“What do you think you are doing?”

Gregor had sprung to his feet as the door was cloven in two. Two hooded men stepped into the workshop. The one in front laughed gently under his breath;

“Quiet boy! We are here for the golem, we know that he has it here, watched over by you and the new apprentice. Stand aside.”

Gregor was not about to surrender, he was about to officially become a Magus. He had been ready for The Assay for almost two years, he could take them. He stared at the intruders and balled his fists, drawing power silently, hoping to use the advantage. He felt it surging into him from below; only he and Pyrellius knew how to draw on the Mana stored in the slabs of Matrocite that made the workshop’s bland looking floor. When he was ready he quickly extended his arms, hands describing the appropriate signs and screamed;

“Körper Toten Tantzen!”

The Intruder laughed and suddenly he was behind Gregor, sliding a stilletto between his ribs; Gregor could not even cry out, and dying all he could think was ‘how?’.