A reptilian shriek fractured the night. Shadows shifted through the trees, claws tearing at the earth in a wild frenzy as spurred heels dug deeper into scaly flesh. Silence. Outside the village of Secra, moonlight filtered through the jungle canopy, coils of darkness evaporating into the clearing as a hand, an eye, a boy of seventeen emerged into the light. Beneath him, clawed feet dug into the rich, dark earth, scales reflecting midnight as the armored salamander awaited orders from a second rider. A call rang out, then shouts resounding in the dark, and then silence once more as each of the legionnaires raised his arm before him and a jet of flame erupted from each calloused palm. Smoke poured from the first few huts in billowing cataracts, acrid and black, and screams burst from the night. The boy glanced down at the stone in his left hand, it's sanguine face glimmering in the fire's glow. His right arm raised, he took a deep breath, and the flecks of gold in his eyes shimmered for just a moment before a stream of flame blossomed from the center of his hand and night was consumed in the blaze. Bent human shapes stumbled through the yellow haze, smoky silhouettes blowing into the night, and somewhere beneath the ashen pall covering Secra, a quavering voice repressed sobs as it hushed a child's cry. Coughing, wailing. A dusky shape emerged from the wreckage of a hut, its raw and blistered hands dragging from the firestorm a smoldering bundle, ragged breath now fled.
The boy's [Jonah's] voice caught in his throat as he began: "Sir, I haven't seen any Resistance forces."
"Oh, they're here somewhere, you can be sure of that." The lieutenant's eyes glittered as he called out to the rest of the company. "On to the central compound. Dismount and sweep the area. Search every hut." Twelve couatls surged forward to the rattle of claws on gnarled roots, and thirteen uniformed figures faded into smoky obscurity.
The heart of the village came into view as the riders tore through the smoky scrim. The boy shifted backwards on the heavy saddle so that the stirrups supported his weight, but just as he was about to swing his leg over and leap to the ground, the gruff voice behind him rumbled, "We wait here." The other soldiers had already disappeared into a sprawling longhouse made from banyan roots, and frantic shapes flickered through the shadows as villagers fled their homes to seek sanctuary in the jungle's dark embrace. The smaller, surrounding huts were already ablaze, and for a moment, just before the first wave of smoke encompassed the boy, he thought he glimpsed a native girl--a young woman--peering challengingly at him through the haze. Then smoke swallowed his vision, and she was gone, as though but a dream.
"Sir, there's nothing here. Just women and children." The soldier's shout jerked the boy back into reality, back into the cinders and the smoke.
"They've got to be here somewhere. They must have known we were coming and hid them." The lieutenant stared into the blaze for a moment, the fire's glow reflected in eyes of flint, and then turned to the soldiers now congregated in front of the longhouse. "Mount up, men, and move out. But before we go..." The boy felt his commanding officer's gaze boring into the back of his head. "...set fire to the compound."
The young woman looked on from the edge of the clearing.
The rest was lost in the smoke and the roar of the firestorm
Compound ends up getting torched
Mounted soldiers disappeared into the jungle, ghosts melding once more into the smoldering darkness.
The boy's [Jonah's] voice caught in his throat as he began: "Sir, I haven't seen any Resistance forces."
"Oh, they're here somewhere, you can be sure of that." The lieutenant's eyes glittered as he called out to the rest of the company. "On to the central compound. Dismount and sweep the area. Search every hut." Twelve couatls surged forward to the rattle of claws on gnarled roots, and thirteen uniformed figures faded into smoky obscurity.
The heart of the village came into view as the riders tore through the smoky scrim. The boy shifted backwards on the heavy saddle so that the stirrups supported his weight, but just as he was about to swing his leg over and leap to the ground, the gruff voice behind him rumbled, "We wait here." The other soldiers had already disappeared into a sprawling longhouse made from banyan roots, and frantic shapes flickered through the shadows as villagers fled their homes to seek sanctuary in the jungle's dark embrace. The smaller, surrounding huts were already ablaze, and for a moment, just before the first wave of smoke encompassed the boy, he thought he glimpsed a native girl--a young woman--peering challengingly at him through the haze. Then smoke swallowed his vision, and she was gone, as though but a dream.
"Sir, there's nothing here. Just women and children." The soldier's shout jerked the boy back into reality, back into the cinders and the smoke.
"They've got to be here somewhere. They must have known we were coming and hid them." The lieutenant stared into the blaze for a moment, the fire's glow reflected in eyes of flint, and then turned to the soldiers now congregated in front of the longhouse. "Mount up, men, and move out. But before we go..." The boy felt his commanding officer's gaze boring into the back of his head. "...set fire to the compound."
The young woman looked on from the edge of the clearing.
The rest was lost in the smoke and the roar of the firestorm
Compound ends up getting torched
Mounted soldiers disappeared into the jungle, ghosts melding once more into the smoldering darkness.
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