A Dragoneer's Silver Lining

Chapter Thirty Six

Author's Note: Brace yourself.

START

“...stan!”

Invisible sheets of cold winds sliced through his skin.

“Drostan!”

Amidst the warbled noise, sounds of ominous sonorous twangs rang sharply through several layers of cotton against his ears. He opened his eyes and a fuzzy silhouette slowly came into focus as it wormed its way to his mind.

“Drostan!”

Another figure stood behind her, in its hands were something that glinted maliciously against the sunlight. He did not waste another moment to think as his primal instincts kicked in. Immediately, he lurched forward and threw himself on top of Luina before rolling away just in time before the soldier swung his giant sword against the ground. Powders of ice flew away as Luina shrieked in surprise.

“Where are the others?” Drostan clicked back into immediate awareness as he rose cautiously to his feet, watching their tall enemy whirling his sword menacingly before stopping with a come-hither pose.

“Galvus and Morschell are protecting Scott,” she explained breathlessly drawing out her twin daggers from their crossed hilts at the small of her back, “I need to merge his soul to his body while there’s time left--”

“Go!” Drostan commanded her as he reached for his sword, thankful that it had not left his hilt. He merely glanced back to watch her slice her way through a gap between two soldiers towards the center of the small strip of land that he succeeded in landing on. Truth be told, there were two unconscious Scott lying side by side with Galvus swinging his heavy sword around and Morschell twirling his long bow around to retaliate attacks and deliver impressive blows--making use of his absence of arrows.

A full second had gone by before Drostan managed to dodge a diagonal slice. He began parrying blows with this skilled soldier. If only he could remove their mask then maybe he can gain the upperhand of identification. Years of socializing with everyone in the Dragoneer Society had been an advantage for him--the thick blade swung downwards after he found himself cornered against the mountain’s rocky wall. He readjusted his footing and blocked the blade with the flat of his, supporting the metal with his palm.

“Who are you?” Drostan demanded, his muscles began spasming. The effects of their emergency landing moments ago were taking a toll on him. He was not prepared to fight, but then again, years of exposure and experience from wars still preserved his vigilance and vitality.

He stared at the generic helmet, searching for hints of a Kingdom’s accent. It was plain and smooth with rectangle slits for vision and breathing. Had he been in another situation, he would have laughed at the helmet as it reminded him of a sewing thimble. Lactic acid began hacking through his muscles before he heaved once and used the wall behind him as leverage. Kicking off, he pushed his enemy forward, swung his sword so that the soldier let go of his before twisting it so that the hilt kissed the lid of his enemy’s helmet.

Taking advantage of a Dragoneer’s speed, time slowed down as he revealed hints of a thick brown beard. His eyes widened in anticipation before recoiling when the falling soldier drew out a knife to aim for the side of his chest. With agility on his side, he kicked off his enemy's chest and flipped in the air taking the time to slice another soldier’s neck clean through before landing.

To be able to react that quickly, this soldier must be on a higher tier. Either he served a Veteran Dragoneer or he was a Dragoneer himself. From his peripheral vision, he quickly assessed their situation. Excluding the soldier that died by his sword and the one that he was fighting against now, there were six more trying to make their way past Galvus, Morschell and Luina to get to Scott. For a group of novices that were brutally trained under his watch weeks ago, he was quite relieved and impressed that they were still alive. For now.