The Ways of War

Chapter 6

Walking back to my tent was less awful than walking to the armorer was. My new clothes seemed to capture the heat, something I was glad for, especially since the back of my neck now seemed to attract all of the cold air within a 100-mile radius.

Lucas still remained unusually silent and withdrawn as he escorted me back to my tent, and when we reached it, he left with a simple, "bye". Causing me to crinkle my nose at the borderline rude attitude, before I turned and shoved aside the tent flap, entering into a room that was very different than the one I had left.

Patrice and Alvin had been busy in my absence.

The blankets were now hanging completely, bottle necking the smoke and forcing it to either go up the chimney or down the isle. Along with the blankets, their chosen beds were set up; ready to be slept in and all of the provisions that Lucas had dropped off were neatly put away on the shelves. A pot dangled over the fire.

"Guys?" I called out, noting the lack of my two new friends.

There was a light commotion behind one of the hanging blankets, a thump and a curse, before Patrice emerged smiling. "Sorry! We were trying to move some of the shelves, Alvin thought that they would be better along the bottom of the blankets in case wind came, the only problems is those shelves are heavy! She said, slightly winded.

Alvin came limping from behind the curtain. "Yeah, its even worse when the thing is dropped on your foot." He mumbled a second before his eyes went wide. "Holy crap! You look different!" He gasped as his eyes trained onto my hair.

That was when Patrice seemed to notice the difference as well. "And your outfit! I so want one! The all black is awesome!" She gushed as she moved closer to me and started feeling my armor.

Made uncomfortable by the attention I took a small step out of Patrice's reach. "Yeah, I met the Admiral, he said I looked week so I got a make over." I informed them, giving a shortened version of the events as I looked around. "Where is Opher?" I asked, noting the lack of my dragon, kicking myself for not noticing his absence right away. He was a giant gold dragon, how did I miss him.

Patrice shrugged and moved back to behind the blankets. "I don't know, the dragons went on a trip, they wanted to tour the camp or something. I didn't really ask." She called.

Nodding I looked towards Alvin, who had an exasperated humor in his eyes. "I don't understand her, right after you left she had me arranging furniture." He said before he shook his head. "Last I heard they were going to investigate some feeding trough for the dragons, it's on the other side of the camp, so I wouldn't really recommend going after him." Alvin told me before wincing at the voice of Patrice calling him back to her side.

Giving a sympathetic grimace as Alvin moved back towards where Patrice was chattering about interior design and Feng Shui I turned and exited the tent. Looking around at the various Riders and the few Dragons that were wondering on this aisle I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind. "Opher," I called out, throwing my voice as if I was yelling in a circle around me.

There was silence in my mind before there was a stirring in the back of my head. "Royse! I had begun to worry." Opher said in my head, causing a small smile to twist my lips.

Stifling a mental laugh I reached towards the voice. "Worry not! I was forced to have a make over, come back, I want to talk to you." I told him opening my eyes, no longer needing to keep them closed now that I had a connection.

"Alright, but we're already talking." He told me, humor in his voice.

Scowling I crossed my arms, probably looking slightly insane as I glared down at the brown snow at my feet. "Do you want to see my make over or not?" I asked angrily and was answered with a chuckle before Opher informed me that he was on his way.

Smiling in triumph I turned and moved back into the tent, just in time to see Patrice directing Alvin as he carried a stack of pots.

Rolling my eyes at the indignant look on Alvin's face as Patrice used him as a pack mule, I stepped around them and headed for the pot. "What ya' got cookin'" I asked, subconsciously slipping into the improper tone that I had grown up with in my small town. The horrid grammar had been trained out of me while I was young, but still, at times when I was relaxed the quick accent made its appearance.

Patrice flicked a look at me as she told Alvin to place what he was carrying. "Honestly, I don't know. It was in one of the bags that, what was his name? Brought." She told me before she moved past me and started to stir the contents of the pot. "Right now I'm operating on the assumption that it is wet shredded paper, but this is how the box told me to prepare it." She ended with a shrug before she grabbed a mitt and pulled the pot away from the fire.

The smell coming off of the pot was pure heaven; however, when I saw the contents I couldn't help but to agree with Patrice.

Alvin leaned over Patrice shoulder and made a face that could only be described as slightly disgusted and marginally hopeful. "I mean, it has to taste better than the food at the school right?" He asked hopefully.

I raised my eyebrows but I couldn't help but agree and as Patrice carefully scooped the sludge into the bowls I found myself getting slightly hopeful on the taste.

Taking the bowl I poked the mush with my spoon before I gripped the cup of water. Shoveling a spoonful into my mouth I let the flavor linger on my tongue before quickly chocking down some of the water. I put the bowl and my cup on the ground before I began cough and hacking, the horrid taste stuck in the back of my throat.

It was a mixture between stale mud and sweat, and the texture was enough to make my tongue wish it could shrivel into northing with in my mouth. Imagine the feel of dissolving sandpaper on your tongue, it was that bad.

Alvin and Patrice had just been raising their spoons to their mouths when I started my hacking and coughing, now they stood frozen with looks of pure fear on their faces. Wiping tears from my face I looked down at the bowl I had abandoned and chocked down a couple more coughs. "They want to kill us before we even face a Tsoro." I whimpered, my already scratchy voice sounding slightly worse.

Alvin looked at his bowl with a sad expression. "The packaging said that it had all of the essential nutrients we would need to survive, I guess something that can keep you alive while still looking like mush can't also taste good." He said glumly as he picked up his food-laden spoon and let some of the concoction plop back into the bowl with a sickening squish.

Looking at my own discarded bowl I tightened my jaw. "It's the only thing we have to eat." I stated, the resolve in my voice wavering slightly as I looked at the concoction that had caused me to react so violently.

Taking a deep breath I picked up my spoon and pulled my water closer. Releasing the breath I shoved a spoonful into my mouth before taking a gulp of water. The taste was slightly diluted, still horrid, but bearable.

Suppressing a shudder I managed to down all of the contents in a relatively quick amount of time and was on my hands and knees retching when Opher shoved his way into the tent.

"What is happening here?" He asked in a humor filled voice as he took in me on my knees and Alex and Patrice shoveling food down their throats. 

____________________________________________________________________________________When I fail my AP exams and am forced to become a stripper to survive, just remember how close the updates were!

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