Chapter 28: Fairez Stella (Part 1/3)

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           One of the hunter's voices ripped across the trail, raw with fear and urgency as Locke stepped forwards. "Song Bird! Scatter!" 

          A sharp whistle sounded, the yipping dogs rounding up behind the dragon hunters as they all booked it in the opposite direction of Locke, all but the one hunter still wriggling in Talli's hold. 

          Locke let out a sharp whistle of his own, one beast heeding the call as a spiky black dragon swooped overhead, creating a gale of wind with its massive wings as it dived at the trail to stop the hunters in their tracks. At first, Káel thought it was a Nomad dragon, until it's amber eyes sparked with familiarity. She was the dragon Locke called Nel, now with a wingspan wider than the trail, and a row of glistening white fangs big enough to bite the hunters in half. 

          Káel felt Truvius tug at his elbow, slowly allowing his friend to inch him closer to Talli and Vera  at the edge of the path. The dogs had taken to barking at Nel, their yips pitched an octave higher as they bent with more fear than ferocity at the massive drake. 

          "These aren't your hunting grounds Valerans," Locke spoke, ceasing his approach as the hunters readied their weapons. 

          "Not yours either bird," the bow wielding man spat, his weapon half stretched to aim at the ground for cautious conversation to be made. "How about we both pass by and think nothing of it?" 

          "Think nothing of the arrow you pointed at a child of Acadrius? If I'm not to do something, his majesty Cilvren surely will," Locke replied, his next step causing the bow wielding hunter to lift his weapon and stretch it back fully. "It looks as though you thought something of this dragon as you passed a group of kids."

          "They attacked first," another hunter snarled, the bark in their voice ill fitted to the slowly retreating steps. "Drake's Gable's property it is, thieves'll get it the same, damned if there's a crown on their head or rags on their back. Kids to old crones, everyone knows better than to take what isn't their own." 

          "A statement I can agree with," Locke replied, his lips curving as the Valerans stiffened even more. "I don't suppose any of you squeezed a dragon egg out from between those legs," he said, the joke dying amongst the group of men as he stopped bouncing the blade between his fingers, pinching the silver slit of metal to fan it out into five-feather thin blades. "Surprising, considering everyone knows better than to take what isn't their own."

          Káel winced at the snap of a bow, only cracking his eyes open when the scream that pierced the air didn't fit Locke's richer tone. He watched as the bow wielding hunter stumbled to the ground, a butt of reflective metal sticking out just above his left knee as he squirmed in pain. 

          Locke hadn't moved from the attack, but he now had four glinting blades fanned between his fingers, and a rough black arrow clenched in his other hand. 

          "The first to cast a spell, lumience or magic, will have a feather in their throat," Locke spoke, snapping the arrow in his grip and dropping the two halves at his feet. "Surrender. I'll make sure the rest of you can walk home."

          "Surrender!" Káel perked at the sound that came from beside him, the mop haired man still held still by Talli no longer fighting her grip as he watched his friends with pleading fear. "That bird's not normal, Gable will forgive us for his last location, surrender!"

          "And tell Gable we wet our pants when we saw a Song Bird?!" one of his companions shrieked, the rest of his group rising with warped morale by his words. "Die in shame skatlicker, you can't even squirm from that child, wombgrub."

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