Archibald had finally convinced his father to let him outside. Only a few short months later, Archibald was layered in bags and pockets. Every inch of his body was covered in storage, and he barely managed to stand with the weight of everyone’s gear piled onto him. He could barely hold back his smile.
The group was small, just the survivors of the first mission and a few others, and Archibald was still the youngest by far.
He followed his siblings out, stepping back into the purple shimmer that surrounded the tower. Peter led the group now, trotting carefully into the forest. He leapt over bushes, crawled behind tree trunks, and wormed beneath a log that the others merely stepped over.
Then a rustling came ahead. He raised his hand, gesturing for the others to stop. As he peered out into the forest, he saw a tiger, striped with purple and yellow. Its whiskers slithered out along the ground, weaving invisibly through the grass. Its blank, white eyes flickered from side to side.
Peter gestured to the side, and the group began to walk around the back of the tiger. It was nearly out of view when Archibald stepped on a twig, letting out a snap that echoed into the trees.
The tiger spun around to face them, and an inauspicious screech came from above. The tiger looked through them. For a moment, no one dared to move, but when one of Archibald’s siblings broke to the pressure, he took off, and a bird swooped them, snatching him up. Veronica grabbed its leg before it could fly off, planting her feet in the ground and bracing against a tree.
Peter suddenly went flying, yanked by a whisker of the tiger. “My rings!” he yelled, “Archie, throw me my rings!”
“Help!” Veronica called out, “Someone help! I need my wand!”
Archibald stood between the two.
“My rings!”
He had both the rings and the wand in his pockets.
“My wand!”
Veronica seemed to be slipping.
“Archie!”
But Peter was struggling, barely avoiding the now unhinged jaw of the tiger.
“Help!”
Their voices blurred into static.
“Archie! Wand! Where? Help! Rings! Slipping! Help-”
He reached down into his pocket. At his fingertips, he felt a set of rings jingling. Pulling out the first ring, he tossed it to Peter, and the ring slipped gently onto his older brother’s finger.
“Kravas!” Peter cried, and the tiger flinched back. Its whiskers rewound, dropping Peter to the ground. Archibald threw the rest of the rings, and Peter, slipping each ring on, turned to Veronica. “Bereva!” he said, sending a bolt of flame to the bird.
As Archibald reached behind to a pocket on his back, the tree that Veronica was holding onto caught fire. It singed to ash, and the bird yanked its foot free. Archibald pulled out Veronica’s wand, throwing it to her.
Veronica dove for it, landing in the dirt and throwing her arm up towards the sky. “Pierosa!” she yelled, and the bird seemed to grow until its tail was back in the treetops. Then, the rest of its body caught up, and it was pulled down to its normal size, now fluttering in the trees.
“Skak!” Peter said, and hands of ice reached out of the ground, wrapping around the bird. At the touch of the hands, the bird was overcome by the ice. It froze, and its grip on Archibald’s sibling weakened.
As the tiger now leapt at the group, Veronica raised her wand, crying, “Tupo frieren!”
It stopped midair.
The siblings regathered. Before they could catch their breath, Peter said, “I think the bag mule idea was… faulty. We need to keep our weapons on us. If I hadn’t caught my ring, it’s hard to imagine what would have happened.”
Archibald handed out his siblings’ tools. Each had their own, specialised to them. When he handed out the last one, Peter turned to him, saying, “Archie, don’t you have a weapon?”
Archibald raised his hands. “I can activate my magic when I clap,” he explained.
Peter rolled his eyes, and a scoff came behind them.
“Weapons?” said an archaic voice, “What worthless creatures you humans must be to need weapons. I will put you out of your miseries, if you desire so.”
It was a tall man. He wore a full suit, frilled like a gentleman and coloured a marbling of red and white. His tongue flicked at his collar, swiping it from red to white, and the scent of blood rose with his tongue as it came back to his mouth. His skin was stone, and his eyes were a blank white.
“I jest,” the man continued, noting the children’s silence, “Your desire means nothing to me. Truthfully, I want you to fight back. I want you to run. Go ahead, try to escape, or try to stop me. It only brings me more joy.”
“Kravas!” Peter said. Unlike the tiger, this man did not flinch.
“What is the purpose of your tools?” the man asked, “Do they not do anything?”
As Archibald stumbled back, his siblings all began to attack, sending a flurry of magic at the man. He stepped unharmed through the barrage. “I was told that there would be sorcerers in the human realm,” the man said, “But there are only children. Less for exercise, more for fun, I suppose.”
He reached down to his side, lifting one of Archibald’s siblings into the air. “If I eat you,” the demon whispered into the boy’s ear, “I’m sure many will give in. So, I’ll just have to immobilise you. You know, give them hope to save you.” Now yelling, he said, “Propt!”
The boy’s legs were pulled in each direction, and they snapped upwards. Looking down at the rest of the children, the demon threw the boy to the ground and said, “I suppose you should bring him to find medical assistance.”
He gestured to the boy and waited. No one stepped forwards.
“Did I not need to break his legs to keep you all from running? What a pleasure!”
He reached his hand forward, and a bony spear jutted out from his palm. It moved to another of Archibald’s siblings, but she knocked it away. As she grabbed a hold of the spear still half lodged in the demon’s palm, Peter dove for his brother. He began dragging him towards the tower.
Laughing at the girl, the demon raised his arm and brought it down over the bone, snapping it off. As he went to slice at her skull, however, Veronica cried out, “Pierosa!” and the girl was tugged out of the way of the attack. But the demon turned his attention to Peter and the boy.
He took a step forward. A string of lightning spun around him, but he snapped it and continued moving towards Peter.
The trees bent down to push him back, but he shredded them out of his way, sending wood chips behind him.
Attacks burst out at him again, now trying more to buy Peter time than to hurt the demon.
When he was at an arm’s reach of Peter, he lifted his finger, and a needle shot out, but before it did anything, Archibald slammed his hands together, and the needle narrowly missed. Peter continued to drag his brother.
Another needle shot out, but Archibald clapped again. This time, the needle was sent backward. With a glare, the demon growled and brought his arm back. His nails sharpened into bone talons. Lifting his hand above Peter, he readied to end the boy’s life. As the talons fell, Archibald clapped for a third time.
The demon was stopped. He was frozen only for a moment before he turned to Archibald and leapt with both hands outstretched. Then, Veronica caught one of his arms. Then, another sibling caught his other arm, and another grabbed him by his torso, and they all piled onto him.
“You stopped me?” the demon said, his voice quivering gently, “What kind of… child are you?”
“I decided…” Archibald said, stepping up to the restrained demon, “I decided… that you wouldn’t hurt Peter. I decided that you would stop. I decided that you could be stopped.”
“But I… I can’t be… no…”
Archibald raised his arm, but before he clapped, he saw a mound on the demon’s face. It spun around, travelling down his neck. Then, another mound grew, and another, until his body was covered in lines and dots.
“You won’t seal me,” the demon shrieked, his voice now unrecognisably jagged.
Archibald clapped, creating a burst of wind that pushed the children off the demon. As they all lost their grips on him, blades of bone all shot out, shredding the demon and tearing apart the grass and trees nearby.
The demon let out ancient shrieks, the children pressing against their ears. They writhed on the ground. Finally, his screeches stopped, and Archibald and his siblings got back to their feet.
They saw him, now a tattered pile of flesh. “Hey, Peter?” Archibald called out, “Don’t we need to collect samples?”
ns216.73.217.120da2
and then Add to home screen.