Drone

10 Wilbur Teaman.

"Niklas, please don't." Lill held up a warding hand.

"Is that so?" the man asked as he examined Niklas curiously.

Niklas saw that the man wore a thin-bladed sword at his side.

"Boss," one of the other two men grunted. They carried themselves like soldiers but wore no uniform. Guards maybe? They were also armed with thin swords and long Relrin pistols. "Is there a problem?" the one in front asked Niklas.

"He will apologize," Niklas said, motioning to their young commander.

"Niklas!" Lill gasped as she rushed down to him and grabbed his arm. "Let's go."

Niklas didn't feel the pull.

The fifth law of the holy ones echoed in Niklas' head. Always protect the holy ones.

Though not harmed physically, she had been insulted.

The two guards chuckled, and one stepped forward, resting his hand on a dagger in his belt. He was slightly shorter than Niklas but stood confidently several steps above Niklas, bringing his eyes over Niklas' head.

Niklas' heart pounded. Ambushing an unexpected doctor was different than engaging with a pair of trained soldiers.

His body hurt. He was by no means battle-ready.

"Do you know who you're talking to?" The guard asked, stepping down nose to nose with Niklas.

Niklas didn't move.

"Arth, that's enough," the younger man stepped beside his guard, looking at Niklas as if he was the most intriguing thing he had ever seen. "Obviously, this is just a little misunderstanding."

"Boss, let me take care of this," the guard said.

"Where are your manners, Arth? Look at this specimen. He's built like an ox. He didn't shrink from you; how many people do you know who hold their own like that? This Sharderin is a wolf."

Niklas looked from one to the other, unsure what to make of them. His eyes darted to the pistol on Arth's hip. If he moved fast enough, he might be able to get it.

"Apologize," he growled, stepping into Arth and forcing the man back.

"Hey!" Arth barked, shoving Niklas in the chest.

Niklas stumbled on the steps and missed his footing as he fell back.

He flailed his arms as he tumbled head over heels down the few steps. He tucked his head and broke his fall properly, but a few deeper scabs cracked on his back, and his knee flashed with searing heat. Niklas felt his ears flush red as he looked up at Arth from the dirty cobbles.

"Please, sir!" Lill cried. "He doesn't know what he's doing!"

"Pink!" Niklas snapped as he scrambled to his feet. He was only vaguely aware of his pain as he focused on the men in front of him.

Arth rested his hand on his pistol. "Tsk-tsk," he hissed as he shook his head.

Niklas froze. What was happening? He was a Sharderin Drone. He had not trained his whole life just to be humiliated on a Relrin street. He should have more valor.

"Gentlemen, please!" the younger man cut in, holding a hand toward each one. "Arth. Step back."

The armsman nodded and flashed a degrading smile down at Niklas before stepping away.

"I have never seen a Sharderin with such...bite!" the younger man grinned. "In fact. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. Who do you work for? I must meet him." He stepped down the stairs and stuck out his hand as if expecting Niklas to shake it.