Here is the next chapter, which I hope you enjoy. I'm not even sure if I have any readers, but I enjoy writing it, so I will post it for whoever might come along. Canon characters are coming into view, and so the story unfolds! Please leave me a review, again, constructive criticism! If you like this story, you may like my others, so check them out! Thanks, enjoy, and review!
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Wind ruffled his hair. The sky was blue, spotted with fluffy white clouds, like cotton balls in the breeze. The grass was green and flowers scented the air. The day was beautiful; perfect. A massive cloud drifted overhead.
Henry gazed down his bayonet at the scruffy boy on the ground. His face bled from abrasions when he was knocked to the dirt. The girl screamed,
"Let me go!" She bit the man who held her captive, and fell to the ground beside the boy. "Pazu, wake up! You have to wake up Pazu!" Her voice was desperate. He saw in her Natslia, and it took all his will not to pull away his musket. The other soldiers leaned in. Henry began to sweat. They were children. Children! He should not be pointing a gun at their heads, it was wrong, wrong...
Andrew stomped on his toe as he hesitated, and he warily leaned in with his rifle. The girl leaped to her feet and began to struggle. She screamed, and fought the man who grabbed her again. Suddenly, she fell to the ground, unconscious, beside he boy. A gun in a fisted hand pulled away. He froze when a man stepped into view.
"Back away, soldiers. That is my niece you are aiming at." A shiver ran up his spin, but no one moved until the frog-like General said,
"At ease, men. Colonel Muska! What do you mean, she is your niece?!" Colonel Muska glared at the general, his glasses glinting.
"That is none of your concern, General." Henry glanced at the man, whom his gaze had been avoiding. He was tall, his regal head draped in golden hair, small, severe glasses hiding his piercing eyes. His stature hollered power, importance. So this is Colonel Muska, Henry thought.
"Not my conc- it very well is my concern!" The General sputtered, his beefy face turning purple. Colonel Muska just smirked.
"I will bring the girl on the ship. Take the boy as well. Put him in the dungeons." Colonel Muska pointed at Henry, and he was still as the ground they stood upon. "You. Carry him. And don't be gentle." The colonel himself bent and lifted the delicate girl into his arms. He held her in almost a fatherly way. It scared Henry. It was something more than fatherly. He owned her.
The Colonel strode away, and Henry slung his bayonet over his shoulder. He bent and hefted the boy into his arms. He was light, having lived on a very small diet. Pazu, she had said his name was. Henry walked toward the spy plane, careful as if the boy was made of porcelain. He saw himself in the boys thick, fluffy hair, in the boys protective expression and defiant chin. Pazu groaned and curled in Henry's arms, just a child. Henry could not hurt a child. Disobeying the Colonels orders, he gently carried him away, murmuring comforting words to the hurting boy.
He was beginning to doubt the military' stood intentions.