The screaming was a special kind of screaming. It wasn't the "I stubbed my toe on the coffee table" kind, or even the "There's a spider in my bathtub" kind.
It was the high-pitched, panicked, "There is a seven-foot-tall construct of magical stone trying to turn me into a fine paste" kind of screaming. Leo knew it well; he had written it himself, complete with detailed descriptions of the various octaves of terror that the human voice could achieve when faced with imminent death by magical construct.
He and Sir Reginald reached the edge of the courtyard just in time to witness the exact moment when Professor Aldric's carefully planned demonstration went spectacularly wrong. The scene unfolded with the terrible inevitability of a train wreck filmed in slow motion, each second stretching into an eternity of mounting horror.
The middle training golem, a hulking brute of granite and glowing runes that stood nearly eight feet tall, suddenly jerked to life with movements that were decidedly not part of the demonstration.
Its head, a block of uncarved stone with two glowing blue eyes, swiveled wildly as if searching for targets. The control rune on its back: the one Leo had specifically designed as a weakness for the heroes to exploit, flickered erratically, sparking with unstable magical energy.
"A magnificent beast!" Sir Reginald declared from his perch on Leo's shoulder, his tiny voice filled with what could only be described as professional admiration. "A worthy challenge for a knight of my stature! Observe, giant, as I demonstrate the proper techniques for "
"Stay here," Leo hissed, grabbing the tiny knight and stuffing him into his breast pocket before Sir Reginald could do something heroically stupid. "And be quiet."
"Unhand me, you oaf!" came the muffled squeak from his pocket. "This is an affront to my honor! I am a decorated warrior, not a pocket accessory!"
Leo ignored the indignant protests emanating from his chest and focused on the chaos unfolding before him.
Students scattered in all directions like startled birds, their morning robes flapping behind them as they fled. Professor Aldric stood frozen in shock, his staff raised uselessly as he watched his carefully controlled demonstration transform into a disaster that would probably end his career and possibly his life.
And there, exactly where Leo had written him to be, stood the unnamed student.
The original version of himself, or whatever temporal paradox he had become. The young man was frozen in place, staring with rapt fascination at the intricate carvings on the fountain, completely oblivious to the seven feet of homicidal granite bearing down on him.
Leo's authorial brain kicked into overdrive, analyzing the situation with the cold precision of someone who had spent years crafting dramatic scenes.
He knew exactly how this was supposed to play out. In approximately fifteen seconds, Kaelen would arrive. The protagonist would assess the situation with heroic determination, draw his sword with a flourish that would catch the morning light just so, and charge the golem while delivering a stirring speech about courage and protecting the innocent.
Kaelen would dodge the golem's first swing with athletic grace, roll between its legs, and strike at the control rune with surgical precision. The golem would collapse, the day would be saved, and Kaelen would be hailed as a hero, while the unnamed student's death served as motivation for the protagonist's character development.
It was a perfectly crafted scene of heroic triumph emerging from tragic loss.
Except that when Kaelen arrived, right on schedule, everything went wrong.
"Stand back, you foul beast!" Kaelen shouted, his voice carrying across the courtyard with the kind of heroic resonance that Leo had spent paragraphs describing. "Your reign of terror ends now!"
He stood there in the morning sunlight, his silver hair flowing dramatically in a breeze that seemed to exist solely for the purpose of making him look more heroic. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword with practiced ease, and his blue eyes blazed with the kind of righteous determination that belonged on the cover of a romance novel.
He was everything Leo had written him to be: brave, noble, and ridiculously photogenic.
He was also, apparently, not very good at fighting golems.
Kaelen drew his sword and charged with all the heroic fervor that Leo had scripted for him. The blade caught the morning light exactly as described, creating a brilliant flash that should have been the prelude to a spectacular victory.
Instead, the golem, whose programming clearly did not include a "recognize the protagonist and fight dramatically" protocol, swatted Kaelen aside like an annoying fly.
The hero of Leo's novel went sailing through the air in a graceful arc that would have been impressive if it had been intentional.
He landed in the fountain with a splash that sent water cascading over the intricate carvings that the unnamed student had been admiring, followed by a very unheroic yelp of surprise and what sounded suspiciously like cursing.
Leo stared, dumbfounded. That wasn't supposed to happen. Kaelen was supposed to dodge, weave, and deliver witty one-liners. He wasn't supposed to be defeated in three seconds by a construct with all the tactical sophistication of a particularly aggressive boulder.
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[Plot Deviation Detected!]
• Warning: The protagonist is currently experiencing technical difficulties. Please stand by while we attempt to restore normal narrative function.
• Suggestion: Try not to get stepped on while the story figures itself out.
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The golem, having dispensed with the supposed hero, turned its attention to the next nearest threat.
Which was, of course, the unnamed student who was still staring at the fountain with the kind of focused attention that suggested he was either deeply appreciating the artistry or having some kind of existential crisis.
Leo realized with growing horror that the student, his original self, or whatever he was, hadn't moved. He was still standing there, frozen in place, as seven feet of animated stone lumbered toward him with the inexorable determination of a natural disaster.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Leo groaned, scrambling to his feet. The golem's massive stone feet shook the ground with each step, sending tremors through the courtyard that rattled the windows of the surrounding buildings.