Dragon Frost (45 page)

I feel
myself heat up with a burning desire to dig my fangs and claws into
these demons. I don’t know why I feel like this . . . I’ve never in
my life felt such desire to kill, never in my life have I felt such
desire to destroy, never in my life have I found such desire to
take a life.

Even if
it be a demon’s.

I can
hear Dante’s voice in the background, him yelling at me to keep my
distance, I can’t help it though, my blood surges through me
quickly, with a pace so great, so overwhelming it’s hard to ignore.
Without thinking, I leap and flip, the full force of my impact can
be measured by the cracks and the tremor of the earth, my feet—my
heels dig into the skull of the demon where it ceases to move, it’s
blood pools out in an alluring crimson color. I should feel scared
right now, I should feel concerned but right now I’m completely
lost.

More
screeches occur and the presence of more demons flood around
us—their bodies initially were transparent before becoming solid
forms with distorted limbs—the cracking and popping sound of their
extremities slithers through my ears in a comforting and delectable
sound. All I know is I want to hear more. To feel more.

I sprint
towards them, my mind blank and distant as I take down the demons
one by one, their torso and abdomen sever by my claws, my white
fleecy gown and scales are now streaked in blood and splattered
upon me like a canvas from impact. I’m allured and for once—I’m in
control. At this point in time, I’ve never felt such power surging
through my veins, not once. The demons fall and pile all around the
forest floor under thick leaves, over moss covered stones and tree
roots. The thickness in the air subsides and I feel
uneasy.

I turn to
see Dante, Augustine and Asashin stare at me in shock—is it
shocking for men to see a woman kill? I turn my back on them. “Hunt
down the rest.” I order. I stride through the forest, my vision
takes in the outline of the smallest but to the largest roots, the
scene of life travels under the earth and I fight the will to tear
it apart. My claws feel moist. I stop and I pull my hands before
me—palm up. Blood covers my hands, there are four equal
indentations on the back of my palm blood seeps from them and I
only than realise I’ve done it to myself.

I know
I’m not suicidal but the sight of it is, almost, scary.

I was and
still am disgusted with myself, the need to kill, I’m fighting on a
subconscious level to keep myself from more mindless killings.
That’s what it was mindless and unforgivable killing. I think with
a frown and continue on my journey. I don’t know how deep I’ve
travelled into the forest but it’s far enough to know that this is
one of the most dangerous places someone like me can be and I’m
just pleased I have some control over
myself. 
There’s no need to kill.
 I try to tell myself, 
there’s no need to kill
more!

“
That was
interesting . . . ” comes a voice. I glance up to see a man in a
white robe. His silver hair cascades over his back giving his
appearance several shades that complement his youthful tanned
features. I know he’s not young, I can feel the energy radiating
off of him in waves, he’s far too old, and he may be older than my
grandma. But who is he? Before I can question he beats me to it.
“It doesn’t matter who I am, all that matters is you.
Child.”

“
I’m not
a child!” I spit.

“
In
comparison to me, you are. You need to learn restraint. You need to
learn control. As such you fight like a child, all out with nothing
held back. That will be your downfall.” his voice is fluid and
calm.

I growl
low, “I am in control!” I yell in a voice I don’t recognize and his
eyes narrow down upon me like a disobedient student. I feel rather
rebellious right now and enjoy it—he approaches but keeps a firm
gaze on me.

“
You say
that but really . . . you aren’t and you know it.” He eyes my
bloody hands before his appearance returns back to my features,
“and you’ve split.” I stare at him confused.

“
What?”

“
You’ve
split. Your powers, your energy, your forms are split though they
have merged as one. Strange . . . you’ve over exhausted yourself
and as a result your body is fighting to heal itself and you’re
being too stubborn, as always, refuse to allow it to do as
such.”

“
Don’t
speak as though you know me!” I growl.

He’s
quiet and turns from me. “Your grandmother hasn’t told you . . .
has she?” I’m lost now—more confused than I was prior this whole
ordeal when my answer doesn’t come he decides to continue. “No she
hasn’t . . . you being as thick headed as your father only just
goes to show her fear of your censure.” I glare.

“
Who are
you?” I demand, fiercely.

“
I’m Lord
Edgar of the Cardin Province, sixteenth district and I’m here to
show you control.”

“
What
makes you think you can show me control?” I question with sarcasm
but deep down, I know he can or has the power to but I’m too
stubborn to believe it. I know I would rather die than allow any
stranger to have any power over me, there are few who do and I
prefer to keep it like that.

After the
demons were eliminated I returned back to the palace—though it
feels like my world is now different. Straight away I had to
undergo physical examinations, more tests and more therapy
especially physiotherapy oddly it was longer than expected and the
doctors all appeared to have a grim look on their faces, I noticed
as well there were more guards surrounding and escorting me while
my personal maid became slightly more nervous around me. I can see
her fear run off in waves, I can smell the alluring scent of her
rushing blood.

To cause
her less unease, I decided to give her the night off, she attempted
to debate but I told her it was final. “Thank you mi lady,” she
said before she darted off and out of my room. At this time I’m
currently cursing my grandma for not telling me but at the same
time I’m mad at myself for being so like my father.

If he were here he would have the answer.
 I think sadly.

At that
moment a thought occurred to me, I glance at the silver doors, I
know there are guards standing outside of it, I know they insist on
keeping me here. I know they won’t accept what is running through
my mind at the moment. I glance down at my large bed, silver and
blue sheets are draped across it with golden embroidery. I move to
my wardrobe at the far end of my large spacious room, the marble
tiles are cold under my feet.

It’s
comforting, the cold floor under my toes keep my mind from thinking
about the consequences of my actions. I slide open my door and my
wardrobe appears empty, it’s a walk it and bit by bit the room
begins to light up in silver fluorescent lights. I walk along the
stone corridor and come to the end of my wardrobe, a large black
box stands before me, before it is my father’s blade and his cloak,
given to me after he died as I was the eldest.

I run my
fingers along the cool steel, theindentations give me a sense of
satisfaction as I know that this sword has beenin our family for
generations, it was grandma’s a one point and then my father’s and
now mine. I glance back at the containerbefore me and place my
palms flat against it. The box slowly pulls itselfapart, block by
block until what I seek is revealed.    

With my
cloak draped around me, my father
’s sword upon my back and my armour covering my
scales, I glance at the piece of armour covered from the breast
down to the shin, designed in similar designs, it was my
grandmother’s armour, she said to only use it for emergencies—in a
way, I guess forming a new allegiance with the Zylarians is an
emergency—of sorts. There is a blue lining through it present
between the silver swirls and ancient characters. I glance at the
full moon outside my large floor-to-ceiling window. I can’t help
it. I’m afraid but I’m sure that this is the right decision to do.
People believe I’m losing control, people believe I’m unfit to
return to Zylaria, to Varden. I’ve never resented someone so much
other than Altair.

I knew I couldn
’t bring him.
 I think, knowing I’m out of range for the others to
hear. I slip the cloak around me, instead of having one layer of
silver flourezents, there’s two, so unlike mine this is a
thousand-times more durable and stronger, if required this suit
will wrap around my body and become a suit of armour protecting its
host from the most dangerous confrontations. The sword attaches
itself to my back through my energy bond, I push open the glass
window and pull myself upon the sill. The rushing of water far
below crashes soothingly against the black stone cliff and I allow
the wind to brush around my features, I stand—it’s welcoming and I
fall.

The ocean
slowly moves to greet me and quickly, I couldn’t fly before but I’m
praying at this moment that I’ve at least gained that part of my
powers. I close my eyes and search deep within me, feeling
something solid, something warm. My limbs begin to tingle not in a
painful or uncomfortable sense but as if a spray of warm water
drizzles over my body. I snap my eyes open—the power is released
and I glide along the water’s edge, the waves a meter below me, the
breakers dance quietly as the surface shifts away from the energy
serving through my body. I shift higher and like that I soar
through the sky towards the Celestial Pass. I can’t breathe in
space and I most definitely can’t fly all the way to
Zylaria.

I’ll need
transportation.

I slowly
glide through the Hanger Bay, where space travel jets line
themselves around the runway. I gently land on the ground, my heels
don’t make a sound, glancing over my shoulder I wonder how I
managed to make it here in one whole night without falling into the
ocean. That would have been a laugh. I believe anyway. I stride
along the airstrip knowing that it’s not completely abandoned.
Still they don’t know that I’m not exactly allowed to leave, but
who’s going to tell them? I pass many unused jests and pass a large
silver space-ship as strange as that sounds it is exactly that a
ship for travel through space. Initially the Nefaliem would spend
close to five hundred years out in the abyss of space.

The sound
of distant muffled voices make their way to my ears. They’re too
far to pick out anything comprehensible. Though I try not to be
caught so I hide in the shadows and move to my destination at the
end of the Hanger Bay, There are many large different designed
ships for different voyages and depending on whether or not they
are for battle or travel they are armed and ready to defend those
on board as it will take years or months for its next contact with
a port station. There at the end of the Reserved Section, is the
battleship I’ve been searching for—my Exelon. I smile at the sight
of it.

Footsteps
sound not too far from me and I slip behind a large silver
container that glimmer would often contain, food, products, weapons
and many other necessities for long space voyages. The footsteps
die down and I glance at to the disappearing sound and see a man
and a woman heading towards the opposite side of the Hanger. I slip
out from where I hide and stand under my ship. I pull up my PCP and
enter the pass-codes and digits required for the ships’ access. It
stands gleaming under the luminous lights and the platform slowly
begins to descend. I hear the footsteps once more and I run up the
platform and enter the hanger of my ship. I move to the red button
on the left and hit it.

The
platform slowly begins to close itself and I race towards the pilot
seat, passing down corridors, open spaces, cubicles and other seats
before I manage to make my way to the bridge, I sit down into my
seat and begin to power up my ship. I feel my battleship—fitted for
two hundred passengers and personnel begins to vibrate under my
boots as the fuel cells and engines warm up, weapon system and
communication becomes online and before I knew it my ship was ready
to move. At that moment an AI slips onto the platform and his
holographic figure stands, staring at me, his form is silver lined
in blue. “You know you’re going against protocol.
Right?”

“
Tell me
something I don’t know.” I reply and the wrap my scaled fingers
around the shift and press more buttons more sliding my fingers
down.

“
Have a
plan on how to get out?” came the voice. I know it all too well but
don’t focus on it instead, I force the jet—with its engine
purring—to move towards the runway. A voice on the comlink breaks
through.

“
This is
Spatial Control. You are in breach of Protocol A41. You have two
minutes to abort launch or we will use force.” I feel the sweat
slipping down my face, my heart is erratic and the presence behind
me isn’t helping.

“
Are you
on theirs on mine?” I ask the voice.

There’s
silence.

“
If
you’re here to stop me, I won’t go down without a fight.” The jet
moves closer towards the runway and the same voice breaks through
on the comlink. The AI regards me with a blank expression as the
voice dances over our heads.

“
You have
one minute and thirty seconds to abort the launch.” They still
don’t know who’s on this carrier do they? I feel movement behind me
before it becomes present by my side. I glance towards the second
pilot seat and there sits Asashin. He sets up his side and gains
control of the jet. His hands are wrapped around the shift like
mine and he aids in the movement of the jet. I smile and turn my
gaze back to the runway before us, I glance back at Asashin and he
places his hand on the gears, as do I. He nods and at the same time
we push it forward and the jet accelerates.