Wyvern Tails and Phoenix Feathers

The Porcelain Heart, Chapter 5 - Eloise

The rocky flesh was harder than Eloise anticipated. Her axe could hardly dent the golem's neck. From blade to handle, the impact rattled the bones in her forearm and sent a stabbing ache to her elbow. She shook it off and dropped from the golem's shoulder to the sand.

Glancing at her adversary, she assessed its body shape. The golem had a wide upper back that tapered only slightly into its neck and head. In hindsight, it wasn't much of a weak point; the neck was thicker than most tree trunks. She decided leaning heavily on Bryn's magic would be the best strategy for battle.

But Bryn was nowhere to be found. Nor was Revelyn, nor Grael, nor the potter from Magrite. She couldn't hear familiar magical casting or athletic grunting. Instead, beyond the rampaging golems, Eloise found a dark hole, as if the ground had shattered like fragile china.

As the three monsters converged, she darted and slid between their slow-moving limbs. The nature of the hole became more apparent up close; the dusty dome was made of old glass and her companions had fallen through. Her mind became awash with the worst-case scenarios. The most morbid thought, of course, was that they were all dead; her friend, her lover, and an innocent were casualties in the quest to bring Oran back to life. She would likely die soon after, pummeled into an unrecognizable paste by overpowered enemies.

The sky darkened.

No, Eloise realized, that was the shadow of a Golem's fist descending. She dove and rolled onto her back, knocking the wind out of herself. She felt the shake of the earth as sediment rained on her face.

When the dust settled, she found the golem's second fist already on its way to the ground. She had to move again, but she doubted her ability to do so in time. At best, she was looking at a flattened leg.

Salvation arrived in the form of Grael. They had become a cheetah racing across the sand. Leaping into the air at high speed, they transformed into a golem themselves and struck Eloise's assailant across the jaw with a tremendous crack. It staggered to one side, somehow managing to resist toppling over.

Grael landed between Eloise and the golems, completely vulnerable to attack. But as a pair of massive arms collided with Grael's back, Eloise was surprised to see them crumble away. The armless golem conveyed as much confusion as an emotionless rock could, but Eloise understood; Bryn's icy magic had made it quite brittle. If only the young mage had managed to do the same to all three before he fell through the dome.

The third golem pushed past its damaged brother to grapple with Grael. Its mitts dug into the changeling's shoulders and pushed them back several paces. Grael's feet left ravines in the sand. Eloise scrambled to all fours and grabbed onto Grael's calf. They were remarkably easy to climb. The assembled rocks that made a golem's flesh were divided by fissures wide enough to fit human fingers and toes.

Eloise made her way onto Grael's back, raised her axe, and hacked at the golem's wrist. After three successive whacks, the aggressor's grip weakened enough for Grael to knock it aside.

In an instant, Grael shifted into a horse and took off into a gallop. Eloise had to adjust her grip around Grael's neck to keep from falling off. Bruises discolored Grael's shoulders and blood dripped from their front leg.

They slowed several stretches away in the shade of another structure and collapsed into the form of a young man. The injuries remained. Grael, for the first time, appeared panicked.

"There are too many," they panted.

Their forehead dripped with sweat. Eloise couldn't help but notice Grael, in their distress, had made unusual choices with their wardrobe. They wore a short skirt made of wooden beads and a vest of woven grass. The dripping red blood from their knuckles, however, was a more pertinent development.