The search went on till midnight. Owen was by himself in the dark house, darkness creeping up the walls like moans of forgotten voices. He gazed at the flickering candle, its white flame curling and quivering with every creak of the groaning wooden floorboards. The air was heavy, like a mouthful of breathed air, and he shivered as a gust of cold crept under the door.
And then there was a crack out of the woods, sharp and snapping and bone-like as it cut through the silence. Owen's heart skipped a beat. He stood by the window, his own breath fogging the glass as he stared out into the dark. At the very fringe of the trees, a stooping figure lurched—a twisted, stooping figure with a wracked staff shrouded in black, crawling cloth. The goblin returned.
Carl fell back, going down as the beast launched itself at him, the staff snapping through the air in a whining hiss. Carl clenched his teeth, protecting the wound in his side and wildly sweeping his sword in a wide curve. The knights approached the clearing, armor ringing like chains as they advanced towards the beast. But the goblin was strong, its twisted shape seemingly swift as it twirled the staff, sending forth a whirl of wretched green light that tore through the air.
The knights were blinded by the light. They hung there, suspended in mid-charge, swords half-sworded, rolling their eyes back as their bodies locked, their muscles twitching like wires. Carl let out a battle cry, sword raised to chop at the creature, but again the staff creaked and his arms locked, his breath caught in his throat. He stumbled, his boots sinking into the mud as his sword clanged at his feet.
The goblin moved on to the village, its staff laying down sparks that fizzed upon wet leaves. Owen's eyes bulged as he saw the sinister form stagger past his window. Without hesitation, he leaped from the house, his naked feet pounding on cold, damp grass as he screamed to the villagers.
"It's coming! Run! The goblin's coming!"
Panic ensued. Doors slammed, screams shrieked, and the otherwise calm night descended into hysterics. Anna, her face as white as stone, grabbed her bow and rushed to Zoe's side. She gripped Zoe's shoulder, gasping, eyes wide open.
"It's here. The goblin. It's burning the village."
Zoe's teeth clenched. She pulled the iron cannon off her hip, protesting muscles grating as she heaved it onto the earth road. She brought the cannon to bear on the monster, her eyes closing in a silent wish, her finger poised above the trigger.
Boom.
The cannon boomed, the earth near it cracking under the pressure. The bullet screamed through the acrid-smelling air, the iron sphere arcing towards the goblin's crooked, grinning face. But the staff unexpectedly doubled, a column of dark light uncoiling to push the shot away. The cannonball buckled, twisted, then exploded apart in mid-air. Zoe's eyes went wide as the ricochet slammed her, hurtling her through the air. She hit the side of an adjacent cart, wood groaning beneath her weight as she collapsed to the floor.
Rio, his hands stained with blood already loose, returned to the fleeing villagers. He took the children's hands, shooing them toward the castle gates as the earth trembled beneath their steps. Gabriel, his teeth clamped together tightly and eyes burning with rage, rushed toward the goblin, his sword shining like a silver sword in the moonlight.
"This world is not yours," he snarled, the words torn from his throat as he plunged his sword into the creature's head.
The goblin snarled, its staff spitting. The sword bit into the staff, and a burst of dark energy surged up Gabriel's arm, wrapping around his muscles, stiffening his joints. He staggered, gasping, his sword clanking on the floor beside him.
Anna, her breath ragged, nocked an arrow. She released it, the fletching whispering through the air as it streaked toward the goblin's exposed back. But the staff twisted in the creature's gnarled hands, and the arrow twisted mid-flight, snapping back toward her like a coiled serpent. She tried to duck, but it was too late. The shaft buried itself in her shoulder, and she crumpled to the ground, blood soaking her tunic.
Rio, wild-eyed, leaped from the rooftop of a crumbling house, his sword raised above his head. He screamed, his body a dark blur against the moonlit sky as he descended. But the goblin's staff crackled once more, and his body shattered mid-air, pieces of flesh and bone raining down around the creature.
Gabriel forced his limbs to move, each step a battle against the dark force seeping through his veins. He swung again, his blade slicing through the air, but the goblin twisted, its staff humming as it deflected each blow. Then, with a guttural roar, the goblin drove the staff into his chest, the force flinging Gabriel backward, his body skidding across the blood-soaked ground.
Anna, her own breath torn, nocked an arrow. She released it, the fletching whispering in the air as it flew toward the goblin's naked back. But the staff shook in the creature's deformed hand, and the arrow shook in its flight, spinning back toward her like a hurled rope. She attempted to sidestep, but she was too slow. The shaft plunged into her shoulder, and she fell to the earth, blood flowing into her tunic.
Rio, eyes blazing, sprang off the roof of a ruined house, sword held aloft. He screamed, body a dark smear against the moonlit sky as he plunged downwards. But the goblin's staff burst once again, and his body burst apart in mid-air, pieces of flesh and bone tearing down everywhere on the monster.
Gabriel pressed his body to move forward, every step a struggle against the evil force invading his arms. He swung once more, sword flashing in sunlight, but the goblin danced, staff shaking as it countered every strike. Then, in a strangled bellow, the goblin thrust the staff into his chest, the force knocking Gabriel stumbling backward, body gliding along gore-slicked ground.
Anna, her eyes flashing with resistance but her complexion gray, fought to rise. She stumbled towards the goblin, her knife clutched in clenched fists. A scream tore from her lips as she plunged the blade into the creature's back. It twisted, its spine curving as a noxious black cloud issued from the gash. The goblin spun around and hurled her across the room like a rag doll. She struck a tree, splintering the bark behind her as she fell, struggling, blood trickling from her lips.
The goblin, its deformed form radiating bad will, approached the castle, its staff laden with energy. The last of the knights, shaking but steadfast, rode forward before the gates of the castle and the hysterical villagers in the great hall, their maledictions joined with the flurry of torchlight.
Up in the balcony, Princess Neah cried out, her voice a fierce song that cut through the din, a last, defiant note against the darkness.
Ava, a knight from the far kingdom of Simbaku, came upon the frozen, shaking bodies of the knights along the entire path. She knelt down, touching her fingers to their necks, sensing the weak, fluttering pulse hidden beneath their frozen flesh. They were alive, suspended in some ghastly limbo of flesh and terror.
She charged, her armor ringing as she ran up the castle stairs, over the bodies on the ground and the broken stone. She burst into the throne room, her sword glinting as she leaped at the goblin, its deformed head recoiling in shock.
With a feral scream, Ava plunged her dagger into the beast's chest. The goblin's black eyes went wide, its hold on the staff loosening as it stumbled back. King Marcus fell with it, his huge sword crashing to the ground.
The hall was silent, the battle cries muffled to the wet, cold stone. Ava gasped for air, her sword smeared with the monster's black, hot blood, her gaze fixed on the broken fragments of the goblin as it crumbled into dust on the stone at her feet.