Chapter 1: Beginnings
Dilandau smirked.
He leaned back with a satisfied groan as he surveyed the pile of folders on his desk. With his new status as the Captain of the Dragon Slayers, he had been given the task of choosing the Slayers. After much deliberation and frustration, he finally had his elite soldiers. Delicious shivers of battle lust coursed through his veins as he imagined the mayhem they will create together.
His laughter echoed through the room.
*******************
Chesta wiped the sweat off his brow.
He picked up a water bottle and poured the cool liquid all over his face. Working in the garden was hard work but it was even harder in the middle of the day. But as he surveyed the thriving plants, he smiled with satisfaction and decided it was worth it.
"Oni chan! I need some help!"
Chesta turned toward Suzie and helped her with the harvest bag. "Just remember, Suzie, only pick the red ones. Don't pick the green tomatoes."
"Okay!" Suzie scampered off to pick more tomatoes.
All of the children were busy picking the vegetables. The orphanage they lived in had a very small support so they tried to be as independent as possible. This garden was one of the things the children did to better the orphanage. Chesta was the oldest and he felt responsible for all of them. He tried to help Anita, the owner of the orphanage, as much as he can. After all, this was the only family he had ever known.
"Chesta! Chesta! A letter came for you!!"
Tyler ran toward him and thrust the envelope under Chesta's nose. He accepted the letter with dirt stained hands and thanked Tyler. The little boy ran off to help the rest of his friends.
Chesta's hands shook as he stared down at the plain white envelope. He flipped it and saw the address of the sender and his heart quickened.
"It's here. It's finally here."
He ran to his room and ripped open the letter to devour the words swimming before his eyes. It said:
Congratulations, Chesta Landry, you have been accepted into the elite group of the Dragon Slayers. A transport will arrive a day after this letter to bring you to our headquarters, where you shall receive special training to serve the glory of Zaibach. Be proud of your new status and prepare for battle.
Dragon Slayers Captain,
Dilandau Albatou.
A quiet numb settled over his brain. All he could see in his mind was the first time he saw a guymelef. He had been 8 years old when the orphanage took a trip to the city. The road had been severely crowded and he had accidentally lost sight of his friends. Crying his eyes out, he had wandered the city, looking for Anita and the children. But they were nowhere to be seen.
As night descended onto the streets, Chesta heard shouts and cheers from a gigantic stadium. He sneaked into the building and watched in wonder as the magnificent guymelefs did battle. Awestruck, he couldn't pry his eyes from the fluid movements of mechanized armour. After the tournament had finished, he had stumbled back home, tired and hungry. Anita had been sick with worry but didn't have the heart to scold the little boy for long. She had enveloped him in her embrace and had made him promise not to leave her side again.
He had made that promise with a solemn face and he had meant it with all of his heart.
Chesta looked down at his letter of acceptance.
But it seemed he couldn't keep his promise any longer.
A knock on his door broke his silent reverie.
"May I come in?"
Chesta scrambled off his bed and opened the door. Anita came in and smiled at him. Her eyes immediately zeroed onto the letter and her smile faltered.
"Tyler told me you got a letter today."
"Yes…I did."
The silence was a heavy presence.
"I've been accepted into the Dragon Slayers."
Anita clasped her hands tightly and tried not to show her apprehension. "Congratulations, Chesta. You deserve it. You've worked so hard for years, training night and day. The army life is hard and with small allowances. Despite this you still visit us and help me run this orphanage." She had to force her last words. "You've earned this and I'm very happy for you."
Chesta shook his head. "I'm thinking of declining the offer."
"What?" asked Anita. She knew how much this meant to Chesta. "Why would you even think of such a thing?"
"I love you, Anita. I love everyone here. I wanted this so badly…to be someone and not just an insignificant kid, abandoned and unwanted." A pained grimace crossed his face. "But now, I'm not so sure anymore."
Anita grabbed his hand and shook her head in denial. "No, Chesta. Don't ever think such a thing." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I have to admit that the idea of you going off to war doesn't please me, but you mustn't give up on your dreams."
Carefully, she cupped his sweet face in her hands. "And when you've accomplished many great feats, come back to us."
"I will."
The children gathered around him as he waited for the transport to arrive. Some of them were crying, clutching his shirt in their tiny hands.
"Do you have to go, Oni chan? I hate it when you have to go…"
"Stay Chesta! Don't leave!"
Chesta hugged every one of the children and emblazoned their faces in his mind. He finally hugged Anita as she tried not to cry.
"Goodbye, Chesta. Be careful."
"Goodbye, everyone."
Then the transport arrived and the driver called his name. He gave a last farewell to all the children and slowly backed away. He whirled around and ran to the transport, trying to hide his own tears.
"I'll make you all proud of me! I promise!"
*******************
"Master Gatti, your Father wants to see you in the library."
Gatti carefully placed his sword back into its scabbard. "Thank you, Martin. Tell Father I'll be there shortly."
"Very good, sir." The butler left with a soft whoosh of the gymnasium's door.
Gatti stared at the mirrored walls and his reflections stared back. The look they gave him was not of happiness. He sighed and got ready for a meeting with his father.
The library was plush and filled with all the classics. Sadly, the books weren't there for reading but just to show off the wealth of the Esario family. They've been a military oriented family for many generations. Awards of valour and courage decorated the walls of the mansion. All the men of his family were expected to join the army and excel in everything. Gatti's older brother was already a decorated officer, famous in Zaibach for his skills as a guymelef pilot.
Admiral Otto Byron Luther Esario stood by the fireplace with his back turned. He was a strict man, whose life revolved around the army. Even his family took second place to his military career. A fault that Gatti had resented all of his life.
"You called for me, sir."
Otto faced his second son and inspected him. Gatti was dressed in his military uniform like he had been ordered to. He was small compared to his brother and had been a constant disappointment to Otto. He had never understood how Gatti could be such a failure when he was an Esario, a family known for its brilliant military men. He was determined to remedy the situation.
"Gatti…I have good news."
"What is it, Father?"
"I have pulled some strings and have found a placement for you in the Dragon Slayers. It is still a relatively new group but its excellence is not questioned. Lord Folken recommends the Captain highly and I want you to get some battle experience. Of course this is not permanent. It is merely a stepping stone for something much greater. You will leave tomorrow to start your training."
Gatti clenched his fist in anger. "What if I don't want to go, Father."
Otto carelessly waved off the idea. "Nonsense. Of course you want to join. Don't you want to be like your brother and reap glory on the battlefield?"
Gatti's anger rose as he thought of his older brother, Connor. He was 10 years older than him and had always loved to tease and torment Gatti.
"Be like Connor? Why would I? Wasn't he defeated in the last tournament? And by a rookie no less."
Gatti's father showed no facial reaction to this accusation. "True…even Esarios can make mistakes. Connor was properly reprimanded for his lose. He won't repeat it."
Yes…Connor was punished…20 lashes was more than enough to make sure Connor won't repeat his mistake.
"I have already decided this Gatti. You will join the Dragon Slayers." He turned his back to Gatti. "And this time, try not to disappoint me."
Gatti's mind whirled with all of the things he wanted to say to his father. All of the things that have boiled in his young heart for as long as he can remember. To yell his anger and to scream his hate. But in the end…fear won.
"Yes, Father."
Gatti saluted his father and left the library. He walked back to the gymnasium, his face a mask of stone.
His reflections stared back at him, taunting him, calling him a coward. He drew his sword and smashed the images, the shattered pieces raining down on him. Screaming his rage, Gatti destroyed every single mirror in the room.
When his sanity finally returned, he leaned against the wall and hoped that the bad luck will be his undoing. He was too afraid to end it all himself.
*******************
Migel grunted as a fist plowed into this gut.
He groaned in pain and crumpled to the ground. The Sergeant kicked him in the ribs and watched in sick pleasure as Migel rolled into a little ball of pain.
"Get up you worthless piece of shit and face me like a man."
Migel glared up at the overweight Sergeant and spit onto his boots.
"Oh…so you're going to give me attitude, eh? Well, I'll fix that!"
He kicked Migel in the ribs again. He tried not to cry out but it was useless, it was too painful to bear.
"Enough Sergeant!"
The sadistic Sergeant turned away from Migel and saluted the Colonel. "Just teaching some discipline, sir!"
Colonel Tristan gave the Sergeant a distasteful look. "Discipline or punishment?" The Sergeant's face turned red with anger.
"Your dismissed, Sergeant."
"Yes, sir!" With a click of his boots, he left the courtyard.
The Colonel helped Migel up to his feet. "Anything broken?"
Migel pushed the Colonel's hand away. "I'm fine, sir."
Tristan frowned at Migel as the boy tried to hide his pain. "I want to have a word with you, soldier." Then he set off at a quick pace toward his office. Migel followed reluctantly.
The office was simple and organized, reflecting the Colonel's personality. He sat behind the desk and Migel took the seat facing him. Tristan sized up the injuries that Migel had suffered under the Sergeant's brutality. A black eye, broken lip, and from the way Migel hugged his sides, bruised ribs. He'd had to have a word with the Sergeant about over doing his discipline.
"How long have you been in my camp, Lavariel?"
"7 months, sir."
"And in that 7 months, what have you accomplished?"
Migel looked away and stared at the wall silently.
"I'll tell you what you've accomplished. You've managed to break every single rule in this facility, causing brawls and disruptions, blatantly disobeying orders, and being a total jackass."
The Colonel slammed his hands down onto the desk and glared furiously at Migel. "I did not save your neck so you can act like an idiot and lose any chances you have for a future!!" Tristan breathed deeply and tried to calm himself. He sat back down into his seat.
"Do you remember where I found you, Lavariel? You were about to be executed for first degree murder. But it was plain to see that the judgment had been false and you had only killed that man in self-defense. Do you know how I know this?"
Migel just stared at Tristan blankly.
"Every man has the capacity to kill, Lavariel. But it takes a different breed to enjoy that killing, to achieve satisfaction from it. I've seen my share of these men and I knew right away that you weren't one of them. You can kill, that I'm sure of. But I doubt you derived any perverse pleasure from it. Did you, Lavariel?"
"No, sir. I did not."
"What did you feel?"
Migel's whole body stiffened at the memory. He had been sleeping in an alley, so hungry and cold when the man had attacked him. He had struck the man with a metal rod and split his skull. Migel would never forget what he felt when he heard the skull crack and watched as his attacker slumped to the ground. The feeling always made him want to puke.
"I felt sick to my stomach, sir."
Tristan probed Migel's face to see if this was a falsehood and found no guile.
"I also saved you because I saw the intelligence and the potential that you had. Despite your attitude, you've managed to become an excellent guymelef pilot. You're the best pilot in this camp, proving my initial opinion of you. But you lack some very important things all soldiers must have. You have no respect for authority and your ability to work with others is laughable. Ever heard of teamwork, Lavariel? It is essential in the battlefield to carry out your superior's orders while co-operating with your fellow soldiers. I won't have anymore of your sauce and it ends here!"
The Colonel threw an envelope at Migel, which he caught deftly out of the air.
"I have sent in an application for you to the Dragon Slayers. I'm sure you've heard of them."
Migel opened the letter and quickly scanned the pages. His eyes widened at the words.
"Congratulations, Lavariel. You've been accepted. You leave the camp tomorrow to start your training. Go pack your bags."
He got up from his seat and slowly made for the door.
"Migel?"
Migel turned and looked at the Colonel.
"Don't do anything reckless."
Slowly, a cocky smile surfaced on Migel's face. "Reckless, sir? Never!"
He left the room. The Colonel opened a folder that contained information about the Dragon Slayers. His eyes immediately went to a photo of the Dragon Slayers Captain.
"Yes, Migel…it takes a different breed to enjoy killing…and Dilandau Albatou is certainly one of them. I hope I did the right thing for you."
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