In the early hours of the morning, when the sun had just started to peek over The Albus Mons, the morning shift of palace guards took their positions along the fortress’s wooden walls. Some of them were on high alert, their eyes scanning the treeline for the mana users they knew hid there. Others yawned and leaned against their spears with practiced disinterest, deciding it was better instead to discuss last night's party.

  The man in charge of this crumbling fortress was part of the former group of men, his spear whacking any man discussing their hangover rather than focusing on the danger. They grumbled and complained, all going right back to their moronic conversations the moment his back was turned.

  But every eye turned towards the far side of the forest, almost opposite of where the reports of mana users were supposed to be in the surrounding area, when an entire retinue of soldiers started marching out from under the trees and up the hill. The captain barked orders for the men to stand ready, since the retinue held up flags bearing the Archduke's colours.

  At their head strode the Ant Killer, broad shouldered and straight backed as always. He looked strange however. His gaze was as piercing as always, but now lazy… and unblinking. It remained locked on their captain, who stepped through the fortress gate when they were a hundred feet away.

  In case this was a trick, the slope would give them an advantage. That, and and the traps laid out the week before that sat between him and the approaching retinue.

  “Halt!” the Captain called out.

  “Okay!” the Ant Killer called back, holding up his hand in a mocking way, all the soldiers at his back stopping at once.

  Two men stepped forward to join his side. One of them was missing an arm, and the other looked traumatized, his eyes wide and scanning as he fiddled with the loaded crossbow in his arms. The captain didn’t like the look of this, and the Ant Killer was known to be difficult to all who wore purple. So the captain signaled with his fingers to the men behind him to spread out, and to get their spears ready.

  “State your business!” The captain called, pushing the tip of his spear forward.

  “I don’t want to!” the Ant Killer called back.

  The captain’s face scrunched. The palace guards were unsure of what to do with that, especially since the Ant Killer's own men were giving him side eyes. The captain tapped his spear on the ground, and all his men leveled their spears forward in one smooth, practiced motion.

  “You will state your business or you will be executed on the spot!” the captain shouted, far more sure now than ever he was talking to the mana users.

  He just didn’t know there were so many of them. He had heard there were only three. But he knew who their leaders were, up front and center. Once more he gave a signal, and two of his men retreated within a heartbeat, running down the staircase at the center of their camp back to the palace to inform the men to prepare.

  They were being invaded.

  The mana users were not idle during his preparation, the ‘Ant Killer’, or the one wearing his face at least, leaned down and whispered something in the ear of the man with the crossbow. The crossbow man took a half step back like he’d heard something insane, but a single glance from the ‘Ant Killer’ had the crossbow man nodding along like a beaten dog.

  The Captain didn’t care. They were distracted and hostile. All he had to do was get them to take a step forward. “Sir! Please choose two men and step forward, so that we may not have to shout at each other from such a distance!”

  The ‘Ant Killer’s smile turned to a grin. “I thought you’d never ask!”

  Without warning, he picked up the crossbowman and flung him high into the air. The Captain reeled back, and roared at his men to get down, but it was too late. The bolt that leapt from the crossbow turned into a multitude, almost half of his thirty man squadron crying out as the bolts struck them through the open door.

  The Captain glanced back towards the ‘Ant Killer’, knowing he was most likely the biggest threat. The man had run through half the traps already, his calves and feet pulling Rass traps and spikes out of the ground as each one found their mark and made not one lick of difference.

  He thrust his spear forward, catching the man in the shoulder as the man's face melted away, revealing a king with a mad man's smile. It was the last thing the captain ever saw, because the blade severed his head before he had even noticed.

  ~break~

  Ellis screamed as he fell through the air, knowing there were traps where he would land. Ameena was assisting Michael from what he could see, many versions of the man materializing out of thin air as they charged towards the fortress walls.

  He prayed to the gods that he had made his dexterity high enough as he fell through the air. Pumping his ring full of mana just before his feet hit the floor, his entire body still vibrated from the impact he made with that hard mountain surface. He didn’t waste a second, and threw himself backward in a roll just as a Rasstrap clamped shut beneath his feet. The roll brought him back to Ameena’s side. She was cradling her right arm, an arrow sticking out of her shoulder.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Stop standing around and shoot Ellis!” She ordered, her eyes scanning the path in front of them.

  A moment later, and without warning, she dashed forward, and somehow made it through all the traps without setting off a single one.

  Ellis obliged her, loading his crossbow with practiced hands now. As he loaded it he saw his shoe had been stolen by that Rass trap, and he bristled at the thievery. Bringing the crossbow back up to his shoulder, he fired towards the chaos that lay within the fortress, the guards trying desperately to get around Michael as he cut through them with ease.

  The guards had been surprised by Ellis’s initial volley, many taking wounds as Michael killed three men before they could blink. But there were thirty of them, and these were not regular guards.

  His second volley as he crossed the trap pit was not nearly as effective, many of the guards simply dodging out of the way, and those who were hit were dragged behind a growing wall of tables, chairs and furniture that cut through the middle of the fortress floor. Bow and crossbowman fired at Ellis as he ran, the ring taking the majority of the punishment.

  Ellis’s eyes and feet were quick enough to allow him to dodge many of the arrows that seemed particularly dangerous. Michael didn’t care, allowing the arrows to cover his body head to toe once again. Except now not a single arrow touched anywhere near his hips. He moved his ass out the way of every shot below his bellybutton like he was dancing a jig, rather than fighting elite guards.

  The illusions were taking the brunt of the damage. Ameena was hiding behind one of the doors leading into the fortress, a second arrow now sticking out of her bad arm. She was hissing in pain, still throwing around illusions. Loud, casual conversations filled the air, but not even they could drown out all the men screaming for help.

  Ellis got to the front of the makeshift wooden fortress, and dived through the open doors just before the guards managed to close it, dragging Ameena in with him. He poured the last of his mana into his crossbow as he rolled to his feet. The three men that had managed to close the door dying in a hail of bolts, their gurgles louder than any of the noise surrounding Ellis.

  He hauled Ameena to a table lying on its side, and threw the woman behind it. Michael was fighting his way to the makeshift wall the guards had erected, all of their attention on the big man. Ellis and Ameena were still by the entrance doors, trying their best not to draw the attention of anything as they caught their breath for a moment.

  He tore a knife from his scabbard as she managed to sit up and lean against its underside.

  “Ellis! How many are left!?” Ameena screamed over the noise, holstering her wand and bringing out her knife.

  He scanned the fortress floor. “Eitheen!”

  Michael tore the spear from his shoulder and drove it through two men’s bellies, the second man managing to turn his shoulder into it just in time. He was still screaming as Michael tossed them aside and waved six men forward at once. They circled him now, but five men break off to deal with Ameena and Ellis, the rest focusing on him.

  “Seventeen if you count the wounded!” Ellis corrected, as he unclipped the crossbow and quiver from his shoulder. “Here, take this! Give me the knife, and cover my back!”

  She glared at him. “I can fight you stupid boy!”

  “Your arm’s turning blue woman! For fucks sake just give me the knife and heal, I’ll draw their attention away!” he ordered.

  She gave in with a grunt, tossing the knife at him as the palace guards moved in, each giving hand signals they thought were out of Ellis’s sight. It didn’t matter, he didn’t know what they meant anyway.

  Relying on his eyes, he dashed forward into the first two, kicking the mud and salt that had accumulated at the bottom of his foot at their faces. The mud flew into the first man’s eyes, blinding him long enough for Ellis to sneak a blade across his throat.

  A sword came hurtling towards from his right, and he managed to duck under it as the first man fell. He rose to his full height right underneath the new swordsman's chin, crushing the top of his head into the bottom of the palace guard's jaw and receiving a loud crunching sound in response. The swordsman threw his hand out wildly, smacking Ellis across the face which made him stumble backwards.

  The whistle of steel passed his ear. He turned his shoulder just in time to avoid losing an arm, but the skin on his upper arm was wrenched off in one smooth motion, as if carving a turkey skin. Ellis screamed and thrust his good arm towards the assailant. The knife buried itself to the hilt in his cheek, his body convulsing the moment the blade struck home.

  Ellis couldn’t wrench the knife out in time before another man tried sticking the blade into his stomach, and he bounded out the way. He backed into the table hiding Ameena in his attempt to keep the snarling men away from her.

  Three men came toward him, their eyes alight with fury now that two of their comrades had died.

  “I could use some help!” Ellis roared over his shoulder.

  “Then duck!” Ameena screamed.

  She stood up as he did so, swinging his crossbow out over his head.

  The whistle of multiple bolts flew an inch over his head before he hit the floor. Laying on that hardwood floor allowed Ellis a moment to breathe, but then he was back on his feet, and ready to fight.

  Two of the men lay dead, full of bolts, but the last one was sitting upright, staring at the bolt sticking out of his chest like a lost child. He looked up at Ellis, and through broken teeth said, “I want my mom.”

  The light left his eyes a moment later, and he slumped to the ground a dead man.

  Ellis stood there, staring at his body as Ameena came up beside him. “You good?”

  His voice was hoarse. “Dandy.”

  “Good. There’s still ten men left. Get ready.” She marched forward, tearing the knife he lost out of the dead man’s head. Without a moment’s hesitation, she threw herself at the back of the large number of men still surrounding Michael.

  He seemed to be enjoying it, but even he was starting to dodge the sword strikes coming towards him. Ellis looked to where Ameena had stopped, and saw she had left his crossbow and quiver with him.

  He picked it up, loaded it, and once more charged into the frey, trying his best not to cry.