“I gotta say, this is pretty boring,” Johan said. He grinned at Eric from where he was sitting, limbs sprawled, on the steps of the palace entrance. “You sure that someone’s going to slip in and try to attack the palace?”

“I’m almost certain of it,” Eric replied, looking coolly at his relaxed friend. “It only makes sense. With Samuels’ wards down, it’s too tempting of an opportunity.”

“Twenty of us,” Johan commented. “What’s the most that can be teleported with one spell, anyway?”

“My best guess is fourteen,” Max answered, walking over to join the conversation, his quiver rattling lightly as he walked. “So if you’re about t complain that we don’t have enough men, save your breath.”

Max had joined them only an hour ago, after hearing that Eric had organized this mission to defend the palace. Eric didn’t know exactly how he’d found out, but he’d hurried over as soon as he did. The former bodyguard of Rainhall had finally grown tired of his contract, and quit some months ago. He’d joined the Guard’s Guild again, and had been working in and around the city on odd jobs. Like Moran, he’d acquired a new set of leather armor and a wicked-looking longbow.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Johan said, a mock pout forming on his face. “But even fourteen people is a lot. And they’d be unexpected, so it could count as the element of surprise.”

“Except,” Eric interjected, keeping his voice level. Johan had always been cautious to the point of skepticism. “They won’t have the element of surprise. We’re expecting trouble, remember?”

“You are,” Johan replied with a lazy grin. “This is just another job for me. After this, I’m taking a vacation. Gonna spend some time with Jess.”

“As long as you focus on the job you have now,” Eric said, “I don’t care what you think about it.”

Johan frowned thoughtfully as they locked eyes. “You’ve changed, Eric. You’re more… serious now. I miss you when you were fun.”

“Sorry I grew up on you so fast,” Eric replied with a snort. “Alright, let’s get another patrol going.”

Johan got to his feet with a heavy sigh, and dusted the seat of his pants off. “If you insist. Sora, Max, Stevens, with me.”

Eric watched the four figures heading off, and nodded half nervously half approvingly to himself. He hadn’t expected it to be so difficult, issuing orders. It felt strange. It felt even stranger to see his orders obeyed without question. He supposed it helped that Moran and Johan had worked with him previously, and trusted him. He watched the feathered ends of the arrows in Max’s quiver bouncing slightly as they took off in a light trot. He hoped that Johan was right, and that the job would stay boring.

Unconsciously, he tried to bring the menu up for his character sheet, before remembering that it no longer existed. So instead, he sat himself down where Johan had been sitting, and closed his eyes for a moment. He concentrated on his breathing, feeling the natural power of Ki flowing through his limbs. It was strange, he thought again. With only four months of practice, he felt as if connecting to hi Ki was the easiest thing in the world. Did all Ahyans enjoy this easy, natural feeling, or was it a byproduct of the body that Samuel had made for him?

“It’s not easy being in charge.” Moran had approached while Eric gathered himself. Eric looked up now, shading his eyes against the mid-morning sun, grinning easily at his old sergeant. “I imagine you’ll get used to it quickly, though.”

“What makes you say that?” Eric asked, patting the stone stairs next to him in invitation. “You’re the leader type, not me. I’m still an Apprentice.”

“You’re hardly an Apprentice now,” Moran said. “You probably can’t tell yourself, but I can see the extraordinary growth you’ve gone through. You’ve got this intimidating aura about you.”

Eric couldn’t help a quiet laugh at that. “Forgive me if I’m disbelieving. It’s just that I’ve spent the past few months getting my ass beat by Master Ehran.”

“Well, that’s only to be expected,” Moran said with a slight shrug. “Master Ehran is known to be an expert warrior. You can’t hope to surpass that in just a year.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Eric said with another laugh. “I can always get stronger. But I have made some progress. So have you. I knew you had the skills to be a leader, but I was surprised to hear that you started a company.”

A slow smile spread across the weathered face beside him. “It’s definitely better than working solo and hiring people as I need them. After Rainhall and that mess with Attos, I got tired of being at the whim of others. Now I have a say in whether or not we take on jobs.”

A cold shiver went down Eric’s spine randomly, and he shivered slightly. That was odd. “Well, working for yourself is always nice.”

Moran opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by a shout nearby. Both he and Eric looked towards the source, jumping to their feet and drawing their weapons. Johan and Max were running back into view, with the woman Sora just behind them. It was Johan who was yelling. Eric noticed his pale face, bloody sword, and the haste in his movements. He immediately assumed the worst, and started running to meet him, calling the others to attention as he moved.

He was only ten feet away from them when he felt the ripple of mana flash through the air, washing over him. There was that chill down his spine again. He saw Stevens bursting into view around the corner, bleeding heavily from an injury in his shoulder, and knew that disaster was about to strike. Johan and Max flashed past him, turning on the spot to stand beside him. Then everything went silent.

A bright light shined through the walls of the palace, and the walls burst apart, sending chunks of stone flying in all directions. Huge pieces of rubble smashed into nearby buildings, and several pieces caught the men waiting in the palace courtyard, knocking them flat. Eric himself was struck in the shoulder, stomach, and hip by flying debris, and, in slow motion, felt himself flying back.

Boom. Now the sound ripped through the air as the explosion reached their ears, loud enough to make their ears bleed. Eric crashed to the ground, pinned under a large piece of the palace wall, and felt something in his left shoulder break. Then the smoke and dust obscured his vision, and the world resolved itself into pain, agony, and noise.

The rain of debris seemed to last for a lifetime, he thought. But it was finally over, and, with an effort, he shoved the debris pinning him down to the side. His lungs desperately dragged in fresh air, but all he got was a mouthful of the dust clogging the air. He coughed and retched, pulling himself over the nearby piles of rubble, searching for his comrades. Please let them survive, he thought. It was just a small explosion. They should be fine.

The first person he encountered with his hands was the mage, Sora. She seemed uninjured for the most part, and he could see the mana around her from whatever spell she’d just cast. Her leg was pinned by a large rock, and as Eric appeared, she was trying her best to push it off. Eric grabbed the edges of the rock and flipped it over, freeing her, then pulled her to her feet.

“Can you do anything about the dust?” He asked. She didn’t seem to hear him, so he got closer, and shouted his question again. She nodded at once, conjuring mana to her hands. Eric felt the wind stir against his face. She was a tough one, he thought. He went on the search for more of his friends.

Moran was up already, helping a shaking Max to his feet. Eric found Johan under more rubble, and helped the warrior clear the last of it off his chest. He seemed uninjured, and Eric sighed with relief. Now the dust in the air was beginning to clear, and he could breath more easily. He could also easily spot the signs of other people. Half a dozen were already up, and moving around to rescue those closest to them. Based on what he could see, six of them were too injured to continue fighting, even after Sora gave them a quick healing spell. Two were silent and unmoving.

Eric turned to stare at the palace, and saw a small body of troops exiting through the giant hole the explosion had formed. They were led by a tall, lean, muscular woman with fair hair and a hungry smile. She had no weapons on her, but the power of her aura was undeniable. She was clad completely in runic armor, save for her head, and the way she moved immediately put Eric in the mindset of a woman who leads by strength. This wouldn’t be an easy opponent to face.

“That’s Lana Beran!” Johan shouted. “Be careful, Eric?”

He’d seen Eric recovering his weapons and move to stand in the way of the intruders. Of course, Eric was aware that the woman was known. He’d seen her portrait in the palace, but hadn’t known her name. So that was the daughter of Attos, he thought. She was dressed like a warrior, but she seemed more of a mage. Probably a master of physical magicks. He set his stance firmly, balancing on the balls of his feet, ready for the fight. Thanks to Sora, his broken shoulder was now just a sore injury, adding to the dull ache that already radiated through his body.

“Welcome to Milagre,” he said, his voice carrying across the thirty or so feet that separated them. “I’m going to have to ask you to lay down your weapons and surrender. I can’t guarantee what will happen to you else.”

Lana Beran had come to a halt, her soldiers standing behind her, surveying the damage that their spell had done. She had a wide smile on her face, but, as before, it wasn’t a sign of mirth or humor. It was a hungry expression, and even at this distance, Eric could feel her bloodlust. She couldn’t have been more than two or three years older than him, but the difference in their upbringing couldn’t have been more obvious.

“Thank you for that warm welcome,” She said. “You remind me of another I met at the Exchange. You have the same kind of aura that she had. Very interesting.”

Without asking, Eric instinctively knew she was talking about Megan. He crouched a little lower, weapons ready. “I’m flattered. I take it you won’t surrender.”

She took a moment to reply, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that her friends were ready. Then she gestured them to wait, and took a few steps forward. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Very well,” Eric said. He hadn’t expected any other answer. “Then tell me. What should I tell your family?”

She hesitated in her stride, and she seemed faintly surprised. The smile was only gone for a moment, then it returned, wider and more sinister than before. It was a common taunt in Ahya, Eric had learned. It also marked him as a major threat in their eyes, which was his intention. He wanted the others to have enough time to gather themselves. He could bear the brunt of the fighting until then. Lana moved two paces forward, and crouched.

The speed of her charge nearly caught Eric unaware, but he managed to spin just in time, deflecting the greater part of her force to the side. Her attack was weaker than he’d expected, but the barrier that came to life to block his attack was incredible. She made no move to block, continuing to attack, relying on her barriers to block any counterattack he launched. She forced him to dance around again and again, storing up momentum and energy as he dodged.

The training he’d been undertaking over the past week, and the months before, such a minor feature for so long, now asserted itself, and he gave himself over to his instinct. Master Ehran’s movements in the first stretch of fighting came to him, and he jumped back to avoid a downward strike, then moved in again and cut twice. His blade sheared through one of the runes on her shoulder, drawing blood there. He saw the surprise in her face, then the second blade slammed into her ribs, knocking her back a few inches.

Eric landed lightly on his feet, the last attack having lfited him a few inches off the ground. For good measure, he let the coil unwind, summoning the white wolf. It appeared to spin out of his body, landing just behind him, its head peering over his shoulder, snarling at his opponent.

“Not done already, are you?” Eric asked, forcing a grin onto his face. “Hunter is still hungry.”