The chant complete, she gently lowered her hand and let the pulsing, yellow light drop to the ground. It disappeared beneath the earth with a dim flash, but she could feel the energy move and shift, growing distant as it travelled ahead.
It was neither daemon nor artificial creation, but rather something more mundane changed and altered, tethered to her will and bound with words of power and promise. The creature, if it could be called such, was a mixture of bound energy, a conglomerate of souls and spirits stitched and sewn together until it became a homogenous, warped entity. Useless for most things, the few areas it could function within it excelled like no other. For now, she allowed it to scout ahead and sniff out her target while she focused on more mundane tasks. For example, allowing man and creature to hack at one another elsewhere.
She cocked her head, her porcelain features unmoving, and altered her course. Rather than moving through the melee and the moderate risk therein, she opted for a more direct path. The little fortress loomed up, the wood and earth forming a rather large impediment to scale or carve through, yet she knew she would do neither.
She summoned the black mist once more, the whispers folding over and over as they were spoken. The mist clung to her hand once more, but instead of unleashing the magic, she held it as she walked. What had withered flesh and blackened bone would serve well to allow her entry with relative ease. What was timber but another form of flesh and bone, after all?
