For a task that required them to move quickly and lay low through Wyrith's city, being surrounded by a pack of guards was not the way to accomplish it. Instead of the smiles and praises — the pleas to heal their families and prayers to be blessed by the God of Life just as she was — that Ilyana normally received, she only encountered blank and frustrated stares. As word spread like shadows in newly forged twilight that the princess was present among her people, hordes started to swallow them whole.

It began with a High Elf questioning what was happening with the wall of magic, to which Ilyana had tried her best to assure him everything was okay. However, her answer didn't provide the satisfaction that everyone craved. Screams, cries, and shoves followed suit and the crowds were rife with fervent demands.

The princess was glad they had the additional guards so a ring of safety could be formed around her. If her people were vicious with kicks and scratches to her protectors in full armour, what would they do to her?

King Mortas had a speech prepared for the late morning to soothe everyone's worries, but that wouldn't quell the rampage they had to deal with now.

After long, gruelling hours of shuffling through the streets of Wyrith, the angry mobs finally lost interest and their group was nearly out of the housing district. A few persistent people still attempted to cling to the hope of an answer, but the guards made quick work of sending them on their way.

Ilyana's legs ached and her head pounded with the sounds of yelled questions still echoing in her skull. It was almost noon and they still hadn't made it out of the kingdom's main towns. Her gaze shifted to the companions she travelled with. The guards seemed tired too, their shoulders slumped and steps dragging. The only one who didn't appear to be affected was Clove.

"Can we sit down for a moment?" she asked as they passed a bench.

The captain scanned the area, making sure to note if any danger was nearby. "Sure. I bet you're glad you're not the one carrying this now." She slid the bags off her shoulders and placed them next to Ilyana.

The narrow intersection she chose looked down onto three streets — the one they walked down, one that led to further housing, and another that would lead them out of the city. It was mostly quiet as people were either at work or had been following them in the crowds outside the castle, save for a few chirping birds that made their homes in the crooks of buildings. Fireflies in the surrounding streetlights settled down to rest after a long night of illuminating the area.

"It's useful. Everything in there is needed in case of an emergency." One that she wished would never occur. "Are you not tired yet? You were yelling at people to move the most and steering us through the panic."

Clove stretched her arms out in front of her, cracking her fingers as she interlocked her hands. "This is nothing compared to the training I had in the Kingdom of Nicitor. They had us run up and down a small mountain every morning for stamina. Vultures swooped down in an attempt to eat us while we were focused on not falling down," she described nonchalantly, as if the danger she had faced was normal.

"If that was for stamina, I don't want to consider what else they put you through." Ilyana's eyes widened. It was no wonder why her father said her training gave her an upper hand.

"They weren't pleasant, that's for sure," she admitted. "It makes the Wyrith training regime look like a haven."

The closest guard who had also been eyeing the bench huffed. "Your drills are no haven. Cloven has all of us regretting showing up. Our muscles ache for days."

The captain's response to her torture was a wild grin. "You'll grow to like it. Eventually."

"And your parents approved of you being pecked by vultures first thing in the morning? Alongside the other training you did?" For all Ilyana knew, her parents might have done the exact same thing.

"They-" Clove paused, a wave of sorrow passing through her features before her smile returned. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't-"

"Alright, that's enough rest for now." She cut her off, the steel in her tone a clear warning not to dig any further. "We should get moving or we won't be back in time for your father's curfew."

Ilyana frowned. Why wouldn't she know if her parents approved of the training she did? Perhaps she had practised in secret since the methods were harsh and she wouldn't be allowed. A lump lodged in the princess' throat. Or, maybe she had never found her parents in the Kingdom of Nicitor.

The captain's head snapped up, her eyes racing to the rooftops, as a loud creak sounded around them. She pushed Ilyana back into the bench and drew a dagger from underneath her chestplate. "On second thought, wait here."

Clove motioned with two fingers for a pair of guards to trace the path they had ventured down and another set to form a barrier against the paths the intersection gave access to. The rest circled the princess, acting as a fortified shield, without being ordered.

"What did you hear?" Ilyana whispered, searching for the culprit of the sound. All she received in reply was a glare from her protector, signalling for her to keep quiet.

A sudden clatter of metal seized their attention as a guard was kicked in the stomach, making him roll across the cobbled bricks and into Clove's legs. The attacker huffed in victory, plumes of rotted smoke leaving his mouth.

Towering over its prey and blocking sunlight from the intersection was a cutthroat Ogre bedecked in large fighting leathers. Thin wisps of ivory hair made a weak attempt at hiding the bald head that was slick with sweat, the rest of his green-tainted skin glistening with it too. Two sharp tusks jutted out of the corners of his mouth, the elongated teeth speckled with stains of crimson.

"Perfect," the Ogre growled with a deep rumble reverberating from his chest. "We don't have to spend the whole day searching. The redhead is already here." With thick fingers, he signalled for smaller, cloaked figures to jump down from the buildings surrounding them, blocking off their every exit.

"And who might be looking for this redhead?" Clove questioned, securing more blades in her hands.

He grinned. "Boss' favourite assassin didn't clean up her mess. You could say we've come to finish what Morana couldn't."

The plan the princess had conjured in her mind was a lot rougher than she had intended. She hadn't wanted to deal with Morana on top of the sorcerer, but now it seemed they had no choice. However, it didn't appear that the necromancer was with them unless she was still lurking on the rooftops.

"It's incredibly bold of you to think that you'll be able to take down my guard when one of your superiors, I'm assuming, couldn't," Ilyana retorted.

Clove's eyes flared as the attention of the Ogre honed in on the royalty she had sworn her life to protect. "I think it's valiant to hand yourself over to the Wyrith royal guard for questioning." She stepped in front of her, flashing a pair of handcuffs attached to her belt with a smile.

The Ogre chuckled. "You're going to need a bigger pair if you want to get close to capturing me." The cloaked figures circled closer, forcing the guards into a tighter space for the brewing battle. "This is going to be a great day. Wyrith guard blood under our nails and a princess to bring back to Silas."

"Hide behind that bench. Now," the captain ordered and Ilyana wasted no time in heeding her command, bringing her satchel with her.

She had hoped she wouldn't need to use her medical supplies, but it seemed she had teased fate too far. It had to give into the dare she had proposed. Now, she could only pray that the injuries they received wouldn't be too damaging. That her magic would be able to heal anything the resources couldn't fix.

With a resolve cast in iron, Clove approached the Ogre who reached out to grab her with a fist the size of her torso. She rolled beneath the attack and lodged two daggers into his knee, the responding grunt of pain reverberating in the houses around them.

The assault triggered the rest of the fighting to commence — a burst of chaos and mayhem that brought Ilyana's magic rioting to the surface. She could only watch between the gaps of wood she used for cover.

Despite the shields and various weapons the guards were armed with, none of them could seem to get any hits on the nimble shadows. Relentless attacks that dented and scratched their armour forced them to be on a constant wave of defence. Each swipe grew closer and closer to the weak spots the metal held, causing the princess to flinch at every hit. An axe was disarmed by one of the cloaked assassins and the guard's gaze followed it as it landed much too far out of reach, giving the perfect opportunity for a final blow.

"No!" Ilyana cried as a blade was plunged underneath the guard's arm. Claws extended from the assassin's knuckles, piercing through their already torn gloves, and ripped their chestplate in two. With a swift kick to the ground, the talons plunged into the guard's chest to pull out their heart.

It landed beside the twitching body, still beating and spurting out blood.

Chapter Word Count: 1,635
Total Word Count: 29,638