Unsleeping Patron - Night of Black Glass Scythes

Silence in the northern ash forest held a heavier, darker weight from the quiet of the Hollow Canopy. There were no purple blooms down here, no soft violet glow to illuminate the roots. The trees grew thick and grey, their bark cracked in vertical fissures that leaked a dark, odorless pitch.Silas rode with his chin tucked against the collar of his canvas tunic. Behind him, fifty miles to the south, the seven golden chrysalises were tucked beneath the roots of the ancient canopy, safe under the watching gaze of the Old Warden. Ahead, there was only the Miasma and the long trail north.The stallion beneath him stumbled, its left foreleg giving out for a fraction of a second before catching itself on a shale ridge. A wet, rattling wheeze came from the beast’s chest, its dark hide lathered in a white, sulfur-smelling foam that dripped from its flanks onto the rocks.Silas reached down, touching the stallion’s damp neck. He could feel the irregular, violent pounding of its heart through the thick hide. The horse was running on borrowed time, pushed three days past its natural limits by the lingering   in its veins.”Easy,” Silas rasped.He reined the beast in near the shelter of three fallen ash trunks. Dusk was setting, the Miasma thickening into a dense, charcoal blanket that cut visibility down to twenty paces. He lifted his right hand, allowing the twin amber arms of Mind-Light to sprout from his wrist. They lifted the Blood-Lantern five meters into the air, unlocking the front cowl. The cold red fire expanded, driving back the grey fog and settling over the improvised camp in a fifty-yard circle of dim crimson light.Silas dismounted, his bare feet sinking into the ash-covered dirt. He untied his supply bundle from the saddle and loop-tied the stallion’s leather lead to a low branch. The horse didn’t attempt to graze. It simply hung its heavy head, its milky eyes staring blankly at the dark soil, its breath coming in ragged, shallow whistles.Silas sat on a fallen log, pulling his scythe-dagger from his belt to check the blade.Then came the clicking.It didn’t come from the ground. It started high up in the dead branches of the ash trees a dry, rhythmic tapping, like dozens of knitting needles snapping together in quick succession.Silas didn’t stand up immediately. He lowered his knife, his eyes shifting upward toward the edge of the Blood-Lantern’s red dome.A shadow dropped from the nearest branch, landing silently in the ash four yards away.It was half a meter long, its body coated in an armor of polished black chitin so reflective it mirrored the cold red glare of the lantern. Its head was small, triangular, fitted with two bulbous, black-faceted eyes that twitched in quick, erratic jerks. Where a normal insect had slender legs, this beast possessed two long, curved scythes lined with jagged, glass-like serrations.An obsidian mantis.Before the first one could raise its forelimbs, three more dropped from the canopy above, landing in a tight semicircle around the stallion.The horse let out a terrified, whistling shriek, rearing back against the leather lead, its hooves churning up clouds of grey dust. One of the mantises darted forward, its black scythe whipping out in a blurred arc aimed at the stallion’s exposed throat.Silas moved.He didn’t draw a knife. He closed his fingers into a tight fist, driving the amber light beneath his skin straight into his knuckles. A beam of condensed, golden Mind-Light erupted from his forearm, solidifying into a six-foot spear of hardened, translucent light.He thrust the spear forward.The golden point struck the diving mantis squarely in the sternum. The obsidian carapace cracked with a loud snap, spilling a thick, yellow-green fluid over the grey dirt. Silas twisted his wrist, expanding the Mind-Light spear outward, blowing a fist-sized hole through the creature’s midsection before the light collapsed back beneath his skin.The remaining three mantises didn’t retreat. Driven by the scent of fresh fluid, they lunged simultaneously. One leaped for Silas’s chest, its scythes whistling through the air, while the other two swarmed the tethered horse.The stallion kicked back wildly with its hind leg, its heavy hoof catching one mantis on the thorax and smashing it against an ash trunk into a heap of shattered black glass.Silas ducked under the second mantis’s swipe. The razor-sharp edge of its scythe caught the sleeve of his tunic, shredding the thick canvas and leaving a shallow red welt across his forearm. Silas didn’t feel the sting. He raised his left hand, summoning a second Mind-Light blade, and drove it upward through the joint where the monster’s head met its shoulders.The mantis twitched violently, its black legs wrapping around his arm before going completely limp.Silas kicked the dead shell off his arm, breathing hard through his nose. His chest throbbed, his golden inner light flickering once from the sudden drain on his spiritual pool.He turned his attention to the last mantis, which was clinging to the stallion’s flank, its mandibles tearing into the horse’s dark hide. Silas didn’t use the spear. He manipulated the Blood-Lantern hovering above, dropping its cold red fire directly onto the mantis’s back. The creature shrieked, a high-pitched sizzle echoing through the trees as its black shell softened and melted into a puddle of foul-smelling grease.Silence returned to the ash forest.Silas stood over the dead insects, his knees trembling slightly as he pulled his Mind-Light back into his veins. The stallion was leaning against the ash tree, its flank torn open in three long, shallow gasps, dark blood trickling down its leg into the dirt.Silas walked over to the first mantis he had killed. Its long, curved scythe-limb remained intact, sharp enough to cut through leather with a light touch.Using his Mind-Light to shape a thin, razor-like edge on his finger, Silas sliced the mantis’s forelimb clean off at the joint. He fetched a foot-long branch of seasoned ash wood from his camp pile, split the top end with his old scythe-dagger, and wedged the obsidian mantis blade deep into the notch. He bound it tightly using strips of leather torn from his spare boot straps.He held the finished weapon up to the lantern light. The black scythe-blade was ten inches long, curved like a harvesting hook, and far sharper than any slate tool Gold had ground back at the settlement.He lowered the weapon and walked to the stallion’s side.He pressed his palm against the horse’s sweat-soaked shoulder. The animal’s breathing was shallow, a wet, bubbling gurgle coming from deep inside its lungs. The   that had sustained its body over hundreds of miles was fading, leaving behind only the exhausted, broken frame of a dying beast.Silas didn’t try to bandage the horse’s flank. He picked up his canvas pack, tied the new mantis-dagger to his belt, and sat down beside the lantern, waiting for the dawn.