Not big at first. Just tall. Too tall. Its arms dragged along the ground. Limbs made of splintered wood and stone twisted together, like the mountain itself had decided to get up and walk.
No face. Just a skull. Wide. Hollow. Etched with something that shimmered when it shouldn't have.
The others drew weapons.
Except Meren. Meren was shaking.
Lindarion reached for his sword.
It wasn't there.
He looked down. His hands were empty.
No flame.
No mana.
Not even a spark.
He tried to step forward.
His legs didn't listen.
Ren shouted something. He couldn't hear it. Not clearly. Her voice cracked through the snow like it was underwater.
Lira moved.
Fast.
She lunged at the thing. Her blade flashed once. Black like her shadows, like her eyes when they narrowed before a kill.
It didn't help.
The creature's arm came down and swept her sideways like she weighed nothing.
Lindarion screamed.
But it didn't leave his throat.
It stayed inside. Burning.
Then it turned toward him.
