Chapter 80: Statues
As I stumbled back from the cursed statue, something hard connected with my ankle, dropping me to one knee. The kid caught my shoulder, saving me a fall, and I looked down to see what had tripped me. A hammer. And chisel.
"What are these?" I asked, running a finger over the crude tools. Only silence met my question, and I looked up to see tears streaming down his face.
"W-we tried everything," he whispered, voice breaking. I followed his gaze to a nearby statue, one of the cracked ones. As unfamiliar as I was with stonework, the broken arm bore the unmistakable mark of a chisel.
After a moment, realization dawned on me and my throat tightened in horror. I stepped back, turning to hide my lashing tail, and swept my gaze over the entire barn. Surely they couldn’t have...not ALL of the broken ones... For once, I cursed my eyes and their unerring perception.
"Turns out they were turned to stone, through and through."
His cold, empty voice shook me to the core. No one his age should have to experience that sort of thing. No one. After another shudder, I moved forward and knelt beside the statue of the elderly woman once more.
"Stand back," I whispered, my voice barely masking my determination. A storm of stars materialized about me, condensing together in a dizzying display of light. The kid stumbled back amid the flurries, mouth dropping in shock as my staff fell into my waiting grasp.
Channeling mana through the staff, I opened the Eyes of Fate. A swirling tapestry of magic ropes coiled around the statue, binding it with enough magic to power several high-circle spells. Each strand was made of hundreds of elongated runes, a pattern I was intimately familiar with. I touched my chest, absently tracing a scarlet rune.
Even without trying, I knew Dispel Magic would have no effect. Monsters worked entirely differently than mages, and their abilities functioned internally, rather than requiring a magic circle. As such, there was nothing to target or disrupt.