The air was thick with the stench of smoke and decay as Ronon, Kellan, Thalia, and Jorin made their way through the dense forest that bordered Lormund. They had been sent out to scout ahead, hoping to find any sign of the Circle of Shadows' next move. After their victory against the Undying, the defenders of Lormund had earned a brief respite, but it was clear that the Circle would strike again—and soon.
"This feels too quiet," Thalia whispered, her eyes scanning the treeline. "The Circle wouldn't retreat without leaving a trail, and yet... nothing."
Ronon nodded in agreement, his senses on high alert. "I don't like it either. Something's not right."
Kellan, ever the optimist, shrugged. "Maybe they're licking their wounds. We did just obliterate their undead army, after all."
"Or they're waiting for the perfect moment to strike back," Jorin said darkly, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.
The group pressed on, their movements swift and cautious. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest floor. It was the perfect time for an ambush, and Ronon knew it.
As they reached a clearing, Ronon held up a hand to signal for the others to stop. His instincts screamed danger, and he scanned the area with a practiced eye. There was something off about the clearing—an unnatural stillness that set his nerves on edge.
"This is wrong," Ronon said, his voice low. "We shouldn't be here."
Thalia looked around, her brow furrowed. "It's too open. We need to find cover, now."
Before they could react, a sharp whistle cut through the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of arrows being loosed from the trees above. In an instant, the forest erupted into chaos as dozens of black-clad figures descended upon them, their faces obscured by dark masks—the Circle of Shadows had laid their trap, and Ronon and his companions were caught right in the center of it.
"Take cover!" Ronon shouted, diving behind a fallen log as arrows rained down around them.
Kellan barely managed to roll out of the way, his sword flashing in the fading light as he deflected a few arrows that came too close for comfort. "Guess we found their trail!"
Jorin was already on the offensive, charging toward a group of the ambushers with a fierce battle cry. His sword clashed with theirs in a flurry of sparks and steel, but the Circle's soldiers were well-trained and relentless.
"We're surrounded!" Thalia called out, her daggers flashing as she parried an attack from behind. "There's no way out!"
Ronon cursed under his breath, his mind racing. They had walked right into the enemy's trap, and now they were fighting for their lives. But giving up wasn't an option. If they were going to survive, they had to break through the enemy's lines and find a way to regroup.
"Thalia, Jorin, form up on me!" Ronon barked, slashing through a pair of Circle soldiers as he made his way toward them. "Kellan, cover our rear! We're breaking through to the north!"
The group moved as one, their years of battle-honed experience guiding their movements. Thalia danced through the enemy ranks with deadly precision, her daggers finding their mark with every strike. Jorin's heavy sword cleaved through the enemy's defenses, his raw strength overpowering even the most skilled of the Circle's warriors.
But the Circle had them outnumbered, and more soldiers kept pouring in from the shadows of the forest.
"They're trying to overwhelm us!" Kellan shouted from the rear, fending off a group of archers who had taken aim at them. "We need to move faster!"
Ronon gritted his teeth, his sword flashing as he carved a path through the Circle's ranks. They were running out of time. Every second they spent in the clearing gave the enemy more opportunities to close in on them. The Circle wanted them dead—and they weren't going to stop until Ronon and his companions were either captured or slain.
As they fought their way toward the northern edge of the clearing, Ronon spotted something out of the corner of his eye—a flash of silver in the trees above. His instincts kicked in just in time. He threw himself to the ground, narrowly avoiding a deadly strike from above. A masked assassin, clad in the distinctive armor of the Circle's elite, dropped down from the trees, landing in front of him with cat-like grace.
"So, the hero of Lormund shows his true strength," the assassin sneered, drawing two wickedly curved blades. "Let's see if the stories about you are true."
Ronon didn't waste words. He surged forward, his sword clashing against the assassin's blades in a deadly dance of steel. The assassin was fast—far faster than any opponent Ronon had faced before—but he had trained for this. Each of the assassin's strikes was met with a precise parry, but Ronon could feel the pressure mounting.
The assassin grinned behind his mask, clearly enjoying the fight. "Is this all you've got? The mighty Ronon Atreus, brought low by a single blade?"
Ronon's eyes narrowed, his focus sharpening. He had heard enough taunts in his time as a warrior, and this assassin was no different. With a sudden, fluid movement, he sidestepped the assassin's next attack and countered with a swift strike to the man's side. The assassin staggered, a look of surprise crossing his face before he collapsed to the ground, clutching his wound.
But there was no time to celebrate. The rest of the Circle's forces were still closing in, and the fight was far from over.
"Now!" Ronon shouted, urging his companions to press forward.
With a final, desperate push, the group broke through the enemy's lines and into the cover of the forest. Behind them, the Circle's forces regrouped, unwilling to pursue them too far into the dense woods.
Panting and bloodied, Ronon, Kellan, Thalia, and Jorin slowed their pace once they were sure they had evaded pursuit. They had escaped the ambush—but just barely.
"This was no ordinary patrol," Thalia said, wiping the blood from her daggers. "They were waiting for us. The Circle knew we'd be here."
Ronon sheathed his sword, his mind racing with possibilities. "They're getting more aggressive. This wasn't just an ambush—it was a warning. The Circle is preparing for something big."
Jorin nodded grimly. "Then we need to be ready."
The ambush had shaken them, but it had also made one thing clear: the Circle of Shadows wasn't going to stop until Lormund—and the kingdom—was theirs. Ronon and his companions would have to fight harder than ever before if they were going to survive the coming storm.