ShadowBound: The Need For Power

The mist pocket appeared exactly as described.

The land dipped between old stones and thick roots, the ground slick with moisture and low fog. Several mineral-veined rocks jutted from the soil, their surfaces catching faint starlight and reflecting it in broken shards. The trapped group of six second-years stood within the hollow, breathing hard, weapons out, spells half-formed, eyes darting in every direction.

One student had blood running down the side of his face from a shallow cut above the brow. Another girl clutched her arm, fingers trembling with Myst fatigue. A boy with flame affinity fired a burst into the mist at something that looked like a lean shape darting left.

The flame struck nothing.

A heartbeat later, something moved right.

One of the Glassmaws flashed into view near a stone, or seemed to. Its body was lean and low, almost feline in outline but longer through the spine, with thin limbs built for sudden angle changes rather than straight-line speed. Reflective hide patches covered parts of its shoulders and flanks, not like scales exactly, but like slick mineral plates grown into skin.

Its jaw was wide and wrong, the lower half protected by translucent plates that caught and bent light, making the head look shifted half a pace from where it truly was. It vanished into mist with a ripple, then reappeared as a distorted shape against another rock.

The trapped students swung toward the false position.

Chris watched for three breaths.

The Glassmaws were not attacking directly because they did not need to. They were making the students spend energy. A flash of reflected hide. A jaw shape in the mist. A scrape from one direction, movement from another. The students turned, cast, and swung at illusions of position rather than bodies. The more light they produced, the more surfaces the creatures had to distort. The more they panicked, the faster they exhausted themselves.

Chris understood enough.

"Reduce light output," he ordered, voice sharp but controlled. "No more wide bursts. You are feeding the mist."

The trapped students looked toward him with relief and confusion.

One of them started to speak, but Chris cut him off.

"Shields angled low. Watch the soil and mist, not the reflected body. They are shifting your eyes. Iven, aim where the mist parts, not where the hide flashes. Logan, Varis, pressure them toward the narrow channel on the west side. Casso, cover the injured. Naren, Pell, keep the right side closed."

The trapped flame user shouted, "There are too many angles!"

"Then stop giving them more," Chris snapped. "Lower your flames."

The boy hesitated, then obeyed.

The mist dimmed.

Immediately, the Glassmaws lost some of their advantage. Without broad light spilling across reflective stones, their false bodies became less convincing. They still moved strangely, still bent perception with the reflective plates along their bodies, but the cleanest distortions required light and panic. Chris stepped down into the mist pocket with his weapon drawn, a narrow blade suited for fast cuts rather than heavy strikes. Lightning Myst flickered faintly beneath his skin, not released yet, only gathered.

He waited for movement in the ground layer.

There.

A line through the mist, not where the glimmer flashed, but where the fog split too low near the roots.

"Iven," he said.

The archer released.

The arrow struck the Glassmaw’s shoulder as it crossed behind a false reflection, and the creature let out a shrill, glassy cry. Its actual body stumbled into view for half a second, translucent jaw plates opening wide enough to reveal a dark wet mouth behind them.

Logan charged on Chris’s signal, not wildly, but with force directed at the space Chris indicated. He drove the creature away from the center while Varis cut off the opposite angle. Casso moved toward the injured students, shield low, forcing them to crouch behind him instead of turning in circles.

A second Glassmaw darted from the right.

Pell nearly struck at its reflection, but Naren caught his sleeve and pulled him back just in time. The real body slid low through the mist, aiming for Casso’s exposed side. Chris moved before it reached him, releasing a tight snap of lightning across the damp air. It crackled through the moisture near the creature’s face and make its jaw plates flare reflexively. Its distorted outline fractured.

"Now," Chris ordered.

Varis cut into its flank.

The Glassmaw twisted away, bleeding dark fluid that reflected starlight in tiny broken pieces. It tried to retreat into a false angle, but Logan slammed the butt of his spear into the ground ahead of it, not hard enough to create useless vibration, just enough to block its path and force it toward the root-lined channel. Chris saw the third creature hesitate at the edge of the mist, assessing whether the prey was still confused.

"They are herding you," Chris told the trapped students. "So herd them back."

The flame user, now calmer, swallowed hard. "How?"

"Small flame. Low. Behind the stones on my mark. Do not aim at the creature. Aim at the path you do not want it to take."

The boy nodded shakily.

Chris counted the movement. The third Glassmaw shifted left, mist parting along its real shoulder while a false glimmer flashed right. He ignored the glimmer. "Mark."

The flame user sent a low sheet of fire behind the left stones, cutting off retreat without exploding into the mist. The Glassmaw recoiled from the heat, and Iven’s second arrow struck near its rear leg. Naren and Pell moved together, closing the right side, while Logan and Varis pressured the wounded first creature toward the same narrow channel. For a moment, all three confirmed Glassmaws were forced into the root-lined gap, their reflective bodies crowding into a space too narrow for clean distortion.

Chris stepped forward.

Lightning flashed, controlled and narrow, striking the wet root just above the lead creature. The current snapped through the moisture and shocked the creatures enough to break their formation. One collapsed twitching, not dead but stunned. Another bolted deeper into the channel with a shriek. The third tried to leap up the side ridge, only for Logan to catch it with a brutal spear thrust through the lower chest.

The trapped students stared as the remaining Glassmaws retreated into the mist beyond the channel, no longer pressing the attack now that the prey had stopped behaving like prey.

"Do not chase," Chris ordered immediately.

Logan, breathing hard and smiling like he wanted to, stopped.

Varis kept his blade ready but held position.

Chris scanned the mist, waited several seconds, then lowered his weapon slightly. "Mela."

She came down at once, moving to the student with blood on his face first, then to the girl clutching her arm. "Sit," she ordered. "Both of you."

The rescued students obeyed quickly. Their fear had changed shape now, shifting from panic to stunned relief. Several looked at Chris with open gratitude, and one of them, the flame user, swallowed hard before speaking.

"Thank you. We kept hitting nothing."

"Yes," Chris said. "You did."

The boy looked embarrassed, but he did not resent it. Not after being saved.

Chris used the moment. "Names and injuries. Quickly. We are not staying in this hollow."

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