Atlas, Portilla, and Crushir stood ready in their gleaming new armor, backpacks packed stuffed with flame-resistant potions and burn creams. He glanced at the two trolls beside him, feeling a sense of responsibility as he spoke, “Okay, remember, from now on, we’re leaving Fort Bone, and when that happens, you’re humans. Not trolls, okay? Don’t tell anybody. No strangers.”
Portilla and Crushir nodded enthusiastically. “Okay,” they chimed in unison, their innocent faces eager to follow orders.
“Ok, put on your new armor.”
“Ok!”
‘If people don’t know they’re trolls, they won’t know their weakness is fire,’ Atlas thought to himself. ‘And when they watch them regenerate, they’re gonna freak their shit out.’
He turned and began walking toward the army, which was already assembled and ready to march out. He could see the mass of soldiers just ahead when, out of nowhere, the familiar buzzing of wings caught his attention. The mini fairies zipped overhead, their high-pitched voices called out as they flew in excited circles.
“Can we go? Go, go, go?” they squealed excitedly.
Atlas slowed his pace, casting a cautious look upward. “I don’t think you can leave Fort Bone,” he said, trying to reason with them.
But the mini fairies, ever persistent, took that as a question. “Let’s find out! Ask mom, ask mom!” they chanted in unison, their energy infectious as they swirled faster and faster.
***
After a few rounds of chanting, a flash of red shimmered in the air, and suddenly the Red Fairy appeared high above them. Atlas’s stomach dropped in surprise—he hadn’t expected the mini fairies to actually summon her. His mind raced, imagining her punishing him for disturbing her or, worse, for some arbitrary reason she might dream up on the spot. ‘Great,‘ he thought. ‘What if she decides I owe her some random toll? Or curses me for not having coins on hand?‘
Atlas swallowed nervously as the Red Fairy, with her usual sweet smile and a glint of mischief in her eyes, looked down at him. She was always unpredictable, and he wasn’t in the mood for one of her tricks. But, hiding his worry, he asked carefully, “Can the mini fairies come with us to the war?”
The Red Fairy’s voice dripped with her signature sickly-sweet tone, “Three can go, but you’ll have to collect one mana coin for every fallen soldier.” She paused for effect. “And no exceptions.”
Atlas’s mind immediately went to the battlefield ahead. ‘One mana coin for each fallen soldier? That’s going to be a steep fee. There are going to be a lot of fallen soldiers on all sides...‘
But the Red Fairy remained unfazed, her eyes sparkling with amusement, as the mini fairies, along with Portilla and Crushir, looked up at Atlas with their wide, pleading puppy dog eyes. Well more like, Troll puppy eyes and mini fairy puppy eyes—it was impossible to resist their collective gaze as it reached absurd levels of cuteness.
With a heavy sigh, Atlas gave in. “Fine. The mini fairies can collect the mana coin for each fallen soldier.”
The Red Fairy beamed with satisfaction, clapping her hands together. “Good luck, Atlas. And may you find plenty of loot.”
With a flick of her wings, she vanished into the sky, leaving behind the eager mini fairies buzzing around Atlas and the trolls bouncing on their feet. Atlas shook his head, relieved that she didn’t punish him on the spot, but also dreading the potential action the Red Fairy always seemed to crave.
‘‘‘
The Red Fairy, watching from her own magical plane, smiled to herself. The thought of her mini-fairies collecting even more coins made her very happy.
The Red Fairy chuckled to herself, ‘Oh, Atlas, thanks for all the mana coins.‘ In her mind, rather than a greedy beaver like Atlas had, she pictured an inner greedy Atlas instead. This Atlas was slouched, tired, with a resigned grin on his face, carrying an oversized backpack stuffed with mana coins that spilled out as he walked. Little cartoon soldiers lay passed out around him as he trudged on.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
‘‘‘
Confirming his now very ragtag-looking and motley crew, Atlas made his way to the front of the platform where the leadership team stood waiting. The army was gathered, all eyes on him, but he could only focus on the worn and battle-tested faces around him. He looked over at John, Isabella, and Alexander to confirm they were all ready.
"Well," Atlas said, scratching the back of his head, "let’s go then."
John raised an eyebrow. "Don’t you think you should give some sort of speech or something?"
Atlas froze. "A speech?" His eyes widened as panic flooded his mind. ‘Fuck, I didn’t prepare a speech. Why didn’t I think of that?‘ He glanced around, seeing anticipation on the faces of the warriors. They were expecting something—anything.
"Okay, sure," he muttered under his breath, trying to buy himself a moment. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, clearing his throat. The silence around him grew thicker as the crowd waited.
"Uh, well..." he began, awkwardly. "
‘Come on, Atlas, think!‘
Then he had a thought about a great speech.
“Warriors of Fort Bone! You stand here today as free men and women! In the face of tyranny, we have a choice. We can save the Belief settlement... or we can let our allies die. I choose to fight! Fight for our allies, our values, our dominance!"
His words hit like a war drum, stirring something deep inside the crowd.
"They may take our lives," Atlas continued, his voice rising, "but they can never take our courage! When the battle horn sounds, remember this: we will not just be fighting for ourselves! We fight for the future of our empire, for the legacy of our people!"
The crowd leaned in, hanging on his every word, their eyes blazing with the fire of his call.
"You think they know we’re coming?" Atlas shouted. "The people of the Belief settlement are awaiting our rescue!”
He pointed his sword toward the horizon, his eyes fierce. "So I ask you: will you stand with me? Will you fight for the right to live as we choose, free from tyrants and oppression? This day will be remembered, not for the blood that will be spilled, but for the stand we take together!"
Atlas's voice boomed one last time, carrying through the hearts of his people. "When they ask what we fought for, let them hear our battle cry echo across the land! For freedom! For Fort Bone! For each other! Now, who’s with me?”
"Ready!" the army shouted back, their spirits visibly lifting.
Atlas turned to John, smirking a little, "How was that for a speech?"
John grinned. "Not bad for something you pulled out of your ass."
Atlas looked proud of himself until John continued, raising an eyebrow and asked, "Isn't that mostly cribbed from Braveheart?"
Atlas shot him an embarrassed look and whispered, "Shhh. You gave me no notice, dude."
John smirked but kept quiet as the warriors cheered around them, none the wiser to Atlas's last-minute improvisation.
Atlas laughed, relieved. "Let’s go."
‘‘‘
As a new refugee, Mira, stood at the edge of Fort Bone’s walls, she watched the army march out, her heart pounding with a mix of awe and uncertainty. She had only arrived a few days ago, her mind still adjusting to the strange new life she had chosen—a life as a crafter in a fortress. This was a far cry from her previous job as a janitor.
The soldiers moving out before her weren’t the polished warriors she’d imagined when she first entered Fort Bone. Their armor was mismatched, their weapons a mix of old steel and freshly forged blades. Some marched with confidence, others with visible nerves, but there was something about their resolve that gripped her.
“So many of them,” she whispered to herself, her hands tightening around the apron she now wore as a blacksmith’s apprentice. ‘Are they all going to war?‘
A fellow crafter passed behind her, arms full of tools. “First time seeing ‘em leave, huh?” he asked, noticing her frozen stance.
Mira nodded slowly. “I… I didn’t expect it to be like this. It’s so… real.”
He chuckled. “It always hits different when you’re new. Fort Bone ain’t a fairy tale. But look at ‘em go. They’re headin’ off to fight for us, for the settlement. You’ll get used to it.”
Mira’s gaze followed the leader at the front—Atlas, she had learned, the one they all looked up to. His hot pink armor and twin swords gleamed in the light, but what really caught her eye were the two figures behind him. They were larger than the others, walking with a strange, almost human-like gait. But she’d heard whispers in the smithy about them. Trolls.
“Do people really not know what they are?” she asked quietly.
The crafter shrugged. “Not many, but no one’s gonna argue. If Atlas says they’re with him, that’s all anyone cares about.”
Mira’s eyes widened as she saw the mini fairies flitting around the soldiers like bright sparks of light. “And those… what do they do?”
“Chaos,” the crafter said with a smirk. “They’re there for the chaos. Collect mana coins from the fallen, if you can believe it.”
She swallowed, her stomach twisting. “Mana coins from the fallen? That’s—”
“A steep price, yeah. War always comes at a cost. You’ll learn that, too.”
Mira felt a chill run down her spine as she continued to watch the army disappear into the horizon, dust rising in their wake. For the first time since she’d arrived, she understood just how serious this world was. The crafters would stay behind, but it was clear now that everyone here, even those like her who worked the forges and built the defenses, were part of something bigger.
She was part of Fort Bone now. And she’d better adapt quickly if she wanted to survive.