The Full Blood Reds Story

A gory story, teens or mature kids only!

Prologue

I watched as my father fought for his life. The writhing scar on my forearm is what they wanted. They wanted to peel it off and stab me.  Even today, I can still hear the cry of agony that my mother yelped.

The Blood Reds jabbed father in the heart with the Blood Blade, killing him instantly and sending a shot of pain through me from his weeping.

He was dead, and I was living on. Even being a minute old, I could sense my father’s pain and sorrow. They left him there, in the dust, and stampeded off into the night, and were never found again.

But that was before the Blood days came, the days when the Blood Reds made their comeback on me.

 

Chapter 1:

Gunshots rang out in the humid air, sparks flew throughout the moonlit night. Blood splattered down the sides of houses and down on bodies. I didn’t know what they wanted, what they needed. Was it me? The boy with the scar? Or Queen Yasmin? The one that rules us all?

I hid behind a birch tree in the forest, my left ear ringing from one too many gunshots I had heard. I shook like a leaf even though it was clearly summer.

Xavier’s face flashed in moonlight, fangs glowing. His gaze points in a sharp direction at me. I rustled the leaves. Gunshots rang a split second later. I made a run for it, to the stream where I could swim and be safe.

Xavier, king of the Blood Reds, was at my back. His dirty stench of blood chimed in with the smell of sweat and forestry.

What could they want from a poor land in the middle of the ocean?

I nosedived for the water, and swam towards the ocean shore, where I could be safe from their wretched attacks.

Seeing I had run out of air, I bobbed up to the surface for a split second then dove down again.

They were on to me. They were at my back. But I knew they couldn’t swim, so seashore would be a safe place for me.

When I finally reached shore, they were gone. Gone in the midst of the war that raged throughout the land.

The Blood Reds invaded the land a decade or so back. Then, they weren’t scheduled for return, but, they were found just a few months ago, killing, destroying, frightening.

 

I stayed on the seashore until no more gunshots could be heard and no more sparks flew. I sprinted back to town to see what remained of it.

When I crossed the city gates, all that I saw was miles and miles of rubble and smoke. Bodies lay on the ground and blood pooled at my feet. Broken guns lay by the wounded.

I knelt down by a motionless, bloody figure I knew well. Mother. Mother was dead.

Tears began to stream down my face as I realized what they had done. Her body was bloody and bruised, and her flesh was scraped and torn. I put my head in my hands and didn’t say a word until sadness took over my life because Mother was gone, and I was alone. Alone to face my death.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 

A day later, I decided that I wanted to be in the Cardathian Army. I slipped across the streets and down alleys until I reached the Military Base.

At the gate, my eyes nearly jumped out of my head. There was a female warrior, with beautiful, flowing blond hair and sea-blue eyes. Instantly, I was heartsick.

“Name?” she asked.

“Adrian Elms,” I replied, gazing at her.

“You’re not on the Military List. You new?”

“Uh…..yeah.”

“Come then. The general will need to see you,” she gawked.

We walked down a maze of hallways and through secret tunnel doors. Finally, we came out of the tunnels and we trotted to the general’s.

“Sir!” said the girl.

“Yes, lieutenant?”

“Newcomer.”

 “I see. Come then, let us test your abilities,” the general boomed.

 They walked down a maze of hallways until they reached a room that was dimly lit by a kerosene lamp and weapons lined the walls. Targets were set up as well as mannequins.

 “Alright, have you had any experience with guns?” the general asked, lifting a rifle off the wall as he spoke. The rifle was green and had a leather strap. It looked quite lethal.

“Once or twice, not often,” I replied sternly.

 “Well, let’s see what you’ve got. Shoot it right there,” the general pointed towards the dummy’s chest, where a red spot was painted to show that’s where you were supposed to try and get it.

 I raised the gun up to my eye and spied through the aiming hole. I let a loud blast through the room as I astonishingly hit the middle circle. I pulled the trigger a few more times, then the general held up his hand and clapped. “Welcome, lieutenant,” he said.

 I bowed and saluted. The general gestured me out of the room. I clambered out of the room, still stunned by my dumbfounding appearance.

The general walked briskly through the halls of bustling men and women in uniform with guns at their sides. Silently, my mind flashed back to the Blood Reds, their fangs and their outrageous stench of blood and sweat. I wondered if I was what they had come for, and if that’s why they were at my tail.

 I turned my thoughts around and shook my head. The general walked me into a room lined with weaponry and soldiers at a long, narrow conference table. The room was dark but the glow of warm sunlight cracked through windows.

 I saw a uniform that must be mine on a hanger on a door. In had gold cuffs and it was midnight black, it smelled of war and blood. Blood. Just the word made me shiver and remind me of the Blood Red’s hissing voice and bloody stench.

 It had a badge on it indicating that I was a lieutenant, it had a cap that was white with a red feather sticking out of it. I loved it.

 “This is your suit. Wear it. It is what you will wear permanently,” he said.

“Alright. Can I put it on?”

“Yes, yes,” said the general.

I changed quickly and reported for duty directly after that in the general’s office.

“Well, mate, we need you to help us fend off the Blood Reds, and you bear the scar that everyone calls a curse, but I call a wonder. They say if you learn how to use it, you can control magic. Probably a myth, but if it is true, I would like you to figure out how to use the magic and execute it,” the general said, pacing the room.

 “Okay,” I said.

 “Great. You will lead us into battle with the Blood Reds, and you will help us at any costs. Agreed?”

 “Yes sir!”

 “If you die, we will grieve you. So keep safe and learn defense. And here,” he paused, grabbing a rifle from the wall, a midnight black one. “is your gun. My specialty. I hope she’s in good hands.”

 “She is, sir. Trust me,” I gawked, staring blankly at the gun in my hands, it’s body so black and sleek.

 I skid through the halls and out to town where the general had ordered me to look for injustice. Gun over my shoulder, I walked the streets.

 At the market, I saw a young man with a handsome face, but he wore a hooded cloak and he had cold, gray eyes. The man stared and cursed at me, then, he tapped his blade two times and gave it a swoosh.

 I gasped. The signal he had just done meant he was Elven, something our religion in Cardathia didn’t appreciate. I didn’t sprint after him, or blast him with my gun, I just stood there, in shock and awe.

For some reason, I felt that man had something to do with my life, but I just couldn’t figure out what. Tensely, I carried on, glancing over my shoulder just before the elf disappeared behind a house.

At midnight, I strode to the garden and found the young lady who had guarded the gate to the Military Base gazing at the stars in awe and wonder.

 “Oh, you’re here,” she said.

 “Yup.”

We stood in an everlasting silence, listening to the sea of tranquility form around us.

 The girl inched closer as she said, “What might be your name?”

 “Adrian,” I said, leaning on the fence.

 “Mine is Alex. Aren’t you the one that bears the scar?”

 “Yes,” I gawked.

“Oh.”

We stared at each other and inched closer and closer until we were close enough to kiss.

And kiss is exactly what we did.

Shafts of moonlight illuminated our faces as we kissed. It lasted a long moment until the sound of sirens and yelps rang out in the night.

We jerked from our soothing kiss and reloading our guns. As I drew closer, I saw flashing lights and blood.

Soldiers stood hunched with their guns poised around the incident. I saw a stretcher with the same Elven man that had been hiding in the alleys. I saw blood drip from his upper lip and a scar hollowed his chest.

 Alex and I drew closer, and began to approach the ambulance. “What the hell happened?” I asked.

“A man murdered this Elven man. We plan on keeping him alive, even though it is against our scriptures. Queen Yasmin’s orders,” said a medic.

 We just stood there after that, shock taken over our brains. When the ambulance and police drove off, and the soldiers retreated, Alex and I settled in for the night.

When I awoke, an array of violet, orange, and yellow splattered the dawn skies. I heard the yelps of the soldiers from training and combat, and knew I was to attend battle and training with them.

I yanked on my suit and grabbed my gun from beside my bed from where it had laid all night, then I marched out the door to attend combat.

I met up with the soldiers outside in the training field and got into my place just as the general walked by.

“Alright, mates. I want to see all of you sweating your butt off or else you get the whip!” he yelled.

 “Yes sir!” the soldiers and I said together.

 We scurried off and began our training. Rain thundered hard from the ground, making slippery mud puddles and making it harder for soldiers to maintain their training.

At noon we had lunch break. It wasn't your normal lunch break though, it was a challenge for survival. We trekked out into the forest and mountains, and shot down game, and brought it back within ten minutes or they would set off the smoke bomb.

 I barely made it out alive. It was the last ten seconds to catch game and I was sprinting back to camp. They soldiers behind me were fast, but not fast enough, I made it out with a mere 1 second to spare. The others, they fell into the heart of the bomb.

 After we caught the game, we ate only tidbits of it, and were challenged to not go starving.

It was midnight when the day ended. The horn blew from the watchtower, signaling us that the day was done, so every soldier slumped inside, shoulders hunched, sweat beading on their face, their uniform caked in mud.

 I couldn't sleep that night. My scar throbbed and burned with rage. I knew something was wrong. I grabbed my gun and hustled out the door, not making a sound.

 But I was greeted with a pack of hungry Wolviks, a wolf mixed with a viper.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

“Holy Heck,” I muttered. Their fangs dripped with a crimson blood, and their hair prickled. Their growl was a hiss combined with a yowl.

I slowly retreated.  Slower, Adrian. I said to myself.

They followed me. Closer, and closer, waiting for the strike. Suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps began to droll in my ears. I heard people saying, “I smell Wolvik Blood!” and “Let’s get Adrian!”

My senses were jolted out of sleep and I stayed where I was. My sense of speech must have really taken its toll, because before I knew it, out of my mouth came, “Help! Help! The Wolviks!” and then, that’s when they struck.

I felt them tear my flesh, pounce on my stomach, rip open my chest, and cut my head to bits. Darkness began to engulf the world as I held on the last shreds of life I could.

 The last thing I heard was a soldier saying, “He’s dead. Useless. Come on, Jerrid, we got to move!”

I blacked out seconds later.

 

I found myself in hospital weeks later. Weeks? No, days. No, months maybe? I didn’t know how long I had been dead for.

I was almost completely unaware of my surroundings. All I knew was that I was Adrian Elms, and that I had died and sent to a hospital.

An hour later, when my vision stopped being blurred, I saw I had pine needles jabbed into my arms, an air mask on, kerosene lamps lit the room. My gun was gone, my uniform had been removed, and I was in a cloak. I saw a doctor leaning over my chest with a pine needle, ready to stitch a scar, I guess.

 Other doctors pelted me with medicines and injections to make me fall asleep. When I woke up, I was weak, but I could move.

“You were so brave,” said a doctor moments after I had woke up.

 “Huh?” I replied, still groggy.

“You were ripped apart when we first saw you. Look at you now!”

The doctor gave me a mirror. I gasped and rubbed my face. The scar where the Wolviks had cut my head open was gone, the gash on my shoulder was no more, my chest was spotless. Only the scar I had held for years on my palm still remained.

I bolted upright. I realized who sent the Wolviks. The Blood Reds.

“I must go! They are on to me!” I said, jerking out the needles from my arm.

 “You can’t! You are not fit for combat!” ordered the doctor. He chased me down the hall.

I scurried out the door and darted to town. I did not report to the Military Base, rather I went straight to the strangest person in town, Ordok.

Ordok was like no other man on Earth. He decorated his walls with beads, his hair was in a Mohawk, and people even called him Spike because of his Mohawk. But the best thing about him was he could control magic. He was the only person I knew I could trust to help me kill Xavier.

I burst through the door, panting. Ordok wore red robes with an orange sash and a rope belt. He sat quietly at his cluttered, junky desk holding a blazing flame in his hand and scrutinizing it with extreme care.

“Ordok!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Ordok jerked from his studies and extinguished the flame.

 “Ah. Adrian Blood Man, you have returned. What do you need?”

“I need you to see to the future�"am I the savior of Cardathia? Is that why I bear this scar? Please, Ordok, I must know!”

 “For my life-long friend, okay. Look into my eyes,” he replied sternly, staring coldly at my eyes, studying them, unblinking.

“Well, it seems you predicted right,” he said, leaning back and blinking again. “Your future holds what you say�"death, war, you as the savior, and your scar,” he paused and shook his head. “holds death for you. The rest is unclear. I cannot tell you more. Now shoo! I have work to do!”

 Ordok flushed me out of the room and I hurried off into the night, hoping to run away from life; but you can’t.

 Head in hands, I sobbed throughout the night, not able to stop until dawn broke.

 When I had mustered up enough courage to show my face again, I wandered outdoors, my mind still set on the last thing Ordok had said, “Your scar holds death for you.”

Every man stared with a look of pain in their eyes. They knew where I was headed, the place they dreaded, The Blood Temple

My scar throbbed as I drew nearer to the Blood Temple. The Blood Temple was a place for the public to view what the Blood Reds’ had accomplished. I wasn’t going there to worship, I was going there to shed blood and get the “New Mark.”

 The New Mark is what saviors are to bear to show that they are untouched, a savior at birth, and are powerful. The new mark is a slash of blood over your nose and a bit past that. It is said that anyone who bears the new mark then can control magic.

I marched into the temple. It was lined with gemstones, pictures of Blood Red Kings, and a giant throne that was high above the ground.

I walked towards a bowl filled to the brim with fresh blood. It gave off a stench that gave a chill to my bones. I dipped my finger in tentatively and quickly said, “I walk in the name of peace,” in the ancient language, put the blood over my nose, then bowed and exited the halls. I now bore a mark that would change my life�"inside out.

When I walked back to town, I was greeted by a horn blow. Oh no! I thought. Invasion!

 The horn blow had come from the watchtower, where all trouble was signaled. I withdrew my sword, a sapphire blue-green blade. I could feel the ground vibrating from the Blood Reds’ heavy boots. My heart pounded in my ears, a burst of adrenaline shot through me as the soldiers from the army pooled around me, guns poised. All I had was my blade, but it was good enough.

 As the Blood Reds began filing in an orderly pack, my scar began to twitch. I ignored it. It was not the time for silly scar games.

The guns began to ring out and I lunged forward at a soldier, pounding them to the ground, and stabbing my sword deep into them. Blood gushed out of his side.

 I turned to a soldier behind me, ready to shoot me. I knocked the gun off my neck and two words I never expected to hear came out of my mouth.

“El rodan!”

 The ground shook with such a force that the man fell through a crack in the earth.

 I wasn’t sure what I had just done. Then I remembered what the general said back at camp. “They say if you learn how to use it, you can control magic.” I was an apprentice.

A light switched on in my brain and I knew what that spell was; earthquake. Hundreds of other spells seemed to be added to my mind throughout the battle.

The battle continued for days on end. When the last soldier was standing, I came forth. Xavier.

 “It issss you!”

“Yes, prepare to die.” I shuttered. I knew I would die.

I shot a spell for death in flames, but Xavier deflected it and shot a drowning curse. I deflected that.

 At the end of the battle, my vision was fuzzy, but Xavier’s was as keen as a hawk’s.

 With that disadvantage, he wounded me with death by flames. I went out cold. Or shall I say, hot.

I must have been out for quite some time because when I came to my senses, it was night.

 I could make out a figure by a small campfire concocting some potion. The figure reminded me of Alex. Perfectly shaped body, flowing gold hair, deep, sea-blue eyes. Wait, that was Alex!

 I tried to sit up, but every bone in my body squeaked and cracked until I was forced to lay back down. I felt Alex’s soft hands touch mine and stroke them soothingly.

She poured down the concoction she had created into my throat. It had a putrid taste, like…like…I don’t even know what!

 Suddenly, I faintly made out footsteps in the distance and the whispering of the song that was used by the Death Hunters, or the Gantara. The Gantara were sent out to kill people who disobeyed the Blood Reds’ laws. I was one of them, they wanted me.

 The song went like this:

 Death, death, death,

 Death for Adrian,

Kill, kill, kill,

Kill Adrian

We are the Death Hunters of the Blood Reds,

We do not rest until death is done,

Kill, kill, kill!

Death, death, death!

Repetitively the song was sang. Each word hung in the air and stayed there. In the back of my mind, I felt something flick, something that made me able to muster up the courage to fight the Death Hunters.

I had burns and scars all over my face and body, but I didn’t care. I was at least able to see straight and move. I withdrew my blue-green sword and hid in the bushes.

The Death Hunter’s words were almost a shout when they were near enough to stab me. But I stabbed them first. One pounded to the ground, blood pooling at his feet.

“’Tissss Adrian! Prepare to die!” he said in a hiss. He swung his axe at my chest, I easily deflected it. Our swords clanged in the night, awakening Alex who jumped straight into the fight.

 Alex finally killed the last Death Hunter after twenty minutes. Sweat beaded on her face, her hair was sweaty, and battle wounds lined her body. A grimace was etched on her face.

“Dirty death claimers. Hope they go to hell.”

“You saved my life,” I said, inching closer until I held hands with her.

 “No card has been laid out for bet, Brother Adrian. I did not save your life, but merely spared it. I could have let you die, but my mind knew to help you. Next time, you may not be so lucky, Brother Adrian,” she said harshly, then stomped off into the moonlight.

I just stood there, shocked. She had never been so gruff. Just last night, we were lover and lover, boy and girl. But her love has turned to lust. I glared at her; her feet pounding the ground, her flowing blond hair swishing in the cold wind. That very moment something clicked. She was foe, not friend, and something told me she worked for the Blood Reds.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 

 The next morn, I walked to the creek, where I found a surprise.

 The Elven man was washing his blade clean of blood. His cloak was streaked with a dark crimson. His face was scarred and bruised.

“Greetings, mate,” he said.

 “Greetings,” I boomed. “Why are you streaked in blood?”

 “Torture. You know, for the elves. I know you wouldn’t dare torture me, Peace Walker. You bear the mark of peace and justice.”

 “I would not!”

  “I have something to tell you, Young One. Come, sit.”

 I sat on a stone and stared coldly into the Elven man’s eyes.

 “The scar you bear is from when Xavier made a blow through your hand and you died. A powerful sorcerer risked his life and brought you back from the dead. Your scar hates all Blood Red related things because you died of the Blood Red’s torture. You live today because of me, the sorcerer who brought you from the dead.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

I couldn’t bear anymore. The last words I heard the sorcerer mutter where, “Don’t forget it.”

 When I reached town, I saw that in the hour I was gone, the Blood Reds had killed almost every living soul, taken hostage many men, burned our most important shops, and  worst of all, murdered Queen Yasmin.

I stood in shock, staring at the damage the Blood Reds were doing. Something snapped inside of me. I don’t know if it was vengeance, pain, sorrow, or something else. But I grabbed my sword and felt my New Mark and I knew what I had to do�"fight Xavier.

 The war was on.

But first, I had to get to his land. The journey would be extremely treacherous. I would cross Mount Gale, the coldest mountain in all of Cardathia. I would need to brave a forest full of traps and dangers. I would need to cross the Hyrathian Desert. But I feared not of those things, for what was the last danger, was the worst. The Nevlin Fortress, where guards blocked your way and if you failed to escape, your head would be shredded.

 I had magic, I had swordsmanship, and I had myself. I was ready.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 

 That night, I set out, my palm scar glowing ominously against the midnight sky.

My shadow slipped silently across the village and to the creek. Once I got there,  I was relieved I was still alive. I carried on.

I crossed the creek, my hand glued to my sheath in case of an emergency. My eyes alert and ears pricked. Danger was at my back, and I knew it.

When dawn arose, I was at the gates of a secure village known as Cavera. The people stopped and stared at me; they didn’t blabber any insults, nor throw rocks, rather, they stood in awe. I couldn’t figure out why. The people back home despised me. But these people seemed to…to…like me!

 One by one, they got down on one knee and said, “Be well, young savior.” I even saw two soldiers from the Cardathian army in full uniform bow and murmur the phrase. The two took off their caps and placed them over their hearts as they bowed in my presence.

 One of them came up to me, walking with pride.

 “Young Savior, you have come. We have waited for this day. The day when you would pass through our town to fight the evil Xavier,” he boomed.

 The next one came upon me, bearing a golden helm with engraved jewels.

 “With this helm we shine upon you as a symbol of our trust and thanks, you shall be anointed with the power of a warrior. You will now be able to control real magic, call the gods, and use your power for good. I, Ian Jackson, soldier of the Cardathian Army, hereby anoint thee Young Savior!” The helm was placed upon my head, where it glittered in the morning sunlight.

 I shook the soldier’s hands and then bowed and waved as I walked off, helm glistening in the sunlight.

 

There was clapping and loud laughs, cheers and screams, whistles and stomps.

But what I didn’t know was that danger was at my tail.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 

I continued my travels. As I exited the village, something rustled behind me. I spun around and jerked my blade from its sheath. From every angle of the forest came Death Hunters. They were streaked in crimson blood, and their blades where bent and shattered.

 “Uh oh…” I muttered.

 They leaped into full-force - fight mode. I fought as many as I could off, but it was complex. My left leg was shot by a Death Hunter and I was knocked out by a leathery fist.

While I was engulfed in darkness, they Death Hunters laid me down on the gravel, blood pooling at my feet. They began to sing their song as the head Death Hunter game forth with the sacred gun that was used to shoot the victims of the Death Hunters. It was black and sleek, with dry blood pasted on it. It was a beauty, really.

Just as they were about to kill me, the faint sound of galloping hooves filled the air. Out of the forest shot a prince in white and gold robes with a golden blade. His hair was midnight black and his horse was a pure white. Four guards stood beside him, with spears and lances. They wore helms like I did, but their helms were not as gorgeous as mine. Their horses were gray and had armor.

The prince lunged at the Gantara and thwarted them with his lance, sticking a bloody mark right in his chest. He battled the head Gantara for a while, while his guards killed the other Gantara.

 After battling for a good few minutes, the prince threw me over the back of his horse.

He galloped off into the morning light.

 When I awoke, I was in screaming agony. I lay in a bed, my wound covered and moisturized. Scars and scraps lined my body.

 The prince sat on the side of the bed, stroking my hair. “Everything’s okay. You’re safe,” he said softly. His words soothed me and I stopped tensing.

The prince left for a second, then came back with what I assumed was they head doctor.

The doctor inspected my wound and injected a concoction of fruit juices and nut bits into my upper leg.

 “Is he going to make it, Doc?” I heard the prince ask.

 “There’s a slight chance he will. He’s barely conscious right now, so I don’t know how much longer I can pull this off. I mean, he’s lost a lot of blood.”

 “He was a good man, Doc! And he is the Young Savior, if he dies, who will save us from our disparity?”

 “I’ll do whatever I can, Gore, but don’t expect too much of me.”

 “Thanks, Doc,” Prince Gore said with a sad tone.

 Days on end I lay in bed; dying. The doctor would give me daily pain killers and inspect my wound. Finally, after almost a month in prince’s palace, I was recovered enough to walk and talk. The prince was glad to see me alive.
 “Glad to have ya back,” he said, hugging me and giving me a hearty slap on the back.
 “I’m glad I lived through that. You the prince of Cardathia? Prince Gore?”

“Uh huh. I heard you screaming in the forest and rushed to your aid. No biggie, really.”

 “You saved my life. You saved a savior’s life! I am very grateful. Here, take this as my thanks,” I said, reaching for my neck where a pure silver cross necklace lay. I put it around Gore’s neck and looked. I mouthed, “Wow.”

 The prince gave me directions to Mount Gale. He claimed it was only a day’s hike to the mountain, and a few days across.

I set out across Cardathia and traveled for a day until I came to Mount Gale. I took a deep breath then quickly slipped on my snow gear.

I began to climb the icy sculpture.

Once I came to a sufficient camp spot in an ice cave, I set up camp and went out to hunt.

I knew almost no life lived on Mount Gale, but there had to be at least a snow rabbit or snow owl or something.

 As I wandered the paths near camp, I noticed a speck up in the sky. It wasn’t hawk or a bird, no, too big. It blended in with the ice and clouds…almost as if…a dragon!

 I ran straight to the edge of the cliff I had been standing on. I whistled a complicated tune that my father had taught me that meant, “I am friend, I will not hurt you. Come, come to me.”

 Dragons were not commonly seen in Cardathia, as the king before Queen Yasmin, King Alexander II, was a greedy king and stole all the dragon eggs. This one was one of the few that survived.

The dragon paused for a long while, as if considering each beat of my tune. I waited anxiously. I had always wanted a dragon companion, a companion that could help me achieve my destiny.

 The dragon darted down towards me and paused on the ledge. In my head, I heard the words, “I am your dragon.”

 The dragon was touching my mind with its senses! We could mentally talk!

 I eagerly responded with, “I am honored to be your Dragonboy.”

 “That is wonderful. What quests do you face that you need my assistance?”

 “I must slay Xavier and restore peace in Cardathia. Can you help me?” I asked.

 “I would be proud,” was the response.

 “That is wonderful!”

 “Well then, if you want my help, get on my back!”

“WHAT?! You mean I get to ride you too! This is going to be a much faster of a trip than I thought!”

 “Don’t count on it,” said the dragon, winking and smiling to show a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.

 The ice-blue dragon took off, his scales glittering a polished white

 We flew over the mountain in just a mere day, and were thrown into another adventure in the Li Lia Forest. This forest had poisons, snakes, some of the strangest people you’ll ever see, trap doors, magic, illusions, and many other surprising traps.

The dragon was the inquisitive kind. Though, he did add a few details about himself.

 I learned that his name was Aero, and that he had hatched from his egg in Alexander’s palace and escaped when he was young.

When the forest could be seen below us, Aero made a nosedive for it and landed just in front of the entrance.

 I gulped. The forest was a vast place, anyone could get lost, anytime. I withdrew my blade and squeezed it tight in my grasp. I began the long journey to the edge of the forest.

The forest was too dense for Aero, so he flew over it, and promised to meet me at the end.

 It was nearing night and I had no choice but to reluctantly set up camp in a secluded place of the forest, where I secretly hoped I would lay untouched the whole night. I was wrong.

I found lots of leaves and strung them together along with some packed mud and interwoven vines to make a bed. It was quite uncomfortable, and buggy, but I just wanted sleep, for I hadn’t slept in over a week.

During the night, some travelers came along. They wore headdresses, togas, tiger skins, cloaks, and a gun was in each of their hands, laced with blood.

They had markings on their faces, one had three lines on either side of his cheeks, the other had twisting lines and curved symbols on his face in a blood color. Wait, that was blood that made up the markings!

“Darien, there’s the one. The one that Kanaris envisioned! He bears the New Mark, sir, both of ‘em. He’s what the Blood’s want! He-” the man said his voice trailing off as the other shushed him.

 “Shut your mouth, Narman! You’ll wake the little fool,” the other said sinisterly, staring into my eyes with an evil expression, dying for my blood.

“Kill him!” the man who must have been Darien said loudly.

I somehow sensed the danger with my mind, even though I was fast asleep. I darted upright, and reached for my sheath. I withdrew my sword and ran for my life.

They shot  their bullets, most missing, some only missing by a hair. A small bullet shot my arm, but I carried on.

Once I reached a town called Osamba, I quickly darted into the brush behind one of the huts and stayed there until I heard the gunshots pass me by.

I panted, trying desperately to catch my breath, but just then, a horrible thought passed over me.

 Those two men weren’t just men, they were the Blood Red’s reinforcements and friends, the Zennethians, and the Zennethians weren’t just friends of the Blood Reds, they had been sent out to kill me and to stop me from getting to their palace. This could only mean one thing.

I was being watched.

Chapter 4

I gasped. I knew that all that I had seen and done was being supervised. But I had no time to think because before I knew it, soldiers from the Blood Red army came sprinting in for an invasion.

 The Blood Reds carried lethal guns. Most were a dusty brown, but some general’s guns were a midnight black. Their suits were black with red stripes going down, with heavy gold helmets, large packs on their backs, markings and symbols streaking their faces, and blood plastered to their uniforms and weapons.

“Oh god, they’ve tracked me down!” I said, panicked. I reached for my sheath and drew my sword, then darted off into the dawn light, praying for invisibility.

Invisibility I had, I said the words, “Illiknar sarfathia!” and just like that, I was gone.

 The soldiers back in the town were breaking into homes, killing villagers, and looking for me.

I ran as fast as a cheetah, trying desperately for my pants to not be heard.

I crossed a river and stopped to breath at another town called Eson.

The villagers there were welcoming, and many warned me to watch out for the Zennethians and the Blood Reds. One of the men even gave me shelter and food, and then set me off in the right direction to the edge of the forest.

 I wasn’t even close to the edge, but worse yet, now I knew that I had two dangers to face: the Blood Reds and their reinforcements, and any hidden guards watching me.

The villagers sent me off with a pack full of game and vegetables plus a hunting bow.

 There were no more towns in the forest except for the two that I had passed, so I was safe from any nosy villagers at least.

As I traveled on, I began to notice footprints just yards away from mine. Guards. 

I heard a rustle from the vine beside me and quickly harnessed my magic power and said, “Fortia Domez!” and spotted the Zennethian army soldiers at my back. I shot a few down with my bow, and the last one was a fighter. He scarred and pounded and lashed gashed at the air, but he always missed me by nose hairs with his gunfire. Finally, I struck him through the forehead with an arrow.

I carried on and was careful to take every precaution to get out of the forest alive.

As the blackness of night began to engulf the sundown, I set up camp near a carefully hidden area covered in thick, vines and brush. I slept soundly with no interruptions.

I slipped my helm on and put on my tunic, then I slung the bow and arrow over my back and the sword in my sheath. I washed up at the creek.

 I reached the edge of the forest when dusk broke out. A painting of orange, yellow, and pink splattered the sky as the sun went down.

I found Aero resting his eyes a few yards away. The dragon awoke at the sound of my voice in his head, Wake up, young dragon. We have much more to face!”

Aero must have flown days on end. I slept through the whole thing, I was exhausted from my adventures in the forest.

 When we reached the desert, Aero tensed.

 “What’s wrong, Aero?”

 “It’s sweltering in there. I am a ice dragon and cannot be put in temperatures that hot. Here is where we will depart, my friend. I thank you for all the journeys we have ventured on in our short friendship. I hope to see you skimming the skies with another dragon soon.

 “Aero�"Wait!”

 But he was gone in the midst of vast blue sky.

I sighed and shook my head. A small tear trickled down my battle scarred cheek.

I withdrew my sword and began crossing the Hyrathian desert.

 Dark began to rise, so I set up camp and took in some game. All I found was a small rat and a lizard. I savored each bite, hoping it would last me the way to Nevlin Fortress.

 When I awoke the next day, I heard a low growl in my ear. At first, I just tapped my ear to get the sound out, but when I was more awake, I noticed a wolf standing over me!

My sword was too far away for me to not anger the wolf. My only choice: hand-to-hand combat. Or should I say, “hand-to-paw combat.”

I punched the wolf in the chest and made a move for my sword. The wolf was close behind. He tore some skin off of my knee just as I reached my sword.

 The wolf was fast, but not too fast for me. Soon enough, I chopped the wolf’s head off, blood pooling at its feet.

I speedily packed up my things and ran from my campsite. I hiked about  five hours until I reached the fortress was in sight.

 I headed for Nevlin. The fotress was built into the side of a mountain. It was huge. Soldiers stood on balconies pacing the perimeter with their spears over their shoulders.

 Prisoners were locked up in small cages with battered clothes on. Guards wore black chainmail.

I slyly slunk around a corner, then I sprinted for a large window around the corner. I jumped inside and hid behind a piano.

I padded along the floor and slunk around the corner. I came to a double door entrance with two guards protecting it. The sign on the doors read “throne room.”

 Bow and arrow time. I thought. I quietly took out my bow and loaded it. I aimed at the first one then released the arrow with a subtle twang.

 The first one fell to the ground screaming. Then, the second jogged towards me, and I shot him straight in the heart.

That wasn’t so bad.  I thought.

I slipped into the throne room and made myself noticeable by walking right up to Xavier and cursing.

“YOU!!!” Xavier withdrew a black sword with red gem on the hilt.

I took the first shot, right for his heart and missed. Xavier spun, twirled and twisted and cut me severely on my leg. I kept on.

After almost an hour of combat, I dropped my blade and said, “Illiknar.” Just as Xavier punctured my chest.

After he killed me, he died from the magic I said. When the press found out I was dead, they had a large funeral for me, my sword that killed Xavier was placed in the casket.

Xavier was buried nine feet underground and the castle was knocked down because now the soldiers of Xavier had no one to worship.

I am missed dearly, especially by Aero. But everyone of Cardathia knows that I am with them in their heart and soul

 

THE END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Ignore grammar, and tell me what I could improve on. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Reviews

OMG it turned out soooooo goood!!!!!!!!! When r u coming out with a new peice? have an awesome brake!!!!

[.quan.011.]

I have to agree with HeartofStars and Niki Wilson. You should make this into a book. It will be easier for people to read. Otherwise the plot is good, and so are the characters. You got me hooked on the prologue and there were hardly any dull parts. Great Read. Seriously make this into a book.

[TheElfPrincess]

I think that if you devide this into chapters, it would be easier to read. Anyways, a very good story you got here. I really enjoyed reading it. But making a book and deviding this into shorter chapters might be better to keep the reader's attention.

[Niki Wilson]

Very good.. you could amke this into a book.