“Oliver! Oliver!”

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The miserable wretch ran towards my throne where I was seated. I seethed at his insolence.

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“Your Highness, peasant!” I roared, correcting the impudent urchin grovelling at my feet.

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"... Your Highness. The kingdom is being attacked from the south.”

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“WHAT?!” I jumped to my feet, aghast at the audacity of the invaders. “The south? My nemesis, the Smiths' clan. Well, if it’s war they want, it’s war they’ll get.”

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“Go to the lookout. Ring the bells when they’re near the castle. I’ll prepare for battle.”

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The scout obediently ascended to the battlements while I raged to my general. “Those scoundrels think they can attack my castle?” I fumed, donning my armour and sheathing my sword. “They will pay.”

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Bells sounded. “Already?” I ran to the closest window. A tingle of dread traversed my spine as I appraised the mass of invaders. “So many?” I lamented.

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“What’re my orders, your Highness?” my general asked, looking over my shoulder.

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“My castle is impregnable. Let’s show that rabble what fear is. ARCHERS! Fire at will.”

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Arrows flew from overhead, the sight a death knell upon any enemy. I grinned in vengeful satisfaction as I watched many of the influx fall. My grin faded when I saw it barely made a dent in the hordes’ numbers.

“Reload! Fire again!” I barked. The sky darkened as another volley of arrows flew accurately, but insignificantly, at my foes.

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“We’re nearly out of arrows, Highness. Perhaps it’s time to consider surrendering?”

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I grabbed the general by the front of his uniform and pulled him threateningly close. “Never, you cowardly wretch! Release the Devil’s Beast.”

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Gasps of dread echoed off the wall. “But Highness ...”

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“DO IT!” I shouted. “Before I gut you myself.”

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The general paled, but saluted before descending to the castle’s dungeon. A blood-curdling scream reverberated from the depths. I became bereft of a general as the savage beast claimed its first victim. “A justified price after he questioned me. 'Surrender, indeed!'” I scoffed, his only deserved valediction.

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The battlefield redirected my attention as the monster charged into the throng. Screams became the dead’s dirge as teeth and claw professed their demise.

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Those who escaped the deadly affray continued the assault, leaders brandishing ladders to escalade the castle. They were soon erected against the walls.

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“Defend the castle with your lives, men!” I inspired as I drew my sword, dispatching the first assailant.

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But inevitably, the castle was infiltrated by the weight of their numbers.

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“Retreat to me!” I ordered.

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As valiantly as we fought, we were soon surrounded. It was time.

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I lay down my sword ...

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... only to grab one of the many pre-prepared buckets. “Now, men!”

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Acid drenched our foes, splashing eyes, depriving sight, and burning skin. Horror halted their advance, allowing a catalysing, frenzied retribution.

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Exhausted, I heroically dispatched the last enemy and collapsed.

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Just in time as Mum announced: “Kids, dinner time. And tie the dog back up.”

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The illusion was shattered, but at least my treehouse, my happy place, was safe once more.