Cursed Yoshi
Chapter 97 = The Secret
Weapon
Disclaimer: All characters here are of my own
invention, but the original idea of Yoshies, Birdos, etcetera, are copyright of
Nintendo, and I make no money from writing this.
31st of Eira, CD
2156; Somewhere in the Crelata Forests
Darkmark awoke when a
sky-blue hand shook his body gently. He grumbled a little and rubbed his eyes,
letting them get adjusted to the green-filtered light coming through the forest
canopy, and through the open tent flap.
“You looked tired, so I let
you sleep in.” The female feral told him in her native tongue. “But the leader
wants to see you, and-”
She stopped abruptly and drew
back when Darkmark opened his eyes, the slightly shining red surprising her.
“What… who are you? What are you?”
Darkmark sighed. “I don’t
have time for this… it’s not important to you who I am. Just tell me what you
were going to say.”
She paused, looking around
nervously, then continued, “The… the leader wants to see you, he’s waiting for
you and sent his children to get you… they’re outside.”
“Alright…” Darkmark murmured,
getting his things together. He stretched and stood up, putting his things back
on, then walked out of the tent.
He was greeted by four ferals
pointing spears at him.
“Morning.” He mumbled, undaunted,
standing straight and keeping his wings against his back. He looked each of
them in the eye and gestured generally. “Lead on.”
They spread out and
surrounded him in a box formation, leading him away. Another pair ran past him,
helping the sky-blue feral take down the tent she had been in; as they walked,
Darkmark could see all the other tents partly in the process of being taken
down.
Seems like one of the ones Shiala told me
about…
Darkmark thought, before closing his eyes and forcing the memories away. Now
was not the time.
There was a feral wearing a
cloak with two others taking down a larger tent, but he stopped when the
entourage arrived, stepping away and standing directly in front of Darkmark as
the armed ones spread out around them.
“Sleep well?” he asked,
keeping an authoritative stance and tone of voice. His skin was deep green, his
chest the usual tanned orange of ferals, with prominent Eyes of Karshina. His
cloak was pinned shut with an ornate brooch that looked to be of great value. Darkmark
nodded back and replied, “Yes, quite comfortably.”
“Good.” The chieftain
replied, his gaze unblinking. “Your eyes are… interesting.”
The brown Yoshi fanned out
his wings. “I find there are more interesting things about me…” Then he folded
them up again, but not as much. “They are on the inside, however.”
The chieftain gave a smirk,
nodding a little. “I see. I heard you have been in a feral village before.”
“Yes…” Darkmark said,
nodding. “But it has since been destroyed. I took a feral from there a little
before, but she was murdered.”
“Humans?”
“Who else?” Darkmark replied
with a shrug, fighting hard to keep his emotions hidden. “Are you running from
them here?”
“Yes.” The green one replied,
gesturing to the encampment being taken down. “Thrice within the last two
months we have narrowly escaped a confrontation. There are bounty hunters who
would gladly see us dead in exchange for cash, who roam these woods looking for
us. We’re heading south right now.”
Darkmark’s hand strayed a
little towards his saddlebags, but he thought better of it. “I’m not sure where
I am headed, but I thank you for your hospitality.”
“Not just yet.” The chieftain
replied, halting Darkmark where he was. “I still want to hear of your psionics.
It is supposed to be a lost art.”
The brown Yoshi paused,
looking the feral in the eye. “Of course.” He murmured, giving a little smirk,
thinking for a moment of something fancy, a shiver running through him as the
dormant skills Karlo-Shin had given to him made themselves known. They seemed to
float around inside his head before he was able to pick on one of them, the
secrets of the master psion revealing themselves to his student. Darkmark held
his hand up in front of him, palm upwards, forming a small ball of light for
effect, and let the charged spell flow through him… fading from sight as he
became invisible.
They looked around,
surprised, and Darkmark chuckled for a moment before shifting a little, the air
around him distorting until he became still again. “Just a taste,” Darkmark
remarked to the feral chieftain, “of what I’m fully capable of.”
Smirking, the chieftain
nodded serenely and clapped Darkmark on the shoulder as he let the spell fade.
“Not bad, not bad. I’ll let you go, since we should move, too. I hope we meet
again. May the gods be with you.”
“Alright, we have new
orders.”
The four human sub-captains
were waiting for a reply from their commander, the captain of the city guard,
who had just finished reading a letter from the Capital. They regarded the
captain with some caution, and often doubt, but in the end had little say in
the matter. He was, after all, their superior.
“We are to fortify the city’s
defences and make sure it can withstand an attack from the east.” The captain
said, folding up the letter and placing it on the table in front of him.
“Apparently an attack is expected within the week, perhaps later. You can
probably use some materials from the destroyed prison if you need to. See if
you can’t find some more recruits while you’re out there.”
He ran a red hand through his
silvery hair, pausing to think for a moment. “Also, draw the other guards away
from the western end of the city. We won’t need them that much. It’s pretty
calm that way.”
“Anything else?” The second
sub-captain said, as always leaving off a ‘sir’ or anything similar. The
captain had grown used to this treatment. His superiors told him they were just
jealous of his position, which wasn’t hard to believe.
“Make sure to carefully
inspect any cargo entering the city from the east. It might contain spies or
supplies for resistance forces.” He continued in his slightly high-pitched
voice, “And get a messenger ready at each watch tower. If an enemy is spotted,
send them here… that will be all.”
“Understood.” They muttered,
and left abruptly.
The captain sat back in his
chair, staring over his nose at the ceiling, but thinking to himself. An
invasion? An attack? The city was ringed by walls, and the river made it
unfeasible to attack from the back for anyone, making it easily defensible, but
he had no experience in this sort of thing. He’d only been dispatched from the
capital a little over a month ago, and had been promoted after the previous
guard captain had died at what was simply referred to as the ‘prison incident’,
when an entire structure had been exploded apart by an escaped prisoner. He
found it hard to believe until he had seen the rubble. How long had it been…?
* * *
Locked in his room within the castle, a lone
figure sat on the side of the bed, aimlessly polishing a sword lying on his
armoured lap. He had locked the door for his own protection, as advised, but he
didn’t have very much to do. He found he got bored extremely easily.
Looking out of the barred window into the night
sky, he sighed a little and started taking off his armour. Training was hard
and his instructor never went easy on him, but it was for the best. It’d help
him get strong, or at least that’s what they told him.
His mail had been specially tailored to fit
him, and he assumed they thought he was special if they were going to go to
that kind of expense. They’d had to alter it to his general build, but also had
to accommodate for his tail.
He had many names given that few people could
properly spell around here; Michael, Mikhail, Michel, Mikel, Mike, Mick, and
similar. He generally went by Mikhail, for that was the name as it appeared on
official documents pertaining to him, but he had to answer to all the others
and whatever new mispronunciations came up.
Though he didn’t know it, there was an
interesting story behind him. After a raid on an anthronian settlement now
eighteen years ago, under orders of the kingdom’s special researchers they
brought back an egg, as reluctant as the Dragon Slayers were to leave something
alive. But the researchers had incubated it near a fire until it hatched, then
underwent the expense of raising it within the castle walls. They figured he
would be an excellent tool against their foes, and an insight into their minds…
they made sure, of course, that he never met another Yoshi, and poisoned his
mind with lies to keep him loyal, something he naturally was unaware of.
Mikhail sighed and lay down on his back,
running a cherry red hand through his silvery hair. He’d never seen anybody who
looked like he did, not even in the books he had access to, but had been told
of creatures similar to himself. He was alone, but this was his home, and they
sheltered and taught him. They told him he’d been abandoned and he believed
them, pledging his loyalties to them. He’d been just a simple soldier talking to
the researchers now and again, but they said he had an important assignment of
some kind. What was it? Would he meet the people who had abandoned him? He’d
find out in the morning…
* * *
Mikhail yawned a little,
standing up. Whatever was coming could wait until he got some sleep. He had to
lead night watches, which disrupted his sleeping schedule, when combined with
the hours of training he had to put in and his efforts to keep the men in line
despite their disrespect for him. An escort of knights kept with him all the
time when he was outside his room, so he never got to talk to anyone outside
the guardhouse. He’d hardly ever seen any other Yoshies, and certainly never
talked to them, but from what he’d been told it would be better that way…
To be continued…