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Chapter 3: Prenderghast

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"Is he going to be alright, Doctor Richmond?" 

"He should be, you got him here quickly. That's a great help." A large man with grey hair and mustache said, examining Emory's burned-out eyes and carefully setting the wounded man's head back onto the cot. He wiped his hands on his apron, adding new stains to the long since dried rust-colored multitudes. "Give me a moment to work, and he should be right as rain." 

"Is there anything you need? I can-" The surgeon gave her a withering look. 

"Sergeant Prenderghast."  

"Uh, yes sir?"

"I said he'd be fine. Private Murphy here and I have even developed a rapport, he's been under my care so many times in the last year alone." Emory held up a shaky thumb and gave a weak smile in response. "Now please take a step back." 

Surgeon Richmond grabbed a nearby camp stool, sat down, and picked up a fiddle leaned against the leg of the cot. The fiddle was the surgeon's Gift, given to him by a goddess years ago as a reward for his service. Fidelity practically had the story memorized at this point, since he told it to every patient he had regardless of if they'd been under his care before. Readying himself, he pulled the bow across the strings in a gentle note.

"E major." Prenderghast couldn't help but think as the surgeon started playing. For a moment, she could imagine herself in her family's living room, making the same movement. "I swear Richmond, it's like you try to make me homesick."

Where the doctor's fingers touched the fiddle's strings as he played, a pulse of mint green light was created. Each little mote of light danced to the song, floating down the line of wounded until several twisted and spun in place over each of their wounds. It almost seemed as if a host of fairies had descended on the darkened interior of the fishery, bringing their infectious songs with them.

Emory relaxed his grip on the cots sheet finally and settled back as the song continued. 

"Looks like we've gotten away scot-free for another day, eh Sergeant?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, it seems we have." Fidelity said, paying more attention to the surgeon playing his fiddle than her squadmate. "I only hope our luck holds out. We keep cutting it rather close, Gawen." 

"You mean that business with the Major General?" 

"Of course." 

"That was incredible, wasn't it? The way Colonel Gest leapt from the second floor into that water god, and the Major General shooting stars. Always takes my breath away, and I never thought I'd see it up close-!"

"Gawen, It almost killed us just being near the Major General during that." 

His excitement died a little as he followed Fidelity away from Richmond's fiddle and the now slumbering form of Emory. 

"I guess..." His eyes continued to sparkle. "Hey, maybe the Major General will give us a Gift for our actions!"

Fidelity looked back to Gawen, then over his shoulder at another line of forms near the area the surgeons were working. Not on the cots, but lined on the floor, covered in sheets.

"Maybe Gawen, maybe." He always was a little naïve.  

Over by the water-lock, she could see the rest of her squad looking down towards the ship the Major General and Colonel had entered a quarter-hour before. At her approach, the largest of them stiffened his posture. 

"Sergeant!" 

"Anyone else hurt?"

"No Ma'am. Bar the usual cuts and scrapes we're all good to go."

"Thank the four winds. What about the Major General?" 

"Nothing since they went in. Do you think everything is alright?"

Gawen stuck his head into the conversation.  

"Hopefully! If two gods can't deal with it, how could we?" He seemed to scare himself with his statement and stepped to the railing to look intently at the ship.

"If there hasn't been any noise, I can't imagine anything horrible has happened. Plus, Gawen's right. All we can do is sit and wait."

"Of course, Ma'am." 

Fidelity joined the rest of her squad at the railing, still listening to the slow tune Richmond was playing. 

"Hey... sergeant?" Gawen pipped. 

"Hm?"

"Do you see that?" Trepidation swallowed his voice 

Looking towards the rear of the ship, Fidelity could see a soft purple light shining through the various cracks its rough landing had caused. Along the walkway ringing the lock, she could see other groups take note. Some were curious, others picked up rifles and took a few steps away. 

"Ready yourselves." 

"What?" 

"Ready yourselves!" 

The light continued to grow in intensity and the atmosphere of the fishery grew heavy. Like a metal sheet had tipped onto Fidelity's shoulders. Looking around, she could see her squad and others struggling under the same invisible weight. It was like some great eye had opened above the fishery, and its gaze's intensity carried a physical presence.

Richmond's music stopped for a moment, then picked up again, more frantic this time. Hearing its excited movements caused Fidelity's heart to double-time its already increasing pace, and yet she felt herself stand taller under the phantom weight on her shoulders. Over the sound, she could hear him instructing orderlies and nearby soldiers to move the wounded. 

Men that were outside stormed in, while boots thudded on the wood of the walkway above Fidelity's head. As she swung her musket off her shoulder, she could hear the entirety of 4th company doing similar actions. Sixty some-odd men and women all went through the process of checking their weapons for the second time that night. 

Looking back, she could see Richmond following the last of the wounded out the door, though his song still floated through the air, giving them all strength. Fidelity spared a thought towards the prisoners they had huddling on the floor, considering sending two of her men to escort them out of the way, but the thought died as she looked at the ship again.

The purple light was replaced with a silver-gold one at twice the intensity and a massive section of the ship's rear seemed to warp, like the planks of a house burning, before detonating outwards. 

That silver-gold streaked towards the ceiling, trailing burning planks and instilling a moment of fear for being blinded, before impacting the ceiling and blasting an equally large hole through it. As the smoke cleared, the twin moons Abala and Hjúlla could be seen. Their heterochromatic surfaces looking down at the fishery from high. The moon's glow was like a stage light on the broken form of the ship below, and everyone strained to look into the still smoking breach.

Twice more that silver-gold light flashed from inside, the subsequent blasts obscured by the ship as they impacted the side of the water lock opposite of Fidelity. The men on that side scrambled for cover, and two nearly tumbled over the railing before being grabbed and pulled back. A big crack snaked its way up the wall, chunks of stone shearing away at the impact, widening it.

"Sergeant, look down there!" came a cry, though Fidelity wasn't sure it was even directed at her she looked anyway. With the swirling smoke and raining embers, at first, it wasn't clear what was being pointed out. 

At the bottom of the ship, where its hull disappeared into the mud, cuts were appearing. It was hard for her to make it out from where she was standing, but parallel lines were dancing across the hull. Four of them, dancing in curves and strange half-formed spirals. Two more flashes of Silver-Gold and the cuts stopped. 

No explosions followed, and quiet slammed down on the fishery. Fidelity's squadmates shifted in place as they stared down at the ship, waiting for the next thing to happen. Fidelity could feel the tension rising. Like piano string was being pulled taught in the back of her head.

With a loud crack, the side of the ship was rent open when a figure was pushed through it. Uniformed in charcoal, bearing the wide brim that everyone in the 4th company recognized,  Major General Coffee was locked in a struggle with something inhumanly tall. Like a skeleton of black and purple glass, but warped and wrong. 

The soldiers in the fishery seemed cowed for a moment, seeing their commander with his hands locked together with some otherworldly monster. Trying to force it back or get leverage, and getting nowhere. Fidelity couldn't even move, her arms stuck halfway to shouldering her musket. Then a voice rang out that Fidelity recognized as the captain of 4th company.

"Kill that fucking thing!"

All at once, muskets barked smoke and fire. 

A rain of lead came down on the silt-coated floor of the water-lock, causing plumes of mud to spike up around the feet of the god and thing, but neither seemed to even notice. 

The Major General was tenaciously attempting to dig his heels into the ground and stop his slide backward, but even when the stone floor of the lock peeled up around his boots his speed didn't change. The thing kept pushing, it's long and thin fingers driving towards his face. 

"We've got to do something!" Gawen cried before biting off the top of a cartridge and pouring the powder down the barrel of his gun. 

"I-" Fidelity started, then closed her mouth. Do? What in the stars' name could any of them do against something the Major General couldn't handle? She looked down at her rifle, it's hammer still cocked. The shock of the thing below freezing her trigger, and leaving her shot unfired. 

A second volley thundered from the Laidrian muskets just as the embattled pair disappeared from Fidelity's sight, underneath the wall of the lock. Then she remembered the small little mote of amber light the captain had thrown her when the water god had appeared. 

"If it can kill a god, maybe we've got a chance." She thought before raising her voice to be heard. "I've got something!" 

"What's the plan, sergeant?" Kenelm, the biggest of the squad, asked. Much calmer than everyone around them. 

"I've got a godsbane round!" 

"Where in the four winds did you-" Sputtered Gawen as he turned around. 

"Not now, I've got to go!"

"Go where?!"

"I need an angle on that thing! Jane, with me!" 

The two soldiers had barely made it a few steps away when there was a sound like thunder, and the floor shook hard enough to send them stumbling. Jane caught her foot and pitched to the ground, while Fidelity was forced to take a knee. A crack in the stone of the lock, like the ones she could see on the other side, twisted itself up and over the top of the lock, then between her legs.  It was wide enough to swallow one of her limbs if she wasn't careful.

"Come on!" 

Sprinting past squads of soldiers as they continued to pour shots that weren't doing anything down towards the thing, it didn't take long to round the corner. Looking back, Fidelity could see what had shaken the ground.

The Major General was pinned to the wall where the thing had pushed him into it. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that he was embedded into it, with his torso largely hidden within the cracking stonework. Still, the general was locked together with the thing, unable to break the hold it had on him without being impaled.

It's movements were completely efficient. Not a single one, from the movements of it's arms as it drove it's bladed fingers towards the Major General's eyes, to the intricate shifting that the shards of it's feet did, was wasted. It rebelled against the eyes and the mind was unable or unwilling to register it's change. Even though the thing was clearly moving and the Major General's arms were straining to keep it in check, it almost looked like he was trying to wrestle a statue, any change in posture only becoming apparent as one blinked or looked away and back again.

Fidelity crouched down, using the handrail in front of her as a rest for her musket's barrel, and sighted on the thing. Even from where she crouched, she could see the cracks continue to spider out around the Major General as he was pressed further into the wall. For the second time that night, she walked herself through the words the drill sergeant had pressed into her brain. 

"Breath in. Breath out, slowly. At the end of the breath-" She squeezed the trigger and the musket flashed. Even though she couldn't see the bullet itself, the amber streak of light it left behind, cutting through the air with an amber line that ended with at the black-glass palm of the thing.

It had simply caught the bullet in it's hand, not taking it's gaze off the Major General. A dozen streaks of molten glass randomly crisscrossed the outstretched palm where the bullet had shattered, glowing with a purple light.

While seemingly ineffective, it was enough to give the Major General an opening. The skeletal hand had released his to block the godsbane bullet. He cocked a fist back and let it fly at the hand still locked with his. When his knuckles impacted, silver-gold energy flared to life. The force of the blow cracked the wall next to them and blew the things hand into shards that looked wickedly sharp even from where Fidelity was standing, leaving a jagged stump halfway up it's misshapen arm. 

A cheer went up from the surrounding soldiers. Jane grabbed Fidelity's shoulders and gave a reassuring shake. 

"Great shot Fideli-, I mean Sergeant. Sorry." Jane's smile took a sheepish turn.

"Don't worry about it, I'm just glad we could-" The end of her sentence died in her throat as the thing drove it's remaining hand into the Major General's torso, just under the ribs. Hoisting him up above it's head, the thing turned and threw the Major General. Straight towards Fidelity and Jane. 

He slammed into the very top of the wall of the water-lock, torso above, legs below. Fidelity heard both stone and bone crack but he grabbed the railing before he fell back in and hoisted himself up and over with one arm. He looked down into the lock with his back to the soldiers behind him, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Godsblood dripped to the ground between his boots in rivulets of liquid gold and silver that hissed and spit as they cooled. Fidelity didn't think he looked perturbed about the wound at all.

"Men, you might want to stand back for this one."

"But sir, you're hurt!" Fidelity shouted, her hand still on Jane's shoulder,  and a few soldiers stepped towards him. He warded them off with a wave of a hand. 

"It didn't hit anything vital." He held a hand to his face and coughed, then flicked away a few silver-gold specks. "I'll be fine as long as we take care of this quickly. Look away, gentlemen."

The Major General held a hand in front of him, palm up, and a star the size of an apple burst to life. Even from a distance, Fidelity could see it's roiling surface, silver-gold swirling and churning angrily. As she watched, it started to spin, it's rate increasing rapidly.

Below, the thing was slowly walking towards Clay unhurriedly. It's hand remained glowing where Fidelities godsbane had stuck it, but it showed few other signs of damage. Bullets still slammed into it, sparking and shattering off it's crystalline surface. 

"We may want to stand back a bit farther." A voice said beside Fidelity, causing her to jump slightly.

"Colonel Ghest? When did you-?" 

The star shot out of the major general's hand, flying like an arrow straight towards the thing's chest, and several of the men followed it to the railing with grins on their faces, anticipating the chance to see their commander cutting loose.

The star was moving faster than the thing should have been able to defend against, but it's armed whipped out anyways. Just as fast as the star, the thing reached out and simply grabbed it out of the air. 

The grins of the soldiers faded. 

Clay tensed with his hand out stretched, and the star struggled in the things grip like a firefly in a lantern. Then it detonated. The blast rocked the ground, and threw a handful of soldiers from their feet. The wreck of the Red Hawk rolled farther onto it's side, catching its mainmast on the sidewall and snapping it off. 

Dust obscured the thing below, filling the water-lock. A few cheers went up, but the Major General peered into the dust intently. His demeanor bled to the men, and they went back to gripping their rifles. 

As it settled, the skeletal figure could be seen standing tall.

 

 

 

It stood stock still, it's one arm outstretched but cut just above the elbow. The glass stump glowed from the damage, the same way as its other wounds shone with purple light, but the rest of it's misshapen bones glowed like the product of a glassblowers kiln. A deep, angry, orange. 

Slowly, the thing cooled. The heat-glow faded, but the purple shone just as brightly as when the wounds were inflicted. Still, it stood like a statue. No flickering movement.

A soldier at Fidelity's side shifted uncomfortably.

Jane stepped past her and leaned over the railing, peering as hard as she could towards it. 

"What do you see?"

"I'm not sure what I'm looking at but... do you see those little lights around its head?"

Almost imperceptibly, it started to...come apart. Like a dried-out sandcastle caught in a gust of wind, little pieces of it started to flow away from the body. Slowly at first, the pate of the twisted skull was first. Then two spots on the upper arms. The 'spine' next, followed by one of it's knees starting to trail dust. 

Each little grain seemed to glow as it caught the moonlight, creating an unappreciated light show for the exhausted soldiers of the 4th company. The tension in the room persisted, each soldier waiting for the thing to move again and resume it's attack. 

The Major General looked more intently than all, joined by Colonel Ghest. 

"Why the rush to reload?" Jane asked, glancing back.

"I-" Fidelity started, but she didn't know how to respond. She hadn't even realized that she had started going through the motions of reloading. "I don't know... guess I'm just worried something's going to set it off." 

"Set it off? I'm sure you're more than fine. Look at it!" Jane gestured towards the thing. "It's breaking apart into a thousand pieces."

Most of it's head was gone, leaving the lower jaw that looked like pulled taffy.

The commanding officer of company Four, Captain Baird, tromped past Fidelity and Jane, saying nothing but giving them both a confident nod as he moved towards the Major General. Jane kept watching the thing come apart, but Fidelity watched the captain. Once he was at the Major General's side, he saluted and spoke, though jane could only hear that he was speaking, not what was being said. 

"What about the captain holds your attention, Fidelity, when there is something like that in front of you?" Jane said, gesturing towards the growing cloud of purple lights swirling down below. 

"I'm just curious about what the officers would have to say about our battles, especially when faced with, well, that." Fidelity gestured to it in turn. Jane gave a small smile and nod, her eyes reflecting the little purple points. Fidelity thought the color would look nice on her, though she'd only ever seen her in Laidrian charcoal. 

Fidelity saw the Major General quirk an eyebrow and contemplate for a moment before giving the captain a nod. The captain pulled his revolver and sighted on the thing, now with both arms and upper torso fully dissolved. When his pistol barked the bullet smashed into one of the remaining ribs and passed right through, instead of smashing and deflecting. 

Where it hit, the disintegration sped up. Spiraling out from the point of impact at a faster rate. 

In only a moment the rest of the thing had come apart. Each little grain joining the dancing and swirling others. 

"Well, glad that's over," Jane said. "It's a shame that we won't get to see more of the light show though." She started to turn away, but Fidelity put out a hand. 

"No, something isn't right..."

"What makes you say that?"

"It isn't very drafty in here, so why haven't any of those grains settled to the ground?"

As if answering Fidelity's question, the purple points of light ceased their movement all at once, taking on that same stuttering movement the thing had when whole. 

Some of the men noticed and scrambled for their weapons again. The Major General had a look on his face that was twisted in frustration. Fidelity could see him say some final thing to Colonel Ghest and the captain, and they both ran in opposite directions. 

When he turned back to the lock, the lights sped up, making a roiling, knotted, cloud at the bottom of the lock. 

A few men started shooting again, but their shots seemed to only serve to kick the hornets' nest. The moment the first few shots entered the cloud the lights billowed out in all directions.

Now they were among the men, flitting around so fast no one could keep up. Around Fidelity, she could see the wounds these little shards of otherworldly glass inflicted as they passed by, and through the men. Fidelity grabbed Jane by the shoulders and dove to the ground, just barely skirting under a swarm of lights as they cut the air where they had been.

A heavy weight thudded to the wooden planks behind Fidelity. Rolling over, she saw the face of a soldier she thought she recognized from around camp, with a vague memory of talking about horse races in the capital. A cheek spackled with blood highlighted his remaining eye staring into nothing. 

Jane was fumbling in her kit for her bayonet but it's sheath was pinned under her torso. Fidelity held onto her, keeping her from getting up into the storm of purple lights when the chaos seemed to die down. She sat up slightly, but kept a firm-yet-shaking arm on Jane, who didn't seem eager to stick her head up anyways, 

The men around her had been shredded, only half their original number still standing. A few moaned in pain, but most sat completely still. Even on other sides of the water-lock, they were equally as maimed.

"Are the others okay?" Jane asked, voice muffled by the floor. "Gawen and Kenelm? What about Emory?" 

"I saw the nurses take Emory out with the other wounded, but I can't see the others." Fidelity responded, craning her head around to try and see. "We'll just have to hope they're alright."

Before the rest of her squad, Prenderghast's eyes crossed the Major General, who glowed like the night sky brought down to the Everblessed Globe. 

Stars. Far more than Fidelity had seen him summon up all night floated in a field around him, as his star-spackled eyes burned with an intensity she'd never seen. 

Many of the purple lights were unable to change their course in time and sailed straight into a star. Others had a star slide in front, or chase them down and envelope them in their star-shine. The purple mixed with silver and gold for a moment, before burning away. 

No matter how quickly or erratically the purple lights flew, the stars were always interdicting, gracefully dodging around the Laidrian soldiers staring up and flinching away. 

"Fidelity, look out!" Jane cried as she sat straight up and tackled her sergeant, inverting their positions. A dozen of the purple lights passed through the space Fidelity had been a moment before, chased by a star. 

"Keep your heads down!" A nearby soldier shouted, though Fidelity didn't know if it was at the two of them. Not that it mattered there and then. Jane kept herself pressed down on Fidelity, staying below the myriad of maiming lights flying overhead. 

Suddenly, the purple lights shuddered and twitched, all those still in the air flying in two different directions. One section of the swarm darted towards the Major General, coming at him from all angles, his stars streaking through the dark to intercept them. 

The other section flew above the pair laying prone on the ground, to the walkway on the other side of the Major General, who was too occupied with the splinter swarm to stop them. She felt a muscle in her neck twang as she tried to rapidly track them across the ceiling.

On the side of the soldiers opposite the Major General, the swarm gathered into a swirling whirlwind of circling lights. At its center, an unfortunately familiar form started to take shape again. 

Fidelity and Jane both scrambled back to their feet. 

The last of the swarm found its place in the reborn form of the maligned skeleton just as the Major General burned away the last of the purple lights harassing him. It's bones were whole again but cracked and pockmarked in places, like an ancient statue that's gone uncared and unattended for centuries. Fidelity thought it looked fragile, like the generations-old terracotta pots her mother had maintained since her grandmother passed away.

That horrid sound of nails on glass cut Fidelity out of her memory, loud enough to bring the soldiers closest to it to their knees. Even farther away, Fidelity was glad she had dropped her rifle so she could clamp her hands over her ears.

She wasn't glad when the thing resumed it's march towards the Major General. 

Both of it's arms remained severed, but no one could stop it's advance. Squads of still standing soldiers came together and applied bayonets, but most just slid off like the rain of bullets had before, the thing continuing, uncaring. A few found chinks in it's bones and caused them to crack further or sections and larger chips to sheer off entirely. That got it's attention. 

It's scream redoubled, and the thing laid about with the broken stubs of it's arms. It's left, melted smooth, clubbed a man in the side of the head, and sent him flying and the better part of his brains scattering. The right, shattered and jagged, cut and skewered three soldiers who got too close. 

"Fidelity, your rifle!" Jane shouted over the horrid scream and tossed it to her, she nearly fumbling it as she didn't want to remove her hands from her ears. Shots rang out all around, almost lost in the earsplitting sound the thing was making, and more soldiers closed in on the thing despite the danger. It continued to strike at them, and they quickly learned to keep their distance, jumping in to try and strike at a weak point. 

The thing seemed to grow tired of the game it was playing with the soldiers around it, suddenly breaking into a run. Still in that unsettling shutter-step movement, and towards the Major General.

Meaning Fidelity and Jane were right in it's path. It's speed didn't match it's size, and at what must have been it's sprint it crossed the distance in a blink of an eye.

Fidelity shouldered her weapon despite knowing it would do less than nothing and fired. The shot plinking off of it's brow, eliciting the reaction a stone wall gives to the water running down it. Or lack of one. She scrambled to affix her bayonets, her hand grabbing at the leather sheath on her side but finding nothing. She looked down and saw the sheath was empty.

"It must have been knocked loose-" She thought, searching the floor around her. Looking behind her, and numbed to the things scream as she was quickly growing, she almost didn't notice the sibilant noises getting closer. She whirled back towards the thing and found it looming immediately over her. It's bones, thin as they were, blocked the night sky peeking through the holes blasted in the ceiling. 

"Watch out!" Came a cry as Jane barreled into Fidelity, pushing her back. The things club arm came down. Fidelity was sure that Jane's skull was going to be cracked open if she didn't act fast enough, but her legs and arms refused to work. 

The broad-shouldered form of the Major General stepped in, a fist lashing out into the things chin. It's head snapped back so fast and far it looked like it's spine below the head had folded over itself.

Despite this, the thing rocked it's body forward, swinging it's loose hanging head back into place with a crunch, and jabbed it's jagged arm towards him in a flurry incisive attacks. Keeping his hands up, like a pugilist in an alley, he bobbed below each one.

"Fall back." He said, his voice stern but without anger despite the menace Fidelity could feel radiating off of him. It had a visceral impact on her and every soldier still standing, and she instinctually began to carry out the order before reigning herself back in. The Major General had never given her such a direct command before, but she'd remember the force the orders of a war god carried until the day she died.

Nearly tripping on her boots, Fidelity grabbed Jane, who was trying to follow the divine order but  set to stumbling by the danger directly in front of her face, and pulled her along with the rest of the soldiers of company four that were streaming past the Major General and the thing. 

"That was close, wasn't it? Right, Fidelity- I mean sergeant?" She corrected herself with a shake of her head. "I guess it was my turn, for this..." Jane said, looking back towards the fight. Her breathing was heavy, and her eyes unfocused. Fidelity tried to pull her along whenever she started to slow and support her when she tripped over her own feet. "I guess that means it's your turn next, right? Unless I'm forgetting someone, you're the last one in the squad that hasn't had a near-death-"

Suddenly, she grabbed Fidelity on the shoulder with a panicked grip, her uniform the only thing keeping Jane's nails from drawing blood. 

"Look, Fidelity! Look at the Major General!"

"Jane, please, we need to get out of his way!" 

Despite the plea she herself made, Fidelity looked back, slowing their retreat but not letting them stop completely. 

He continued to weave between the things wild strikes, almost perfectly. When he did catch the jagged arm's razor point across the cheek, he ducked in and slammed a fist into the lower side of it's rib cage with such force that she felt wind on her face.

The moment before impact, his starlight burst to life. When he pulled back, Fidelity could see what she could only describe as a spear of light piercing clear through and out the other side.

She couldn't help but stumble to a stop and give the fight her full attention.

"Come on, sir!" She yelled, surprising herself.

"Yeah, come on sir, lick 'im!" Jane echoed with far more enthusiasm, followed by many of the soldiers around the pair joining in. Other's turning back, but not wanting to get closer. 

Two more jabs left another pair of luminescent spears in the thing's chest, sticking out like arrows. He ducked under a wide swipe from the cutting arm and sank to one leg, striking the thing's knee. It cracked, but did not break, but left another spear of light behind.

The collection of spears kept growing, with every one causing the same orange heat glow from before to slowly spread across it's bones. The longer the fight went on, the more it spread, and with each spear, it spread faster.

"Why won't it go down?" Jane asked to no one in particular, her wits coming back to her. "Not even a god could take this much...."

She was right, Fidelity knew. The skeleton didn't seem to be slowing down at all. Even as the Major General struck where it's arm met it's shoulder, leaving, a spear in the joint, it's arcing swings didn't slow. It was almost completely covered in heat glow as well now, making each blow Coffee took, even glancing as most of them were, more damaging. His clothes were accruing knicks and cuts that had embers hugging their edges, and each time his flesh was touched, it sounded like a griddle even from where Fidelity was standing, yet he did not stop applying his starlight pins to his new pincushion. 

On the wooden floor, smoke and steam curled up around the things footfalls, and the heat-glow was only getting brighter. Fidelity even thought she saw droplets trailing as it lifted it's feet to continue it's shutter-step footwork. 

"Droplets?"

"Did you say something, sergeant?" Questioned Jane over the sound of the things horrid screaming, not fully looking away from it and Major General Coffee.

"Droplets are coming off the things feet, but where from?"

Jane looked hard at the floor beneath the thing. 

"I'm not sure what you're talking about...." She took a tentative few steps forward and looked harder. Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh! I see! It's like the pearls of glass that hit the floor in my father's shop!"

Even as Jane acknowledged it, more seemed to roll off of it's warped figure and splashed to the ground with little puffs of smoke, their rate growing with each spear the Major General punched in. 

As they were watching he ducked backward, giving a moment's distance before throwing a fist forward that had no hope of connecting. When his fist was fully extended, a lance of starlight shot forward and impaled the thing's overstretched sternum, and sent it stumbling back.

It's scream cut off for one merciful second as it fell forward onto stubs and knees. The sudden impact triggering more beads of liquid glass to fall from the thing. Even more than before as whole sections of bone sloughed to the floor like hot wax. 

It tried to scream again, but it was watery and muted, it's skull becoming more warped and falling in on itself. The jaw slowly became lopsided then dribbled to the floor.

As Coffee raised his fist again, the thing launched the last of itself towards him. 

From where Jane and her were standing, Fidelity had the perfect view of the thing making it's lunge. More a mass of molten material than the skeletal figure it had been moments before. It's legs weren't even distinguishable, looking like a single pile pushing the rest of itself forward. 

The Major General simply set his feet and readied a fist low down towards his waist, and Fidelity worried her commanding officer was just going to be covered in molten glass. 

At the same moment Coffee's fist jacked upwards like a coal-elevator with no breaks, Fidelity saw Colonel Ghest appear through the crowd of soldiers opposite, revolver in hand, and shoot. The bullet struck the side of the thing's head, or what was left of it.

Fidelity pulled Jane around to shield her from a spray of molten glass that never came. The shot simply disappeared into the molten blob, destroying even the vaguest traces that there had been a skull at the top of the melting skeleton. The thing reacted like it had been hit by a cannonball, falling towards it's side. As it fell, the Major General's punch connected with the melty remains of it's collar bone.

The starlight that flashed from the uppercut hurt to see for but a moment, but vanished immediately after. 

When the soldiers of the 4th company looked again the upper half of the torso, right arm included, was gone entirely. As well as a large section of the far wall. 

Finally, the thing finished it's melting process, losing all definition as it congealed together, snapping and popping as it started to cool. 

No one wanted to relax.

The Major General pulled off his hat and wiped at his forehead with the other hand while he examined a few burned through holes. His voice was strong, rich like a churchbells ring, as he raised his voice.

"Excellent work, men!" He placed his hat back on his head. "Gather up the wounded, make sure they're ready to move, and load up the dead so we can go home." 

A soldier approached, handing him some sort of missive that he started to open.

"Oh, and gather up as much of this stuff as you can before it cools, someone will want to see it." 

Fidelity finally let out a breath as he turned away, talking with Colonel Ghest and Captain Baird again. Jane buried her face in Fidelities shoulder in exhaustion.

"We don't have leave any time soon, do we?" She asked. Fidelity sighed and wrapped her arms around Jane. 

"No, we do not." 

 

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