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War on the Wind - (Closed)

Chapter 1

Old and crumbling, the stone wall provided little cover for Robert and his squad. Breathing hard, he thought of how General Peter had fallen, swords piercing his chest; he'd chosen to fight and hold the enemy back for the others to retreat, to regroup with the main force. Units broke out in a dead run for shelter, somewhere to conceal themselves from the enemy. His unit, Falcon, had been amongst them. Screams had erupted as the enemy swooped down, plucking men from the ground to lead them to a fall that one was unlikely to survive. Many were too eager to hide, causing their own downfall as the enemy easily spotted them and flew amongst their unit, weapons drawn, slicing through flesh and bone. Several times Robert had found himself cursing the Captains, for many seemed ill equipped with the knowledge or determination that would see their subordinates through the retreat. In fact, they had lacked these things; their units now lifeless on the surface of the dirt.

A shiver ran through him, but he shrugged it off. He could not, would not, deny he was afraid of them. They possessed features that were disastrous to face in battle, though not always so. Fear did not blind his judgement however. Nor did it sway his actions. Because of this, he was a capable leader. For this, Falcon had survived, still undetected. But how long could things continue this way. Subconsciously he focused on a violet feather that rested beside his boot as the question ran through his mind.

A noise to his side made him clutch the hilt of his dagger. One of his men winced apologetically. It was Joel. Part of the wall had just toppled from the young man's shift in weight. Shooting a look to the sky, he exhaled with relief, not realising he'd been holding his breath since part of the wall had fallen. There was nothing in the sky now as far as he could see, though he dared not move his squad yet. His eyes roamed amongst the members of Falcon, seven who were male and three female. They wore bruises and scuff marks upon their exposed flesh. There was no doubt that they held more hidden beneath their cotton clothing and leather jerkins, but no serious harm had come to them. Eyes meeting with William's he smiled, receiving a raised eyebrow in response. This person was his most trusted. His right hand man.

Allowing his gaze to roam more, he followed the cut out of the old wall that would have closed in a rectangle if not for time playing more harshly with the northern side. This could have been a home once, he thought to himself. Only those of high standing had homes built of stone, so the fact it had no inner walls suggested it to be more of a storage house of some kind, though still for someone of high ranking. But it was the mere fact it was now a ruin, a symbol of the ongoing war, that gripped him.

Cautiously, he peeked his head above the wall line. To his relief all he found was two squads laying low behind another similar ruin. It was an indicator on how focused he'd been on the sky. If it had been an enemy unit, he knew his squad would have been an easy target for a surprise attack. Nothing really surprised him anymore though; too much had already happened. Focusing on the ally squad, he awaited one to peer in his direction. None did. Like he had been, they were absorbed in watching the sky. He needed their attention. Glancing down and scanning the ground, he spied a pebble. Wondering if it was a silly idea or not, he picked it up, hoped for them not to react badly, and threw it. The stone hit one of the warriors on the leg causing him to shoot a fierce look in its direction, sword half drawn. Robert waved his hand slowly and was pleased to see that the man had seen him and now informed who Robert guessed to be one of the Captains. They acknowledged his presence. Good. With a quick look at the skies, he turned to update Falcon.

"There's two squads just in front of us," he started, letting himself wear a brief smile as he saw the elation in his members' faces. "I'm going to signal them to move here in a minute. Once they start moving, maybe before, we could find ourselves swarmed by the enemy. Keep eyes sharp, ears keen, and hands on hilts. You've all been trained to use those alesensis, I trained you myself. If we have the misfortune of finding ourselves amongst our foe, make sure you show them just how deadly it is."

After that, Robert rechecked the skies and beckoned the squads over with his left hand. His right now held the hilt of his own alesensis, a two handed sword he'd had smithed for him after he'd done a quick sketch. Based off a claymore, its only difference was the guard, which only extended up to a centimetre on either side of the blade's base. It was shaped as a falcon's head, beak open, clenching the edges of the blade. The pommel was spherical, holding a smoothed stone of no value. When he'd first gazed at the finished weapon, the first of its make, he could find no more words to describe it than majestic. Now each of his squad members wielded one. Only his squad, never anyone else.

The two squads moved one at a time in the hope that the movement of a single person would go unnoticed as opposed to the movement of several. Five times a caw from a passing crow caused everyone to stop dead, motionless, till they were sure no enemies were near. Like this, the two squads joined Falcon's side.

Time passed slowly as the three squads abstained from talking or further movement to make sure they hadn't been seen. It soon became clear they hadn't, and Robert spoke to the two Captains, their names Gregory and Ariel. Within little time they formulated a plan of action. They would back track to Kieshan Valley and head along the trail through Kieshan Gorge. If they made haste, they would reach Fort Agnil by tomorrow. Robert knew they couldn't move at night in such low visibility, especially since tiring themselves out would leave them easy pickings for the enemy, so it was likely the journey would take two days, because he had no intentions of that.

"We'll move out when the sun is at its peak. The Volucris don't fly then. They fear the heat will scold them more fiercely, so instead they walk well into the afternoon. That's our best bet at staying undetected," he announced, now nominated as the overall leader. "We'll look for others as we go, though I saw many fall during the retreat..." A solemn expression of loss passed over all present. Many of those who'd fallen had served under the General for years, being well known and liked amongst the others. It would be a day of grievance, but Robert knew survival must come first. He knew others had died to allow others, though it seemed few, to survive. He hardened his face and steeled his resolve. It was time to head out.

Quickly, he split Falcon into two squads of five, he led the first and William led the second. Leaving the sorting of their own squads to the two captains there was soon six squads of five. Robert sorted their order then explained what was to happen.

"I'll send William's squad out first, then I'll count to ten before the next squad follows. I'll keep repeating this till we've all left." The squads acknowledged and he continued in a hushed but clear voice, "Once you reach Kieshan Valley, William, I want you to find a good spot to wait. You'll need to alert each squad to where you are when they get close, then get them down low. I don't want anyone getting killed and no one gets seen! Got that?!" Once again everyone acknowledged him and he couldn't help wonder if being the nominated leader would turn out to be a bad thing. He now had two more squads beside Falcon as his responsibility.

Anxious to get moving before the enemy could find them there, Robert, and almost every person present, continuously checked the sky, though the suns position was easily judged by which side of the body felt hottest under its rays. At midday Robert watched William's squad depart, crouched at first, then more upright as they advanced further and picked up the pace. A count to ten saw Ariel's squad next, and it continued till Roberts squad was the only one who remained. Eight... Nine... Ten. Robert clutched the hilt of his dagger as he nodded to his team then began a brisk walk to the next ruin, keeping as low as he could without kneeling or crawling.

Dust blew up under their feet as they made their way from one ruin to another. The noon sun blazed with renewed vigour, already Robert's brow was drenched with sweat. Crows gathered together around a body eating their fill caught his eyes. Barely needing to alter his course, he headed towards them. Meal disturbed, the crows took to the air as Robert drew near, revealing their feast as they went.

On the ground, decapitated, bite ridden, in a pool of drying blood and flecks of remaining innards, was the body. Violet hair, now matted, still flowed from the head, skin of a urinal colour. The eye sockets were empty, the possessions they held stolen by scavengers. Trickles of dried blood running from the eye socket down the side of the face gave the impression of crimson tears. A black beetle moved inside the empty spheres and Robert quickly redirected his eyes. Feathers of the same colour as the hair were scattered around. It eventually led to two large bird like wings that now lay separate to the rest of the body, some of the violet feathers appearing more maroon, dyed with the crimson liquid that had seeped through where the skin had been torn. A Volucris. She had had what looked to be a cruel death. Even they were not safe from the Venator that roam the land.

"Looks quite recent," observed Izaac as he skirted along the outside of the pool of blood.

"It's a good thing though!" stated Christian, "We'd of run into her otherwise."

Robert didn't look round as he spoke his warning in a voice that revealed its owner was on high alert. "It means we've got more to worry about than just them now!" No one replied, now understanding the increased danger, their eyes scanning not only for winged beings, but now the beasts that stalked the land too.
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