Author’s note:: This is my first story that I uploaded to fanfiction.net. I know that some of you noticed that I uploaded someone else’s story before this one, but please understand that it was by complete mistake.

Another Note:: This story takes place in a world parallel to ours. Vast seas and high mountains separate the 5 different continents. Many monsters, mythical creatures, and demons roam this desolate world. Large kingdoms, underground empires, and various guilds control the lands. Also, each person in born with a class. There are psychics, brutes, vampires, halfies, norms, and much more. Well you should just read it. You will figure it out. Anyway I hope you like this one. Please review!

                Zeiken waited in the darkness, all around him the radiating feeling of death and sorrow. His eyelids were slightly closed, though in the darkness it didn’t matter. Zeiken kept his hands pressed against he sides of the crate to stabilize himself. His mind dared not wander off the slightest, but he must focus on his goal. Terroz must fall to TriLance.

                It was a brilliant plan, almost full-proof. The boxes they were hiding in, sealed shut, were covered with empty boxes. Surely, Zeiken thought, they would not be discovered. There were seven elites altogether. Zeiken, Zev, Jexen, Ty, Keizar, Merk, and Trepe. Zeiken commanded the Elites. They were to wait for the Terroz chapel bell to ring 4 times. They would then hop out, and take over the city. Well, not quite. The Elites were to only capture the Chancellor and the Regent, and by then the TriLancian forces would have arrived to do most of the work.

                The rickety caravan rolled along the path to Terroz. In the distance Zeiken could smell the roasting of Terroz  Pickles. The sweet scent filled his nostrils. They were growing closer to the city. Zeiken closed his eyes and began to concentrate. He could feel the blood in his veins flowing through him. Chances were the other six elites were doing the same.

                Zeiken went over the attack plan in his head numerous times. After they got out of the crates, they were to take out to force 1 guards and make their way to the Royal chamber, where the regent should be. Once the regent falls, the prince will be an easy  target. Trilancian airships would soon follow, dropping off footmen to maintain the outcome.

                The cart slowly pulled to a stop. The driver was heard getting out. His footsteps faded into the distance. Tension was building. This was the last chance they had to seize Terroz. Geonian delegates could possibly find more reason in signing a treaty after TriLance shows it's power with this attack. Sounds of kids playing was heard in the distance. The bell begin to ring. Doong. It seemed like minutes before the bell rang again. Doong.

"Is this going to work?" He thought to himself. Doong. "It has to work. We must not fail." Doong.That was the Signal. Zeiken pushed off the bottom of the crate, smashing through the lid. Splinters of wood showered the surrounding area as the others revealed themselves. Zeiken clenched the handle of his sword and his mighty blade was unsheathed. He landed on the ground with cat-like grace, and scanned the area with his eyes. The closes target was standing about 16 meters away in front of the cargo gate. Zeiken pounced forward, as Zev took out the caravan driver who was now pretty far away. Merk headed for the guard opposite the one Zeiken was going for. Zeiken reached the guared, and reared his sword back. With a flick of his arm, the blade cut through the man's defending sword, and went straight into his neck. Zeiken jerked his sword back, and began looking for another target.

                "For TriLance!" Zeven, elite number 3, yelled. Following his battle cry, the others echoed the chant.

"Terroz would finally fall" Zeiken thought to himself, as he sprinted towards the gate guard. Zeiken got in his way and kicked him back. the sweet feeling of battle, the magnificence of holding such an elagant weapon, the thrill. It was truly what Zeiken had lived for, for many years. Zeiken glanced over to Jexen, the second elite. He was fine. But something was wrong. Why was no one putting up a fight? It seemed all to easy. The only real challenge was getting in. Zeiken's eyes caught something above him. A bird maybe. No time to think.

"Come on, dammit! Focus" he thought to himself. He stepped up to a footman, raised his sword to eliminate the target. A seering pain prohibited him from finishing his swipe. His sword fell to the ground as he chenched his shoulder. It was an arrow, which penetrated the skin between two pieces of armor. Zeiken looked up along with the rest of the Elites. Squads of archers perched on the castle wall. They were all around the main courtyard, their bows ready to fire. Zeiken turned around to the entrance. Four warriors, sat on black horses blocked the only exit. Somehow they knew they were coming. It was a setup all along, Zeiken thought.

                Footman had gathered, surrounding the Elites.

"There is no way out. This was surely the end." Zeiken thought. Zeiken looked around to the other Elites, who were now quite close to him. Zeiken tossed his sword on the ground in front of him. The other Elites did the same, except for one.  It was Merk. Merk held his sword tightly. Zeiken motioned for his to surrender, to put his weapon down, but he did not listen. Merk began to shake a little. His knuckles turned white. he slowly opened his mouth as he raised his sword. "FOR TRILANCE!!" Merk yelled. He pushed off the ground and luged foward. Zeiken had tried to keep his mind off the inevitable.. Before Merk even reached the front line of footmen, he was pummeled by arrows. He fell to his knees. Zeiken cursed to himself. A puddle of blood formed under the body of Merk. Zeiken was surprised at the foolishness of one of his own men. Merk was the youngest and newest Elite, but still, Zeiken felt as if he had failed Merk.

                The other elites knew better. They were calm and cool as they dropped their guard. The elites looked to Zeiken, then, drawing confidence from the fact that he was not afraid. The elites were lined up to be taken to the dungeon.  Zeiken stood in the middle of the line, waiting for the opportunity to escape. The situation was grim. Their weapons rode in a cart behind them, a guard on each side. Three guards hovered back and fourth between all of the elites. Simple enough. Zeiken had realized that the Terrozians had gravely underestimated the elites.

                Zeiken, as he walked, slightly hit Zev’s foot in front of him. Zev knew not to turn around, but he understood this signal. Zev did the same to Trepe, the elite in front of him. If front of Trepe was Keizar who would play a vital role in the escape. Behind Zeiken stood Ty and Jexen, who got the message after Zeiken made a small signal with his hands, which were tied behind his back. The escape had begun.