The last of the Dragons-Set 2

223

Noah took in a deep breath as he relaxed next to me. He shut his eyes tight, before slowly opening them again. I could tell that the memories flooding his mind were things that he would rather put behind him. I debated telling him not to bother talking about it, but I was intrigued to find out more about where these people, and those who were here before them came from. Knowing just a little bit more could possibly shine light on a way to bring them to their knees, begging for mercy.

"I don't remember a lot from my early years, but I still remember a fair bit. My family was originally following the only group of the nine that wanted nothing to do with the war, and only ever engaged in fighting when they were attack. The only time we would ever go on the offensive was when it was judged that there was a threat. We were to unorganised to put up a good defence against our adversaries, so we only fought when we needed to. We had no leader. All any of us were was a bunch of people who couldn't decide which group to follow, so we banded together to form our own. We wanted nothing but peace and freedom. And we fought for freedom as hard as we could. After the Rusino's, our group was the largest. The second largest of the nine." He said.

He then paused.

"Well... What was your groups name?" I asked hesitantly, trying not to upset him.

He sighed.

"Since we had no leader, and no body specific to follow, we had no following name. We were simply known as the freedom group. Fighting for nothing but freedom and peace. Not control like the others." He replied.

I pondered for a moment.

"Are they still around?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Yes. And they're in force. But again, with no leader, and no clear access to resources, not everyone has adequate weapons. While some have guns, others have nothing but swords. We claimed a space down to the south of our home land, on the coast. Unlike the other groups, which eagerly charge into battle with each other regardless of the location, our sector is heavily guarded at all times. It's much farther south than most of the fighting, so battle rarely took place on our claimed land. Between us ,and the rest of the groups, is a rather wide forest. The last of the natural land that has yet to be destroyed by the war, and we heavily defended it. The rest of our home land has been torn apart by the war. Generations ago, beautiful cities that stretched across most of our home land, but now, they've all but crumbled, replaced by what ever could be built to house the surviving women and children as the men engaged in the fighting. It's mostly just a brutal, endless battle between the groups, wherever they can engage each other. The only place to go for safety is the sector of land that our group holds, and fiercely defends. The rest of it is just.... Just miserable. I wish I could have done more to end it. I've seen women and children slaughtered for following a different group, even though women and children never engage in battle with soldiers. It makes my blood boil with anger every time I think about what once was, and what could have been." He said as he ran out of breath.

A long pause fell between us, as I was still processing everything that he had just told me. I tried to visualise the land he had described. A land mostly destroyed by war, with only a small portion of it being kept peaceful by a group wanting nothing but happiness and peace. Then I thought to ask another question.

"How did you end up here?" I asked.

He sighed.

"I went into battle for the first time along side my father, fighting against a stray group of soldiers one of our scouts had spotted to close to our sector for our comfort, so we went out to engage them. We set out with maybe three-hundred men, against a small group of maybe one-hundred Rusino soldiers spotted not far from what we considered our border Like I said before, weapons were either made by us, or scavenged from previous fights, so while some of us had guns, including my father, many others, like myself, had nothing more than blunt objects as weapons. We rode out on horse back, and walking on foot. As we crested a small hill, expecting to see wide open space with the forest backing it. But instead, we were greeted by the stray group of soldiers. To this day, I don't know why they were there. Certainly not to attack us, not with that small of a group. We charged at them with the weapons that we had, but most of us were cut down by gunfire before getting close. I vividly remember my dad firing off the last of his shots, before pulling a blade from his pocket and engaging in hand to hand combat with five soldiers. He managed to get his blade into two of them, killing them both, before a third shot him in the back, killing him instantly. I stumbled back at the sight of my father falling to the ground, as I felt hands wrap around my throat, and pull me to the ground. The offensive defence had quickly turned against us, with most of us that had gone to engage them being killed, with the few who survived being captured, including me." He said.

I didn't know what to say. I could relate to everything he had said. Losing a family member brought me back to the death of my parents, and the death of my sister. Being captured reminded me of the first time I ended up being taken by them and locked in a cage. I felt his pain, and I felt his desire for revenge.

The two of us sat in silence for a few minutes. I shut my eyes and tried to take myself high into the sky, atop my dragon, when suddenly, I heard the gate to our cell open. I opened my eyes to see three soldiers, all with whips and rods.

"Didn't think you were getting off that easy, did you bitch?" One soldier said.