Chapter One- Recon

   The sun setting caused the sky to change colour from deep blue to ribbons of oranges and pink that started to peek out from behind the gray clouds, a bright contrast to the previously darkened landscape. A slight breeze shifted the trees leaves and ripples appeared on the waters of the crystal lake as the last few drops of iced rain fell from the sky, ending the shower.
   From underneath a large apple tree, a young man moved out from the shelter to look up at the now separated clouds which reminded him of clump pillow stuffing.
  “That shower came on fast” he said wiping some water from his forehead. His shoulder length black hair was tied back in a pony tail, but a few strands had come astray from the bunch and flicked into his face with the aid of the light wind. His eyes, a brilliant and unusual red, searched the area for movement.
   With a twist of his hips he spun to his left after a sound of crunching leaves caught his attention.
   As an instant reaction He reached for the pistols that were attached to his belt for protection. The smooth black handle of the firearm rubbed against the palms of his hand as he readied his stance.  The man gave a sigh of relief when the cause of the disturbance bounded out from behind a bush. The rabbit stopped and stared at him before it fled into a nearby bush, in the opposite direction to hence it had come, just a rush of brown fur.
   As he dropped his hands to his waist a growling echoed from the pit of his stomach making it evident that he needed food.
  “Great. I don’t have the supplies pack,” he said to himself as he patted his jacket and pants pockets for anything edible. The rumbling from his stomach this time sounded as if it was swearing at him, forming words that sounded like a person speaking through a cushion. As he looked around he noticed the amount of rotten red fruit that littered the ground. Smartly, he looked up.
“Ah, apples. I guess they’ll have to do.”  
  On the toes of his boots he reached for an apple from the branches above him, plucking the reddest and shiniest that was on the lowest branches. Apple in hand, he crouched down, using the tree base for balance and buffered the surface of the fruit on the arm of his military jacket. He bit into the white flesh, its ripe flavour satisfying his hunger. Even though, the taste was a bit sweeter than what he preferred, he consumed the rest of the apple making sure the juice didn’t drip down his chin onto his uniform.
   The dignified military uniform was an arrangement of red and black colour with six medium sized gold buttons that adorned the front. The attire was a black, mid-length jacket with a band of red around each arm and cuff. The trousers, completely black, had multiple pockets for storage, held up by a black leather belt. In all normality, military bric-a-brac, including grenades and small land mines, would usually be found in a campaign soldier’s pockets but not this man’s trouser pockets. In fact, all that would be found in his pants would be a tarnished, plain, silver lighter and a packet of cigarettes.
   A triangle shaped army emblem was stitched to the right shoulder of his jacket which was a centred crescent moon with black and red bars behind it. On his opposite shoulder was a red patch stitched upon it in black, was the word ‘King’ in bold letters, his last name. Mid-calf, black boots that completed the outfit were half hidden behind his trousers and were caked with mud and grass.
   King threw the apple remains into a nearby bush and picked up a leaf that was at his feet, twirling it in his fingers in an attempt to amuse himself as he stood up straight and leant his right shoulder against the tree trunk.
  “I wish those slackers would hurry up,” he said bitterly, flicking the leaf into the air before tapping his foot impatiently.
   “Sir!” a voice yelled to the west of him that was familiar and very close by.
   “Orlen?” King called back stepping out from the apple tree, “about bloody time.”
Moments later a dark skinned man emerged from the brush panting and sweating. This man was taller and considerably more masculine then ‘King’ and had no hair on his shaven head, the skin shining from sweat. A dark grey eye patch covered the right side of his face where his eye used to be. A silver sword sheath hung at his side, the handle of the weapon the shape of a dragon’s head with etching its gold detailing
Orlen wore a uniform extremely similar to the man standing in front of him, but with two major exceptions. Firstly, it was all black and secondly it had Delinko in place of King on the name embroidery.
  “You’re late,” King said folding his arms.
  “Sorry General,” Orlen said, bending over and breathing heavily, “I got caught in a fight.” At this General King’s eyes opened widely in disbelief.
  “What?!” The General said grabbing his comrade by the collar, “Who? Where?!”
  “Woh! Dark, Calm down dammit!” Orlen said, “It was only two wandering Lion warriors from the east. They ran off after I kicked their feline butts.”
Comparing Orlen’s height and weight to Dark’s, he was doing a remarkably good job at keeping the soldier subdued. Dark let go of his comrade’s collar and rolled his eyes.
  “Nothing you can’t handle,” he said looking up at Orlen, “don’t get me worked up like that, this recon mission has made me jum--.”
Dark paused.
  Orlen noticed his friend’s attention dart to a nearby bush and turned his own gaze in the same direction. Dark unlatched the hook on his holster and pulled one of his hand pistols from his belt, gripping it tightly with both hands.
  “What’s wrong?”
  “Quiet,” Dark hissed putting a finger to his lips, as he started to approach the bush slowly. Orlen pulled out the sword from the holder via the dragon handle revealing the silver and black etched blade, following after Dark, the sword tight in his grip. The bush rustled again, the branches separated revealing the top of someone’s head, blonde hair sticking up from the cover of the leaves.
   He pointed to Orlen with his pistol and then to the bush. Orlen understood the order and nodded tightening his grip on the sword. With a step he shifted his weight onto his front leg, propelling his frame forwards with great force, the blade slicing into the bush. He pulled it out just as quickly as he had attacked and examined it.
   “Not like you to miss, Orlen,” Dark said, noticing the lack of blood on the sword.
   “You nearly killed me!” a distressed voice screamed from the bush, a mid height boy standing up.
  “Llyod!” Dark and Orlen yelled in unison, Dark angrily and Orlen relieved.
  Lloyd was wearing the same attire as Orlen, but significantly smaller in size, since he was half his girth and a couple of heads shorter.
  The blonde was clearly scared by the fact that he was nearly a kebab, his breathing rushed and small beads of sweat on his forehead. He gripped his chest with his left hand completely frozen to the spot.
  “Why were you hiding?” Dark asked angrily, “Why? When I was here the whole time?”
  Lloyd’s yellow eyes trailed away Dark’s crimson ones as he relaxed his thin frame.
  “Uh….” Lloyd squeaked, “Well...”
  “Orlen could of killed you!” Dark yelled and Lloyd shrugged.
  “I had sentry duty late last night. I was sleepy.”
  Orlen slapped a hand to his forehead in a cartoony fashion as Dark rolled his eyes. Lloyd smiled innocently and folded his arms.
  Lloyd was of medium height and very thin. His large ears were hidden by his thick fringe which complimented his short face. His resemblance to a humanoid monkey was uncanny which helped with that branding of his nickname, Monkey.
  Orlen slapped Llyod on the back playfully and said through a laugh “Come on Monkey, get with the program.”
  When meeting someone for the first time, his likeliness of a monkey would be the first thing they noticed. Secondly, after getting to know him, his skilfulness and dexterity to scale walls and trees with ease would back up that thought.
  Monkey giggled childishly not noticing that Orlen had bent down. With one swift movement Orlen picked Monkey up by the ankles, dangling him by his feet. Dark rubbed his left temple with the index finger of his right hand.
  ‘What did I do to deserve these children?’
  “What the hell?  What’s this for?!” Lloyd yelled clawing at Orlen’s hand, “Let me go, now!”
  Orlen shrugged and let go of the soldier’s ankles, causing Monkey to land on his face in the mud. Dark chuckled as Monkey stood up, clutching his face.
  “What was that for?!” Monkey said in anger, poking Orlen in the chest. Orlen frowned as Monkey frantically wiped the wet mud from his face with the back of his hand.  
  “We could of killed you, you blonde idiot. I was just making sure your head was on tight.”
“Who are you calling an idiot?!”
  “My point exactly.”
  At that instant Dark stepped away from the two, taking a cigarette from his pocket and putting it to his lips, not in the mood for refereeing a battle of the nitwits.
  “Well at least I’m not bald.”
  “I shave my own head,” Orlen said rubbing the top of his head, “the girl’s dig it.”
  “What a shame you are a fairy then,” Monkey said, trying to sound smart, “the men think it’s weird.”
  “You’re in trouble now Monkey,” Dark sighed, flicking the lid up on his silver lighter.
  “Huh?” Monkey said tilting his head as Orlen dived at him, pressing his large hands around Monkey’s small throat.
  “I’m not gay you blonde moron!” Orlen yelled tightening his grip as Monkey frantically struggled to breathe. Dark, with one sigh replaced the lighter and unlit cigarette in his pocket before rolling the sleeves of his jacket halfway up his lower arm.
  “Uh…uh…,” Monkey squeaked trying to release the large vice-like hands from around his throat. Dark turned away, shaking his head as Monkey kicked Orlen in the leg to no prevail.
  “Orlen…can’t breathe!” he squeaked turning blue.
  “That’s the idea,” Orlen laughed. Dark by this time was losing his patience.
  “I’d stop if I were you two,” he muttered, “I won’t hold back.”
  The squabbling soldiers ignored his warning and continued their fighting. Dark sighed once again as he took a pistol from his belt and aimed it at the feet of his comrades. With loud blasts He shot two bullets into the ground at their feet, causing Orlen to lose his grip on Monkey. Their mediator smirked and turned to face them.
  “Now, what is rule thirty-nine of the Demonian army battalion?” Dark asked, raising an eyebrow and in a somewhat soft tone as he replaced his weapon in the leather holster.
  Monkey, who was on the ground, rubbing his neck gingerly taking in short breaths, He looked up at his attacker with an evil glare, Orlen’s finger imprints red on his skin.
  “Well?” Dark said calmly, causing Orlen and Monkey to look at each other in question of Dark’s unusually calm pitch.
  “Not to fight, unless in battle situations,” they mumbled together, keeping their gaze from colliding with the General’s.
“Exactly…,” Dark said, putting his hands on his hips, voice back to its harsh self, “now, apologise.”
  “Sorry sir,” Orlen and Monkey both mumbled in unison.
  “What?” Dark asked cupping around his ear with his hand, “I didn’t hear you.”
  “Sorry sir,” the slightly stunned soldiers mumbled a little louder.
  “What?!” Dark yelled stamping his foot.
  “Sorry sir!”
  “That’s better,” Dark said and smiled, “don’t let it happen again or next time it will be your leg instead of the ground.”
  “Yes sir,” Orlen said giving a short bow.
  “Yes sir,” Monkey replied grabbing Orlen’s arm to help himself up. Orlen took a step backwards purposefully and caused Monkey to fall back to the ground.
  “Hey..?!” Monkey yelled waving his fist.
  “Oh for god’s sake!” Dark yelled pulling the pistol from the holster with lighting speed and pressing it to Monkey’s forehead, “Do you want me to shoot you?”
  “N-no sir,” Monkey answered cowardly looking up at the cold metal barrel that was pressed against his head. Dark lowered his weapon and returned his pistol to the holster.
  Monkey got to his feet quickly.
  The grey clouds by this time had completely disappeared and the sun had set causing a blanket of darkness over the area. The moon, the only light in the sky, its twin swimming the surface of the lake.
  Orlen snickered as he walked over to the water edge and squatted down, cupping some cold water in his hands.
  Dark slapped Monkey playfully around the head and looked around as Monkey rubbed his hind-quarters.
  “We better make camp,” Monkey said sitting next to Orlen who was sipping the water from his cupped hands.
  “Yeah,” Dark agreed sitting near the base of a tree, leaning against the trunk, “I’ll make a fire. You two pitch the tents.”
  Monkey and Orlen nodded in agreement before unzipping the khakis tent bags that were hidden in the bush where Monkey had been napping.
           ****
  The main hallway of the army barracks was empty, only a few officials could be seen walking through carrying various items and documents. Their footsteps echoing as the heels of their shoes trod onto the marble slated floor.
   The many doors that were along the corridor led to various types of rooms, including training and office quarters, all named by a silver plated signs embossed with block text. At the end of the elongated corridor was a room, with a large silver dragon spread across the double oak doors, ‘Admiral Jay Signalty’ engraved into the wood and filled with gold paint.
   In this room, a stout man was sitting behind his black stained, pine desk, which was covered in papers. He scratched his balding head, ruffling what remained of his dark brown hair.
  “Damn soldier reports!” he yelled slamming his fists on the desk, “the general’s supposed to do this. What I would give for the days back on the sea.”
  After being relieved of his admiral duties due to a sudden intolerance of ships in the way of seasickness every time he boarded, Jay had been put in charge of upholding the barrack’s orderlies by overseeing all events, training, history documents and registrations.  
  He looked over the papers with his dark green eyes with a look of resentment as he scribbled in details on his pad.
  Jay’s ears pricked to a faint knock on his office door.
  “Enter,” he said placing a few sheets into the top drawer of his desk, throwing a heavy stapler on top of them before slamming the drawer shut.
  The doors to the admiral’s office opened slightly to reveal a young looking girl poking her head in through the gap.
  “Can I come in?” she asked in a soft and fragile voice, tucking a bunch of her sleek brown hair behind her ear.
  “Ah Clara!” Jay exclaimed happily at the sight of her, “Just the person I wanted to see.”
  “Hi sir,” Clara greeted walking in through the door and closing it behind her. In her thin arms she was holding blue folders of various sizes.
  Admiral Jay stood up and walked around his desk to stand in front of the small framed girl whose hair tied in a loose braid reached her lower back. The admiral was of medium height and his head was out of proportion to his body, looking slightly too bulky, stubble lining his chin.
  “Have you filed those papers yet?” he said putting his hands on the short girl’s shoulders, “you know the one’s that are long overdue?”
  “Uh…” Clara squeaked looking to the side, “you know how I needed to get into General Dark’s office?”
  “Yes.”
  “Well uh…” Clara said with a sigh, “It’s locked.”
  “So?” Jay said, raising an eyebrow and dropping his hands to his sides.
   Clara smiled up at him nervously before whispering, “He is the only one with the keys.”
  Admiral Jay’s right eye twitched, a habit he had developed at a young age when he became infuriated. Clara laughed nervously and backed out the door, placing the folders she was carrying on a wicker chair near the door. She left the admiral standing in the middle of the room cursing the general’s name. As Clara closed the door to his office, the latch locking with a small click, a loud scream of frustration from inside the room shook the framed paintings on either side of the solid doors. Clara walked away from the room, shaking her head with a small, innocent giggle.
   “Boy. Is he in trouble,” she said, soon becoming saddened by her thoughts, “if he comes back alive that is.”