The War Against Aberon (Rough Draft #1)

Twenty-One

    The swords clashed in a shower of sparks. The force of the blow caused the metal to vibrate down into Zaffre's arm. A week ago she likely would've dropped the sword from something so strong, but this was her new normal. Zaffre spun away from the connection and circled 'round her opponent. She observed the way he walked, his grip on his own sword, the look in his eyes. Every detail was under her scrutiny. She stepped forward and swung. He parried her blow with the ease of practice and made his counter almost as soon as he'd blocked her strike. The pace picked up as they were a flurry of movement.

    She was back on the defensive and kept her senses aware of any possible opening to gain the upper hand. Her moment came in a new break from the skirmish. He'd stepped away this time from locking their blades. Before her opponent had an opportunity to think of his next move or defend himself, Zaffre struck. Her sword swung out to be met with his blade that he caught purely from reflex. However, he didn't see in his distraction her knee that came up to knock into his gut. Partially pushing herself away with the movement, she brought her tail around the back of his knee and felled him to his back. Before the man could get up she placed a booted foot onto his chest and placed her sword at his neck.

    Zaffre was breathing heavily as she stared down at the man, a feeling of apprehension rising as she dared him with her eyes to try and get up. The tension broke as he laughed deep in his chest and Zaffre smiled as she pulled away from him wiping sweat from her brow.

    "That was good, you've improved greatly, though watch your footing when making an overhead strike," he spoke. "You were a little loose on your form and that's what caused your hit to land on the lower part of the forte."

    "I'll keep that in mind for next time Mercy." Zaffre nodded as she moved to the edge of their training circle. She sat on the grass to start some cool-down exercises as her mentor sat beside her. As Lieutenant Robert Mercy stretched out after their workout she finally began to take in the world outside their training bubble. There were at least a hundred soldiers in training out in the field as they practiced hand to hand or bladed combat. Lots of noise flooded the area as instructors carried out orders and swords clanged together in a menagerie of metal-on-metal sounds.

    Not long ago the whole space overwhelmed her, but Zaffre had grown used to and actually quite fond of the field. It was a beautiful distraction from everything that was happening to her. She was still quite upset over being torn from home and missed her parents dearly. Her fear over what would happen in her absence could crush kingdoms. She preferred not to think about it, especially with being banned from writing home. Apparently, she wasn't to be distracted by any means from the war. That was another thing plaguing her mind. After the conversation with Vale Havon leaders, she was dragged away to be brought to this camp in prep for the war.

    Her bond to Freya made her experience here different from others. She trained more intensely for more hours, received guidance from those with high ranks in the army, and was to be told everything she needed to know about protecting the kingdom and fighting Aberon. Since the Pumeon was her bond her body got some perks from the soul connection. She healed faster, built endurance quicker, and could retain new movements better than the rest of the recruits. That only helped her so much when she was against soldiers that'd been fighting for longer than she'd been alive more often than not. She understood the army's need for fighters, however, she couldn't get over the fact that she could not have contact with the outside world. Why were they cutting her off? She'd spied on others with parchment and quills in their hands before. Why did they get to write home but she couldn't?

    It was something that confused her and made her angry. Except there wasn't anything she could do about it. She'd asked Mercy before, and some of her other training partners, but no one gave her a straight answer. It grated on her.

    Zaffre let out a huff as she finished stretching and stood up. Freya got up from her claimed spot under a tree and lightly bumped her shoulder into Zaffre's back. They looked into each other's eyes a moment. The purple gazed Big Cat asked if she was alright, and the yellow-eyed Felipara replied she was fine through their look. When Freya remained insistent, Zaffre finally shook her head with a smile, replying verbally. "I'm fine really Freya, stop being a worrywart," she said.

    "I really don't understand how you two do that," Mercy butted in. His statement was full of awe as he looked at them. Zaffre laughed at his expression as she ignored Freya's huff over their conversation being interrupted.

    "Sometimes I wonder the same thing, Freya's intuitive when she wants to be." Zaffre looked the Pumeon over with eyes that spoke of adoring annoyance. The Big Cat was decidedly quiet at the light-hearted jibe. 

Word Count-905

A/N:

So I finally finished another chapter. I know I'm no longer in the ONC, but I promise I'm still finishing this book! I'm getting to a part of it that I'm very much looking forward to writing as we near the final few chapters! Plus maybe a few extra since I'm no longer confined by the word limit of the ONC. At the very least I can include an epilogue/preview for the next book in this series of sorts I've now got playing in my head a bit. Keep in mind that won't happen for a long while. 

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoyed it. Hopefully, I'll have the next chapter out sometime soon. 

See you next time!

S

P.S. I'm trying out a new author's note closing/pseudonym for myself. Does S sound as cool and mysterious as I want it to be?