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Matt Hein / Fantasy / Osprey

Order of the Falcon, Part Three v1.9 Editing attempt for [Anachronistic_Skies] -4:3(1-3) Chapter Four Part Three, Act One The foreigner and the acolyte, sanctity of the venerable order. As Skye hurried out of the council room, and into the crowded ornate hallway of the palace’s east wing, she couldn’t help but feel rather nauseated at the unsettling discussion of the previous council meeting, albeit relief began to set in at the notion of fresh air. Sweet fresh air...finally! Skye thought to herself, as she navigated through slightly dense crowd of bureaucrats, bellhops, spectators and the like, past a small government cafe, only to arrive at one of the many elegant paned windows, its frames frosted partially. Situating herself upon its ledge, and brushing one of its linen curtains aside, Skye procured a small cup of coffee from a wooden serving cart to her side and sipped away at it, as she gazed off into the countryside with a sigh of relief. The background commotion fading a bit, she for once applauded the seemingly rare asset of solitude, the free moment, like a lilliputian bird, growing increasingly rare to capture. Life, to Skye, was simply a venture into such a desert of formalities, a journey that only eroded away at the patience of those whom surrounded her, and she secretly thanked herself she had not pursued a career in politicking. Youth was priceless, and for her to spoil it with formalities had to be sacrilege. It wasn’t vanity, she reassured herself, but rather self preservation. Controversy, on the other hand, she noted, should be reserved for the aged and epicuric whom had no better to do than bicker and quarrel amongst themselves, whilst they wagged their cigars about, shot billiards and engaged in monotone activities. But reserving that thought, Skye reclined against the wide of the window opening and sipped away at her coffee, her eyes closed and body relaxed as the morning sun crept upon her. But so quickly had she captured solitude, it flew from her grasp, at the call of a young bellhop, whom spied her amongst the ledge, as he tipped his hat. “Young lady? Ma’am? My apologies, but I couldn’t help seeing you recline against that ledge...it’s awfully dangerous, and...well, it would be a shame to see you plunge from it...” As Skye sat up, placed her saucer to the side of the cart and curtly flashed a bitter stare at him, as she jumped down from the ledge. “Well, that was rather...courteous...” He spoke, resuming his duties of lugging about a supply crate, as Skye rubbed her eyes and approached the cafe to procure her some breakfast. Still rather distraught over missing the entree served the night prior, Skye seated herself upon one of the oak chairs of the cafe and reclined backwards, running her hands through her hair. Never before, had she been so tired or hungry to actually purchase a meal for herself, grown accustomed since an early age at the constant attention of servants. Such an experience was so new to her, she was unsure as to the odd slip of paper which lie before her, a menu she thought, but still remained rather unsure. Whatever it was, she flipped through it, chose a rather large meal, Rice Curry and Kaiyua, a salted meat, and set the menu to the linen tabletop, sipping once again from the grail of water. As she sat at the table by her lonesome, she overhead a small group of bureaucrats speak at the table to her rear, one of them joking about as he sipped some wine, another reading an editorial from the newspaper. “Would you believe this? The republic is considering placing additional hours of mandatory duty on conscripts, without the benefit of wages!” “That’s rather imprudent...the last I checked, our infantry were the most loyal to the republic...can’t they divert the funds form elsewhere? The government should have some sort of rainy day fund.” “Every Lucre the state had went into honoring reparations payments from the Gariland wars...and Dragonia still has not honored our pleas for financial assistance.” “Well, there goes our military nest egg...the goose that laid it was slain.” “‘Tis a shame really...the next we hear, they’ll further garner our wages!” “Would you cease being so selfish! Look at the resident, the industrialist...they’re being forced to work a week for bare amenities, and that rarely even involves oil or feed costs.” As one of the bureaucrats set the paper to the tablecloth and sipped from his glass, one of the others glanced towards Skye, first with interest, next with surprise, as he motioned towards his comrades, speaking in a rather hushed tone. “Sir? Is that Skye? Miss Rinehart, the daughter of the former Sensei of LaGuardia?” As one of the bureaucrats adjusted his glasses as Skye sank further into her chair, he spoke. “Why yes, I believe she is.” The man with the newspaper spoke, as the bureaucrat opposite him sipped some wine, only the receive a command. “Well, don’t just sit there! Be formal and give courtesy to invite her to our table, already!” “Miss, excuse me...” He spoke in a cool tone, as Skye turned around to meet his calm eyes and face. “Why are you seated by yourself? We have an empty chair at our table, and I would be most graced for you to join us.” He spoke, only to receive no acceptance from Skye. “Sir...I don’t intend to be rude, but I would rather not for the moment. I...have some pressing issues which I must deal with on my own.” She spoke, only to meet the rather disappointed expression of the bureaucrat, whom acknowledged her request. “Very well...if you decide to change your mind, there is an empty chair for you...” As she gazed off into the distance of the great hall, the crowd no smaller than ten minutes to her prior, she felt a tapping sensation to her shoulder, and a deep ahem!, turning to see a finely tailored waiter stand to her side, assiduously holding a ledger and pen. “Miss, are you prepared to order?” “Of course...” Skye spoke, as she nervously flipped through the menu, speaking. “I guess I’ll have some of the Rice Curry...and the Kaiyua...a medium order, if you will.” “That’s all you’ll have to order then, miss?” He asked, as he scribbled into his ledger, Skye nodding. And with that, the waiter walked off to accommodate another group of patrons, whom arrived and took a seat at one of the oak tables as well, Dash sighing in relief. That wasn’t as bad as I anticipated... She thought to herself, as she once again took a sip of resreshing spring water and reclined in the chair, closing her eyes. The commotion around her slighly intensified from just a few moments ago, she could now hear the crackling of ice, the clattering of plates in kitchen, and from the hardwood liquor bar to the side of the cafe, the tapping of frothy ale from the spouts of kegs. Skye had never tried ale, not once in her life, and even casual liquor she made a point to eschew, but beckoned by her hunger and thirst she felt a sudden longing for it. Maybe just this one time, just a small spot of ale...it wouldn’t do me any harm... She thought reassuringly, as she approached the bar, the glare from the oil lamps casting the spectrum of bottles and tonics with an illumination of curiosity. Her arms now rested about polished surface of the bar, she motioned for the bartender, a largely built and smartly tailored man with a moustache, to approach, as she discreetly pressed into his hands, a small bronze coin while making her request. And so quickly did she ask, the man procured a small goblet and poured the frothy mixture into her glass, Skye herself surprised to see the foam overflow as the man wiped it away with a napkin. She didn’t ask for much, but instead received a generous share. Nonetheless, she took the cold goblet back to her table and looked into it with interest, the mysterious foam ceasing to subside, as the smell of hops seemed strongly present about it. Nonetheless, she lifted the goblet, and took a rather large swig of the mixture, its taste rather bitter, yet satisfying, as she swallowed it in one attempt. Wiping her mouth with the napkin, she took another sip, downing the mixture, then another swig to finish it off, lowering the goblet to the table, satisfied, although she still felt rather hungry. The thought of thoroughly cooked rice and salted meat didn’t sound so bad after all...actually appealing to her, although she was so used to parfait, fish and other delicacies of the sort. Nonetheless, she was surprised to see a familiar figure walk through the hall, as she called to him. “Dash? Dash Dracon!” “Hmm? Oh...it’s you again, Skye...” Approaching from the crowd, his bandanna still ruffling from the window’s breeze, and his fiery gold eyes commanding, Dash set his sheathed sword atop the table and took a seat next to her, visibly fatigued. He seemed rather distracted to her, his eyes pained, eyelids possibly heavy from enduring hours of boring and poorly engaging discussion, or perhaps he had ventured off into the countryside for some unknown reason. Perchance there were some briefings and the like? Attempting not to be rude, she decided not to question him, striking a conversation instead. “What a surprise…I see you grew tired of these formalities as well…what brings you here?” She asked. “What do you think, Skye? The council meeting was a culmination of nonsense. I’ve been more entertained counting leaves of grass. It seems the Feyrians have perfected the art of austerity...one I’d rather not dabble in.” Dash spoke, as he reclined against the chair, sighing, as he asked Skye a question. “That grail beside you...I’d like a sip of that...” Handing him the empty glass, Dash could sense the smell of ale, visibly surprised. “You’re taking an escape as well, I surmise?” “OF course, Dash...as of recent...I’ve been so greatly preoccupied with formalities...and yet, I just wish to escape for once, to set to the countryside...I guess this is the farthest I can get. Dash, I really wanted to speak with you…about recent events and us of course. For you see…” “I really don’t feel like talking right now, Skye…” Dash replied somewhat succinctly, as he closed his eyes and crossed his arms. “Hmm…I see you’re petulant. Are you feeling right?” “Of course...I took a sip of whiskey earlier...but my headache won’t subside. Skye, all of this diplomacy is giving my unease. If your intentions are to discuss such formalities, I’ll have no part in it.” Dash stated, as Skye looked back towards him. “Dash, I had no intention whatsoever to discuss acrimonious politicking...in fact, I abhor it...why should I sit encompassed by bitter bureaucrats and laureates, I ask? Why can’t men work the fields and discuss such issues at the same time?” “That’s an interesting sentiment, Skye...but it’s not a possibility at all, history tells us otherwise.” “Then what to discuss, hmm; the weather? How last week the mercantile district mysterious lost a vessel? The placing of an interim leader besides Ludan...it’s absurd if you ask me, completely saddening.” “No…any competent military nation would follow this same path. Perchance he wasn’t following through with his duties of office? That’s reason enough for a replacement.” “What a terrible statement! Dash, do you not realize the extent of such action? Aren’t you listening?” Skye asked, as she glanced over towards Dash, the swordsman rather pensive. “I’m listening Skye, but I’m reflecting as well.” He remarked without much thought, looking towards her. “Hah...that’s a likely excuse...no really, what’s on your mind, Dash? Seriously, I wish to know...” “There’s a reason behind every action...the insightful contemplate it whilst the impulsive rant.” “And what exactly does that signify for me?” “Well, I think first off, you need to adjust your priorities. You want Ludan to achieve his rightful place? Complaining to me about the ‘injustice’ of these actions will serve little to help you.” “What? How arrogant of you to say that! How is this supposed to help me? You’re far too proud for your own good, Dash!” “Heh, you really take this to heart, don’t you? You asked me what was on my mind, and I answered. There, you got what you wished for...are you happy now, Skye?” Dash asked, as he took a sip of crystal clear water and eyed her. “That’s not the most promising statement....” “I’ll be honest, though. If you continue to worry about your possessions in society, you’re bound for disappointment.” “Oh, that’s very encouraging, Dash. So, according to your logic, I’m supposed to drop everything I own and walk into the wilderness?” “No, I never said that. you very well could if you wanted...become an insurgent or a pacifist.” “Then what are you trying to say?” She asked, rather persistently, looking at him rather perplexed. “Step back for a moment, Skye and look towards the horizon. What do you see?” Dash asked, as Skye gave him a rather questionable look, only to oblige, speaking. “I see the azure sky, the clouds...what about it?” “You know what I see, Skye? I perceive endless, boundless possibilities this world. We could truly achieve greatness, but time and time again, our own arrogance and fallacy serves to hold it away from ourselves. We allow our ambition and avarice to cloud this sky...this cloud kills most of our dreams because we are bound by primitive instinct at times.” Dash spoke as Skye looked towards him, surprised in a manner. “Hmmph...Ah, I see! Even the ever venerable Dash has dreams! I knew it! So, you’re not as apathetic as I thought...” Skye spoke with a tone of interest, as she crossed her arms, looking at the swordsman. “For some odd reason, I’m not surprised you stated that...” He spoke, as Skye seemed somewhat distracted. “Is Professor Aston correct that you’re against us?” Skye asked inquisitively, as she crossed her arms, looking towards the swordsman. “My, my…are you really so shrewd so as to distrust me. I find it rather laughable you would perceive me as a spy.” The swordsman spoke, as he reclined in his chair, looking away from her. “Look, I’m not exactly sure in which allegiance you have pledged. In fact, do you even at least support Ludan’s administration?” “Ludan stands for some rather unsettling prospects…In fact, I find it rather difficult to discern between the aggressor and protagonist. For the moment, I’m equivocal with him...but I don’t trust Jade’s forces either... it’s an uncertain situation, I guess. Uncertainty breeds fear, that’s why I wish to leave this forsaken place. By tomorrow, I plan to leave.” “Hah...free like a bird, aren’t you? You can just go about making your own choices regardless of the consequential action of nobles...how I wish I had it as ‘easily’ as you, Dash.” “You truly believe I have it easy? Open your eyes, Skye! In the political backrooms, I’m probably constantly revered as a prophet, a savior to the people, a hope for the future. At times, some lionize my standing as though I were a saint, and yet others despise me so greatly... I’m probably the cause of the rift, or the division between Jade and Ludan.” He spoke, as he faced Skye, eyeing her glass of water and taking a rather large swig of it, as Skye spoke. “Yes, Dash...it must be truly difficult to wear borrowed robes...do they weigh upon the conscience, or produce comfort? I’ll surmise the latter.” “Sheesh, Skye; that was not exactly the most insightful comment I’ve heard from the nobility. So, I’m guessing wearing a tiara and eating out of a silver platter is a grueling task, hmm? Or is the exhibition of arrogance a day’s work to you, a slight burden on the shoulder?” “How insulting, Dash, but clever, I must admit. You’re a man of words, are you not? Why don’t you enter the politicking business? I hear some politicians have a penchant for witty insults and irrational behavior? I’m sure you’ll fit in perfectly well with them.” “I’d rather not...it’s such a controversial business on its own, and I’m sure many of those men have quite a bit of dirt and dried blood hidden under their rugs. Trust me, I know from experience.” “You were a politician in your time, were you not? It seems fitting to your character.” Skye spoke, rather suggestively, as she took a sip from her goblet with candor. “Of course not, Skye...as a member of the syndicate, I was banned from identifying myself in the public eye as a dignitary of the government. In the mind of the public I was nonexistent...” “Then what were you?” “I would rather not say at the moment...this matter does not concern you anyhow.” “Dash...I want the truth from you instead of this abstruse nonsense! Why can we not communicate to each other effectively, Dash? Or am I misinterpreting you?” “Perchance...but for the moment, let’s carry our conversation elsewhere. I was considering life in general...how are you feeling at the moment, Skye?” “Well, it’s an irrelevant start, but I’ll comment anyhow... Dash, I’m feeling rather downtrodden...my uncle was fired from his position, I was forced to abandon a meeting, a war is impending...Akael, it’s frustrating.” Skye spoke, as she turned away from him at the sound of the beckoning voice of the server, as he now stood before her with a silver dish atop one hand and the same scrawled parchment ledger in between the other. Smelling the alluring and salty scent of the Kaiyua waft about the air, arousing her senses, Skye grew further anticipated to tear into her meal with instinct, although when the entree was set affront of her, she simply plucked several bronze coins from her satchel and pressed them into the server’s hand after he refilled her goblet with some crystal water from a nearby table. “Will that be all for you today, Miss?” “That should be all, thank you...” Skye replied, as the man handed her some silverware and beckoned her to enjoy her meal. Picking up his ledger, he continued to another table adjacent to them, as he talked to the leader of their party. “I haven’t eaten in at least two moons...” Skye spoke, digging into the meat with even and accurate slices, as she doused it in a thickly peppered wine scented sauce, eating it rather ravenously. “Hmm...looks appealing...” Dash spoke, as Skye dissented, taking a sip of the water. “It’s purely awful, really...” She spoke, taking a rather larger scoop of rice and meat, chewing it. “...but it serves to satisfy...in public legend, Kaiyua was originally a staple of the military groups of the early eighth century, primary from the Bediaun Desert. They were forced for weeks of travel in the scalding sun, so one suggested supplementing their packs with meat and rice, since they held water nicely.” Skye spoke to him rather informatively, as she once again poured a generous portion of sauce over the meat, chewing and swallowing it hastily. “That would explain its awful taste? Or are you simply hoarding it to yourself?” “No...I’m just famished...here...why don’t you take a slice for yourself and see, hmm?” She asked him, as Dash procured a slice of the medium thick meat and chewed into it. “Aaahk! God...this is awful...it’s purely laden with salt!” “Hence the pepper wine sauce?” Skye asked, as she began to laugh at him lightly, offering him a sip of water as Dash kindly accepted. Finishing the sample, Dash pulled out a chair from beside her and reclined, looking about the cafe with interest. “I wouldn’t say it’s that horribly, though...it does have a memorable aftertaste, I must say.” He spoke, as Skye ravenously finished the meat portion, digging into the rice. “Whoa...slow down there...we’re not in a rush...” “Like Ludan’s Banquet? I was really looking forward to his Gunfish entree, as well. Of course, sudden interruptions have became so commonplace as of late...” “I see...about this war, about Ludan’s removal, Skye?” “It’s disheartening, really...I just want for once for everything to stop in place, for politics to take a prolonged rest. I feel awful at the moment...not even fulfilled hunger satisfies any longer...” “What would then? Passion? Vengeance?” “Maybe both...look, Dash, I appreciate your concern, but I really feel that you’ll be of no aid to me in the course of events.” “And what exactly is your basis to state that?” Skye never bothered to answer, as she stood up, ran her hands through her hair, then pushed in her chair. “I cannot leave all as is now...If I renounce my affiliations with the state or go against the system, everything will be thrown askew. Scorpio, Kimiahn, Argent, you...you’ll all be affected in some repercussive way.” “You don’t want my help? Or is comfort termed interference?” “No...” Skye spoke, as she walked away from him, only to turn around. “Formally...I really don’t know you...and I probably don’t want to either. You’re a foreigner, and I’m...well, to term it nicely, higher in rank. We just can’t associate.” “So, that’s finality, then? You’re just going to turn away friendship with so much as little regard?” He asked, as e crossed his arms, eyeing her oddly. “Look, Dash...” Skye replied, as she took a small feather from her hair and handed it to him. “I don’t mean any personal pain to you, I’m honest. It’s just...well, we’re on a rather rocky basis relation-wise. Anyhow, I want to give you this as a token of my faith in you as a trustworthy friend. But now...I just don’t feel like getting into something I’ll regret in my later years.” She spoke, as Dash procured the azure blue feather with streaks of salty white, placing it in a notch within his armor. “I hope you understand, Dash...it’s not that I dislike you... it’s just that...well...we’re too different from each other. We have separate interests at heart.” She spoke, as she backed away from him. “Skye...” He spoke, as the lady disappeared into the hall, swift and quiet as a hawk, as an unexpected thought ran across him, arousing some interest. ...the flapping of a birds wings spell impending fatigue… spiritual imbalance leads to perdition… Pushing in his chair as well, Dash took another sip of the crystal water, sheathed his sword and closed his eyes as he thought to himself in silence. “So...she left you still in the dark, eh?” A voice called to his back, as Dash turned to see one of the bureaucrats look towards him. “I wouldn’t mind it...for as long as I’ve remembered, Ludan has been the same way. Out of the meeting room, he’s rather quiet and pensive at times.” “Do you have any idea as to why?” Dash asked, as the man offered him a glass of wine and a chair. “Over the last few years, Faiye has...gone through some crisis, although I don’t care to elaborate. I’m sure you probably already know anyhow.” “Actually, I have received no official briefings on that matter, aside from random and somewhat useless information. What do you currently have?” “Look...I don’t want to get into specifics, but let’s just say insurrection may be a factor. As of now, the situation lies in distrust and uncertainty.” “Hmm...why then, does Ludan not address this?” “He has...but only with a few of his inner circle. Of course, I happen to be one of his entourage...the name’s Selleck.” “Officer Dash Dracon...” Dash replied, as the man took another sip of his wine, then looked at him oddly. “You’re not that deacon, are you...the man of the hour?” He asked, as Dash suddenly grew rather uneasy, setting his glass to the table, darting a glance towards the man with suspicion. “Why do you wish to know this anyhow?” He demanded, as the man remained focused. “Believe me...I just want to give you fair warning before anything strikes. High profile officials have a tendency to disappear in the blink of an eye when discord erupts.” “Odd enough, the last twelve hours, I’ve heard nothing but complaints of war, and no action to back up such claims. Where is this ‘rebellion and betrayal’ that continues to resurface in the political tide?” “Honestly, I can’t say...” Selleck replied, as he handed Dash a glass of ale, lighting up a cigar and offering him one. “The times are pretty stressful for me...I have a wife and child to feed overseas and here Ludan goes to hold back my payroll once again.” Selleck remarked, as he took a small cigar from the tray before him, cut its tip off and lit it with the candle. “You look like you could use a smoke...hell, just about anyone here could at the moment...” He laughed, offering Dash one. “Nah...I’m not in the mood for one...I’m still angered over Skye...sheesh, she’s really high priority...” “I remember her as a young girl...” Selleck started, as he drew in a deep breath from his cigar, exhaled and took a rather large swig of his ale. “Yeah; always at the top of her priorities, she was very studious and diligent. Whenever she had a free moment she was always immersed in books and theory. Odd, you know, she had so much potential to be a valid politician, and she just forsake that venue...” “Perchance there’s a convincing reason...I mean, politicking is historically nothing more than backroom dealing and bluffing tactics.” “Maybe so, maybe not...” Selleck replied, as Dash drank the ale rather quickly, setting his grail to the table with a metallic ring. Proceeding to stand up, he heard Selleck call to him. “Well, it’s nice to know you’re not this ‘monster’ some ascribe you to being, Dash. It was a pleasure meeting you and I wish you luck...” “And I wish you equal fortune as well, sir.” He replied, as he rushed off hurriedly to catch up with Skye. As he stepped adjacent to the small senatorial busts aside the office door, Dash cast a glance towards them, almost surprised to notice their wavy hair covered with patina. Perhaps to him, this style represented philosophical oppression of the past, or perhaps the tide of animosity they had prevailed against in the earlier days of the government. Whatever the cause, Dash sheathed his sword of chrysalis, and looked towards the garden again, a sense of resolve about his eyes, as he stood there, pensive and reserved. Chapter Four Part Three, Act 2 As he stood above the bustling region of the republic Faiye from his rooftop perch atop the palace, Ludan sighed a breath of relief, on escapade from his military council, as he rested against one of the intricately carved ivory railings. Looking somewhat longingly towards the horizon ahead, the city itself sporadically scattered about the pastures and emerald fields. The fine azure lake and forest before him, Ludan noticed several birds fly madly past him, as they scattered into the distance, storm clouds strongly evident. Perhaps, to him, this cloud resembled some sort of a harbinger to the turmoil which lie ahead for his now defunct military council, the inherent shock, of which felt like the interjection of an anarchic serpent’s venomous strike to the heart. Even the palace itself, though completely imposing, seemed to manifest the impending conflict as its towers and turrets stood nearly piercing the clouds ahead. The sloping, steep roofs and projecting glass paned windows a fine testimony to the intricate work of its artisans, and Ludan’s inherent architectural genius in its design, seemed to reflect upon him now. Even though residing in such a perch, he still felt rather vulnerable, although he could not tell exactly from what. From the nearly endless ocean and harbour of Faiye to his south, he could now survey the peninsula as completely developed and towering city of Victorian influence. And to his north, within the fields and pastures of the republic, development seemed scattered and unrefined, although impressive for only twenty years of expansion. The town square already assimilated with soldiers, and the military academy of the republic astute with all of its glory, it sat surrounded by its modest city of mercantile and provisional embassies. The cool breeze coasting overhead him from the seas, blowing about his now grayed hair and black suit, sending his tie ruffling in its respective direction, Ludan could only help but assume when Jade’s forces would launch a strike, if any. However, for now, he demanded a certain degree of serenity, no matter its respective cost…for a moment, at least… “A moment of peace...to think I took my free time for granted when I was younger...” He thought to himself, no sooner to hear a voice to his rear. “Ludan Lockeheed…pleasure meeting you here. One would believe you would take the honor upon himself to direct the military, no?” A particularly odd voice spoke, as he looked over to see Sergei Iganov, donned in imperial robes and epaulet, somehow like that of a serpent. His emerald green eyes and young face seemed deceiving in their nature, yet in a certain stance, harmonious with the senatorial theatre. Even his brimmed onyx militant cap and black tailored suit blowing about the breeze, flaunting several pinned bronze militancy badges, complimented with the imperial crest of the falcon. His complimentary military advisors stood astute and ready at orders, as Ludan spoke from his position. “Sergei Iganov…what brings you to my humble retreat, I dare ask?” “Terminate the formalities, former president Ludan…I must seek counsel with you concerning our grave and impending military conflict…” The president spoke with a soundly shadowy tone in his voice, approaching Ludan near the railing, each step from his leather shoes casting a resonance about the air around him. “And these matters concern, Sergei? Interesting, I must say, that the now president-elect should turn to his previous superior to seek advice. If you claim to demonstrate competency beyond my authority, why then, should you summon me for counsel?” He asked with a certain tone of inquisitiveness, the now president-elect eyeing him, perplexed at Ludan’s sudden air of righteousness. “How dare you address your superiors as those of an ancillary, former president…do you not find completely intriguing that a man such as me, a commoner even, could fancy such aspirations as the presidency of Faiye, and yet somehow attain leadership?” Sergei spoke, as he continued. “How ironic, you the very reflection of corruption should be thrown to those wolves of disparity, at the hands of a so called ‘lower’ class?” Sergei remarked with a particularly vehement stance, as he eyed Ludan and laughed hideously. “Very well, Sergei…I find it rather laughable you would attack me just so. So, you really believe that a society without class could flourish?” Ludan spoke harshly, as he eyed Sergei, continuing his statement, “Also, in comparison to the truth, I find that statement rather falsified. An anarchist state would never function in reality. Open your eyes to reality, Sergei!” He spoke, several of Sergei’s militant advisors looked towards the president, for a somewhat witty retort, on his part. “Heh…you still have the old virtue of chicanery about you, eh, Ludan…Akael knows the countless years I have toiled endlessly within the political machine, forced about the subordinate tasks of an administrator, fixing profit margins appropriating military funds, forced to exploit my fellow countrymen in the name of the government! And now, given this state of affairs…I will proliferate change…a new beginning …an order for the people…the Order of the Snake…” And with that enunciation, Ludan turned from his rooftop perch with a tinge of outright surprise, as he arrived to face Sergei, eyeing defensively. Resting his hands atop the hilt of his saber, the now president-elect darted his eyes towards his quick movement rather quickly. Surely, Ludan thought, he was contemplating something, being such a dogged figure. “What a harrowing thought you would err from the very ways in which you speak Do you not realize the true aspirations of this so called ‘Order’? Jade’s deceptive reasoning only serves to demean the credibility his own government! I urge you not to take heed to his propaganda, Sergei, for I, and the common people, shall not have part in it…” “You claim to speak for the citizenry, however, in reality, only act in a manner of hypocrisy, a figurehead to your dogmatic noble order…” Sergei spoke, as he drew his sword. “Your venomous ways must arrive to an end, Ludan! I can no longer continue to see my people shed tears of grief at the sight of your propaganda! The guard of past grievances shall be borne anew, and resuscitate the common interests of the voice of the citizen!” “How audacious of you to replace your very leader by a means of violence Sergei! I possessed higher expectations for a man of your stature! However, alas…if one is to resort to chicanery and bastardized policy for so called ‘justification’ then I remain with little choice however, then to retaliate these false statements.” Ludan spoke, as he drew forth his saber, a small, and finely ornamented rapier. Scowling at Sergei, the senator followed suit. “I should have done away with you years ago, Ludan…it is an evident pity I thought otherwise. However, alas…fate allots serpents to slither about noble republics, to strike at those tryannous souls with their vehemence. Liberation for my people shall finally arrive at last…as I shall drive this venom away, inciting a purely antidotal nation!” “Ha, you really believe your actions will incite power? Does my death really mean anything? Will your respective actions yield authority? How very disingenuous, you know, in fact, upon receipt of hierarchy, your seat of power will be ousted by Jade, or some other ambitious leader. We need stability now... I can provide that.” “Heh…still the ever insistent mediator as always, aren’t you, Ludan? If I recall correctly, your acquaintance, Rinehart died a similar death due to his beliefs? He wanted stability and peace, but received the latter through assassination. “You disgust me, Sergei...I’d rather shoot myself than watch you ascertain leadership.” “Are you willing to lean to martyrdom to gather your people? If you were to happen to die, I would not expect one single lass to shed a tear in grief at your loss! You are despised by your people for your ignorance! Men will trample over your tomb and desecrate it...” Sergei clamored, his eyes locked in resilience. “Of course, you’ll be six feet under...it won’t matter to you...” He shouted, lunging forth with his rapier drawn towards Ludan, as he jumped to the side, only to have both swords contact in a burst of sparks, himself holding his will against Sergei’s attack, each tenaciously guarding steed against that of the opposition as both military aides looking towards the president -elect in outright surprise. “You traitorous dog!” Sergei shouted as Ludan once again blocked his attack, and edged towards the overhead railing, his eyes filled with resolve. Fending yet another strike, a brilliant array of golden sparks flying forth towards the brisk breeze, from the edge of his damascene blade. “You realize…even if victorious, your people will launch a vendetta against your interests, Sergei…” Ludan replied, as he leaped to the side, slashing Sergei through his robes, the president-elect, his face suddenly thrown into a stance of surprise flying backwards to the reflective grey marble tiles. With great stamina, he gained a steady recovery quite quickly, as he readied his saber, and flew forth towards him, once again, both blades clashing, as they engaged in a furious trade of fencing maneuvers the resultant flashing vermillion sparks cascading about the gusty, cool evening wind. “Ah, how meritorious and gentlemanly of you, to launch a barrage of unorthodox fencing moves…I assumed you would still possess righteous honor…very well…” The president-elect, Sergei spoke, as he lifted his rapier swinging the blade towards Ludan’s torso with intrinsic speed, as the president guarded the attack with a sudden diagonal cut, sending yet another plume of sparks about the emerald foliage planted about the railing, as they diffused into the oblivion of the wind. “And equally fallible of yourself, Sergei, to lack the faith to declare a rightful match...how dishonorable and rather errant, I must say…” Ludan replied, as he lunged forth his blade once again, Sergei hopping backwards, blocking several additional swings as well, the echo of his blade resonating about the balcony, as he raised his rapier once again, and dashed forth for an abdominal attack. With swiftness, he swung the rapier steadily, as Ludan performed a backwards flip, landing stealthily beside Sergei, as he lifted his blade to counter the attack, parrying it with a backwards swing, as he regained his defensive stance. “How interesting…I see you have attained much prowess in the arts of swordsmanship! I pity your mentor for the lack of honor to train you!” The president-elect spoke with a particularly questionable tone, as he defended yet another lunge, blocking it, then dashing forward once again, a telltale sight of outright abhorrence glaring throughout his now fiery eyes. As his imperial robes ruffled about the wind, the blood from his torso wound already deftly prevalent, and his hair badly unkempt, Sergei eyes Ludan with a venemous askance yet, with a tone of outright arrogance, both military advisors ready at guard, as they slowly approached the president-elect, a sense of caution about them. “Sire, regarding your intelligence council? I believe it would fall within your most efficient interests to…” “This is not a time to commence formalities!!!” He spoke harshly, defending yet another swift strike from Ludan, as he dashed forth with his rapier parrying yet another attack, striking Ludan’s blade with yet another resultant spray of brilliant arborous sparks, once again, another exchange of fencing maneuvers. Ludan, himself, tenaciously eyeing Sergei for another possible attack, nearly landed an attack towards the president-elect’s abdomen, Sergei quelling it with great steed, as ne nearly overpowered his rapier, both swordsmen now locked in a steady draw, as Ludan thought with desperation the manner in which he would remain victorious. His allegiant council member eyed him darkly and began to speak in a subtle, yet apprehensive tone. “I see we’re equally matched, quite an infallible prospect, nonetheless, it is true. I propose we declare this a draw, and arrive at a compromise…we’re both civilized gentlemen, now, aren’t we?” The president-elect spoke, as he set his saber to the ground, stepping backwards, as several of his military advisors cast him a glance of suspicion, Ludan himself on the defensive. “Sergei? Why now terminate this match? Do you plan to resort to deception to fulfill your so called vindictive causes? If so, dishonor only leads to perdition, I say! Nonetheless, I shan’t fall for such deceptive practices…” “Heh…how a sly fox you are…I see you’re quite an experienced fighter, surprising for a political leader. But your trust is ill placed. That’s fine with me...perhaps I should demonstrate to you, the true qualities of a leader?” Sergei spoke, as he began to gather a luminous white aura about him, his eyes closing, and his sword sheathed, the resonating light itself, beginning to pulsate. As the wind and atmosphere about him drew silent and still, small birds from the garden below flapped about madly from their perches, and Ludan shielded his eyes, his rapier in hand, as the radiance beckoned him ever closer in proximity. “I’ll simply take the Shard, then...this is my only venue...” “Sergei!” Ludan shouted. “No, I’m not going to listen to your incessant mediation! The shard remains my only choice for just ‘redemption’! And this, its energy is truly magnificent. How would you like to know father Rinehart abused its aura as well?” “I fail to believe that! Can you not see your erroneous ways? Foreign sorcery goes against every provision within the charter of Kai Ne’hr! Please, we can arrive at a compromise!” “And you believe I would place my trust within such irrelevancies…the order of the Kai Ne’hr is no less than that of a tyrannous following, its dogmatic ways dedicated within every aspect and form, to convey upon their people strictly imposed boundaries of spirituality! The common man must remain enlightened, if we are to prosper…for the traditional guard equates oppression…the Chrysalis in my hand remains key our integral future, Ludan…and I for one, aspire to attain this spiritual apogee!” Sergei spoke, pulling from his satchel, a small onyx stone taking it into hand, its outer shell pulsating with ruby light somewhat in similarity to that of the evening sky. As his hair ruffled backwards from the epicenter of the crystal’s gusty aura, the entire balcony now seemed luminous with an angelic light, as arcing electrical bolts and streams of intense light channeled ever closer towards him as they manifested about the stone in his hand, Sergei himself drawing forth such magnificent energy. “Yyaron isshen ah’lyere…koreii ntuu rre’iin…” Sergei recited, his aura already levitating above the balcony, his now shorn robes and tailored suit blown backwards from the radiant energy he harnessed within the chrysalis. “Great Dragon Lord, Akael Me’Han! Grant me your wisdom; your integrity and radiance…embody me with holy power, that which repulses the infidel, the acrimonious!!!” He shouted, as he continued to harness forth the ever growing power of the stone, electrical impulses and waves of energy shooting forth from his armor, several striking the balcony as they tore away at the glazed ivory, sending several gleaming fragments into the wind and at the president as he shielded his eyes with his robe sleeve. “Ah, Ludan…ever diligent as always. You always remained the final opposition…ever the brooding speaker, aren’t you?…” “Saddening, Sergei. I find it rather laughable you would bother to resort to sorcery to achieve your means! You believe you would make for an ideal warrior? Completely lacking of honor, you possess little potential for success…” Ludan spoke, as Sergei replied with rancor. “Honor? There is no inherent meaning to honor…that and your so called ‘perseverance’…Don’t you find it quite cliché, man would cling to such fickle principle?” “Yes, this and the common fact honor constitutes revolution against that of the common citizenry, to conduct obligations with candor and fidelity? What inherent nonsense for man such as yourself to endorse such pointless opine so wholeheartedly!” Sergei spoke from his nearly avian stance, looking towards Ludan, as his levitation wore off, himself brandishing newfound prowess. His wounds healed and aura fading, he stepped arrogantly towards the former president flaunting a look of superiority at him. As his imperialized robes ruffled about the cool evening breeze, Sergei readied his streamlined blade, its inlaid artisan’s blade now pulsating with a tenuous fiery aura. “From this point forth, all formalities will be vanquished… and upon this fertile soil, a new era shall arise as the rising morning sun! Ready yourself, knave!” He shouted in complete vehemence, lunging forth once again with his fiery saber, Ludan swinging forth his blade with several brilliant fencing stratagems, each defending swing stemming forth sprays and gusts of sparks, as from the attacks, Ludan’s eyes grew heavy from impending fatigue. Still assiduously eyeing him for a tactical weakness, as the president-elect swung at him in Fury, Ludan dove to his side, as he regained his footing, blocking the attack with resonance. “For such an acclaimed swordsman, ‘tis surprising fatigue would stymie you in such a manner…perchance you lack proper aspirations for victory?” “Rather ironic, I might say, you claim to represent the order of the snake, yet at a similar instance, pledge to drive away such venomous clause? And you call me a hypocrite! Jade endorses hierarchy and oppression as well, and you know it! Why do you continue to live a lie? If you hate such policy, why represent it?” Ludan asked, as he countered yet another lunge, suppressing several offensive maneuvers as with a subconsciously calculating instinct, Sergei’s attack threw him back towards the railing. Once again, he now found himself pinned between the shores of perdition and resent. Both swordsmen’s blades readied, once again locked, the aggressor eyeing the president with satisfaction, as Ludan looked ahead, his amber eyes filled with resolve, closing his eyes, Sergei speaking towards him, his now reptilian eyes focused, themselves forsworn in a deluge of abhorrence. Readying his saber, its hilted blade streamlined at Ludan’s torso, his blade focused on a vital point of Sergei as well, themselves both locked in a defensive stance, the cool breeze coasting above them. The wind ruffling about Ludan’s hair and Sergei’s imperial robes, his environs still serene, the president spoke with chicanery. “Ah…as fate allots, I myself must take sword in hand against the serpent at heart. For if I were to scatter about his ashes in the vermouth wind, few would be truely bereft!” “And the vitriol fangs of the serpent can lash out against those whom tread upon his ashes…” Ludan countered without inherent notice, sprang forth bursting free from his environs, as he lunged towards Sergei and thrust the blade into his body, piercing through his imperial robes. As his opponent doubled over in a cringe, his eyes emerged bitter and his teeth gritted in hatred as the onyx stone flew forth from his grasp, tapping to the reflective marble. Its aura fading as Sergei’s saber clattered to the ground as well, with a defiant look, he sneered at Ludan and knelt to the ground, eyes closed and sword sheathed, as he spoke. “Ludan…” “Sergei? Why? Why would I take into my personal capacity, the audacity to kill one of my consorts…” Ludan asked, as Sergei eyed him with all of his inherent strength, attempting to regain his formerly proud stance. Still cringing as he spoke once again with intemperate pain, he held his weight against his cold and nearly shattered blade.. “Serpent…why did I even bother…your venom …will only serve to corrupt future generations …you claim benevolence…yet proliferate grievance …and without my honor, I lie bereft…” He spoke, his hands trembling, as he clasped his wound in deftly resilient agony collapsing to the ground, Ludan regaining his strength, as the tropical birds flew overhead from the garden below. Singing perhaps a song and a promise the president would never break, himself for that subtle moment, looking towards the still pale diaphanous evening sky, with a sense of longing, yet puissant resolve about his amber eyes. Sheathing his sword, the epitaph of Sergei seemed yet a passing memory of Ludan’s progressive exploits, and the order of the snake. “Skye…forgive me…for my arrogance as well…I have brought upon my people much dishonor…and yet, how is it entirely possible I could arrive at such an antithesis in ideals, allowing further animosity towards colleague Rinehart to flare about my soul…perhaps you were correct…my kin…” Chapter Four Part Three, Act 3 Standing on watch, Frederik Poyle surveyed his environs with deft assiduousness, his eyes tired, however ardent, as he sat atop the leather saddle of his raptor. A noble and elegant beast, the raptors horns say guarded in sheathes of brilliant silver, its scales armored with the imperial crest of Faiye, looking forth with its intelligible reptilian eyes, as Poyle set his watching glass into his satchel, rapier ready in hand, looking towards his side. Sir Dash and Kimiahn beside him, Scorpio, Skye and Argent themselves ready, a the massive civilian and noble army of Faiye stood wait in the fields and outer domiciles below, a faint, yet aqueous and misty breeze cascading about the foliage and native grasses before them/ Even the civil vicinage of the palace already profusely barracked, minutemen and infantry ready at arms, as General Beaumont and Professor Aston sat mounted atop their respective raptors, Ludan himself positioned affront his men with his saber in hand as he donned his signature militant suit and brimmed onyx cap. His raptor, a winged and gentle beast, sat atop the knolls of Wingate an eyed the region before him tenaciously with a venerable stance, its reptilian wings spread outwards, and streamlined talons adorned with gold and crystal. Men at arms, archers and hunters called about the masses stood positioned for battle as well, several lines of relief medics and mercenaries awaiting duty at their barracks. Fencers and swordsmen employed as well, their rapiers and sabers sheathed, they surveyed the distance, speaking amongst them quietly. The city itself lay dormant in wait, its thoroughfares empty of traffic as they lie cold and quiet. Shut down entirely, lanterns extinguished, carts abandoned and doors tightly latched, it seemed that only the cold faces and metal barrels of gunmen and relief forces hid within the eaves and alleyways, doused in shadow. Even the mercantile outlets and taverns, their doors usually open and hospitable to all men at arms and citizenry, sat closed, the azure lake and thickly foliaged emerald forests scattered about the land serene and silent, the early evening sky empty save for the sporadic clouds and occasional avian bird flapping its feathered wings gracefully overhead the land with eminence. “Sire Ludan…” Beaumont started, looking away from his mounted position on the raptor, towards Ludan, the fine general himself now ornamented in finely crafted silver armor, leather sheath at waist and reins in hand. He seemed still dressed in his modest battle robes, the imperial flag of Faiye suspended to the side of the raptor, as it flapped eagerly about the breeze, as Frederick Poyle turned to speak on his behalf. “General Beaumont…after reviewing out integral strategy, I believe the congregation of two parties of forces was a fine compromise. However, taking into thought, do you believe the aggressor will contemplate a manner in which to counter our formation? All of these events have occurred on such short notice!” “Ah…I had that in mind, Poyle…I took the liberty to advise our formations to split into smaller factions, should the aggressor have happened to utilize a series of feint tactics. However, I can not remain entirely sure of their stratagems…your thoughts, Sir Dash?” “Hmm…if you were to organize your factions into waves, I believe this strategy would result in a loss of casualties in our favor…” “Ah…a most interesting observation, swordsman. However, a defensive maneuver like this remains most difficult to choreograph.” Ludan spoke from his raptor. With that thought, Professor Aston was quite quick to make an observation of his own. “True…however, I must digress…if one pays heed to recent history, LaGuardia’s strategists have resided amongst the most serious and deceiving of tacticians. It is highly obvious they would resort to ranged weapons and magic, not to mention the employment of practitioners of foreign alchemic arts. From their glaring failure during the ten year LaGuardia conflict, it should be evident they would change their formations in such a manner.” He replied, perched atop his raptor, a brilliant and noble reptilian donned about leather defensive garb and silver talon extensions, reins fastened and gripped about his hands. As he held onto the reins with his leather greaves, Dash noticed a small battle Rif’el strapped to his waist, which naturally aroused suspicion, since such weapons were banned from the very order he supported. In his thoughts, Dash questioned this and made a secret note to ask Skye about it later when he received the chance. As he sat ready at his post, he seemed rather analytical as he surveyed the horizon, his eyes focused. Yet, for one instance, Skye remained hopeful, to some degree, the province of Faiye would somehow emerge fortunate and avert such an pointless conflict. Although these aspirations were now seemingly abject, she could see the enemy militancy approaching from the distance, hoping desperately for it to somehow terminate. As enemy forces and Calvary approaching from the distance, their employed sabers readied and Musk’ets loaded, the avian Dragons sneered, their fangs bared and jagged talons lashed outwards as Ludan held charge of his military, his eyes tenacious, yet somehow deftly resilient, holding steady the already puissant wave of resolve about him. Jade himself, donned in a black suede military overcoat, green epaulets at shoulder and hilted saber sheathed at waist, badges and military markings pinned about his suit, leather sash thrown across his torso, his crimson hair combed finely backwards in an audacious compliment to his stature. Even approaching steadily perched atop his battle dragon, an entity of purveyed trepidation, its onyx wings and figure like that summoned forth from a myth, Dash thought its eyes resembled that of a freshly forged and tempered sword or fiery coal. Its neck and body sheathed in provocative armored platelets, the creature opened its mouth, teeth resembling that of jagged daggers as it let forth a forced roar. The bursting howl from the raptor tore through the wind, sending a variery of birds scattering away from their perches and into the wind. The dictator himself, called out towards Ludan, as they arrived at a standstill, both sides eyeing each other with outright abhorrence. A series of campaigning factions scattered as far as the eye could survey, Dash could now see a series of cloth woven battle flags and ensigns hung steadily above the masses with lances and posts. Dragons and raptors commanding, their riders holding their jagged lances and swords at the ready, both generals motioned for their archers holding their steed, as each leader traded forth their traditional vindictive formalities, particularly in the art of insult. No little than thirty meters separated both adversaries between both opposing sides as they once again arrived at an inherent standstill, Ludan speaking forth. “Ah, I see the traitor to the order of the Kai Ne’Hr returns to lash upon his former allies with his signature sophistry and chicanery…” Ludan spoke, Jade replying from his post, looking towards his adversary with an outright draconic scowl. “Very well, my dear president…your deceptive practices only continue to stab venom into the hearts of the common man…why do you continue to remain so adamant against our order? Resilience only spells ignorance, in theory…and you continue to deny yourself the truth.” “And your hypocrisy only continues to reflect the deft lack of realism in your so called ‘aspirations’ of an improved society. How interesting, I must say, you would corrupt those close to my administration in an attempt to oust my so called ‘venomous’ ways, when in fact, your acclamations of rule continue remain so commandingly vehement and radical, in all due respects…” “Heh…what a very conniving enunciation…and how vulpine of the swordsman to join ranks with those laity of the sectarian state…and yet…’tis the essence of the winds of amelioration… perchance the very sweet nectar of equality constitutes venom to yourself, miss Skye…and for one to believe we both once drank from the very same gold laden goblet of prosperity to sip forth from the foul springs of so called ‘righteousness’…very well…” “Jade…your regimancy constitutes little more than a band of incongruous rogues…knaves with little disposition other than to blindly follow the corrupted fervor of their leader with aspirations of wealth…” As Dash spoke from his raptor, he drew forth his sword of Chrysalis, Frederik Poyle and Calvin Beaumont following suit as they withdrew their damascene crystal fencing rapiers from their leather sheaths as well. Jade’s aristocracy of sectarian political dissidents following suit, the dictator brandished his silvery sabers, shouting to his men at arms. At that point, with a sudden degree of certitude every aspect of civility and serenity aspired dissipated into a tide of revolution, crashing against the shores of animosity as a thick plumed line of white smoke erupting forth from the musket lines of both opposing campaigns. Raptors and dragons charging forth, swords and lances drawn, as countless groups of lancers and swordsmen charged into the field, as they intersected in a striking rendition of past wars, blades clashing, arrows piercing the skies, as avian dragons flew by overhead. In deft aerial conflict with their reptilian counterparts, bursts of flame and tearing talons ripping at each other, Dash’s raptor charging forth, as men at each side of him fell dead from the resulting musket fire and arrows, the tenuous pulse from his blade of chrysalis lighting his way as his raptor hopped a knoll, felling an opposing archer between its talon claws. Revolving around quickly to deflect an enemy arrow, no sight of either Skye or Argent in the distance, Dash could nearly spot Ludan to his east, rushing across the field as he swung his blade, falling several enemy officers from their respective reptilian perches. Frederik Poyle himself, preserving the glory of the flag of Faiye, the noble falcon still in flight, charged to Dash’s side, as the province continued to erupt in prevalent musket fire and artillery attacks, fires blazing throughout the city and thoroughfares of the city. Its defenders hopelessly caught in a pincer attack from each side scattered as they attempted desperately to defend the palace from incoming naval fire, as the shells streaked across the sky, towards the vicinage of Faiye. Their already depleted merchant fleet proving little avail to their aid and the diaphanous sky already darkened to the extent of shadows by the ostentatious concentration of arrows in flight, Dash fended off yet another incoming enemy, Frederik Poyle approaching him from adjacent. “Ludan’s first formation seems to be to a degree, prevalent thus far…it would be imperative you take command of our regiment and launch an assault against the fourth enemy garrison ahead…I’ll assist with the retaliatory effort to resume control of the city…” “Sounds viable, General Frederik Poyle! Gather your forces further south of the city and assemble them there…I’m guessing Jade will attempt to invade directly, which would give your forces time to strike from the southern forested regions. Most likely, I believe he’ll purport a strengthened military defense to the north, since in fact, that lies within the trade routes to Allercus…” Dash suggested to him, as Frederik commended his stratagems and rushed off towards the countryside before him, which already lie scattered with the dead and wounded, fallen raptors and common practitioners aided by the medics, as they tried frantically and in a sense of futility to stop the reaper’s ravage about the field. With a sudden wave of secondary of musket fire erupting across the region as a stream of metallic shot perhaps emanating from the barrel of a musket, burst forth through his raptor’s leg, the resultant force nearly throwing the swordsman off course. As the noble reptilian creature collapsed the grass with a cry of agony, Dash himself fallen from his perch, his defensive garb badly scuffed from the fall, he recovered his sword of chrysalis from the grassy knoll before him, casting askance to his now dead reptilian counterpart. Glancing off towards the distance, Dash could see the field still cast in a wave of smoke and strife, the hill scattered with dead militants, countless arrow stocks pierced into the fertile soil, as a bombarded artillery unit sat idle, its rifled barrel emitting forth a fine plume of smoke. Casting askance towards the sky to see several more draconic forces fighting, talons ripping, lashing and clawing away at each other, the avian creatures engaged in a deft combative stance, several enemy mercenaries approached him, lunging their swift and fine rapiers at him with deft skill as he parried off one attack. As he blocked the attack with a sudden conniving revolution and branching sparks emitting from his blade, themselves wafting about the evening breeze as he parried yet several more vicious attacks lashed out towards him by the aggressors with candor, his eyes focused, yet reserved like that of a serpent. With telltale skill performing a backwards flip as they both slashed at him from opposing angles side, landing adjacent to them with a spiraling slice, fatally wounding one of them, the enemy mercenary’s saber clattering to the grass as he fell, the opposing enemy lunged at him in retaliation with a repentant circular slash, as the swordsman quelled the attack, locking his blade with the enemy. The opposition eyeing him for apparent advantage, his dark eyes and shorn robes ruffling about the cool breeze, Dash overcame his stance, slashing at his torso, as he flew backwards with a precisely terminative strike, the assailant now fallen and fatally wounded. Surveying the field below him, already littered with sporadic military activity, and the resonating waves of trepidation as his fellow brethren below struggled to retain hold of their defensive stance, the enemy supposedly seemed to gain a steady advantage, as yet more artillery shells burst about the air, brilliant rocket tails streaming about the sky. Developing battle fatigue, and sheathing his sword momentarily, Dash surveyed a fatally wounded fellow soldier about the field, the badly shorn and ripped flag of Faiye still gripped about his leather greaves, his sword and satchel aside him, as he rushed towards the fellow soldier, procuring the flag from its resting place. Approaching the side, Dash plunged its stock upon the fertile hill, perhaps instating a sense of domineering tribute, the noble falcon insignia flapping about the wind, as yet several more enemy forces approached from the emerald, verdant brush. Himself deflecting several more of the swift, streamlined arrows with his sword of Chrysalis, the city of Faiye now stood partially aflame, plumes of scattered of diaphanous smoke rising forth from its thoroughfares and mercantile venues. Several of the errant ordinances streamed about the field as from their sources they scattering upon its recipients an arborous array of fiery sparks, the provincial gates and barracks already profusely damaged from the onslaught. As these fires streamed from the skies around them, the smell of burning grass and the sight of embers scattering about the wind like fireflies now seemed so close in proximity. From his vantage point, he could survey several raptors to his side charging through an enemy barricade, ally soldiers in a final attempt to quell the conflict, as from the distance, Dash could survey Skye, Kylie and Scorpio approach from the thick mist ahead. Perched atop their nobly armored raptor, its eyes and scales resembling the ethereal sanctity of a god, perchance an angelic curator sent forth to whisk him away from the volatile and egregious tide of animosity, its feathery wings spread and emerald eyes bright, as it approached steadily in a subtle gait, Skye stopped before him in all her glory, herself donned in battle robes, carrying an emerald staff, the raptor stopping at a pause at the top of the knoll. Several arrows rocketing past it with steady velocity, the swordsman took silver reins into hand, taking hold of the saddle as he pulled himself atop quickly, as with absolute certitude, Kylie could survey the telltale fatigue about him, his eyes filled with resolve. As the seemingly amaranthine raptor bounded off into the evening mist, the sky itself, still covered in streaks of cloud, in a veil of dark oceanic mystique, Skye eyed the region tenaciously for any sign of advantage amongst her consorts, both enemy and allied provincial troops still engaged in a deftly combative stance. It had seemed to her any hopeful sense of camaraderie amongst them stood entirely bereft from reality, perhaps an apotheosis to the unwritten law of conflict, as seemingly endless array of feathered arrows flew about the air. As Kimiahn eyed enemy forces, arching the string of her mahogany bow and sending several streamlined arrows towards incoming mercenary units, felling one and wounding another, the aggressor collapsing to the ground in a cry of agony, she noticed that the field now stood in an almost serene state of perception, both general now approaching each other from the distance atop their dragons. As they sparred about the air, each dragon clawing and tearing at its reptilian counterpart, several of the allied and enemy forces foregoing any means of combat to tenaciously eye the conflict, Skye’s raptor now stopped shortly atop one of Wingate’s avenaceous and lush grassy knolls, as they eyed both dragons of the leading generals lash at each other with their talons, Ludan’s avian swinging its spiked tail at its counterpart. With precise agility, the black dragon flapped its wings backwards, nearly avoiding damage as it thrust its talons towards its counterpart, with a ripping tear severely wounding it. Ludan’s red dragon, in a reactionary synopsis, snapped forth its scaled tail in a wave like motion, the resultant force from the swing nearly falling Jade from his post, as with his draconic sense, he countered with a circular talon slash, tearing at his adversary dragon’s neck with streamlined accuracy, nearly piercing its wings. Hanging to his post, Ludan retained his composure, speaking to Jade in defiance. “And yet, you continued to lash out against me with such dishonorable and venomous technique…If I recall correctly, you have breached every code of etiquette which constitutes a proper draconic match…” Ludan enunciated, as Jade replied quickly, each word of his mere venom in Ludan’s wounds. “And yet, Dear General, you continue to partake of the foul irrelevancies of chivalry…how ostentatious of you, should a man of your stature represent himself as a leader…even your acquaintance Rinehart served to a farther extent, than did yourself, and absolutely Ludicrous some would deem you a worthy military leader! At the mere sight, your campaign seems ill choreographed and falsely centered…” He spoke in a retaliatory stance, as Ludan countered once again, his dragon lashing forth a swipe at the opposition, ripping forth a wound in its torso. “I must admit some of Rinehart’s policies were truly representative, however, his lack of military conduit only contributed further to his demise…such open government would eventually collapse under the baring and rabid fangs of such deceiving and undeserving serpentine patrons, their coils of digress ever tightening about its livelihood of promising ideals, and hope of a breath of freedom liberated into the environs of obscurity!” Ludan spoke, Jade’s dragon rushing forward at it with absolute abhorrence, as both draconic creatures lashed forth in a brilliant array of sparring moves, talons clawing and ripping, the snapping of bared fangs and fiery breath. As a tertiary round of musket fire erupted across the countryside from the warring fronts, the acrid smell of gunpowder wafted about the evening breeze, as all at once, Ludan’s dragon let forth a roar of absolute agony, a burst of musket shot flying forth into Ludan’s torso, breaking through his robes, as he keeled from his position, falling to the ground in outright pain. Kneeling to the grass, one hand as his saber, the other at his chest, he tightened his grip about the wound, his eyes closed and hands trembling, as his dragon regained its balance, Jade thrown to the ground as well from resultant fire. As his dragon lie dead before him, the enemy general lay severely wounded by Ludan’s dragon, as he edged closer for yet a moment, collapsing to the ground with a tone of finality. As Ludan glanced towards him from his position, he struggled to retain his strength and at the moment fell into a state of unconsciousness, only for Argent Kaine Pyre to emerge from the misty distance, his red cape and hair ruffling about the breeze, sword sheathed upon his saddle, as he picked the general from the soil with his leather greaves and with great strength held him from the ground by the back of his armor. His armored raptor trotting off towards Dash and Skye, his face reflected as angered, his ruby eyes glowed with outright tenacity. “Dash, Miss Skye…they’ve launched a full assault on the vicinage! I recommend you abandon the field immediately and seek shelter elsewhere...I believe we’re on the verge of falling to the enemy!” “Sire Argent…I cannot take the action upon myself to forsake my very honor and dignity, as in response to flee whilst my very countrymen forage through such conflict…I apologize, however, I can see your point...” Dash spoke to Argent with a degree of certitude. “Honor is a venerable quality, but what good is it through martyrdom! Come now, we have to hurry!” Argent replied rather calmly. “Very well, then…Argent…We’ll leave the rest to Sir Frederick Poyle...but what about Beaumont and the others?” “They’ll take care of themselves for the moment...” “Ludan? Father in law? Don’t let lose your grasp in the wings of hope…we cannot afford your loss…” Skye spoke, Ludan still struggling to attain some sort of equilibrium between the ever deepening gap of stability and chaos, both armored raptors now trotting about the field in a quick gait, through the rugged brush and thick wild grasses ahead, bushy foxtail plants and reeds, their stalks ruffling about to their sides, Kimiahn casting a glance back towards the city. Now completely out of her field of vision which lie partially concealed by the thick veil of mist Skyw could see the open field to her rear abstruse with trees and foliage about the countryside, as through the sky, the remnants of rockets and artillery could still be surveyed streaking about the air, the telltale stream of fiery vermillion sparks branching about the wind. As Argent kept a steady hold of his reins whilst supporting Ludan, his crimson cape ruffled about the breeze and the field ahead now seemed eerily empty, save for the forests ahead. As they approached a clearing from the brush, both raptors rushed to a stop rather quickly, poised towards a watch of enemy Calvary officers. As they sat atop the knoll of their escapade venue, Dash remained cognizant to their presence, as several of them progressed forward from their post, several arrow stocks still visible, their stocks permeating the grassy knolls at sporadic distances. Kimiahn, in her stride, performed to her best duties to assimilate a remedial solution in which to treat Ludan, as Scorpio assisted, producing whatever medical knowledge he possessed. As Skye readied her staff, Dash and Argent moving forth to perhaps negotiate with the enemy, the Red Scorpion cast askance towards the imperial officers, his crimson eyes reserved, yet focused, as their leader stepped from his post, military robe worn and pinned badges prevalent, face young, yet astute, stepping forth to greet them. “Soldiers of the provincial city of Faiye…” He started, the already darkened sky, its heavens streaked about with storm clouds, rumbled about, droplets of water streaming forth about the land, as Dash answered. “We represent the order of the snake, on command of Sir Jade Norbert Maxwell the Eighteenth…it is within my Inherent duties to deny passage to the enemy faction…state your rank, if you would please…” “Delegates, I represent the Faiye mercantile district. I shall not profess forward such impulsive policy, however, I wish to avert such senseless conflict in the name of all inherent reason. Perchance we can develop some form of compromise, since we’re both civilized gentlemen…” Dash replied with general candor, the precipitation emanating From the sky filling the air with a sweet refreshing scent, almost vermouth to the swordsman, and a subtle reminder of the fertile land of LaGuardia, as the officer replied, looking towards’ Dash’s party, partially averting Argent’s piercing serpentine eyes. “My apologies, however, with Jade’s orders, it is within my apparent authority to quell all enemy influence, no matter how charitable or gallant…perchance, though, I’ll grant you passage in exchange for both the girl and the general. A simple exchange, no?” He motioned with his saber towards Skye, as Dash, with an almost amaranthine tone, developed a compromise. “I wish not to engage in such senseless and trivial affair…both the girl and the general are fellow brethren of mine, and a man of my stature to forsake the very concepts of honor and integrity brought upon myself, remains steadily insurmountable. It is dishonorable for one to desert a fellow soldier upon the field, perchance you lack the qualities of a true officer at heart…” Dash replied, the enemy officer obviously offended, as he backed towards his raptor, a finely armored and gallant creature, drawing forth his saber, as he motioned for his fellow soldiers to mount their raptors. “Very well…crossing the path of the order of the snake constitutes heresy to the veracious order…perchance the auspicious serpent lash forth and strike venom into your ideals of animosity and treason…” The officer replied, mounting his raptor, drawing forth his finely ornamented saber, its streamlined blade inlaid with runes, taking reins into hand, the raptor positioned for a sprint. The now turbulent sky above them rumbling about, as lightning crackled and flashed about the sky, droplets of water spraying upon the soil in a fine array forth from the heavens, like ethereal arrows, the cool evening breeze now seemed entirely stinging, the gusty winds swaying the verdant trees and foliage about with violence as the ground stood moist. The enemy soldiers awaited orders with subtlety, as they sat ready at their raptors, their fencing swords unsheathed and drawn. As pending such orders Kimiahn stood ready, her mahogany bow arched as she held the stock of her arrow bolt rather tightly. Dash, preoccupied with concentration, held the azure sword of chrysalis, as his white bandanna and vermillion hair ruffled about the wind. He had grown tired from such conflict, but felt an inherent urge to emerge victorious, or die in his attempts to do so…escape to him epitomized dishonor straight down the line. And no sooner did Dash consider this, that with the blaring of a war trumpet, the enemy forces charged across the smoky mists at them, as his parts stood ready at the defense. Instinctually, Argent and Dash rushed forth as the swordsman swung at the oncoming raptor with two complete opposing circular revolutions, throwing one mounted soldier backwards as the other veered to the side and tumbled to the field, snapping his neck. As one of Kimiahn’s arrows falling its rider, another enemy swordsman approached from the fencer’s side in a deftly steady gait and raised his saber only for Dash to leap forth towards his raptor and with a spiraling revolution cut, breaking away his blade, throwing the enemy backwards, the terminative strike felling him to the ground in a crescent of blood. Yet several complimenting officers charged towards Skye and Ludan at full speed, herself struggling to provide some modest defense as she raised her emerald staff into the air, she chanted under her breath, her eyes closed, perchance praying for protection. The enemy perched atop his raptor raised his lancet saber into the air, his face filled with outright hatred, as from his raptor with steady speed he lunged suddenly and thrust the long and crystal blade towards Skye’s neck, only for the Dash to leap forth from his position, and consequently quell the attack, his blade deflecting the streamlined medium of trepidation away from Skye, as it pierced into his azure sapphire pendant. The strike now diverted as a fresh stinging pain permeated about his torso, the resultant venomous strike lashed forth a wave of intrinsic agony about him, as he fell to his knees, cringing in pain, grasping the wound in a sheer cry of resilient agony, his eyes filled with resolve in an attempt to regain his stance to defend the Acolyte. Sword drawn and ready, he fought combatively to attain a subtle defense, now each and every Calvary officer and member of Dash’s entourage casting askance to the nearly fallen leader, the field silent, save for the misty rain and turbulent skies ahead, thunder and arced electricity riveting about the air, the verdant foliage swaying about in the howling breeze, somewhat like that of a rabid wolf, as they stopped short, to hear Skye’s piercing cries into the wind. “Sir Dash!!!” All at once as the field and events about him began to stymie in their entirety, the trotting and steady gait of the raptors resonating about the moist air, everything once again nearly frozen, Dash could survey Skye locked in her defensive stance, as Ludan sat kneeling upon the fertile grass, his robes donned, Scorpio and Kylie at their defenses, Argent’s cape ruffling about, as he held guard against the Enemy. Dash himself, now nearly standing, his sapphire pendant pulsating with a tenuous aura, his sword following suit, radiance steadily incrementing, began to notice as a subtle light began to flood upon himself from the pendant and sword, the pain alleviating itself from his wounds, as they healed in their entirety, the apprehensive weight o fatigue once burdened upon himself from the nearly gravitational forces of obscurity suddenly lifted, liberated from their entirety. As a luminous aura began to form around him, Skye now casting a glance towards Dash, he levitated partially, his eyes closed and sword sheathed, his fatigues, white bandanna and vermillion hair ruffling about the wind, before her. The suddenly gentle luminescence casting a shock wave about the field, Dash floated now entirely radiant, the streams and streaks of light striking the grass about him as though they were azure oceanic sparks wafting about the breeze. As she stood in deft awe, her emerald staff pulsated in as well, the swordsman’s aura now emitting an odd resonance, which seemed to scatter about the breeze, avian birds fleeing from their verdant and forested perches, as both allied and enemy factions cast a glance towards the mysterious radiance. As the enemy leader stood defensively, shielding his eyes with his robes, from atop his raptor, the aura now landed to the ground, as a figure emerged from the brilliant light, his sword drawn and articulate eyes open, his bandanna still ruffling about, as he approached towards Skye, the same as usual, save for a pair of feathery angelic wings upon him, now spread across like that of a noble falcon. In her eyes, Dash seemed like that of a venerable angelic savior, his face and eyes similar, as well as his hair, and ears and tail like that of a fox, as the enemy forces nearly awakened from their awe. As Dash regained his composure, the general took steed and charged throughout the turbulent and misty breeze, his fencing rapier drawn as he once again lunged forth with outright force towards Skye, only for Dash to spread his wings forth, shielding Skye from the apparent onslaught. With innate skill, he burst forth from his environs with a plume of azure radiance, sending the calvary officer spiraling towards the grass in a cascade of emerald sparks, yet another wave of secondary officers charging at them. In resilience, their lancet styled rapiers brandished, the salutatorian leader called out to his consorts, as Dash leaped forward with his wings, performing a forwards spiraling flip, almost as though a mirage, both officers collapsed from their raptors to the ground, with a secondary wave of brilliant fencing maneuvers. The rest of the Calvary officers retreating off quickly into the brush with a steady gate, Skye and Argent stood in deft shock, as Ludan looked forward with a sense of awe within his amber eyes, Kimiahn and Scorpio still enamored by his enigmatic and newfound prowess. Readying his sword, Dash suddenly sheathed his blade, as he levitated above them for a moment, electrical impulses arching forth from him, with outright intensity. “My…Akael…” Skye spoke, as she struggled to see beyond the streaming impulse, as a rifting nova of blazing azure light emitted, casting everything about them into intense luminescence. With the brilliant flash, Argent shielded his eyes with his robe as the cyclonic wind nearly threw him to the ground in a blinding daze. Without warning, the cloud of energy began to dissipate as Skye rubbed at her eyes, blinded momentarily by the light, with a struggle to stand to stand upwards, dazed so greatly. The air clearing, she paid notice to the remaining enemy soldiers before her who lie completely vanished from the scene and with his descent from levitation, Dash stood in its center, some of the grass around him charred in a fashion of circular revolution. As all at once, the venerable swordsman collapsed to his knees, eyes closed and sword lessened from grip, as in a small stream of emerald and vermillion sparks, his wings and tail faded into obscurity, the once feathery and radiant angelic wings now replaced with his onyx draconic sheath. His damascene sword of chrysalis lie cracked and shadowed in a puddle of clear water and crumpling to the ground, Ludan could only wonder if the swordsman had died. Surely he had. He had seen the enemy soldier impale the poor lad with his saber. Few could survive something such as that. Still, he remained perplexed as to why he would throw himself into the acolyte’s path of destiny. Argent slowly approached the dead swordsman, as he picked him up by his armor, examining his eyes and spoke. “No...not good at all...” He spoke, setting him down to the grass once again. “Kimiahn?” Argent called, as the artifacer approached him from Ludan’s side. “Yes, Sir Argent?” “I don’t...think he’s alive. There isn’t a way to save him, is there?” “I’ll try my best, sir...I’ll give you my word...” As Dash’s armor and fatigues set badly torn, his sapphire pendant cast out a final brilliant array of sparks, startling the Artifacer as they faded away into the howling wind, revealing a shattered pendant, as he still lie unconscious. “Sir? Dash?” Kimiahn asked, looking towards him, without an answer. From the distance, a small figure riding a raptor approached from the verdant foliage at a steady gait, his provenance perhaps the city of Faiye, as he stopped before Skye, dismounting his raptor and casting askance towards the unconscious swordsman. Speaking with a commanding tone of resilience, his dark eyes and blue hair seemed camouflaged with the shadows ahead. “Miss Skye! The enemy is sending forth a secondary wave of forces! It lies within my highest suggestions you vacate the premises at once!” “Sire Argon Flynn? It…truly is an honor! However, why would you take upon yourself the fiduciary to aid my entourage, given the fact Dash bested you in combat?” Skye asked, Agron bowing forth to her, as he closed his eyes, looking away towards the cloudy sky, and the cloth ribbon ties to his sword hilt ruffled about the breeze. His nobly armored raptor, tenacious and cognizant waited calmly, as he replied to her. “Miss Skye…I have failed to uphold my honor within combat, and for this noble purpose, I can no longer face my homeland with pride… the swordsman has proven himself worthy as the Akai, and for that, my commandments! Alas, you must summon forth your Dragon! It is within my final duty of honor to protect you and reinstate my name, even if I must die…” “Sire Agron!!!” Kimiahn asked, as he turned around, a look of scrutiny about his azure, emerald eyes, as he turned away, without a reply, the field now nearly silent, save for the rockets streaming about the air ahead, still sprays of sparks streaking about the clouds, as Skye took her staff into hand whilst closing her eyes, as she chanted to her dragon, under her breath, Agron holding his sword steady, without warning, the fiery dragon spreading her graceful wings about the sky, as she coasted forth from her environs. A tail of gentle sparks wafting about from her, as the dragon landed about the clearing in the field, from the distance, a tertiary wave of Calvary forces charging towards the Dragon and Agron with outright vehemence, Argent plucking the swordsman from the ground with his leather greaves, as Kimiahn procured the sword of Chrysalis. Escaping, Scorpio and Ludan took grasp of a scale of the dragon, as it lifted above the ground gently, the noble Agron Flynn waiting solitary below them on his raptor, as the dragon flapped her wings about, casting an ethereal draft about the field and coasting off towards the emerald foliage ahead under the darkened misty Skies. As with the incoming Calvary forces, Agron took his sword into hand with a tone of resolve, lifting the streamlined and damascene blade into the sky, his hair ruffling about the breeze, as he set forth at the incoming forces speaking his final words. “Akael Me’han…I stand bereft...please forgive my errant ways…” Other links of interest. Back to Home Page Back to New Era Page

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