Dystopia: Revival- PRIVATE ROLEPLAY

Chapter 4 ii- GENERALly Visiting- Short Story

Halden and Dale remained in an air of awkward tension as the night dragged on, ignorant to the gaiety of those in the ballroom as they "mourned" the Chain of Bodies; ignorant to the commotion going on near the East Wing; and straying off from unnecessary conversation as they kept their focus on their task.

That was not completely true in relation to both students. Halden was, indeed, attentive to their surroundings, though not having anything to be attentive of. Dale, having the attention span of a goldfish-- as Hal had mentally noted during his combat training sessions with the First Graders-- would puff out her cheeks in a sign of utter boredom, kick non-existent gravel with the heel of her boot, shift her stance, and then as though remembering she has a serious task at hand, forces herself to fixate her attention to the school's extrinsic surroundings.

It was almost like torture for Dale. She had to focus on the outside, then at the garden... outside... then garden... then back outside. She wondered, as she sneaked a sideways glance at her partner, how Halden can manage to focus, uninterrupted and undisturbed, for such a long time without ripping his hair out.

Heavy footsteps could be heard outside the gate, approaching the two guards' post. The sound insinuated a group of rapid and cautious visitors. Dale and Halden both knew they were unexpected.

The two turned their attention to the gate, alert and studious, arms reaching over their shoulders for their swords. Dale let go of her antecedent negligence and became meticulous, looking towards Halden for some kind of explanation.

Halden looked over and gave a reassuring nod, his sword now in hand, and looked back at the gate, eyes narrowed.

Silhouettes began to appear in the dim lighting.

They finally made it to the gate; what seems to be a clan of soldiers, divulging their identity to the unsettled students. About half a dozen of them, both men and women, uniformed in black amethyst embellished gear, bringing with them an air of superiority. In the midst of them, head held high in precedence as though he was the leader, was a silver-haired, slightly-smirking man. He seemed middle-aged, and even with the gate between the visitors and the guards, he towered over them.

He would pass as a threat, however he didn't seem to be carrying any weapons. On top of that, there was a blooming regality in his stance.

Dale unsheathed her sword, holding the hilt tightly in both hands. Halden, who had his sword raised for safeguarding, slowly lowered his arms and relaxed his stance, his gaze still hard and fixed on the man.

"General Scarsguard," he breathed out in recognition.

The man nodded at him, a glint of smugness in his eyes. "Evening, Pr--" he began, but cut himself short due to the urgency in Hal's gaze and the small shake of his head. The man-- Scarsguard-- shifted his sight to the other guard, an unrecognisable, and hence, unimportant girl. "Halden," he corrected, looking back at Halden.

"Wait, who are you?" Dale finally spoke up, confused and ignorant. "You can't be here."

Scarsguard quirked an eyebrow. "Watch who you are talking to. And lower your sword. It's not nice to wave your weapons at an unarmed visitor, yes?"

"We aren't expecting anybody, sir. You have to turn around and leave," Dale said, barely able to stop her hands from shaking. She was bewildered but determined, but something in the way the man and Halden looked at each other bemused her even more.

The leader looked back over at Halden, eyebrow still raised in question.

Halden gave a glance at Dale, shook his head with a sigh and said, "Excuse her, please, General. She is new and inexperienced."