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"What in utter Hell do you think you're doing?"
Feyr turned his watchful eye from the battalion of Maniboars who where practicing their sword skills, to see Baraz standing inches away from his face, his fists trembling with the blackest kind of fury.
Feyr looked at him calmly, smirking back at him. "Are you suddenly blind, Baraz? They're practicing sword skills. Feel free to join in," he rumbled in his gravely voice. He turned around again, his hands folded behind his back, observing the group and not giving an inkling that he knew Baraz was even there anymore.
Baraz snarled in response. The only thing he felt like doing was pounding Feyr's smug little face into the ground. But he'd just been demoted, so why risk being fired completely?
If it was a battle of wit Feyr wanted, he would give him one.
Feyr heard the sharp sting of metal scraping against metal ringing in his ears. He pivoted to see Baraz, drawing his sword from it's sheath on his back.
Feyr raised a furred eyebrow, but accepted his challenge. Baraz may have been more powerful than him, but Feyr had the advantage of higher intelligence. He immediately could tell which sword skill Baraz was about to perform: the mortal draw, (One of the few skills the Maniboars could learn; they where no where near as nimble as Link.) The commander had taught them the skill in question, having seen it been used first hand by Link. As Baraz ripped the sword from it's sheath, performing the slash, Feyr blocked it easily with his own blade.
"Don't give away what move you are performing Baraz, it could be your death," he sneered, counter attacking with a stab, which narrowly missed an unarmored section of Baraz's abdomen.
Baraz's brow was furrowed in concentration. He aimed a swipe at Feyr's face, on the other side of the three scratch marks he had given him earlier.
"How about I give you three more slashes on your face, to match the other side?" he jeered.
Feyr dodged the swipe with ease. Before Baraz could blink, Feyr had slashed at his injured throat causing him to tumble backwards. He tried to scramble to his feet, but he soon felt the cool stone embrace of Feyr's blade pressed against his throat.
"Don't allow yourself to get cocky in battle, you inferior, hot-headed fool. Your enemy will only take the opportunity to strike. You. Down," he emphasized the last three words, sneering down at him, while a low snarl rumbled in Baraz's chest.
"Excuse me, Colonel."
Feyr turned from Baraz and sheathed his sword. Brokkr, the battalion's best archer and also the messenger, was standing with a scroll of paper in his hand. Brokkr was one of his favourite soldiers. Even when he was a private just like Brokkr, it had been the same. He worked hard, and was the "best damn archer in this damned place," as he always said to him. It was a shame Ganondorf failed to recognize this.
He saluted Feyr, much to Baraz's disdain.
"At ease Brokkr." He dropped his paw from his forehead, and handed the scroll to Feyr, as Baraz got to his feet.
"A message from the Commander sir." Feyr took the scroll from him and opened it hastily. His bicoloured eyes scanned the paper quickly.
"Ah." Ganondorf was requesting his presence in the planning chamber. He must have a plan of some sort drawn up. He closed the scroll and handed it back to Brokkr. "Thank you private. You may return to your duties." Brokkr saluted again, before heading into the training hall towards the other archers.
He turned on his heel to face Baraz, who was silently fuming behind him.
"I suggest you practice more Baraz. Maybe you'd be better at using the bow and arrow, you know. Brokkr could teach you a few new tricks." He turned and walked away, turning once to add, "But old dogs can't learn new tricks, can they Baraz?" He snickered to himself as he heard Baraz's loud cussing ringing in the halls. It felt good to have revenge. Countless times he had humiliated him, made him feel inferior, useless, and a disgrace to the battalion, one of those such times being in the spring outside of Ordon. He traced his index finger down one of the long, jagged scabs running down his face towards his snout. Revenge did indeed feel good, but not as good as he thought it would feel. Revenge wasn't what he did. Evil wasn't who he was. It was who Ganondorf was shaping them into. They where all clay figures, and if one didn't conform Ganondorf would squeeze it into pulp in his hand. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Tyrir originally didn't create them for this. Just like Ganondorf, Tyrir had been desperate for power. He had his place in this world, only to abuse his power, and it was ended then. The Goddesses saw to that. They made sure the boars were dealt with too. They had once been guardians of the Underworld, sacred beings that protected lost souls. But along with Tyrir, they where labeled evil, to be banished and never spoken of again. No one knew of Tyrir in Hyrule now. He had been erased from history altogether. Erased. Maybe the boars should be erased too. Baraz, Brokkr, the others, himself. Before they all did something they would regret. They had all been turned into pawns on Ganondorf's chess board; they moved at his command, doing whatever he may say, whether it be wrong or right. Good or evil. And it was obvious what side Ganondorf was on.
As he entered the cavernous planning room, he could fell the apprehension. A storm was coming. Hyrule would soon be caught in the treacherous riptide, it's inhabitants would slowly sink under the surface. Ganondorf's rough voice snapped him from his thoughts, saluting automatically.
"Ah, Feyr. Finally you decide to come. I have several things I need to discuss with you," he rumbled, his lips twitched upwards in a malicious grin. Feyr cocked his head to the side. I peculiar looking orb of light was hovering before Ganondorf. He squinted spastically, transfixed by the orb.
Ganondorf's eyes dropped from the orb, to see Feyr standing in a trance as he stared at it.
"As you can see, I have mastered conjuration magic. Such wonderful things this little ring is capable of... and yet so many things I have yet to master..." he paused to glance at the ring on his left index finger. "This orb you see before you, is a mirror of sight. I can focus it on one living being at once, and I can see exactly what they see." Feyr shook his head to clear it, and nodded once.
"If I may say so, is it correct that you are prying into the sight of Link?"
Ganondorf nodded once. "This is coming in very useful for planning our first attack. It has also alerted me to another thing, something invaluable to causing him as much pain as possible, before I finally get my revenge and destroy him." He stopped again, still gazing into the orb, waiting for Feyr to ask, what this invaluable thing may be.
Feyr rolled his eyes, and asked flatly, "and what is this thing you speak of?"
"It seems Link has an eye for the princess. You can imagine how many ways I can use this to my advantage." He threw back his head and guffawed.
"So what do you plan on doing sir?"
"We wait. We shall wait for this relationship to... develop further. Guaranteed more pain for them both that way, when I rip them apart," he snickered, waving his hand causing the orb to vanish into nothing. He then waved at the thick oak doors which swung open and slammed against the walls behind. "Go. I shall send Brokkr for you if I require any new information."
Feyr half-heartedly saluted, dropping his arm to his side limply again. He pivoted and marched off towards the training room, and the doors behind him shut themselves again.
He had been right. The storm wasn't far from Link now. He'd better be prepared.
Just a filler chapter really... remember to review and tell me your thoughts. The date is next chapter! :P