“Watch out below!” A shout came from above Hemmelle.

Hemmelle pressed himself into the mountain face. The cold stone of the Car Lauch Mountains was cold and unforgiving, even in the summer. He could feel the cold in his bones as he pressed himself to the stone and prayed to Palegh, the god of war.

His face was pressed up against his arm, the ink of the dragon showing. It wrapped around his arm and it’s face snarled on the back of his hand.

The tattoo filled him with pride. He was of the Dragon Legion. It was in his blood.

The wait felt like an eternity. He wondered what the pit he was doing on this mountain. Why did he agree to this?

The tell tale swoosh of stones flying downward passed Hemelle. He let out a breath and looked up, cracking his eyes part way open to look up the rock face.

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The two other men, Pathos and Ethers, who had been sent with him were climbing up the rock face, not quite a straight pitch, but steep enough that if you were not climbing up with all fours, you’d not likely make it.

“You alive?” Ethers asked downward.

Hemmelle bit back a retort to the young solider and instead shifted his gaze to Pathos.

The young man had grown up in the mountains, and knew this pass like Hemmelle knew his own sword.

“How much longer?” Hemmelle asked the youth, a few body lengths ahead of him.

Pathos looked up at Ethers and then back down to Hemmelle. “He should be nearing the top. We should have waited the evening.”

“The General commands us to make haste. So we will. Move!” Hemmelle barked.

In the fading light of the day, the two young men moved upward. Hemmelle struggled to keep up.

His mission was to make it to the Argu. As fast as possible, as quietly as possible. They were the shield of the tribes. Men and women that had no familes left. The ones that dedicated themselves to protecting thier people, all of the northren tribes.

Dragh had told him, as fast as possible.

Hemmelle followed the youths, trusting that the young tribesman Ethers knew the way. He glanced back, pausing in his ragged breaths. The sun setting to the west over the mountains, a sliver still blazing red over the top of the Car Lauch.

“The blood red sky at night.” Hemmelle whispered to himself.

He shook his head. Memories of Ralarians still haunted his waking moments. Fighting and killing on the ocean. The Dragon Legion has bloodied itself on land and sea.