Free Dragon Frost by Kelvia-Lee Johnson

where
the weapons lay. What else is there to look for, to do when it is
all over? Everything that gave you the bit of strength to fight
that gave you the courage to stand before an army of twisted men
knowing that you’ll be nothing more than another victim? What do I
do? I kill. Without hesitation, I however, only kill those I know
are among the twisted and free. Without remorse nor regret knowing
that they cannot hurt anyone, even when they are dead, my soul
still battles theirs until they are completely erased from
existence.
    I was
angry for my loss but now as I glimpse at the sight of what just
might save me I feel a pit of emptiness forming. It often comes
when I know that I have to go beyond the limit. To kill or not to
kill is the question, isn’t it? Yet there are some that will
without hesitation. I stare at my arsenal and nod. “I’ll infiltrate
and I’ll neutralize.” I say and he nods.
    “ Just try
not to lose yourself.” In other words: “do  not  lose yourself to your
inner  demon ”.
     
    Later
that evening, I find myself standing on the edge cliff on a distant
mountain, feeling beyond free. Up here where the sky is the limit,
I feel more in tuned to my animal side than I ever thought I could
be. The ragged mountain overlooks the apostolic sin. Yet I have no
right to talk of sin when I’ve committed my own, still, I fight I
have no idea why when my anger burnt itself out years ago. I guess
if I can’t do what I can do, then who will? A question I know is
fairly ironic nonetheless I gaze upon the armed men in
uniform.  War a horrible outcome of greed.
    Hitherto,
they just like the humans, fearing what they cannot control. Fear
what they cannot predict and above all fear what they do not
understand. I am that embodiment of fear that they so desperately
try to govern and I inflict it without hesitation. I only hope that
Varden will never see this side of me. It is far from ladylike
might I say. A battlefield isn’t something that picks who walks on
it nor does it pick who suffers. My faceplate outlines the trees,
the grave sites, head stones, men and women.
    The sight of
the church with soldiers are positioned in a strategic manner,
several walk up and down the front of the church entrance while
there are some guards situated at the front of the wooden picketed
fence where at every fifteen or so meters there is another guard.
Some are archers while others are the general foot soldiers. I
notice they have a particular change in shift every five hours, I
only have just been surveying this place for now twelve hours. I
need to make sure that when I infiltrate, I can carry out my
mission.
    I know that not
all churches are bad. This however is corrupt.
    Not even
our people enjoy other races worshiping us like gods because we
aren’t. We may be a lot stronger faster and bestowed with magical
and energetic power that doesn’t necessarily mean we are going to
make everyone succumb to our wishes. Above all, that action will
just irritate me. I don’t like the power hungry kind of people. To
me they appear more insecure than anything else. Still, I try not
to make the world view us as such even though some still continue
to treat me differently.
    Not with
fear but with praise. That’s what I don’t like. The Nefaliem are
known to have many abilities that which includes flight, since I
can’t transform into my Nefaliem form. I’m somewhat flightless but
it doesn’t mean I can’t glide. My cloak is; my wings in this form
but because I can’t completely transform, I can only use it to
glide. It doesn’t make my infiltration missions any easier not that
it matters—no point in everything being easy.
    The easier it
is, the less I try.
    I
remember when we were in the Kalzan plains, Sparta. The terrain was
rough and bare. Not much cover was given and at that time we had to
work alongside with the rebel soldiers. They were rough and had the
whole caveman appearance. Their colours that of red and gold,