The Ancients were hunted down ages ago. Or so we thought.

Majestic begins made of concentrated magic, they don't obey any and all laws of the world, free from reality like birds were free from the ground itself. Their various forms were similarly inspired by a lack of logic and the abstraction of any sense was only an option, as if the game of some deity getting high on creation itself. Some of the really old recordings of them picture them as heavenly light, living forests, or gods, or if they were really accurate, it was beyond even the wildest imaginations.

And they were beasts, immortal and never born. They would always exist - something cannot die if it has never been born in the first place. Yet, with time, magic in existence itself started to disperse, and slowly but surely they descended from immortality. Still, their ages were unimaginable.

During about the time when magic started dispersing, humanity started understanding it better, and made technology out of it - there weren’t that many of us that could wield it and they still are incredibly rare today. But the era of the Ancients was approaching its end. They were simply too big or bent reality itself only with their presence. And their skin, bones, and tissues were the most powerful catalysts for any sophisticated magitech of the highest caliber. Where was the problem with hunting creatures that not only caused catastrophes by existing but also gave the resources that would advance the entirety of humanity into the next age of technology? We should be thankful to the hunters for bringing us their corpses.

Were they ever sentient? Being so beyond anything else, immortal? And if so, why did they give up so easily to only a bunch of people with magic swords? Was it murder that generations of humanity did? And would it have mattered? Perhaps not.

Today, the hunting of Ancients wasn’t really all that lucrative, considering that there were no Ancients to hunt. There was only an old tradition that kept a bloodline recorded of the last hunter that brought down the last Ancient. The last inheritor was a bitter aging woman who was the current director of the military academy of Noelle one of the greatest human cities.

I was one of the academy’s trainees, just about to take one of the most physically demanding tests that would discern if I was eligible to become King’s Guard - the most prestigious position for any soldier. Even if there weren’t that many wars as of late. Or none at all.

“Move your ass, Winters!” A clear icy voice shot out from the speakers behind me. “I'm growing roots from waiting, and I’m not letting you go until you clear ‘em out too!”

I felt the sigh leave my chest. I still didn’t know if I would miss or be happy to never hear Captain Trello’s odd threats.

Before me, there was a short, tall, and wide corridor covered in shock-resistant white tiling. It was lined from one end to the other with various outlandish obstacles that I had to go through to get to the bone-white magitech armor with golden encrustations at the very end beyond the safety line.

Observing every encounter along the way, I hardly gathered any motivation to continue. Fortunately, I had plenty of stubborn determination, which was enough to move me forward.

First up, large thin spikes meant to stab you, spilling fire from their ends. Next, a large pit that I couldn’t cross over without a certain flying contraption. After, a shifting labyrinth of white walls filled with some of the first and a whole bunch of other pleasantly deadly things.

Taking a breath, I gripped the only help the academy allows for the exam - a magitech sword. Releasing the air in my lungs, I started running.

The spikes were predictable, coming out of the floor and walls, but I had to throw myself through the rapidly closing gap between them to evade the wall of fire. That’s exactly when a new set of spikes I didn’t anticipate popped in front of my face, their tips covered in frost.

Taking a split second to realize what was going to happen, I rolled to the side and pressed myself against the wall as the painfully blue fire roared along the floor where I had just landed. Dead fire, freezes things rapidly instead of burning them. The floor below was covered in a thick layer of dry ice.

Catching my breath, the air being painfully cold against my throat, I realized I still had my sword. I gave a quick thrust in the air and a flash of light sliced through the flames, putting them out for a long enough moment for me to clamber to the other side, where the air’s natural humidity had turned into snow that was gently falling around me.

Finally, I could really breathe. My heart was already thudding in my ears, my vision was concentrating on one point only - forward. If I didn’t use the adrenaline now, I would end up with useless shaking limbs and nowhere near my goal.

Shaking off the cold from my body, I stepped up to the seemingly bottomless pit. The only way to cross it was this powered hang glider that was supposed to boost me to the other side.

Without having any time to think, I sheathed the sword and grabbed the glider. Being obviously military-grade, I had to twist the “hang” part of it to activate it’s boosters. A satisfying sound of many metallic plates sliding against one another unfolded behind me, making the whole glider vibrate. They were hover engines that helped lift pretty much any weight.

Holding onto the glider properly, I kicked myself off the ledge and became essentially weightless, unless I let go of the bar. Boosting myself further, I had reached the middle of the pit when one of the engines betrayed me with a quiet explosion, its parts falling on my back like some cursed heavy rain.

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The glider swerved, threatening to throw me off into the darkness below and before I could think it, I pushed the power of the surviving engine to the end. Shooting up and spinning way too much, I got just close enough to the other ledge to let myself be thrown off with a rough landing, one of my legs suspended above certain death.

The glider, now having lost its handler, started whirring pathetically and descending, until it slammed against one of the walls and with another quiet explosion ended its short life.

Maybe that’s what Captain Trello meant by winking and wishing me luck. I couldn’t consider myself more lucky than this.

With a lot of groaning and cursing, I dragged myself to the surety of solid ground, breathing heavily. A couple of moments later, that same stubborn determination dragged me up and propped me against the next obstacle.

The shifting labyrinth almost made me give up, but instead, I felt my jaw clench and I moved forward yet again.

Dead fire and actual fire glazed the air before my eyes, suffocating me. The long spikes now were aiming for any of my weak spots and forced me to block with my sword as if I were in a duel. Pits of death were trying to open underneath my legs. The walls were reordering themselves to keep me inside forever.

The worst of it was that this exam was to be taken on the responsibility of the one taking it. All of it was an actual threat of death. Failing it would immediately cause you to be moved to the medical wing, but the really careless ones had attempted this and died by their own hubris. And the fact that Captain Trello was watching from above did not help any of it.

Reaching a point that seemed like the other side of the labyrinth, the walls shifted again, and fortunately, I was lost enough to steal a glance at a gleaming white orb that seemed to be in the center and the power core of all the traps that had been slowly chipping away at my resolve.

My hands started doing what I started visualizing in my mind. Gripping the two ends of the guards of my sword, I pulled the sword apart. The milky emerald blade split and reformed into a bow with a white string of light between the two ends that were the sword’s handle in white and gold.

Doing another bout through the traps, I was aiming for the next dead end that would cause the labyrinth to shift, while keeping the direction of the center in my mind. Finally, feeling the walls move, I pulled on the string.

The surrounding light gathered like a swarm of little stars into the form of a glowing arrow. Falling on one knee, taking a breath, and pulling the arrow next to my cheek, I spied the center and released the arrow with a sigh.

The arrow threaded through the rotating walls and disappeared from sight, before the labyrinth froze, broken.

Allowing myself a moment of respite, let my head rest on my knee and my lungs take a couple of breaths that were not singed nor icy.

Then, standing up quickly, I folded the bow back into a sword and snuck between the now-still walls.

When I was out, a small clearing separated me from the promised days of everything I’d ever wanted. And before me appeared something I thought was only some myth or an inside joke between the people who had gotten out of this alive.

Five martial artists dressed in blinding white emerged from their respective columns alongside the walls and took battle positions.

Before I could either laugh or cry, one of them was already swinging a wide kick at the side of my temple.

Blocking the kick with the flat side of my blade, I pushed against the light body and although somewhat shaken, I managed to send back a wide flash of light that would either cut them or burn them pretty badly. The one I had pushed simply jumped over and the other four dodged under and slid forward.

Mirroring the movement myself, I knelt, dodging four more kicks while the fifth was readying to do something else, and swinging my sword again, I used the next flash as a distraction to grip one of them by the leg and throw them on the ground with a thud, realizing that their bodies were magically lightened, probably by their clothes.

The other four stepped back and gave me a moment of readjustment as I kicked the one on the floor unconscious. If it was anything that was going to make me fail, I was determined not to let it be a bunch of monkeys in white.

Switching the sword into my left hand, I started using it as a distraction, to attempt to do what I had just done again, but the other four had learned a lesson and were not dodging near me, but circling around and below, before showering my abdomen and the sides of my torso with punches in quick succession, before jumping out of range once again. I found myself turning around, getting beaten, and getting lost and frustrated. It wasn’t going to be long before one of them decided to finish me off.

One of them, however, was too bold and I managed to spin around and land a hit with my handle. Whoever they were, their air got shot out of their lungs and they dropped to the ground, gasping. I almost brought my blade down, but I realized that no one was supposed to die in this hall.

By that time another kick released the grip on my sword and it flew off my hand. But I managed to clench my fist and strike right between the martial artist’s legs, making him groan and fall backward, momentarily neutralized.

Another one came low and aimed for my sides again, but this time I was too tired to try and dodge. Instead, I took two hits, before swinging my arm around and slamming it against their head. Shocking them only for a moment, I lunged, gripped their throat, and kicked them with a knee in the stomach. Dropping down, they wheezed and I gave them another kick for good measure.

Then, I and the last one locked eyes. Then we both looked at the sword. I was just a bit closer. So I lunged again, falling on the ground and gripping it with one hand, only for their legs to step on top of it and slide it away.

Sitting back and standing up, they started another series of kicks and punches and I could only wearily block some of them while others pushed me back again and again, getting closer to the labyrinth’s walls. It had to end here, somehow.

Leaving myself purposefully open, I managed to bait them and grab their leg. Exchanging a stare, I started pushing them by the leg, rotating us so that their back was against the wall where I pushed with all my strength. Their light body slammed against the tiles with a thud and with a kick in the chest, they dropped down.

Seeing the one recovering from their hit between the legs, I rushed over and swiftly broke their nose. With another groan, they really fell back and gripped their face.

Breathing heavily, I turned around to meet the glisten of the King’s Guard armor.

“Congratulations, Winters. You have been promoted to King’s Guard!” Announced Captain Trello. With a beating heart, I stepped into the safety zone, when the goosebumps on my neck warned me to duck. Metallic sliding had sounded from both my sides and just when I dropped, the air above me roared with fire.

When it stopped, I had just chosen to lie down and not move anymore. I may be stubborn, but I had my limits and I had just about reached them for the day.

“And never forget,” continued the speakers. “There aren’t any safe zones in the real world.”

Something I was sure to never miss was the academy’s humor.