go catch up with the rest of your herd. We'll, we'll get the barrier down, somehow."

He could have imagined it, the way they seemed to nod in understanding before galloping away. But he didn't have time to focus on that. The sound of explosions was still coming from Lord's direction, where the spirit and wizard were constantly exchanging blows. Josiah moved at a slow jog towards where Ohryn was waiting.

Eyes raked over the spread form the closer he came, and he felt for the traces of magic around. Chains and wires didn't have the same energized nature as the flames. They were made and left that way - like the ones the mage kept trying to use upon the dragon. That was a vulnerability.

"Hang on," he whispered as he slowly knelt down next to the massive male specimen. His hands reached for the gag around his mouth, and struggled to get it undone. "I'll have you out, in, in a moment."

Light wasn't something he liked using for attack. It was dangerous. If used wrong, it could kill all too easily, and he'd seen villains and heroes alike use it to that effect. Chains and wires were a different story. He shifted around on his knees, holding his hands in front of him. A small azure beam shot from them and made quick work burning through each of the links holding him spread-eagled, starting with the ones binding his right arm. The earth bore small scars where metal was sliced through, but better there than through Ohryn's own flesh.

[Major NPC]

Rage, panic, elation; his mind tumbled through each extreme with dizzying speed, leaving him too shocked to breathe when the dragon spirit's form was splayed over his own.

Previously absent humor twinkled in the spirit's eyes. "That's a good look for you."

Then fire lashed the ethereal, scaled back, and he was gone again, pursuing the mage with cold wrath on his mind, leaving Ohryn alone to struggle on the ground.

"Hang on," another familiar voice drifted to his ears. He twisted on the ground, straining against the cables with new-found energy. Hands found the nearest wires and clenched them tight, and the chafing burn of the metal tight against his neck meant nothing as he turned his head and his eyes locked with clear hazel. Josiah was reaching to him, fingers brushing his skin - grasping at the muzzle, loosening the tight bands and pulling the bit from his jaws. "I'll have you out in, in a moment."

"Josiah," Ohryn breathed. Tensed, mounded flesh relaxed as he exhaled the word. His gaze tracked down to the pale hands, and he started, clenching in brief shock, when energy flashed in a solid beam and sliced the metal off his right arm.

He lifted the limb free of the ground, shaking it, flexing life and circulation back into the muscles, then reached out to snatch at the next-nearest cable and pull it taut. His body tightened again, bound legs pulling inward, his other elbow bracing against the ground - fighting the cables, keeping them stretched to their limit for Josiah to burn them through, grunting as each limb wrenched free of the restraints.

"Josiah," he whispered again. There was more to say, more he wanted to do, but the relief he sensed from the Spirit was tinged with caution - the Children were safe, for now, the last imperiled ones stolen from the encircling flames, his once-captor only moments away from defeat, but something else, lurking beyond the now useless magical barrier, had yet to enter the fight.

There was much he wouldn't have the time to say. With the moment's respite granted, he cocked his head roguishly and composed himself to charm a virgin. "Yer dragon said, 'twas a good look fer me." He gestured at the shorn cables scattered around them. "Did oi really look that good that way?"

He grinned.

[Josiah Gray]

A nervous system on overdrive was already dealing with a rapid heart beat from too much danger and excitement. Blood was pounding in his ears, blocking out most other noises as he did his best to focus on sight - and even that was split. He kept glancing aside, at the conflict between the two-toned mage and the spirit, and down at the bindings keeping the huge beast of a man held down.

So when Ohryn finally worked his jaws to say something, Josiah was already in a vulnerable state.

He cocked his head roguishly, completely unfazed by his previous state of helplessness in the face of danger.

"Yer dragon said, 'twas a good look fer me." He gestured at the cables still around Ohryn's limbs, which could so easily be reattached.

"Did oi really look that good that way?" the big man flirted.

Two seconds and twenty degrees later, and Josiah was pulling at the scarf around his neck and desperately trying to lower his personal temperature field.

"IthinkIhearmydragoncalling excusemekthanksbye."

Teleportation is near instantaneous. And he couldn't teleport fast enough.

[Josiah Gray]

No one's energy lasts forever. It depended on all sorts of factors, and some races just had plenty more to burn. The dragon knew, that as a spirit, his reserves were a bit stronger than the average fleshy man. His whole being was made of the stuff. But he also knew he'd spent a good bit on putting down the orc before, and then healing Josiah.

He was trying to wear him down, but it was up in the air who had more magic to spare.

They traded fire for fire, orange whips crashing against blue ones, small explosions marking where the two magical forces ground against each other. The binder had more tricks than that though. Wires and chains appeared from his surroundings, grabbing at his limbs and trying to pull him out wide. They were small distractions forcing him to burn the candle at both ends, magic spent to break away and to dodge more. The dragon gave as good as he got, lashing out with psychic pulses and elemental onslaughts.

One slick move on the mage's part saw the dragon's arms in chains, pulled back and up right as he was about to bring his counterattack down. The two-colored mage's own whip was already in motion, burning along the ground and aiming to scorch him from feet up.

Josiah appeared right in front of the dragon, and the wave of fire broke itself behind him upon a mystic azure barrier appearing just as fast. Lord didn't allow himself shock - he just took the opportunity to free himself.

Get out of the way! the dragon ordered as he moved to take the defensive line. Josiah stopped him by grabbing the front of ethereal clothing.

Lord! Lord!! He's terrible! He's naughty! He's a bad unicorn and I think he was flirting with me!

The set of firey whips lashed at the pair again, and again they were held off by the ward, without Josiah even looking at them. Eyes stared out from a brightly blushing complexion and were focused instead - nervous, but just shy of fearful - upon the dragon's countenance.

Josiah, this isn't the time! Lord said rapidly, taking hold of the youth's many layered arms and trying to gently pull them off. We're in the middle of a fight here!

That didn't stop him, Lord! Josiah said more insistently, even as he let the dragon push him aside. Wires tried to grasp at the young mage, only for the dragon to intervene with his own limbs. More chains followed, but found themselves easily repelled by a wave of energy from the mage's hand. That didn't stop him and I think he might have liked it and I told the unicorns no and they didn't listen either and I think they did something to me but I'm not sure what.

Compressed magic gathered in front of his palm, haphazardly raised in the foe's direction. Josiah didn't even turn the 90 degrees to face him, before loosing the bolt. Firey lines moved to intersect, but failed to move fast enough. They dissipated as he was forced into the smokelike state again, discorporating his own flesh so as to let the blast pass through him. The dragon jumped forward and joined in with several more arcs of lightning headed his way.

In case you aren't paying attention, this guy is really hard to pin down, the guardian ignored him in favor of the lethal threat.

Lord, I am having a moment here and you're supposed to help me! The mage slammed both hands down on mid air, as if crashing fingertips upon a piano. Liquid defied gravity in a great circle below the smoke cloud, and a great cylindrical water spout shot upwards. Smoke particles fought to break out, but swirling waves curved themselves into a rapidly spinning sphere held in midair.

Lord got the hint without being told further, dashing closer before he opened his mouth as wide as he could. He didn't need to inhale - frost white breath exploded from his maw upon the sphere. The transformation from liquid to solid only took a few seconds after that.

The dragon looked over the great white orb, frozen in place to the ground, and gave an indignant snort at it when he was satisfied smokey particles of a mage weren't getting out anytime soon. He turned around to find Josiah suddenly very close to him.

I don't know what to do here, Lord! He was looking at me with naughty eyes and Mia lied and the unicorns are pushy and I didn't know what to do!

The spirit's eyes rolled, just once, and then he firmly gripped the mage's arms again.

You're going to calm down, focus on the battle like you were before, and I'm going to take a newspaper to both their noses!

We don't have any newspaper!

I'll make one!!

[Hermia]

He was still alive.

Magically crafted fire and thunder had blazed all the foliage to ash, boiled off the characteristic Hibernian mist and baked squelching mud into crumbling, powdery clay. There was nothing around for a good twenty yards to suggest a unicorn would ever call this hell-scorched wasteland a home, or even an emergency toilet, and the devastation she'd wrought was a guarantee of an immediate and brusque expulsion from the premises by the resident Keeper.

And despite it all, the poacher in wolf's armor was still alive. Dented and floored and barely breathing, some metal plates shed and still glowing red hot, barely breathing but miraculously, frustratingly alive.

Sensing his master through the bond, Trouble dragged himself closer on three semifunctional legs. The salamander's mental presence was confusion, inching toward panic the longer his sight and hearing remained a distantly ringing blur. Thoughts of her other ally came to mind, and suddenly Hermia felt very sick to her stomach.

She ran a quick mental calculation, estimating the distance a confused unicorn could stumble, then comparing the melting points of a confused unicorn and a magically fire-resistant salamander. Then the bile rose and she lurched to her knees and threw up.

One unicorn's pasture, quite permanently struck off the resource list.

A faint mutter reached her ears. A man's voice - that particular man's voice, whispering in a language she didn't understand. The rise and fall of the words resembled the Caledonian dialect. She'd learned enough about this poacher to suspect more magical trickery at work.

His armored chest rose and fell in an obvious struggle for air to shape the hoarse words. Hermia's boot came down, and the whispers ground to a wheezing halt.

Red eyes opened, and met her glare through the helmet's broken lenses. The steady gaze was baleful and resigned and nearly apologetic, all in one.

Another breath. More words, forming the same incantation.

One unicorn's pasture, quite permanently struck off the resource list. Hermia held that thought in her mind and let it sear her into a fury. The only permanent causalty that would matter today, and it was indirectly her fault because of that one man who simply refused to die -

She angled her shaking hand, wand gripped so hard her fingers were going numb. She lowered it, the tip going down through the shattered visor until solid mahogany dug into the grey fur between the man's eyes. The only problem with having a long list of Latin words and phrases to inflict inconvenience on others, she thought at this point, was that she wouldn't be able to exhaust it before the man gave up the ghost -

A firm nudge steered impending death off the poacher and drove gentle warmth up her veins. She overbalanced and hit the dust, too stunned for noise.

Pristine as always, its eyes bright with amusement, the unicorn foal bent low to nudge her again.

The broken helmet craned to study the proceedings, then fell back. The dented chest plate sank, letting out a noise of relief.

Hermia looked from the playfully cantering unicorn to the poacher. Questions took shape.

She stood, thoughts snapping back to more pressing matters. "Stupefacio."

Red light splashed over the armor. The body went limp.

"We should move," she told the unicorn. "Dirige me - Josiah."

[Major NPC]

Ohryn was hardly telepathic. He couldn’t tell what was going on between mage and familiar - only that something must have been spoken between them, to warrant the expressions on their faces and the rough way Lord had grasped his arm. There was just the pair of them, standing idly in front of the great icicle sphere, as if nothing important had just happened at all.

He paused in his approach, shaking the last of the tangling wires off his forearms. Eyes were on the frozen sphere and the life flickering within, the mocking color it had held before now replaced with a very peeved mood.

He wanted to point and laugh. He wanted to smash the thing and crush every last fragment of the trapped mage, grind the lot down until the binder was indistinguishable from the loam around them.

He began to move closer toward Josiah and the guardian spirit. “Are they - all done fer, then?”

The dragon turned on him, blue eyes glaring sharply even if they were vaguely transparent. Paper formed itself out of snow-white particles, and the dragon was quick to roll it up. A quicker bop to the nose was a short order to make.

”Oi!”

“Bad. Bad unicorn. Who taught you to act like that around impressionable young virgins?”

The mage slapped his palm to his head, and covered his eyes entirely with the sleeve of his arm.

“Act loike wot?” Ohryn protested, one hand on his nose. A flash of white light chased the pain away, but did nothing for the new bruise forming on his pride. “Oi did nothin’ - “

Poink.

The unicorn leapt up with another insulted yell and came down with his other hand on his stinging tail - now one hair thinner. The youngest Child trotted past, a snicker on the little traitor’s breath, as the fox-witch rematerialized on the dragon’s other side, dropping the newly stolen hair into a modestly filled jar.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Hermia remarked tartly.

Silently, the dragon took advantage of her proximity, turning around on the fox-fey to deliver a like-strengthened bop to the top of her head. She uttered a tiny shriek, then once the shock was gone and only the sting left behind, she clapped one hand over the affected area, spluttering half-coherent epithets.

An accusatory finger threatened her menacingly with its claw-like digit. “You are a bad person and I hope you feel bad,” the dragon growled.

Oblivious to the danger, the foal trotted up close with another equine snicker.

The arm wielding the newspaper raised the implement of discipline in warning.

It froze in its tracks, then darted gracefully behind Hermia as if it had always meant to head that way.

Josiah buried his face in both hands and tried to imagine his dragon wasn’t embarrassing him in front of strangers. Again.

[Josiah Gray]

“We’re being dysfunctional again,” Hermia noted in bright, acerbic cheer. “I suppose it means we all made it out in one piece. Every non-equine thing on my side of the field is either dead or brutally maimed, today’s turning out to be a wonderful day after all, and why don’t we do something about that sickly violet energy shield looming ominously above us before we get back at each other’s throats?”

Josiah’s hands fell from his face and clasped together in front of him as words poured in a sharp stream from his mouth.

“Yesquicklylet’sdothatandforgetanyofthishappenedforeverohpoodles is anyone else sensing that?” The young, scarlet-faced mage turned as a new signal lit up his sense of magic like a blazing firestorm and everything was tinder. The barrier had warped - if only for a moment - and not to let anything out.

Something had come in.

Ohryn was the next to turn. Beneath pure white fur, he blanched. “Ifreann na Fola,” he breathed, cursing in a tongue Josiah didn’t quite know.

“Why.” Hermia didn’t move, except to attach her palm to her face like Josiah had moments prior. “Why.”

Josiah swallowed, and it was the loudest thing he’d ever heard. The dragon shifted along the ground again, positioning himself in front of his ward, clawed hands bared and at the ready.

Thunder cracked the air wide open, and left behind a figure in its wake. Free magical energies flooded out from him, tidal waves that overtook every breath and made it even harder for an already asthmatic young man to catch the air he needed.

Black leather armor adorned the figure whose skin was of an ashen obsidian shade, pointed ears like knives jutting like peaks from the flawless white hair. Silver unicorn threads left intricate runic designs in his clothing, with a weapon in his right hand that was unmistakable as the lifesource of one such unfortunate beast: the horn itself.

His left hand effortlessly lifted up the once-captured orc by the collar of his armor.

“You know, I really thought this was going to be simple,” the voice came out light, soft - disaffectedly easygoing.

With a sudden jerk of his arm, the orc was sent rocketing through the sky, towards the barrier. Energy crashed and crackled when the two made contact.

Josiah’s heart raced so fast, he could hardly tell each hammering beat from the next.

The dragon suddenly shot forward like a gun blast, claws full of lightning bolts with not even a hint of holding back. The electricity scattered away from the dark elf’s person, and with the barest flick of his wand, he retaliated with a violet bolt of his own. The spectral dragon was blown back into the forest, shattering two trees on his way into the green.

Ohshitohshitohshitohshit

A muttered ”Accio” summoned another crystal sphere to the fox-fey’s hand. Hermia dropped it on the grass and brought one boot down hard, filling the air with flashing wings and indignant insect chatter. “Run!”

The young mage hurriedly grasped where Ohryn’s arm was, grabbing at the first bit of flesh he could find before both vanished - a white flurry left behind in their wake, adding and fading in the insect swarm.

The spiral horn of a wand was thrust forward, and he slashed free hand and wand hand out wide to blow away the annoying smokescreen. Hoofprints - from so many unicorns before - helped mask their retreat.

The dark elf gave a sigh most blase.

“It’s never simple…” he muttered.

[Hermia]

Hermia’s Fantastical Field Notes. Chapter: Unicorns. Addendum three: unicorns are in fact capable of exacting vengeance. Ow. My tail.

Somehow, amid the confusion, the foal had swept her up onto its back and was now in a headlong gallop away from their new enemy. They had gained considerable ground, reducing the smokescreen to a tiny blot in the mist, before she saw it evaporate. “I’m holding on just fine! You can let go of my tail now!”

The foal ignored her, ran faster, and she was quite sure the teeth gripping her tail clamped down even tighter.

Addendum four: unicorns are, in fact, incredibly vindictive.

Hooves ground into the mud, bringing steed and passenger to a lurching halt. Hermia fought her breakfast down, realized they were entirely surrounded by a milling, fidgeting herd, and had to suppress a whole new wave of abject, heart-stopping terror.

A few of the beasts glanced her way, then turned with a bristly shake of their bedraggled manes. More still were engrossed in the task of nudging the barrier with their horns, pitting white sparks of energy against the malevolently swirling violet wall to no effect.

All those tails and no more time to steal hairs from a single one. It made her want to scream and throw blunt objects.

But there was a more important thing to focus on, and she had… some time for this, at least. Running out fast, but there was - she had to do something.

The barrier loomed large and unimpressed, as dismissive of the herd’s collective efforts as the mage who’d put the thing up. The mage in question being someone who could swat a giant belligerent spirit dragon like a fly. Someone whose mere presence had sent the magically sensitive Josiah into the beginnings of a(nother) nervous breakdown.

The tight grip let up, restoring blood circulation to her tail. She jolted, lost her balance, and fell into the mud with a yelp. Dainty hooves stomped. “You did that on purpose,” she said.

The foal snorted.

She unslung her backpack with a huff and began a hurried excavation of its contents. “I’ve got my eye on you.”

Potions. Plenty of them. Neatly labelled, of variable utility, too many of which, taken in combination, would make her sick to her stomach for weeks. A rune-sealed bottle which opened out to become her salamander’s infrequently used litter box. Needed changing. No more fireworks - she’d used them all on the armored poacher. More insect-spawning crystal spheres, but these produced swarms of indiscriminately enraged bees instead of merely confused butterflies. One enchanted broomstick, sufficient for exactly one (1) fox-fey to make a speedy exit unless she factored in the impenetrable barrier surrounding them.

A short metal rod ending in a petrified lizard with its wrinkled eyes shut and its mouth wide open. Various animal skin plasters. Unstable liquids that flashed different colors, which she’d yet to safely dispose of. More straw dolls. A squirt bottle of something cold. A squirt bottle of something warm. Unlabelled, most likely prepared and distilled in a hurry. A salt shaker filled with the magic-grounding black sand of the Obsidian Wilds.

Useless. Useless. Too weak to matter. Useless. Not enough. Useless -

A dozen branches whistled in the air as an uprooted tree fell from the sky, dropped onto the ground and shattered some distance away. Unicorns whinnied in terror as they heard it - then saw it, another tree sent hurtling through the air like an arcing cannon blast. A voice slithered its way out of the forest, in a mockingly calm voice.

“Oh where, oh where have my unicorns gone?” The dark elf sang. “Oh where, oh where could they be?”

[Josiah Gray]

An instinctive grasp at familiar territory in his mind’s eye - that had proved the wrong idea. A barrier designed to prevent escape blocked off their spatial transmission, and his head took the brunt of that mistake.

It was like someone cracked a hammer against the front of his skull. In an explosion of snowflakes, the pair had solidified in midair, bouncing off of the dark violet barrier. Gravity reinforced its hold on them, wanting to drag them down from the thirty-some feet they were off the ground. Wind whipped around their clothes as the air fought to get out of their way, bone-breaking earth rapidly rising up to meet them.

Josiah shook off the sledgehammer-induced daze only just in time to catch them, blue light arresting their momentum a few feet off the ground. Ohryn landed hooves first, no worse for wear. The mage found sitting down on his rear much more appropriate.

“Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea,” he clutched his head as he tried to get back up.

Fist clenched tight, still raised in a boxer’s stance, Ohryn cast about the suddenly different surroundings. “Where’d he - Josiah?” He whipped around to the stricken mage. ”Josiah!” He was on his knees in a flash, bending protectively over the human. White fire blazed again, burning nausea and pain away, even before big hands made contact, one on his forehead, the other squeezing his shoulder.

He lifted his head, scanning the premises for guardians. Big arms shifted, pulling Josiah into a healing embrace.

[Hermia]

He’s toying with us. Her insides were in free-fall. We’re just an early dinner to him and he’s decided to play with his food. The fox ground one petite heel into the dirt. “And you. Can’t you do anything useful at all?” If the resident spirit had any opinions to offer, it didn’t express them.

Another tree went flying. She groaned and knelt in the grass, surrounded by her pitiful arsenal, and rubbed at her temples to fight down the rapidly growing panic as branches crashed like thunder.

She needed firepower. Didn’t have firepower. Didn’t have time.

Well, there was still -

No. She wouldn’t consider that. Wouldn’t even think the name, because the last thing she needed was Apsogos to -

You rang?

A sickly smooth voice slithered into her thoughts like poisoned honey. It sounded exactly like the dark elf’s dulcet whispers. She lurched over, hugging her sides. Fortunately there was nothing left to throw up.

Get out. She snapped.

A mental harrumph. I thought I was wanted. That’s the only time you ever call on my name.

I wasn’t -

But you do want something, yes? Little vixen needs a dash of brimstone in her fox-fires?

Not here. Not now. I’m not allowed to defile this place. Out.

There was a patronized sigh, and then silence inside her head. Relative silence, if she discounted her own terror and the lingering need to call up the fires of hell, generously provided by some social-climbing spirit who wanted to play with the bigger boys. It’d be so easy. Say his name. Speak the words. Scuff the runes in the dirt with her heel and turn that meaningless insect to a steaming puddle of molten-

GET OUT!

She looked around and hoped the unicorns hadn’t heard that.

“Stay - stay together.” Her voice shook. “Nowhere to run.” Nowhere to run. “If we split up again he’ll just pick us off.” Like an eel patiently hunting minnows. One by one by one. “Stay together, concentrate your magic if you have any - point it at each other and…”

Another tree landed much closer, and sent several unicorns bolting right.

A familiar, less threatening rumble. Smooth ivory brushed her shoulder. The foal rubbed its horn over that spot again. Magic was infused in its touch, offering peace, offering courage.

She stood, glared down at her array of weapons. Snatched the nearest potion, inspected its deep red frothing contents, and drank them all down before tossing the empty bottle aside with a careless flourish.

“Keep me healed. Keep me focused. Make sure I stay in one piece. We can do this.”

[Josiah Gray]

Josiah breathed deep. His lungs felt better again - and his nose was just good enough to drag in the wild, masculine scent of the being who had currently dragged him to his chest. He was hardly in a position to fight off the unicorn, but he still pressed his hands against the white fur of his sides, and vainly pressed against the solid body. He made a note to try punching a rock next time - might be more effective.

“Ohryn. Ohryn, let go,” the young mage stammered, trying to gain his wits about him now that he was free of a headache. Muscles receded, loosened reluctantly, the beastfolk’s snout brushing his forehead in retreat.

Got to focus. Clear my mind. Big bad. Big, big bad. Sakuya won’t hear through the barrier. Just us. Has to be us.

A quick tabulation of their current forces numbered a unicorn folk somewhere around tier 2, a similarly ranked fox-fey, one herd of unicorns - couldn’t count on them more than they already had - his guardian, and himself. If Ohryn hadn’t been healing him, he would have paled.

Crap. I’m the strongest we have. Beautiful. No pressure. I’ll just kill myself so the pain ends sooner.

“One sec, talking with my dragon,” he said aloud to the protective beastfolk.

“Don’t tell ‘im ‘bout the - healing?” Ohryn moved back another step and stole a glance at the nearby bushes, suspecting the foliage of harboring overprotective dragon spirits. But he moved, all the same.

Josiah quickly reached with his mind to a familiar being, searching for his other half.

Lord? Lord, wake up. Lord, you need to -

I don’t sleep, a voice came back, sounding angry and pained. I’m fixing something, alright?

Fixing? We’re about to get killed, the unicorns are about to get slaughtered, and you’re playing mechanic?! What are you fixing?!

My ribcage. the dragon familiar stated flatly.

Josiah gulped. Oh, okay, carry on then.

The elf went in the red rat’s direction, the dragon continued. He’s playing Trebuchet right now, so she’s okay for the minute. Don’t you love it when the all powerful decide to mess around instead of, ya know, killing everyone?

The line sounded like something his brother would say. It was a jarring expression, shifting his focus just enough to make him think about what Elijah would be doing. Dramatic final stands were his department, not the fearful young mage lacking in social confidence. He tried to play out the situation in his head a dozen ways, but a one-on-one was just suicidal, even if the warlock didn’t have that horn in his hands.

“Ohryn, I’m going to link us up with Mia, okay? I think I have a plan to get us out of here. Maybe. Possibly. If we don’t die.”

[Hermia]

Oh. Hermia responded. We’re all going to die.

Magically synthesized adrenaline surged like a torrent in her blood and the thought completely failed to terrify her. You were a decent fellow, Josiah. Worth a whole school of mages. I’m quite honored to have known you.

She imagined Josiah would be blushing on the other side anyway.

Don’t make me get a squirt bottle, a dragon chimed in.

You optimistic people and your… optimism. Hermia flicked her wand at a tree arcing too near, muttered a phrase and watched it waft away on an unfelt breeze. It’s almost enough to make one hope. The next thing I know I’ll be smiling at children.

No. No you won’t, the dragon said flatly.

The deforestation is spreading in our direction, she thought back at him. If you’d mind hurrying it over, that’d be appreciated. Here - She lifted a thin hoop, cobalt blue metal with crimson threads laced around it, forming intricate patterns that glowed faintly. A new addition to the device came in the form of multiple snowdrop buds, previously claimed from the fallen hunter’s armor. Fly through this on the way in. I think we’ve had quite enough of Mr Newton and his Third Law.

“Change in plan,” she announced out loud to her equine audience. “Everyone stay together. Get ready to move. We’re going to join up with Josiah. We all like Josiah, don’t we?”

The herd perked up at once. All of them.

“Yes, we’re going to Josiah.” I will not cackle. I will not cackle. I will not cackle. It was so hard, so very hard, with the potion buzzing through her veins and making sparks pop in her thoughts. “But you musn’t distract him, so don’t get too close to him, don’t touch him, make sure he has enough space to work…”

An entire herd’s worth of equine shoulders slumped.

“...until all this is over.”

An entire herd’s worth of horned equine heads lifted hopefully.

Wait, is this thing still on?

Misting water sprayed her from the side, right before the dragon took the charm away from her.

You are a bad, bad person.

[Josiah Gray]

Josiah worked feverishly on the task set in front of him, doing his best to ignore what he just heard over the link and to focus on what his own mind was doing instead. Ohryn hadn’t left his side, the weighty hands on his shoulders carrying the healing force with it - allowing Josiah to work fast without worry. Half a dozen branches were being used to carve out symbols on the ground, foreign runes from another land, whole sentences inscribed at a rapid click.

Big hands gave him what was supposed to be a reassuring squeeze. “They’ll behave if Oi say so.”

The mage shivered.

“Not. Helping,” he replied softly, trying to keep ignoring alternative threats. Earth-carved glyphs glowed blue as his energy sunk into the ground and came back up, radiating a palpable field around them. Similar symbols were repeated, as much as possible, reinforcing the magic aura around them - which happened to reinforce Ohryn’s own magic as well.

It was a circular pattern of reinforcement. Josiah had only done it once or twice before. Ohryn’s healing magic allowed him to push himself harder, further. The runes created a field that intensified their own magic, strengthening Ohryn in turn - and Ohryn, to Josiah. It took time, to craft it, to orchestrate it; time, already in short supply. The young mage hoped that Lord and Hermia were fine giving them that. They’d need the spirit and the fox in the end, too.

He didn’t see them managing to overcome a walking force of nature otherwise.

The unicorn’s hands kept massaging.

“Yer doin’ good work,” he said. The next gentle squeeze pressed heat into the back of his neck with one hand, and rubbed healing warmth across his upper back with the other. It freed him to take a deeper breath - reminded him, to keep breathing, even in the face of looming destruction. Take the cool air in, hold it, and exhale all the bad.

“Okay, that’s helping,” Josiah almost whispered. The mystic array grew steadily bigger.

[Hermia]

“I’m not wearing a collar.” The dragon looked down at the fox like he wanted to eat a small vulpine lady, and she was the only one around.

“It’s not a collar.” Hermia folded her arms, mirroring the dragon’s adamant posture, and stared her several-foot-taller doom in the eye. “It’s a gorget. An armor piece worn by knights to protect the throat, shoulders and upper chest. It’s practical, yet dignifying.”

“It looks like a collar,” he growled back, looming further over her. “I don’t care if it’s deus ex machina in a can, I’m not wearing -”

Another tree shattered upon landing - this one, alight with flame, setting up a harsh blaze only seconds after hitting the ground. The dragon looked down at her, and imagined the many different ways she would fit in his teeth.

”Vocet pruina.” A wave of her wand coated the nearest section of the ground in hoarfrost, slowing the flames. “Get moving. We don’t have time to argue. Wear the gorget.”

The glare only got worse. He added a rumbling predatory noise from his chest, while he focused on imaginary teeth gnashing hard on imaginary fox limbs. He’d save a femur for a tooth pick. Then somehow Josiah inserted himself into his imagination, and gave that disapproving look normally reserved for disobedient children. His eyes rolled away from her.

“... Give me the stupid thing. I’ll plot your demise later.”

She retrieved the hoop from where it had fallen and held it out to the dragon. He practically slapped it out of her hand as he took it, and secured it around his spectral neck. The thin metal piece stretched and warped, metal spreading out and taking on an ethereal appearance. Red motes pulsed along the threads, travelling like current in a circuit. The snowdrops remained fixed in place, shining with their own steady white light.

A hurried wave to the milling unicorns directed them to move. “In case this does end in our demise… I suppose you were alright too.” Hermia crossed her fingers.

The spirit’s claws clenched tightly into fists, blue energy smoking off of them as he stomped just a bit closer towards the coming warlock. “In case this does end in our demise, I don’t really eat anything.”

Hermia turned. “Conroboro me.” Indigo light pulsed between her forehead and ran under her skin, into the veins of her wand arm. She swept it at the waiting unicorns. “Offuscare.”

White stars gleamed at the tip of several horns as they caught her spell in their own magic, focusing it, redoubling it. The gathered herd wavered like a mirage. The next moment, they weren’t there. The imprints of their hooves in the grass faded, leaving undisturbed soil behind.

“You realize, of course, that won’t delay me long?” the voice sounded far too close, where the elf was leaning against a tree - completely relaxed in posture, toying with the horn in between his hands.

The dragon spirit whirled in his direction, stepping between the two flavors of fey. Hermia turned, too, dropping to one knee, but her wand swiveled to aim at Lord instead. “Impervius.” As the spell settled into golden light around the dragon’s skin, she snatched at the nearest thing in her inventory - ending up with a bottle full of highly flammable salamander dung.

Could be worse.. She threw it at the elf and took aim with her wand. ”Incendio!”

The bottle arced through the air, turning end over end, and exploded into a ripe-smelling conflagration halfway to its target.

The dark elf barely even moved his wand hand, and violet magic streaked out of it to a tree off to his left side. In a flash, the massive plant was rent from its roots, and flew end over end in front of the elf, interceding between him and the firey disaster en route. The tree levitated higher up as he pointed the wand skyward, out of his line of sight. A slight vexation passed over his face as he realized fox and spirit had fled again.

“Not long,” he said loudly, flicking his wand and haphazardly launching the bonfire tree somewhere else under the dome. “Not long at all...”

[Josiah Gray]

It wasn’t enough for the elf to rip out of the ground the product of dozens of years of slow, arboreal life, and send it flying to death - all with a flick of his hand. Oh no, he had to give it a twist, too, and sent the aged tree through the forest like a spinning top, crashing and ripping through obstructions.

The dragon grabbed Mia as they ran, pulling her to the side as the flying death spiral missed them by inches.

“Do you think he’s getting bored?” the guardian spirit asked. He gestured, and a quick series of marks were burned at the base of a tree.

“Better than… focused.” Hermia gasped. “Whatever keeps him playing. Not killing.”

If he was out to kill them, they’d all be dead. They had no doubts about it. “Your coll- gorget. It deflects magic and impacts. Some of it, anyway.” She snatched the lizard-on-a-stick wand from one pocket and gripped it tight. Indigo fires flickered under her fingertips, gathering into a small point of light in the center of the gaping maw. Her other hand found the dragon’s ectoplasmic form and pressed against it. “Impervius. Get in his face and… try to eat him?”

“Play with him? Isn’t that what we’re doing by -” the forest interrupted him, trees shredding in the path of another arboreal tornado. The dragon took hold of Mia, flew straight up into the air over the wrecking ball of a tree, then dropped them back a ways away. Another gesture saw more marks burned at the base of a bush. “By not getting killed?”

“Probably - Offuscare - all the same to him. Never mind.” Her incantation took hold, and both their forms faded from sight. “Need you to draw his attention so I can shoot him in the back. Or stab him. Something. He’ll vaporize me if he knows I’m there.”

Josiah, how’s the spellwork coming?

Close now. But we’ll still need the two of you here, alive, if we’re going to have a chance, the young mage said back fast.

A sudden beam of violet lightning burned its way through the trees, punching a solid hole through everything in its way. Then the beam suddenly carved left, so Lord grabbed Mia and hit the ground with her before it could bisect them, too. Dozens of trees started falling over at once, freshly chopped by the energy beam. Lord let loose a pulse of his own magic, blue light bashing away a pair that seemed ready to fall on them.

“Lady, I don’t think we have time for eating him,” the dragon complained, helping her back onto her feet begrudgingly. “Just take some potshots and hope for the best, or better, put some tracking on it!”

The air crackled nearby, and Lord looked up sharply at where the dark elf lazed upon one of the decapitated tree trunks.

“Tracking blasts. There’s an idea!” he said with a malevolent excitement.

... Shit.

I agree completely. Hermia turned, lunged, and the lizard’s mouth spat a shrieking lance of white-hot fire, unleashing all the magic she’d loaded into the wand at once.

The elf seemed too close to dodge it, but it was hard to tell if he needed to. Mystic white flames exploded against his chest, knocking him clear off the tree he’d killed. He was already getting up before the smoke had stopped rising off his chest, with its own runic threads armoring him. The dragon grabbed her and ran before the wizard even had time to shout back “That almost hurt!!”

Two more violet beams sliced through the trees. Then the air whistled as a different style of magic raced after them, missiles of that same colored magic chasing after the dragon and fox.

Keep running the dragon ordered, halting his movement and turning sharply around. His own magic glowed around his entire body, a blue star going supernova, before he condensed it all down into his hands. The missile tore straight for him. Hands, gripping together, swung hard at the missile like it was a baseball. It refused to be deflected.

The explosion sent the dragon rag-dolling through the air off to his right.

[Hermia]

Another violet bolt streaked past where the dragon had just been, easily gaining on Hermia. The crackle of magic grew louder, fell light illuminating her silhouette in sharper and starker relief with each moment.

Couldn’t outrun it. Nothing left but to -

“Oppilorbis!” Solid concrete was materializing in a dome before she whirled, wand directing the hemisphere to place itself in the way of the blast. The impact shattered her defense, leaving grey dust and twinkling purple sparks behind. Yet another bolt roared through the cloud.

She flinched and threw out an arm. Her reflexes were enough to meet the missile with a torrent of flame - a candle against the hurricane, only sufficient to spark a magical reaction that turned the gathered magic into a detonation of concussive force.

She didn’t quite manage to phase through the blast. Her body went arcing up. Gravity caught her and pulled her down, and she vanished into the mud with a splash. She was hardly up onto her hands and knees before a familiar, deadly crackle was approaching. She turned, and saw the violet light at the end of the tunnel - cut off by an equally familiar blue one.

The dragon stood poised over the fox fey, body alight, arms crossed over his chest and head. The wizard’s flesh-incinerating missile crashed dead on with the spectral guardian, an explosion of energy just barely repelled by a mix of the dragon’s, the fox’s, and the mass of snowdrops adorning his neck.

With a snort of white frost, the draconic figure shook off the flames from his arms. “Hot hot hot hot hot.”

Hermia clawed more mud from her face, baring her teeth in a distinctly feral expression. She withdrew the one salvaged crystal sphere from the folds of her skirt and crushed it underfoot, one wand already jabbing in a no-nonsense gesture to bring her will down on the emerging bees.

”Oppugno,” she gritted out, and flung her arm out in the direction of the missiles. Stinging insects whipped around them like a hailstorm and charged without a buzz of complaint.

[Josiah Gray]

The forest ached. More than once, more than twice, the earth itself shook beneath their feet as somewhere a spectral dragon and fox fey accomplice were doing battle with veritable monster of magic. More than once, the hefty unicorn had to hold Josiah up, lest the earthquake knock him down.

“Oi got ya. Oi got ya. Keep going, lad,” the beast chanted his encouragement like it was a magic spell on its own, and encouragement was something Josiah sorely needed. Flashes of the battle kept pressing in on his awareness, of clairvoyance terrified and on overdrive, like his fear was a living thing trying to jump out of his flesh. The comforting warmth of the unicorn’s magic supported him, but only barely.

Death was coming, and he wasn’t ready.

But he didn’t have time.

“Ohryn,” Josiah muttered, gulped. “Hands on my shoulders. Don’t let go. Don’t move. This is going to hurt. Me.”

His spine shivered with the full awareness of that.

His right hand lifted palm upwards to his side. His left hand kept its palm down, and he exhaled a brilliant white mist of frost. At their feet, all around, another kind of frost was spreading. The great array of spells, lined all around, kept its blue shine as smallest crystals of ice crept over it. The ice spread like a fire licking the ground. It moved of its own accord, and quickly consumed every plant in its way.

Bushes frosted over in seconds. Trees, they took a moment more. The air itself plummeted lower and lower, abated only by the unicorn’s healing warmth. Josiah’s eyes began to radiate with the same cerulean glow as the kanji in the ground, and as they did, his arms moved.

Shaking as he fought against some invisible resistance, his right hand lifted up - spikes of ice growing up with them, fashioning new trees, enlarging the ones already consumed. His left hand pressed down, twisting back and forth by inches. The atmosphere itself seemed to hiss alive, dust like smoke rising up from the ground, a mist, frigid and consuming.

The mage’s breath huffed out in haggard exhales, frost from his own lips. Pale skin went marble white. The violence in the forest continued still, but the trees refused to shake or dance any longer, coated in solid ice as they were. A branch fell, and shattered - here, there.

Now would be a good time!! the dragon almost yelled over the mental connection. Barely a moment later, and the spectral guardian himself was blasted into the newly-icy clearing, the fox fey clinging to his back. A frantic wave of one outflung arm and a yelled incantation from the fox caught the pair in a gust of wind, pulling ethereal flesh several feet short of crashing into the other pair.

“Yes, I think now will have to do,” Josiah stuttered out rapidly.

The dark elf was after them only a moment more, where he was almost lazily crouched on a floating violet disc of energy.

“Oh look,” the dark elf drawled, “The toys are all together now!”

Mia, now would be a good time for chanting please kay thanks, he thought even more rapidly.

[Hermia]

The vile wizard looked away from his collection of victims, and observed the state of the forest around them, with its fresh layer of winter spread so dangerously strong on everything.

“Hmm. I like what you’ve done with the place,” the elf teased. He jumped off the levitating disc, and his feet crushed into the snow. “Really brings out that sense of death, you know?”

Ow. Hermia’s slightly dazed mental voice rang out as she disengaged herself from the crash site. Kill him. Kill. Where’s my wand - she glanced about, spotted it half a yard away, scowled, and thought-projected a wordless emotion that resounded like a scream and a snarl and grinding teeth.

She reached for the nearest inscription on the ground. “Et fortis non sumus. Et fortis non sumus. Et fortis non sumus,” she muttered, and her open palm lit up with a dancing blue flame as she settled it over the spellwork. ”Et fortis non sumus. Et fortis non sumus…” Again and again she repeated the words, letting the magic build and radiate throughout the collective.

Again the elf gave that mocking laugh, brimming with the arrogant self-confidence that comes from squashing so many innocents like a bug.

“Oh my. Was this your plan? Really?” the wizard mocked further, hands behind him as he leaned in. “A few spells of empowerment, and you think you can play with the big boys?”

“M-Mister,” Josiah’s voice trembled from behind Hermia. She kept her eyes on the inscription and the bile down her throat, and fought against everything inside her to keep from looking up at her certain doom.

“A comment from the peanut gallery? Oh, please, do go ahead! I like last words!” The wizard laughed all the more viciously.

The youth’s swallow was loud enough for everyone to hear. His answer though was barely above a whisper.

“... Please leave, kay?”

“Et fortis non sumus et fortis non sumus et fortis non sumus -” there was no mistaking the grating tone that had crept into her voice, or the mental image she projected of a palm forcefully applying itself to her forehead.

[Josiah Gray]

Aghast, the dragon was compelled to ask, That’s … that’s it?

The dark wizard gave the most uproarious laugh, clutching his free hand against his chest as he let it bellow out with complete abandon. Josiah had a most uncomfortable shiver, but the wizard just kept on laughing.

“Please leave, kay,” the elf mocked aloud. “Please leave, kay?? That’s, that’s really all you’ve got??”

The dragon himself gave a muffled growl, the magic aura around him just as hard and bright as ever. He slammed his right fist into his left palm, and imagined the dark elf was getting squished in between.

“Go away. Go away, and we won’t kill you. How about that?” Lord said, taking it upon himself to give a proper threat. “Take your men. Leave. You can have all the fun you want poaching and killing another day, but this day? There are consequences, and none end very pleasantly for you.”

The wizard scoffed just once. He toyed with the tip of his unicorn horn wand, replying, “You know, I think I like the boy’s version better. Could you say that again? I’d really like to savor that memory, for the future.”

Josiah felt like he was shrinking by the moment.

“Téigh trasna ort féin!” the unicorn shouted from where he was, standing tall and supporting the mage still.

“Pity,” the wizard fake-sighed.

Big as a pillar, a flash of deadly violet flames lanced forth from the wizard’s wand. The dragon thrust both hands forward, the blue aura around him concentrating the most in front as he braced himself for the blast. In their sheer radiance, the two overpowering magics threatened to drown out what little sunlight they had. Eyelids had to blink the blindness away.

The sneer on the dark elf’s features was the most unpleasant he looked since they first saw him. “So you survived that. Want a medal?” He stalked slowly to the right. The four of them shifted in turn. “You’re still going to die here, cretins. It’s been fun, making you cower for your miserable little lives, but I have unicorns to kill, horns to sell, minions to hire.”

“Josiah!!” the dragon shouted his name insistently.

“Just go,” Josiah found himself unexpectedly pleading.

[Josiah Gray]

The wizard fired a blast of violet light, once, twice, quick blasts that the dragon somehow managed to ward off head-on, thanks to the numerous empowering spells being laid down. The wizard adapted, flinging a dozen firey orbs wide into the air, arcing all up and around. The guardian spirit was forced to enclose the four of them in a great dome-like barrier, his arms out wide as he struggled to stabilize it against each crashing explosion trying to get at them.

“I don’t want to kill him!” the mage tried to protest what had to be done - what everyone knew, what no one was saying.

JOSIAH, THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO HOLD BACK!! the dragon yelled into his mind as the cerulean barrier evaporated.

The young mage closed his eyes. He didn’t want, didn’t need to see it. Hands clenched at his sides. Frozen trees and the spikes of ice, too - they shattered into snowflakes closest to the group. A slight wind whipped up so much more slowly, making the flakes dance, catching the light this way and that. It was beautiful. It was innocent.

The wizard didn’t even move, retaining confidence unabated by the soft, wintry display.

“Snow flakes? A dusting?” he shouted derisively.

Lord, he gulped. Now

The dragon acted immediately, slamming his fist into the ground. The layer of frost covering the ground jumped straight up, a rippling wave extending from where they stood that doubly intensified the innocent flurry into something thicker. The runic array below lit up bright blue again, with an extra line established in the center. All throughout the wizard’s cage, under the violet barrier’s field, matching marks lit up as well - left behind by a spirit who spent too much time getting blasted around.

Dimensional Anchor in place.

For once, the wizard looked unnerved. If he felt the magic suddenly inhibiting a teleport’s quick escape, Josiah couldn’t tell. Perhaps it was only the light of a dozen unicorn horns, shining through the snowstorm behind the group of four, that caused the wizard some uncertainty. The herd’s own magic radiated, like starlight, like sunlight, and Ohryn’s horn matched their intensity just as brightly. He was illuminated, glowing with a vibrant white flame, and he channeled that energy directly into the young mage through his supportive grasp.

His playfully sadistic attitude lost, the angered, defiant elf shouted out obscenities in a language unknown, in what Josiah could only assume was the latest in a long line of death threats and mockeries. The elf whipped up a new spell, and sent a spiraling drill of energy crashing towards them - only to be caught by a spectral guardian who refused to let down his charge. The skin of his ghostly hands shredded into ether as the drill pushed him back, its vicious tip digging centimeter by centimeter into the Lord’s chest. The spirit’s gritted teeth seemed to nearly foam from effort and pain.

Josiah swallowed.

“Sorry.”

Everything - every inch, every scrap of power they had dragged together - he wrested it together with his mind at the helm, and turned it all on their would-be murderer.

All at once, the snow flurry stopped. The white dust, sparkling in the air, shining on their own with all that magic, hung still for all of three seconds. Then it happened: a billion billion molecular blades - half a forest’s worth of snowflakes - flung themselves like bullets, like lasers, towards the dark wizard. They shredded apart his armor’s mystic defenses, leaving just him against the crashing frost.

Josiah thought he sensed a last ditch defense, a barrier, trying to hold back the blizzard’s intensity. But it broke, fast, pierced through, and it vanished along with the drill of energy.

The violet barrier thinned and wavered, and was gone like smoke in the wind.

The snowman left behind was barely humanoid. Layer upon layer of ice and snow had covered up his body, leaving only curves, not lines, like a statue dunked in cement. Nothing could be made from the sphere of a head, or any of his joints. The unicorn horn wand was the only thing left exposed, still partially held in what had once been the elf’s hand.

A few late flakes still danced on the air, before they drifted down onto the earthen ground.

“I think we got him,” Josiah thought he heard himself speak.

Two lines of blood dripped thickly from his nose.

“...Oh.”

He only didn’t hit the ground, because Ohryn was already there to catch his unconscious form.

[Hermia]

“I suppose we’re done, then.” Hermia withdrew her arm from the glyph and stood. “Accio.” Her wand disappeared from the distant corner of her vision, magic pulling it back into her hand. She stood and circled the vanquished elf, ignoring the murmur of curious hoofbeats behind her. The frozen thing seemed uninterested in her approach.

“Vitae revelio.” The barely humanoid object didn’t respond to the mystical command. Nothing glowed beneath. “Diaphanus,” she suggested next. The snow shimmered and obediently turned transparent, the ruptured flesh and frozen crimson needles beneath the surface became all too apparent, and she promptly turned the same color as Josiah.

At least she’d already thrown up all her breakfast.

The spirit dragon looked very much like he should have been panting, if ghosts breathed at all. The expression on his face was a clear wince, and the mystic damage to his ethereal form was blatantly obvious, and only slowly healing. The eyes were also acutely glaring at Ohryn and the other unicorns.

The warning went completely unheeded as the keeper gingerly lowered himself to one knee and eased Josiah to the ground. He stayed kneeling, the mage’s head cradled against his elbow, pressed his free hand over the center of the man’s chest and held him close while healing white fire flickered over them both. The other unicorns closed in, one lowering its horn to nudge the bucket hat off Josiah’s brow.

Hermia raised her wand in a shaking hand. ”D-discutio,” she stammered, and a few impotent sparks jumped and scattered without effect. She sobbed in a breath, raised her arm and brought it down like an axe. ”Fraendo!”

The spell energy rippled out like a shockwave and reduced the grotesque figurine to pink mist. She turned back, grisly task accomplished, and was immediately bowled over by a few hundred pounds of affectionate horned foal.

“No,” she protested weakly at the snout nuzzling her shoulder. “Stop that. I’m a bad person. I just pureed an elf. Go away.”

Ohryn chuckled. “Oi think it means she likes ya!”

Everything made dreadful, complete sense. “She.” The fox-fey’s pulled herself back up to her feet and tried not to panic. The alleged filly nuzzled the back of her head in agreement. “Lord, would you be so kind as to turn yourself into a woman for a few minutes?”

“I’ll eat you.” The spectral reptile gnashed his very sharp translucent teeth and flexed his equally sharp ectoplasmic fingers, which seemed perfectly murder-worthy despite being shredded down to slowly healing bones. “I’ll straight up eat you and tell Josiah you left.”

“Alright I’ll just sit here Ohryn give the virgin back to the nice dragon right now please.”

“Can’t do that, lass.” The massive white-furred hand moved in steady circles, massaging the skin beneath it, trailing its magic over the slowly breathing man. “Not until he’s fine. But he’ll be fine. Not ter worry.”