First Tale Of The Chromatic Dragons: Chapter 3 (Rough)

"A bright sunny day to follow my rather dark night." She mused, smiling at the daylight before her. She always enjoyed her time off after a job well done. Now time to relax, stress free and time to do what she wanted to do. A week off to get back to where she was stationed even though they knew she could make it back in a day. She was their star pupil after all.1

She parted her robe at the front, showing off her red dress underneath and letting the breeze cool her. It was nice to feel the warmth again. Looking around she took stock of her surroundings. She had just made it inside the neighbouring village as the sun arose. No way could she be found now, surely they'd have only just discovered the body. Her smile faltered at that thought but only briefly. Sure the job was a success but she rarely ever enjoyed it. She walked on, smiling again at the sunlight.2

A cold countenance was required, a duty she had to do and was never by choice, unless it was a criminal. There was at least justice with those jobs. This village was a major route, Stolk, a trading village. News could always be found here. Taking her time, she searched out the village billboard. This was also a time that she enjoyed thinking and plotting hoping to deceive her employers in some way, and to keep herself distracted from memories of the night before. She was never very good at forgetting details, poor thing. She scanned the news articles as her defiant thoughts took over.3

I still can't believe what they did to me. Storming my hometown, slaughtering innocent villagers for their own enjoyment while searching for new "students". They gathered most of the children, including myself into the town centre, holding parents as hostages. My mum had passed away when I was only a baby spared of the massacre, as for my father…… MY FATHER!
No longer was she smiling as she scanned an article about cave beasts raiding villages.4

I remember his last words to me. "Klarian! Whatever happens, stay alive and stay strong. If not for me, then for the other children." I was 12, borderline to be classed as a child. Still I couldn't move fast enough. He screamed my mother's name before they killed him, yet I kept running. We'd already given them one hell of a fight at our house, the only reason we yielded was for the lives of others. Yet father still lost his, suddenly it didn't matter. My fathers killer - Neemer - was all I saw as I drew a hidden dagger from my boot.5

He just stood there, arms folded bloody sword in hand, probably didn't realise I had killed as many of his men as my father had. Father taught me well, Neemer had no chance. Faking a leap towards him, I dived to his left. Predictably he turned to face me and slowly unfolded his arms. It was just a stroke of luck that in his arrogance he lifted his chin to look down his nose at me. Overconfident bastard! I let the dagger fly as I came to my feet and Neemer did fall, such a predictable warrior. Calmly I withdrew my dagger, cleaned it upon Neemer's clothes since he would not need them anymore and returned inside the circle, ignoring the stares in the silence. My father was avenged, the rest didn't matter so much. The rest is all a blur. Mostly screams. So much screaming...6

Klarian snapped out of her memories as she scanned the wanted posters, trying desperately to cool her sudden hate. One of the posters caught her eye as it had her boss’ personal signia at the bottom. She decided to read this one thoroughly, feeling the need for a second job. The first lines read:7


WANTED!
Magikan Vearlae8