A longer chapter. Please enjoy!
The sky was grey with tainted smoke and rain that fell gently down from the Heavens, as if the very angels were grieving for what was about to occur. The horse Silas was upon fidgeted side to side, eyes wide and steel armor clanking together as it breathed deep and ragged.
"Easy. Easy." Silas cooed gently, attempting to calm the stallion. The nearby men fidgeted as well, uneasy.
Rorek's nose twitched slightly as he felt a raindrop splash on his face, the man looking up to the sky to see rain steadily begin to fall, "The angels weep for what is to come."
"Do not say that. You make the men feel even worse." Silas ordered firmly, Rorek looking upon the man from his own horse.
"Tis true. You cannot deny what is to come."
"But it shall not be our blood that slickends the ground." Silas objected, looking back towards his group of men. Their eyes shown with fear and uncertainty, as if they did not trust the young man before him.
"I did not say it would be our blood. Regardless, the enemy outnumbers us by two thirds." Rorek stated, Silas looking upon him.
"If you have come here to destroy morale why do you not just leave?" Silas asked, snarling in frustration.
"There is no need to coddle your men. They know as well as I do, and they know the risks. A good leader accepts the chances of risk, yet his confidence is not shaken no matter how grave. One look at me and Eamon's men will soil their undergarments and cry for their mothers. And I will laugh." Rorek replied, a look of smugness on his face.
"You sound confident." Silas stated, Rorek leaning over his horse to spit a mixture of blood and spittle.
"These men may fear me, but they also believe I can protect them with my powers. Regardless of the outcome I will stand by them."
"And I as well." Silas replied, getting off his stallion and delivering a swift and sharp smack to the horse's rear that sent him running off, "My men and I are equal. The risk that I shall die should be as equal as theirs."
"Likewise." Rorek stated, mimicking the man's actions as the smell of incense filled the air. Looking towards the source of the smell, Rorek saw several priests speaking the Lord's Prayer, waving an urn filled with incentives and blessing the soldiers as they slowly moved down the line. Most men were bowing in prayer as the clergymen passed, Silas being no different.
Rorek stood while the rest of his men bowed and kneeled. Were he younger, he would undoubtedly join the men. Now, however, he lost the sight of God.
"Pathetic creatures. Putting their lives in the hands of a false god." Malefor commented, Rorek choosing to ignore the dragon.
"O, Holy Father and Son in Heaven, please have mercy on these souls I am about to send to you, and judge them fairly. If I should fall to a foe's blade, please do not judge them harshly, for they are doing as ordered-as am I. Please forgive me for my sins, as well as the ones I shall soon commit." Silas prayed softly, getting up and standing at attention as William and Carl rode up on their steeds.
The army quieted at the sight of their commanders, William looking upon his soldiers as the sounds of his brother's army echoed in the distance.
"My fellow countrymen! By brothers! I see in your eyes terror and uncertainty, for it is in mine as well! I thank you, my kinsmen, for your loyalty and faith! We may die this day, yet we shall die fighting for the memory and honor of those we have lost to this tyrant! Today we fight for justice! Today we fight for memory! Today is the day we fight for every man, woman and child that suffered and lost their lives to this man's cruelty! Today is the day I-a Grand Duke-fights as equals among honorable men of all classes, and I would have it no other way! Now go! Go and fight, and bring forth a new dawn for generations to come!" William spoke, voice loud and strong as he unsheathed his sword, the men cheering and unsheathing their own weapons, ready to fight.
William turned towards his brother's army, Eamon out in the front, armor gleaming with vanity. Both men spotted each other, Eamon snarling as he noticed the Necromancer by his younger brother's side as well as his late niece's lap dog. Several of Eamon's men froze in their tracks upon seeing Rorek yet were forced to move forward as their brothers pushed forward.
Silas tensed, hearing the sounds of war horns as Eamon's men suddenly charged, the much smaller army tensing and preparing for the waves that were to break upon them.
"Archers! Fire the arrows!" William ordered.
"Arrows! Launch your arrows!" Carl echoed, the sound the arrows flying on the wind following shortly as the fist ranks of Eamon's army fell one by one.
As the army neared, several men tried to halt their advance and flee as they caught sight of Rorek, the men tripping and getting trampled by their fellow soldiers. In some areas is is caused a dent in the closing army as their foes tripped over each other, causing an embarrassing pile up. The only thing louder than Eamon's hurt pride upon seeing his men tremble and fall like drunks was Rorek's laugh.
Suddenly, to Silas, everything seemed silent, as if time had stopped. Silas felt his breath stop and his heart hammer, the natural terror filling him as he glanced to his fellow allies. All seemed steeled for what was about to come, and suddenly the slowness ceased, and the men crashed upon them like the sea.
Mayhem erupted all around as Silas found himself wedged between friend and foe, voices and colors blurring-everything seeming brighter, sharper.
At first, fear gripped the young man-the fear of death, of wanting to flee, yet he could not. At first, Silas only struck to wound or disarm, movements frantic from lack of pure combat. Until his first human kill.
Time appeared to freeze once more, Silas watching as his blade plunged into a boy. He wished he could have stayed his hand sooner, but he could not. His eyes memorized the boy's face, stricken with horror and pain. He memorized the blood, a deep shade of crimson. He promised himself he would only kill in self defense if attacked. Yet he killed again. A second, a third, fourth, fifth, tenth, fifteenth, twentieth.
Each time he promised himself that he would not kill, and each time he broke that promise. Until he stopped promising.
By now his movements have become precise and lethal, all fear gone, senses sharp and attacking any man that fought under Eamon.
Survival was all that mattered. He was not going to die. Not today. He would see William succeed, and Eamon fall.
William grunted as he swung his blade, blood now flooding the ground as the soldiers began to slip and fall. Looking around, he thought he saw a fleck of black-no doubt Rorek's attire, yet was quickly lost in the fray. He had no idea where his other friends were at-or if they were even alive. All his concerns have way to attention, however, when he met the eyes of his brother.
Rorek screamed as he slipped and fell on the blood, struggling to get up as swiftly as possible to avoid being trampled, kicked, or impaled. Much to his dismay, he found the ground too slick as he squirmed like a worm in water, cursing.
Rorek's eyes widened as he saw a man raise a war hammer to crush his skull, and have an unsportsmanlike kick. The man dropped to his knees, pained before Rorek kicked him in the face again and used the force to push himself up.
Rorek briefly looked at the downed man before stomping on his neck, hearing a dull crack ring out.
Carl panted and struggled for breath, old wounds slowing him down as he barely raised his shield in time to block the blow of a mace. Staggered, Carl fell to a knee, shield arm faltering to the relentless blows as he braced himself for the final hit.
Instead, the old knight felt a sudden spray of hot blood paint his face and armor as the man fell limp, Rorek appearing in his place and holding out his hand.
For once happy to see the odd man, Carl was helped to his feet, "Did you see Silas?!"
"What?!" Rorek asked, finding it difficult to hear over the fray.
"Silas! Did you see him?!" Carl asked, Rorek guessing it had something to do with Silas.
"No!" Rorek answered, shaking his head much to Carl's dismay.
"You murdered my daughter! My child! You gave her the death of a beast!" William snarled, swinging his sword as hard as he could, Eamon blocking the blow, yet had fallen to his knees.
Both brothers panted, exhausted from the fighting as Eamon slowly rose, using his sword as support, "Your daughter was nothing but a sow!"
"How dare you slander my daughter!" William roared, lunging at Eamon as he knocked the sword out of the King's hand, Eamon grunting as the sword clanged upon hitting the ground.
"How dare I? How dare you side with that blasphemy and the dog?! Where is your loyalty?!" Eamon hissed, a snarl twisting upon his face, beard black and greying.
"My loyalty is to my country. I cannot stand by while you destroy my home!"
"Were you as loyal as you claim you would not have betrayed me, William! You would have slaughtered those animals!"
"They are good men, Eamon! You are not fit to rule, not anymore! I have watched my own brother slip into insanity for years, and my regret is that I could not stop it sooner." William replied, Eamon laughing darkly, voice deep and rich.
"Stop me? Do you jest, little brother? You and I both know you do not have the stomach to kill me." Eamon spoke, William looking upon the man he was once proud to call his King and brother.
"Then die with honor." William ordered, kicking Eamon's sword to him as the older man slowly clutched the blade, rising.
"We shall see who is fit to be King. Die swiftly, brother." Eamon spoke, smirking as he swiftly bashed William with his shield, sending the old Duke falling onto the ground.
Eamon grinned smugly as he stepped on William's sword arm, William grunting in pain as he was forced to let go of his sword, which was then kicked away.
"All those books you read...they were such a waste of time. You and your precious books. I thought Father raised the lesser born better. Apparently not." Eamon spoke, the tip of his blade digging into the flesh of his kin's neck, "Farewell, Brother."
"NO!" Eamon grunted as his sword was pushed away, Silas bashing into the man as Eamon stumbled and faltered, quickly regaining his footing.
"God damn you!" Eamon hissed, seeing the same damned man he had grown to hate. Silas had his sword pointed towards the King, armor, sword and shield bloody as he panted, aiding his Duke up.
"My Liege."
"You have made your father proud." William replied, catching his breath as he bent over to pick up his sword.
"How are you alive? You should be dead!" Eamon asked, pointing at Silas.
"I believe I am either too foolish to know when to die, or I am a man of luck." Silas responded, Eamon growling.
"You do not know when to die! I should have called for your death the very moment the axe cleaved the Duchess' head!"
"But you did not. You killed her-butchered my darling Anaya like an animal even though I begged for you to deliver mercy! She received no mercy, and I shall give you none!" Silas roared, voice harsh as he charged forward, William protesting his vassal's actions.
Eamon grunted as he raised his shield to block, faltering before swiping with his sword. Silas used his shield to block, feeling the sword pierce his armor and embed into his waist, the younger man crying out.
Eamon saw Silas' defenses break as he grabbed the man's shield arm and twist him around, Silas crying in pain as he felt his shoulder pop and become pained, unable to move his left arm.
Silas could feel the cold steel against his flesh, and as a last resort flipped his sword around and thrust backwards, feeling the sword pierce through armor and flesh as Eamon's breath hitched, the King falling backwards.
William approached, watching the blood gurgle from his brother's mouth as the sword remained lodged within.
Silas fell to his knees, watching the blood on his side flow through his armor, left arm pained and useless, once again dislocated.
"Damn you!" Eamon hissed, grabbing onto the sword in an attempt to pull it out.
"Do not do that, Eamon. You will bleed out." William stated, looking around. There were too many of Eamon's forces. They wouldn't last. They may have defeated Eamon, but his forces were still fighting.
"Are you alright, Silas?" William asked, concerned as Silas still kneeled.
"I can...still fight, my Duke." Silas replied, exhausted as he rose, holding his bloodied wound.
"We ne-what in God's name?" William asked, seeing a creature in the distance, Silas groaning, feeling his heart sink.
"I told her to stay away!" Silas cried in dismay, seeing the pink gleam of Ember's scales as she roared as viciously as possible, swooping down and unleashing hellish flame upon Eamon's army, "Ember! Ember! E-gah!...Go back! Go back! Go away!"
At the sight of a dragon, Eamon's army lost their zeal and began to panic, fleeing and shattering. Others, however, choose to fight and launched arrows at the pink dragoness, Ember crying as the arrows embedded into her as she made a second pass. Faltering in flight, Ember cried and crash landed into the bulk of the King's army, Silas struggling to go to her.
"Ember! Ember!" Silas cried shrilly, finding that reaching Ember would be nigh impossible as he saw fire and smoke explode from Ember's position.
An echoing roar then erupted from the sky as a red beast descended from the sky, attacking with flame and talons, fire hotter and talons sharper than Ember's.
With the arrival of this dragon that was seemingly defending the dragoness, the King's army completely broke, leaving the survivors of William's army.
With Eamon's soldiers fleeing, Silas bolted in the direction of Ember, forcing himself to stop and catch his breath-the distance being fairly large for a human.
"Ember! Ember!" Silas called, seeing Ember's head pop up at the mention of her name, the dragoness brightening as the red dragon saw to chasing off the threat.
"Silas? Silas! Thank the Ancestors are you alive!" Ember exclaimed, obviously happy but frowned as she saw him wounded and covered in blood.
"I am-" Silas yelped as he fell backwards to avoid getting disembowled by white talons, the large crimson scaled dragon shooting between human and dragoness. The strange dragon roared viscously, as if wild as it reared, exposing white scales.
"Silas!" Ember cried, worried for her friend as she slipped between the knight and the hostile dragon, pupils narrowing as both dragons growled, baring their teeth.
"You aren't hurting him. I won't let you." Ember growled.
"You are willing to protect a human?" The dragon asked, red eyes narrowing upon the young man. To Silas, the deep voice obviously meant it was male.
"I am. I assume you hate humans, and only came here to do bad things to them?" Ember asked.
"Partly. I came here to protect you." The male spoke, Ember looking at the dragon oddly.
"Protect me? I don't need you to protect me! I have Silas!"
At this the red dragon snorted in disgust, "I couldn't let anything happen to you, even though I don't know you. I do know, however, that you are one of the last females. I'm not going to let our race die."
Ember was a bit unnerved by that. She wasn't sure about this dragon.
"I'm Kirk." The dragon said simply, Silas raising a brow, not even bothering to get up he was so tired.
"You are named after a church?" Silas asked, the dragon completely ignoring him. Ember frowned at that.
"...I'm...Ember." Ember replied, not really feeling as if she could trust this dragon. She knew Spyro would arrive shortly though, so maybe he could serve as a buffer.
The dragons stared, not making a move. Kirk's eyes narrowed on Silas, Ember blocking her friend from the male's view, not at all trusting him. She knew how savage male dragons could get.
"I don't want him near you." Kirk stated, Ember's eyes widening in shock and Silas feeling vulnerable, as if he were a lamb waiting for slaughter.
"E...Excuse me?" Ember asked, confused.
"The human. His scent is too strong on you, and your bond is too strong. Stay away from him."
Silas felt his anger rise. This dragon had no right to tell Ember what she can and cannot do. He also didn't understand why the male saw him as a threat. Ember was his friend, and he was hers. Was the dragon race truly that close to extinction that they were becoming mere animals ruled by instinct?
Thank you all for your support! Kirk belongs to Admiralkirk. Please give me your input!