Cipher Code {complete}

Chapter Eight: Cannon Fodder •EDITED•

Philip could not say that he was a happy man, fighting his way to success in a forest while placing his life in the hands of nobles who didn't care for his presence and Theodore seemed to realize this. After all, he was the horse Philip had used since childhood, a proud and dark stallion of pure breed and high pedigree.

He was naturally intelligent and slowed to a gentle canter out of consideration for its rider's riled emotions.

Philip unconsciously let a good natured smile form on his lips and petted the beast's mane, momentarily forgetting about his aches and stomach upsets. "Maybe this isn't so bad."

He shut his eyes, letting the calm of his surroundings wash over him as he did. We'll soon be there. . .

†

Immediately after receiving the Corey's seal of approval, the Cipher Squad selected hundred capable riders-all nobles-from the army and set them on the fastest and least complicated route to Nicia.

The journey was a calculatedly straight line and the shortest distance that could be traversed.

There were only ten major towns in the state so the soldiers were divided up accordingly with a group of ten for each settlement and the developing areas around it.

It took a month for the cavalry unit Philip was assigned to to finally get to Lacau, a small town next to Silo-a city they had already checked and found completely wiped out.

The heavy breathing of the exhausted horses that had raced here with almost no break were the only sounds that could be heard through the outskirts of the quiet town.

At the lead of the group was Captain Issac Westley. Rumor had it that he was only a step away from getting the rank of Major, and in the entire hundred man unit he was the highest ranked officer.

This fact filled the cavalrymen that rode with him with pride.

Yet in this group was also the lowest ranked person available in the entire army, a messenger by the name of Philip Tyndale.

No one knew why he was included in the ten man team, and Issac himself only knew that the orders were straight from Cipher.

Apart from that the captain was completely clueless.

Philip rode in the back, also completely mystified by the entire situation. Why would the minister send his most prized soldier out on a suicide mission?

His gaze fell on Issac's back, the furthest it could go after being enhanced by his goggles. The captain's dark blue uniform looked especially green through the specially designed lenses, so green that it almost evaporated the guilt he felt.

With slightly trembling fingers, Philip tugged up the mask sowed into his new uniform to cover more of his face. He felt uncomfortable being in the new color even though everyone wore the same.

Blue was a sign that you had become a captain, no one below that rank had the right to wear that color of uniform, because it was an honor.

I have no reason to wear this. . . Philip poured over the fact despondently, a strange sense of remorse gnawing at the pit of his gut. I don't deserve this.

What. . . Despite the endless barrage of thoughts that barreled into his mind, Philip managed to stay wary of his surroundings, raised to be ever vigilant. So when he saw a shadow move through the corner of his eyes, his body stilled instinctively.

Fog isn't supposed to act like that. Immediately the thought sunk, his hand fell to the Sol rifle that hung at his waist. While he readied his kind for an attack, his other hand tapped against the knob at the side of his glasses to adjust his range of sight.

His vision exploded into a world of white light, the exaggerated green vanishing as the vivid and pulsing bright blues of his companions uniforms pulsed like beacons in his new world colored pure snow.

Philip hissed as his gaze fell to the spot where he had seen the figure watching traces of red light dance around the area and slowly grow in number. His expression changed into one of disbelief as he raised his gaze back to his group.

In a matter of seconds, several specks of red had moved in to surround them. It was an ambush.

He let out a low curse and pushed the butt of his rifle against his shoulder, attracting the gazes of the men closest to him as he took aim at the nearest spot of red.

"Ha," one of the soldiers dared to laugh, "it seems like the messenger is already afraid."

Philip didn't react to the tease, his breathing slowing down as he prepared to shoot.

Make every shot count, he remembered what his grandfather told him as he placed his finger on the trigger.

As usual, the old man was right to teach him how to handle a rifle. Philip just never thought it would save his life one day.

Nobles are more into helming FCMs than practicing marksmanship anyway.

He let go of the reins and swiveled to the right, about the let lasers fly. If the dots didn't attack that was good, but if they did then the men who were laughing at him could already be considered dead. By being unprepared they would simply be befriending the ambush, not that he was sure they'd survive even if their rifles weren't just for show.

"I wonder how many of us will survive this." Philip let out a dark chuckle.

He didn't feel optimistic at all. The life of cannon fodder, he could only sigh at his rotten luck.

†

AN: Hey guys. I decided not to distract you with author's notes till you got to this point.

What do you think about the story? How about Philip, Dawn and Corey? What do you think about The Code?

I'm eager to reply to your comments so don't hold back. Don't forget to vote too!