CLANG!!!

Heartwell watched an arrow bounce off the lower part of the creature. He stared at it in disbelief for a few moments. But, once the arrow has settled on the ground, he realized he had to do something.

And fast.

“Who’s the jackass who did it? Who’s disobeying my orders?”

All the archers looked at him, their faces terrified. Nobody dared say anything.

“You’re not to shoot until I give you the order! Or unless it shoots first!”

Bbbrrrrmmm!

Hearing the alien sound, Heartwell got his attention back to the creature, fearing the worst. But, instead of responding with hostility, it started crawling back with impressive speed. It didn’t turn around like everyone would expect an insect to do. It still faced them, its big bug-eyes still stared at them with the same blank expression. But its legs were running in reverse as if those were somehow independent of the rest of its body. It lowered its thin arms, saying nothing as it was fleeing as fast as it could.

“It’s… it’s running away …” Hazelmere said in disbelief.

“I’d also run away if someone tried to kill me after greeting them,” Heartwell grumbled, “but, something’s wrong there.”

“What?”

“The way the arrow bounced.”

“Its carapace must be very strong.”

“No, it’s about the sound … it sounded as if the arrow had struck a metal …”

Remembering something, Heartwell straightened up as he turned away.

“But before that, I have to deal with some insubordination.”

---

After a long while, Heartwell finally entered the command tent, interrupting the archmages and Vukasin in their discussion.

“Considering that the screaming and begging has ended, I take it you have dealt with your problem?” Cybil asked, sounding quite haughty.

“There’s nothing a good lashing can’t fix.”

“Can’t you come up with something more creative?”

“Why change something that works?”

“Anyway,” Hazelmere smacked both hands on the table, but not too hard, just hard enough for them to make the slapping noise, “the way Heartwell is dealing with his soldiers is none of our business. He stays out of our way, and we stay out of his.”

“Huh, now isn’t this strange?” Cybil commented.

“We have far more pressing concerns,” Hazelmere continued, “so, let us focus on the task at hand. We must figure out what that creature was.”

“I can tell you one thing for sure. That wasn’t a creature,” Heartwell said.

The archmages looked at him for a few moments without saying a word. They didn’t have to say anything though, their stares were disapproving enough.

“Well, what was it then?” Cybil finally asked.

“I’m certain it was made out of metal. It was probably some kind of construct.”

Cybil started laughing wholeheartedly at that: “A construct … hahaha … are you serious? I have never heard of any constructs staying functional in the frost. The metal would freeze completely! There is no way a construct could move a single beard in such a cold. Didn’t you have some issues drawing your sword out of its scabbard when the portal was summoned?”

“Yes, I know it’s strange, and you’re right about everything you’ve said. But I’m absolutely certain it was a construct. It looked like an insect, but it didn’t move like one. Yes, it was crawling on the ground, but its movements were too slow.”

“Its speed was impressive when it was running away through,” Mizette pointed out.

“Yes, but everything else about it was slow. Its hands, its head, the eyes, all of it moved too slowly for an insect! And it didn’t have those … thin but long things on its head.”

“Antennae?”

“Yes, that! And, most importantly, the arrow! When the arrow struck, it sounded as if it had hit something made out of metal! “

Cybil shook her head vigorously as her irises went as high as they could: “There are so many reasons for why it can’t be a construct that I don’t have the time to list them all!”

“Like what?”

“Like the core, for example! Constructs need the core to operate, and there is no way you could make a core small enough to fit in that thing! That is why all the constructs are big, clumsy creations. There is no such thing as a small, agile construct!”

“Wait, wait,” Mizette said as she scratched her chin, “it didn’t have the core, but … what if the core is on the other side?”

“How would that make any sense?” Cybil lifted her head high up, in a display of irritation, “do you have any idea how much energy it would take to supply the construct from a distance? Dead metal requires much more energy to animate than anything natural. Those are the basics of magic! Even corpses are easier to animate than metal!”

“We have all agreed that those insects are supplied with the energy thanks to those threads, right? What if the core is on the other side, and the construct was supplied through the thread? Besides, we saw no mages on the other side yet.”

“We didn’t see any cores either! The threads are connected to those small boxy things the demons are holding in their hands. There is no way a core could be that small!”

“And what are those boxy things then?” Mizette raised her voice slightly.

“I have no idea, but those are clearly not the cores!”

“I think there is some merit to this idea …” Natle mused.

“Really?”

“Think about it this way. What is more plausible, that a thread is connected to a construct or that those demons are inserting them into the living creatures’ rear ends? I mean, it looks like those threads can be taken off easily. I doubt anyone, insects included, would appreciate such treatment.”

Cybil closed her eyes tightly, as if she was trying to unsee what Natle had said: “Are you really going to use that as an argument? Those insects could be trained to take it.”

“I’m not an expert when it comes to magic or constructs, but this is where I know you’re wrong,” Heartwell jumped in, “you can’t train an insect. Only animals with sufficient smarts can be trained. That’s why we use horses in battle instead of oxen. Oxen would be much more effective to fight on. Charging enemy lines would be much easier with them, but you can’t train them properly because those are some stupid animals. And insects are even worse.”

“I don’t care how hard it is to train an insect, it is much harder to create such a small construct. Next thing, you’ll tell me those flying bugs are also constructs!”

“They certainly aren’t flying like proper insects …”

“Although,” Mizette interrupted Heartwell, “those flying bugs aren’t connected to the threads. It would be far-fetched to assume they have …”

“What?” Cybil asked, visibly annoyed with Mizette stopping in the middle of the sentence.

Mizette put the finger on her lip while looking down, thinking very hard.

“How do those even fly? Shou … shouldn’t the creatures lacking threads be unable to move?”

“We’ve already talked about it!” Cybil shoved her outstretched hand in front of Mizette’s face, “those big bugs are giving them the …”

As Cybil also stopped in the middle of her sentence, they stared at each other without saying a word for quite some time, each one of them looking more confused than the other.

“So … what you are trying to say …” Cybil restarted the conversation.

“If those big bugs can give energy to the flying ones …”

“No, that’s…”

“That was your explanation!”

“But, there are reasons why all constructs have a core instead of …”

“In this world, yes.”

“What are the two of you talking about?” Hazelmere asked.

Mizette and Cybil turned their heads towards her, slowly.

“If … if my guess is correct …”

“Then what, Cybil?”

“Then, there is so much we know nothing about.”

“You don’t say! A specific example would be appreciated,” Hazelmere crossed her arms impatiently. With a short glance, Hartwell noticed that her flat chest gave her no difficulties in doing so.

“For example … if those big bugs with flat backs can supply the flying ones with the necessary energy from a distance, does that also mean a core could do the same?” Mizette said.

Making Hazelmere frown: “The energy loss would be too great! I agree with Cybil on that one. Animating metal takes way too much energy. There is no point in making something so useless! Not to mention, the core would have to spend too much energy to track the position of the construct.”

“Not really,” Mizette countered, “that is what the threads are for! The threads solve that issue completely by feeding the energy directly into the construct!”

“Then, why are we talking about supplying the energy from a distance?”

“Just because we didn’t see the core on the other side, that doesn’t mean there isn’t one! It would make sense to keep it hidden! Instead of supplying the constructs directly, it would make sense to supply some kind of relay close to it, which would then supply them. That way, you could easily trick the observers into thinking there is no core nearby!”

“But why? They used those threads on the first bug they have sent through. Even before they could see our camp.”

“Because, the bugs can’t move without the thread!”

“I know Cybil, but if what you are saying is true, the first bug they would send wouldn’t have the thread.”

“I disagree!” Cybil shook her finger rally fast as if that would help her win the argument somehow, “you would be right in every other case, but I am certain you are wrong in this one.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“These demons are the most careful creatures we have ever seen. Each and every time they did something, they were always on the safe side. The first thing any other race would do is send a single, brave soldier through the portal and wait to see if he will return. However, not a single one of these frost demons has dared to cross the portal yet. They just sit there and let their bugs do everything dangerous for them.”

“Maybe, they are just cowards.”

“Huh! As much as I find the idea of some cowardly demons amusing, I find it hard to believe. No, these demons are insanely studious. First, they do the safest thing. And then, if it works, they start increasing the level of risk. They did send the bug without a thread eventually, right? But they only did it to see what happens, to see if the limits they thought were in place truly exist. And it turned out they were right!”

“You are assuming way too much,” Hazelmere slowly shook her head in dismissal.

“We were assuming ever since the portal was summoned, that is all we do here! Name one piece of solid evidence we have gathered!”

“Oh, come on!”

“Listen, listen,” Mizette jumped in, “we have no way of knowing who is right, so it wouldn’t hurt to consider all the possibilities. Maybe those bugs aren’t constructs, but wouldn’t it be wise to play safe and be ready just in case?”

“What is your point?”

“Do we have any way of fighting constructs? What if an army of constructs attacks us, how will we defend from it?”

“That’s a good point,” Heartwell agreed wholeheartedly.

“The best we have are spells,” Mizette continued, “and here, we have only a handful of mages whose spells can be useful against constructs. We are completely unprepared for such a scenario! So, even if Cybil isn’t right, wouldn’t it make sense to get prepared for it, just in case?”

Hazelmere started scratching the back of her head: “It is hard to argue against that argument. But what is your idea? How can we prepare ourselves?”

Mizette shrugged: “I have no idea, but something has to be done.”

“Why not ask the dwarves for help?” Heartwell proposed.

“The Dwarves?”

“You could send a letter to his Majesty, ask him to enlist some dwarves to help us. If he tells them some exotic constructs are crawling around, I doubt they’ll be able to resist. They probably won’t even ask for payment.”

“And what would you know about dwarves?” Cybil asked in a haughty voice.

“Clearly, much more than you! The dwarves are famous for their smithing skills, and a lot of them leave the mountains to hone their craft. So, as a military commander, I’ve dealt with dwarven smiths plenty of times.”

“Hmm …” Hazelmere mused, “that wouldn’t hurt. And, from what I have heard about them, they are also capable and proud warriors. If anyone would know how to dismantle constructs, it is them. But, what happens if they come here and it turns out those bugs aren’t constructs?”

“We’ll just explain why we thought they were,” Heartwell continued, “the dwarves are extremely hot-headed but, when calm, they’re surprisingly reasonable. After all, they do spend centuries studying all kinds of crafts. You can’t learn those if you’re not patient and smart. Just … don’t annoy them when they arrive. When annoyed, they don’t think about the consequences.”

“Don’t you think realizing those bugs aren’t constructs will annoy them?”

“It will do much more than that,” Cybil commented.

“As long as we’re apologetic and reasonable, they won’t mind. There are a lot of things wrong with the dwarves, but I’m yet to see one of them turn down an honest apology.”

Hazelmere turned to face the seven other archmages, most of which were completely quiet all this time.

“What do the rest of you think?”

They shrugged, nodded their heads, made all kinds of grimaces.

“Do you have any complaints?”

The archmages continued doing what they did, their behavior not affected by Hazelmere’s words.

“All, right, I will go and seek an audience with the Emperor. I will see if I can ask him personally.”

“You were already denied twice,” Mizette pointed out.

“Yes, by his advisor. And now she has fallen from grace, meaning there will be nobody to stop me from seeing him.”

Mizette nodded: “That makes sense. And don’t forget to ask about the adventuring party that is supposed to clear the dungeon below us. We still haven’t received the Emperor’s response.”

“I will. So, I guess the matter is settled. Whether those bugs are constructs or not, it doesn’t matter. Maybe the dwarves can offer some insight we lack. Maybe their knack for smithing and mechanics will be useful. You are all dismissed. Except you, Heartwell. I need you to stay here for a few moments. To arrange a few things.”

Mizette gave Hazelmere an uncertain stare before she left the tent with the rest of the archmages. Vukasin was the last one to go, leaving only after he had confirmed everyone else was gone.

As soon as they were alone in the tent, Heartwell decided to start the conversation.

“Ok, how can I help?”

Hazelmere straightened her posture: “First of all, I want to praise you for your insight.”

 Hearing that made both of his brows raise up: “You’re welcome.”

“Also, I want you to escort me to the palace.”

“Is Vukasin not satisfactory?”

“He is, but you are the first one who came up with the idea that those insects may be constructs. I want you to tell his Majesty exactly what you have told us. Besides, if I remember correctly, his Majesty appears to have some fondness for you.”

“Where did you get that idea?”

“I remember him being rather unofficial with you when we were summoning the portal. I think having you nearby will make it easier for his Majesty to agree.”

Heartwell shook his head: “No, you got it wrong. Having me in the palace won’t help one bit. Besides, my duty is here, I can’t move from this place. Politicking is your job.”

“But, you will present your idea much better than I can! Our case will be much stronger if we present it from both the magical and military perspective!”

“Vukasin will do it as good as I can. He was here, he knows what we were talking about. He’s a smart guy, I’m sure he’ll remember everything.”

A deep frown set on Hazelmere’s face: “And I guess ordering you to come with me won’t help.”

“Yeap, that’s right. My duty takes precedence over your whims. Besides, I’m not interested in politics in the slightest. The further away from them I am, the better.”

“Fine! You’re dismissed then!”