Dragon Frost (2 page)

“
Shit!” I
hear the man gasp. I clean my blade on the black section of my
cloak. Still holding my blade, I turn to him. His blue eyes are
wide with fear as he glances down at the blade in my hand. I frown,
I may have done a few horrid things in my life but killing an
innocent was never one. I slip my blade back in place.

“
Relax.”
I say as I move to make my way towards him. His eyes scan my
uniform, black scales clinging to my skin as one; the silver
layered armour wraps itself around my outer thighs and upper arms
before covering my shin and forearm braces. My scales were my skin
to a degree; it perfectly held my natural shape, well. “I’m not
going to kill you.” I say. I see his shoulders tense as he nods his
head.

I don
’t blame him not trusting me.
 I think. 
I wouldn’t either.

“
Are you
General Griffon?” I question. He shakes his head and turns to the
man, who dangles lifeless, in a nearby tree. “Do you have the
package?”

“
Here,”
he admits as he taps the sac on his waist. I regard it for a moment
before turning my gaze back to him; I pull out a badge from the
centre of my silver utility belt. I flash him it. I would often
have to do this since people wouldn’t exactly believe I wouldn’t
kill them given who or what they were that is.

“
Commander Rodregas, Silver Knight’s Artillery division.”
His eyes are wide and I return my badge back to its place, where he
perceives it. I ignore him. His eyes fall to the same badge upon
the right side of my chest that holds my cloak together. “Come with
me.”

“
Wait,
what?” he questions. “Why?”

“
You have
the package; I’m here to escort you back to the Order’s
Headquarters.” I turn my back on him, before; he has a chance to
protest. Entering the forest, I hear him sigh before jogging to
stride behind me.

“
So
where’s this Order place?”

“
Lament
Island,” He stops.

I turn
over my shoulder to see his face in shock. “You can’t be
serious.”

“
When, am
I not?” It was rhetorical I didn’t expect him to answer that since
we only met a few moments ago but still I seem to find him
annoying. I turn from him and move through the forest, knowing that
this is going to be a long journey.

“
But
that’s three days ride.”

“
Six.”

“
Huh?”

“
It will
take six days on foot since, I didn’t come by horse.” I admit, I
preferred to walk rather than to ride, the saddle is alright for
some time and is faster but it’s my mind, I prefer the solitude of
the forest, the solitude of the countryside.

“
Why on
earth would you not own a horse? You’re a Commander for heaven’s
sake!” I turn to regard him, his face drops. My gaze never wavers
nor did any expression mask my features. Over a period of time,
when you realise that you’ll do nothing more than suffer the smile
that people seem to have and share is no more but a memory.
“What?”

“
We’re
walking.” I say and end it at that. Moving through the forest with
a slow pace is a calming and relaxing sensation however; I didn’t
completely relax as Varden continues to annoy me with his
persistent huffing. I regard him over my shoulder every now and
again just to make sure that it’s him and not a wild boar. The last
thing I want is to be tusked.

“
Can we
stop?” he questions and I look at him with perplexity. Why would we
stop? We would arrive at the Order in six days if we kept our pace.
He must of been pampered his whole life to not be able to walk
straight for a whole day. “I’m hungry.”

“
You just
ate.”

“
That was
eight hours ago.” he says. “I didn’t even eat that much since, you
killed that Lazgolo before me which resulted in me, losing my
appetite.”

“
Don’t
pin this on me!” I snap as I turn to face him. “You wanted food, I
gave it. Be grateful!”

“
A
healthy man needs to eat more than once a day.” he announces I turn
back to the path before me and continue our journey, “Just so you
know.” I scan his slightly masculine build from over my shoulder
and continue to stride, him following behind. He wasn’t like the
other men I grew to know, the ones that were really large in size.
They would often fight me as an exercise since the others would be
out, I didn’t mind. As long as they didn’t mess up my face I was
fine with it. I halt at his words. 
Did he just find a sexist related
reason to back up his need for food? Pathetic.

I turn to
face him and cross my arms, shifting my weight under my cloak that
I can feel move at my motions, ever so slightly. “How long ago did
you say you ate?” I ask still remembering. Not caring.

“
Eight
hours ago.” His stomach growls to emphasizes his claim and I
inspect the woods around us. He didn’t carry any ration packs nor
did he seem to carrying any food which is odd. No man or woman
would go wondering through the forest, which stretches between two
town’s days apart. Bandits were in these woods but that’s why I
made sure I was always armed.

“
Fine,” I
say as I scan the horizon in the distance where it touches the tree
line. I didn’t even realise it was that late. I spent my time,
running through things that needed to be done when I returned to
the Order. “We’ll set up camp here. I’ll find some wood, make
yourself comfortable.” I say and he glances around.

“
What
here? On the ground,” I stare at him. He no doubt has had
everything that this world can offer, that really annoys me more
than I can even admit.

“
Would
you like to sleep in a tree? That can be arranged.” I say, growing
less patient. He’s like a child! In need of looking after, he had
no food, no water and if we were attacked, I would have to protect
him since he did not have the decency to carry a weapon with
him.

“
The
forest floor’s fine.” he quickly manages.

“
Good.” I
turn and move through the woodland. I examine the trees for
kindling that I can take in one go, we did not need that much since
I would sleep just after dusk. Normally I would sleep in the trees
to avoid being attacked. With this extra baggage, I am going to
have to re-evaluate my plan.

I stop at the
thought and look up, there is enough wood. Pulling out my sword, I
run up the tree, leaping around its elbows before managing my way
at the top. I flip and swing my blade, hearing the sound of thick
clattering wood. I concur that this should be more than enough.

Once I
had gathered enough wood, I make my way back to the clearing and
find Varden sitting on a log. Not even a place is secured for the
fire. He could at least clear the area or we will burn the forest
down well we would have if it weren’t for their damp soil and moist
leaves. I can feel the cool night on approach, as I smell cool
fresh water in the distance. It’s closer than yesterday and I know,
by the time we make it to the Order we’ll be knee high in
snow.

I move to
the centre of the clearing not too far from the log and begin
setting up the campfire. “That was quick,” he utters. I ignore him.
“Where did you find that anyway?”

“
Around,”
I say. He remains silent for several moments while I manage to find
dry soil. Placing down the sticks with some dry leaves (I manage to
evaporate the water from). I place my finger on the edge of a large
log and it catches fire, I hear Varden gasp in surprise.

“
How did
you do that?” he asks. “Are you a 
Witch
?” I could see the fear in his eyes. His people
were primitive in their thinking and beliefs but I knew in their
world because of their primitive thinking like on earth there is a
such thing as Witch Trials.

“
No.”

The sound
of crackling wood fills my ears and I find my way towards the
opposite end of the clearing where I lean back against the bark of
a tree. It’s hard and uncomfortable. Even though I’m used to
sleeping rough, while on the job. “Than what are you?” he asks as I
glance at him, his blue eyes now tinted with fiery orange and a
warm yellow, his face several shades warmer as his hair glows like
a golden halo against the shadows.

“
Let’s
just say, I’m not from around here.” I say and close my eyes
leaving the conversation at that. I am really tired, talking
exerted more of my energy than necessary, including those casual
facial expressions, explaining why I gave up on that. In my field
of work, I need to contain as much of my energy as possible, I
don’t rely on others for it.

I hear
him move from the log and onto the ground, draping something over
his body. I peek an eye open to see that he’s not a complete
hindrance. He pulls a black not too thick but not too thin blanket
over his form. His head is popped up on his tunic as a pillow. I
close my eyes and begin to drift off. “Good night.” he says, I
don’t say anything but allow the need for sleep consume me. My
sleep is immediately interrupted by heavy footsteps and
breathing.

I snap my
eyes open and sit up straight, examining the direction in which I
hear the sound, opposite where Varden sleeps, peacefully, by a log.
He wouldn’t hear it, the sound of its thundering heart, his hearing
wasn’t like mine. The footsteps move closer and I stand. The
footsteps stop. It knows, I know. I warp (leap through space and
distance) from where I stand in the light of the moon before I find
myself closer to the source of the sound. The forest around me is
silent. “I know you’re here.”

“
I would
expect nothing less,” a voice picks up from before me answering my
perceptual call. Piercing red slit-like snake eyes, peer down at
me. It moves towards me and steps out of the shadows exposing its
identity under the silver moon: a ‘Hunter Troll’. “Hand over the
man and I’ll walk away.” I remain silent my cloak falls around my
form and feel the wind pick up lightly gyrating around me in an
elegant fashion. My black hair swings in the breeze under my helmet
that covers half of my features by a black tinted face plate. Only
leaving my blood red small plump lips on display. “Very well, you
forced my hand Nindo. I’ll show you what happens to those who steal
from Golgotha.” I freeze at the name. 
It can’t be?

He swings
his large sledge-hammer around, his muscles moving under the effort
of keeping that weapon from crushing its handler. He’s barely
clothed, large muscles, shoulders and thick abdomen add to his
intimidating stature. It’s rather insulting he dresses down in
front of me. Ignoring the odds; I remain impassive, remain as cold
as my heart. “If you know who I am, than why do you insist on
inflicting your premature demise?”

“
Golgotha
demands it.” The Hunter Troll sends his hammer towards me with
undeniable force and I step back, the blow gushing wind across my
unarmoured chest. “I wonder what will happen if I crush your
chest.”

“
I’ll
die, obviously.”

“
I hope
so.” he taunts as he sends his hammer into a nearby tree where I
once stood. Still, I’m quick to move, scanning his form, searching
for a weakness. “Here I expected more from a god damn Nefaliem.” He
continues to swing his over-sized hammer when I know that I don’t
have the strength I would in my other form, still he continues to
swing. I step around the tree and pull out a hand full of throwing
knives that stand out between the gaps of my scale covered fingers.
I hear the snapping of the twigs under his weight and duck, the
tree that hid me, now, falls towards my bearing. I flip to the
side, effectively avoiding being crushed by the massive trunk and
throw my knives where they manage to stab in his thick
chest.

Realizing
that he was of the ‘Outlanders’, he won’t die so easily. He
launches himself towards me faster than I expect but on impulse my
legs, climb his body where my hands grasp his shoulders, I flip
around him until my stomach is facing the ground, locking my legs
around his thick neck, I lean forward—gaining momentum—I flip him
over from where he stands and into the ground head
first.

I detangle
myself from around him and handspring back away from his form. I
stand ready as I wait for him to rise to his feet once more and as
anticipated he does. He grunts in annoyance and swings his hammer
at me once again. His back turns to me as I dip down, around and
under him. I slide between his legs where his eyes watch me with
amusement.

With as
much strength as I can muster I kick his kneecaps, my thick wedge
heels, crush his lids like gravel under shoes. He cries out in pain
and I slip through his legs again. He slowly turns to face me but
it’s all too late when I lock my wire around his neck and squeeze.
Using not much of my strength, his head is lobbed off and rolls on
the ground where his body falls before me, pooling
blood.

The next
day, Varden and I venture up a slope of land. Damp leaves tumble
down around my feet making it difficult to hike this terrain.
Regardless, I
’m pleased
it is not steeper. Otherwise, we would have to find another route
which would add another day to our plan. “How much longer until the
next town?” he asks.