I Am A Flyer

II: Battlefield

He stood roughly a half-mile in front of the camp. Beside him, Scares was in full armor, checking his own pouches and pockets to confirm the supply of ammunition for his huge rifle. Jett couldn't believe how calm the man was.

He glanced left, then right. Soldiers stretched out in a long line, no less than three men thick. A flyer was interspersed here and there, while a few glided above.

Where was Raven? The flyer was nowhere in sight, and Jett felt so small and alone. The fact that Scares was beside him did little to help. His round helmet suddenly seemed heavy and hot. Jett fought against the feeling of suffocation, and struggled to calm his fraying nerves.

Relax! He told himself. Panicking isn't going to help! You'll be fine – you've got a sword, and you can dodge stuff. It'll be all right, so -

Who was he kidding? Seriously. He was just a weak kid in a place where he definitely did not belong.

Jett swallowed, feeling the familiar lump of fear forming in his throat. He stared straight ahead at the empty horizon, towards the unseen enemy. Something cold trickled down the side of his face. Where were they?

The deactivated sword was gripped tightly in his right hand, its weight all but forgotten. Brown dust danced about ahead of them, picked up by a hot wind. Ugly dirt was all around – dirt, and brown grit that tainted the darkening skies with a brown color. It would be dark in less than two hours.

"When they come," Scares suddenly spoke, dropping a heavy hand on Jett's shoulder, "don't run out there. Just stay put and hold the line. No matter what, the Kairg must not get past us."

Jett nodded jerkily, not trusting his voice.

"Our flyer's will take care of the Kairg's, so we just have to focus on their troops. Got it? And whatever you do, don't get separated from the rest of us." Scares looked down at Jett. The boy could see the serious gaze behind the man's smooth goggles.

Scares gave a grim smile that was somewhat reassuring. "I'll try to keep most of them away from you, so just don't die, all right?"

"Y-yeah." Jett winced, hearing his voice squeak pathetically. His hands were shaking. He didn't even have to look at them to see that.

A war. A battlefield. What were they like? He could only imagine, but whatever thoughts and pictures that came into his head were horrible. The Kairg were coming, and he would be expected to fight them.

Can I do this?

A shout was suddenly raised – from who, Jett couldn't tell. A second, then a third voice joined in. And soon, Jett could see why.

It was them. They were here. The horizon seemed to ripple like a living wave, and human figures began to form as they marched into view. The Kairg army. Easily outnumbering the line of people that Jett stood with. He faltered a little, seeing that formidable dark line grow larger as it marched toward him.

They're coming!

On and on they came, closer and closer. Marching steadily forward like an approaching wave of death. The Troit soldiers did not move. Jett trembled, heart pounding in his throat. His face and hair were wet with perspiration. He had never been so scared, so overwhelmed in his life.

"Hmm," Scares muttered. "There's less this time."

Huh? Jett was so startled, he jerked around to stare at the man. "Wh- what?" Less? This was less?

"Oh yeah. This group is nothing. And there's hardly any of their flyers with them, so it won't take long to be rid of them." Scares grinned, having lost a bit of his grimness. He seemed almost relieved.