A Solution Through Shadows Chapter X

“Stand down, Andubhar,” one of the Vanguards shouted, leading his partner with the sword drawn. “And I’ll give you a quick death ‘fore the King’s Will get involved.”

“I’ve been accused of a crime I didn’t commit!” Oren shouted back. “I need to speak to the commander now!”

The red-banded Vanguard scoffed. “You’re not worth the commander’s time.” He stepped into Oren’s space and readied his sword arm for a decapitating blow.

Oren angled his body away from the swift, downward stroke, and shoved the soldier into the ground before pivoting away from the next man, sticking his foot out to trip them in the motion.

“Fire!”

Rolling along the ground, Oren rose and cartwheeled off the dirt as an arrow sailed by, taking a knee as the last of the three arrows flew past.

He eyed the archers, all unfazed by his maneuvering from their projectiles as they nocked another arrow. Oren regarded the recovering swordsmen as they surrounded him.

“Sergeant, if you agree to let me see Commander Richard, I swear—”

Oren turned back and caught the sword hand of the stalking Vanguard before throwing him to the ground with a growl.

“I swear to allow my arrest. Whether I face the King’s Will or not,” he finished, keeping his eyes trained on the archers.

“And why would a murderer be heard?” the sergeant asked, getting up with a scowl.

“Because I killed no one.” Oren glared in return. “The ackans who reported the crimes framed me of somethin’ I didn’t do. The sword I stole has gone to Air Fhagail.”

“Criminals will be treated as a humanoid no more once a felony is committed,” the sergeant said, readying his sword. “Whatever you have to say will only be regarded if the vanguard deems it worth attention. And as far as I care, your words fall on deaf ears.”

Oren pursed his lips, bringing his hands up. “Guess I’ll try my luck elsewhere.”

The two swordsmen surrounded Oren as best they could, but Oren charged at the sergeant who aimed a thrust for his chest.

Oren ducked under and rolled to the left side, staying low as the round shield sailed over his head and log rolled along the ground to avoid the downward thrust, sinking into the dirt.

Hooking his foot at the officer’s ankle, Oren pulled his leg back and brought the armored man down before getting up to face the other.

Leading with the shield, the next swordsman approached, blade extended to the side. Oren stepped closer to his opponent, catching the archers in his peripheral and the grounded leader. The vanguard swung out with an overhead swipe, Oren sidestepping as the man continued his rotation and sideswiped for the thief’s feet. Oren jumped, twisting his torso and legs into the air to fly over the blade before landing without a sign of exertion.

The soldier raised his shield arm and threw a punch for Oren’s chest, but Oren bent backward, rolling into the ground and left the warrior to regain composure, and thrust for the vulnerable thief. Oren remained crouched and moved to the man’s right side. Finding the vanguard’s back turned, Oren rose from the ground and shoved shoulder first into the man and sent him tumbling into the path.

“Fire!”

Oren allowed his momentum to carry him over the vanguard, avoiding an arrow and picking up the grounded swordsman in front of him, to swing the man up as a shield, and listen to the thuds of the projectiles connecting with their unintended target.

“Soldier’s struck!”

Oren huffed, tossing the stricken man to the archers, and continued his sprint for the quila’s forest, where he expected no resistance from them.

Oren moved closer to the wall and scanned it for discrepancies. Listening to the shouts and yells behind him, running for a long stretch time until a lone soldier stepped in Oren’s way besides a green field.

Slowing down before the vanguard wearing two green bands, Oren couldn’t discern the race. Scaly skin with a protruding jaw whose canine teeth poked out of his mouth and small eyes settled closer to the body. His hands had pointed nails but were shaped like a human’s, feet wide by their tri-toed shape.

“What’re you?” Oren asked as the vanguard stepped forward with his hand on his sword.

“The means to your end,” the man had a thick voice. He stopped two yards away from Oren to regard him with his slanted, slit eyes. “I take it you’re who's caused all this ruckus? The Andubhar?”

Oren shifted in his spot, eyeing the sword at the humanoid’s side. “And you, if I may ask?”

“Lieutenant Cinead of the Mining District,” the humanoid introduced with some force.

“A little far from the post, aren’t you?” Oren jerked his head to the path behind him, but the Lieutenant remained still.

“Why does it matter when a criminal as dangerous as yourself is on the loose?”

“It doesn’t. I need to talk to Commander Richard,” Oren requested, relaxing a moment, but Cinead loosened his sword from its sheath, and Oren tensed again. “I’m being framed for a murder I didn’t commit.”

“Are you trying to convince me you should be trusted?” Cinead asked with a tightened brow. “Your rights, as granted by the aleckso monarchy, were stripped when you were found guilty of your crimes.”

Oren gritted his teeth. “I’m not guilty. I have information your commander may want.”

Cinead drew his sword, pointing the slender blade to Oren’s direction, which Oren looked at in confusion. Curved and bone white, unlike the straight, gray edge the vanguard carried.

“Without others to confirm what you would to say, how do I know you are to be trusted?”

Oren scoffed. “Then how do the vanguard willin’ly trust the ackans if they’ve been repeatedly convicted of theft and lies?”

“I’m not here to discuss a race’s integrity,” Cinead dismissed Oren with a steeled gaze. “You’re buying yourself time in a world that will despise you, even if given a chance to live. I’ve appeased your wishes, now accept your fate.”

The humanoid stepped forward, pulling his arm back as Oren brought his hands up and bent his knees and thrust his sword to Oren, catching the human off guard as he turned his body away by the simple grace and momentum of the attack. The vanguard spun with spaced feet and brought his sword in a sweeping motion towards Oren’s legs jumping out of the way, shaking Oren more of the unfamiliar method.

Oren backed into the stalks of green, his eyes watching the lieutenant’s figure disappear the further he went in. His vision flashed for a moment, of an ackan doing the same, but the man shook his head and slipped further into the crops.

“You have nowhere to turn!” Cinead shouted some distance away. “Why keep up this resistance when it ends in your death?”

Oren grounded himself and listened to the lieutenant’s hunt through the field. “It’s not death I fear; it’s the lies that will haunt my grave. When the truth speaks, I will die content.”

Cinead’s movement stopped, and Oren held his breath for the man to move again, peering between the vegetation to find the man.

“All men fear death. You don’t fool me, human,” the humanoid’s voice said some distance away to Oren’s right.

Oren’s mouth twitched. “I think I have.”

“Humor me then,” the voice said behind him.

Oren’s mind froze, rolling away from the voice and sword cutting stalks, turning back to find the lieutenant had crept on him to his hiding place. Yellow eyes pierced through the shifting cover as the vanguard roared and moved wildly through the crops.

Oren scrambled away from the swinging monstrosity, tripping over his feet as the humanoid continued to make his scene. His mind flashed back and forth between brilliant green, and dark corners; gasping for breath, struggling to form a thought, and flailing out of the crops.

“Get away from ME!” Oren cried out, scrambling from the dirt, and stepping away from the field of crops, tense searching for Cinead.

The lieutenant lunged out of the green with an overhead thrust/ Oren responded fast enough as the blade to sink into the earth he stood, but the humanoid pulled it out just as quick, swinging and hacking at Oren from all possible angles he could manage.

In doing everything he could to avoid the weapon’s touch, Oren collected his thoughts and tightened his body, forcing the vanguard to do the same.

He thought the humanoid was no ordinary soldier, beyond having a rank. His swings reminded Oren of the one Kentigern used to decapitate Geob, and looking down to his large feet, Oren watched them shuffle across the ground in straight lines, clean arcs, or step in shifting his body position.

A leg lurched up, and Oren faltered backward to clear himself of the limb but got caught in the foot as the lieutenant balanced himself on the other and poised his slender sword for his chest. By the slight shifts in the humanoid’s arms, Oren pried his arms from underneath the toes and caught the blade before it touched his heart.

He couldn’t help but glance up to the humanoid, eyes widened for a moment before they narrowed again as he increased the pressure.

Oren resisted, forcing his heaving breaths to steady as he maintained his focus resisting the vanguard.

“Found him, Sir! Lieutenant Cinead has him caught.”

“Shoot him!” Cinead shouted, keeping his hold on Oren, as the human held his breath.

A whistle shot across the air, and Oren recoiled to the sting on the left side of his back. He betrayed no emotion but allowed his grip to slacken a little as the humanoid’s eyes widened.

With the slightest increase of pressure from the lieutenant, Oren used it to pull the blade above his left shoulder and throw his head forward to collide it to the Vanguard’s nose.

Recoiling from the blow, the lieutenant’s grip released Oren and tumbled to the ground, grasping for his head.

Despite a numbness spreading across his shoulder, Oren kicked the vanguard in the face, knocking the man down.

“Shoot him again!” a new voice ordered, forcing Oren to action, jumping and twisting his body over the lieutenant’s body as another arrow sailed beyond him.

Oren touched the earth, and crouched at Cinead’s head, seeing another arrow drawn at the ready. He dug his arms underneath the humanoid’s body and lifted him up as the call to fire pierced the air. Oren used the lieutenant as a shield from the incoming projectile, struck by the friendly missile.

The two vanguard, on the other side, cried their disbelief as Oren threw the soldier to the ground without remorse and ran into the field.