The evening had arrived properly now, the sky above the plain carrying the specific colors of a clear evening without canopy cover, the red and deep blue of it crossing toward each other at the horizon's edge.
The three-golem form was coming.
He could feel it through the ground, the weight of it communicating itself through the soil the way the individual golems' weight had communicated from the beginning, the specific vibration of something very heavy covering ground at a committed pace.
He had two options.
He was aware of both. The first was to face it all by himself. The second was to leave it all to his summons after summoning them.
He already knew his answer so he chose the one that did not involve his summons.
He got up.
The process of getting up with broken ribs was something he completed rather than something he described, because the description of it would have required more consideration than the doing of it deserved.
