The Azure Dragon

by Vladimir Vasilenko

  Three of his buddies stood a little further but watched us closely. The funny thing was that they all "forgot" to remove the plastic shields after training.

  "Who are you, red sucker? What the hell are you doing here?"

  Gently putting his fork down, Bers suddenly straightened up and turned around, meeting the offender face to face. Having backed away involuntarily, the other guy started to push forward right away. He had a powerful physique and was eight inches taller than Bers, who looked comical in comparison: he had to throw back his head to look the opponent in the eye.

  "Costa!"

  Terekhov's shout had the affect a master’s command does on a well-trained dog. He froze, peering at the big guy.

  "You know who we are, without turning around," said the security guy. "I have long been familiar with Genghis, and I don't believe that he brought reinforcements without first instructing the personnel. That means this entire show is put on based on his orders.”

  "There was no order!" The bully snorted. "We just don't like your faces!"

  "Give me a break," quietly continued Terekhov. "You don't step out to the bathroom without Genghis's permission. Just as everyone else here. Are you looking for a fight with girls and civilians? What kind of a hero are you afterward?"

  "That's right, there are no fighters among you. I don't know if it's even worth talking to you."

  "See you in Artar, dummy," hissed Kata. "Let's see who is who there!"

  "Bet quiet, fat ass! Take a cue from your girlfriend."

  "She's not my girlfriend!"

  "I don't give a shit! I don't know what you think about yourself and how cool you are in the game. But this is the real world. If you want to live comfortably here, you all have to learn to deal with us."

  He looked at the girls with a filthy grin on his face.

  "Well, it'll be easier for the girls. We've missed having the weaker sex around. You will entertain us in your free time."

  Kata clenched her fists and lunged from her seat, but I stopped her. The situation was already heated—one spark and there'd be an explosion. Terekhov was right when he said that the forces were very much unequal. Not that I was scared.

  Though who am I kidding? I was kind of scared. I'd never been in a serious fight. I didn't really want to start my debut now.

  "So, are you going to get out of here while we're asking you nicely or do you want us to help you?" The big guy continued, pushing Bers in the chest.

  I couldn't see the strike—the redhead jerked like a tight spring. He hit the enemy from below the chin, so that the big guy raised his face to the ceiling and collapsed on his back. No one had time to react when Daniel roared and, pushing off the wall, rushed at the skinhead's buddies. In real life he wasn't as powerful as in Artar, plus, he had no armor. But, he had two hundred pounds on him, so he rammed our offenders pretty hard, pushing them against the wall. Knocking down one of them, he fell on top of him, pinning him to the floor.

  With a wild cry, Bers rushed into the formed pile of bodies. Terekhov, too, was already on his feet. With some crazy judo move, he threw another soldier over his hip and, with a blow to the stomach, nailed him to the floor. New opponents rushed at us from all sides.

  "Stand down!"

  There seemed to be some magic contained in this sharp, roaring cry, making everyone freeze all at once.

  Genghis stood at the entrance to the dining room. His expression was hard to read. It was like a cold mask of indifference, which seemed to be his natural facial expression. It'd make no difference if he were to stab a blade in the ribs of a man or kissing his kids good night. Although, I doubted that he had any children.

  Bers helped Dan get up and, as if nothing had happened, sat back at the table to continue the interrupted meal. Terekhov, Daniel and Sting, who appeared out of nowhere, joined him.

  "No fighting!" Breaking the prevailing silence barked the head of the Hounds and left, throwing one last glance around the dining room.

  Groaning and moaning in pain, our offenders got out of there very quickly. Everyone else also took their seats. Even the line to the microwave dispersed, which I took advantage of. I warmed up the main dishes for myself and the girls, and brought coffee for everyone.

  While I was gone, the rest of the group didn't say a word. Instead, they were just eating their simple lunch and glancing askance at the other inhabitants of the camp. I caught Terekhov’s heavy look as I was sitting down, but noticed that everyone else treated me as usual.

  Didn't he tell them about the eye? Probably not. Otherwise, they would have showed it in one way or another. But why didn't he tell them? Didn't have time? Did he do it to avoid the conflict within the group? Hardly. The truth will come out anyway, sooner or later. No doubt, it would be better if the guys learned everything from him, not from Genghis or someone else. Should I confess?

  "Well, at least this jerk didn't throw us under the bus," said Edge quietly, almost in a whisper.

  Apparently, this clash freaked her out because her usual playfulness and self-confidence were gone.

  Bers only indulgently snorted.

  "You don't get it, do you?" Asked Terekhov in the same low voice, barely moving his lips. "Now he's definitely turned the whole camp against us.”

  "Nobody likes the boss's favorites," nodded Bers.

  "Who? Are we the favorites?"

  "He wants to separate us from the main unit. Look, he placed us in a separate building on purpose, and in addition to that, we all got single rooms. Everyone else others live in the barracks," Terekhov explained. “That shows that we get special treatment."

  "Is it true that you know him personally?" Kata asked.

  "I've crossed paths with him before. A long time ago, back when I served."

  "Was he your commander, or what?"

  "Did I say we were on the same side?" He asked, still whispering and obviously irritated.

  We fell quiet.

  "Genghis is an expert," continued Terekhov, when we were almost done with dinner. "He's pretty famous in certain circles. For the last fifteen years, he was engaged in the training of militants in Central Asia, South America, and Africa. He's very dangerous. For that reason, I suggest you don't contradict him and keep a low profile."

  "What's going on, Leo?" Bers whispered. "Obviously something shitty. I'm not stupid. But could you at least outline the overall scale of the problem?"

  "It concerns Genghis and me. I'll try to deflect the blow from you. But be prepared for the fact that in a couple of weeks, our squad may simply seize to exist."

  "What about you?"

  "I might completely lose the chief's trust and his protection. But that's my problem."

  "What do you mean—your problem?" Bers hissed indignantly. "We'll stand up for you!"

  "Knock it off, Costa! If I go down, I don't want to drag anyone with me."

  His eyes reflected stubborn determination. It was similar to a man who was about to put the gun to his temple. I think it was much more serious than we could ever imagine. For him, failure would mean more than just losing his job.

  "What's the story with the rat?" Asked Daniel. "Do you really think there's a traitor among us?"

  "I don't know. Maybe it's just another ploy on the part of Genghis to cause a squabble among us. Maybe not..."

  He looked around and stopped his gaze at me for a while.

  "It's not me," I protested.

  "I didn't say anything," Terekhov said gloomily.

  The others turned to me, and trying to avoid their eyes, I pretended that the last spoonful of the stewed meat were especially tasty.

  "I know I am guilty before you, Leo..." I said quietly. "And before the rest too. I…"

  "Shut up!" He interrupted me.

  "I'm just..."

  "Shut up, I said! Don't test my patience!"

  I fell silent, and the others looked at each other in bewilderment.

  "What's up with you, guys?" Gently asked Daniel.

  Terekhov silentl
y finished the remnants of his box, staring at the table. He had a look that kept others away with their questions.

  "What can we do, Leo? How can we help?" Bers asked when everyone had finished lunch and was getting ready to get up from the table.

  By this time, there was almost no one left in the dining room, and though we could speak louder, we were still whispering.

  "Nothing!" Terekhov snapped. "I told you: stay under the radar, do not argue with anyone and do not get fooled by provocations. Especially in real life. We are hostages to Genghis here, and he can do anything to us."

  "Well, what about Artar? He's got some big assignment there, right? Can't we just make sure he can't handle it?"

  "We can't sabotage the mission. It'll make Clam furious. We're officially Genghis's reinforcement squad. And we must obey his orders."

  "What's that assignment anyway?"

  "I don't know!" roared Terekhov.

  "Crap!" Bers broke a plastic fork out of anger. "How do we get out of this?"

  "I. Don't. Know!" Terekhov repeated. "We gotta calm down and stay out of trouble."

  "But how did that happen?" Asked Daniel. "Where did this Genghis come from?"

  "He was here right from the start. In addition to our squad, there are a few more. Over time, they will all have to merge into one Guild, which will be headed by the commander of one of the units. The one who shows himself best. And, it seems, that the chief is holding the most promise for Genghis right now."

  "If so, we're done," Bers shook his head. "We're bound hand and foot. What could we possibly do?"

  "Prove to Clam that he bet on the wrong person," I said.

  "Yes, perhaps," nodded Daniel.

  We got out of the empty dining room and after standing on the porch for a while, moved along the path to the residential building. Terekhov kept me back, silently putting his hand on my shoulder.

  "Go, we'll catch up with you!" He said to Bers.

  At the fork in the path, he pulled me aside, and the others quickly disappeared from sight behind thick bushes.

  "Leo, I…"

  "I what?" Suddenly, the security guard exploded, attacking me. "Do you have any idea how you set me up, asshole?"

  "I didn't mean to! I'll fix it! I didn't think…"

  "What were you thinking? Come on, tell me, what else have you been hiding from us? Have you leaked intel for money?"

  "I'm not a rat, Leo! You can trust me!"

  Something exploded in my stomach. It was Terekhov punching me with a short but accurate blow. I bent down, frantically gasping for air, but I couldn't breathe—my lungs felt as if they were clutched in a death grip. Everything went dark.

  "I really hope you're not lying. Otherwise, say your prayers, sucker!"

  He punched me again in the side. I don't think it was hard, but I felt like my ribs cracked. My knees buckled, and I almost fell, but Terekhov caught me by the scruff. He leaned over to me with a face distorted with rage, hissing in my ear.

  His words were unexpected to me and didn’t reflect his outburst of rage. I didn't understand their meaning right away because of the pain I was going through.

  He pushed me away, so I fell on the grass and curled up in the fetal position. I still had a hard time breathing, letting out a hoarse sound like a fish out of water.

  What the hell? For what?!

  In two minutes, I got back to my senses. I stood up with difficulty and finally digested the last words that Terekhov whispered in my ear: "I believe you. But Genghis can't know. Neither can the guys."

  Was it all for show?

  Holding my bruised side, I looked around—no one saw us, but the nearest lamppost had an attached camera that impassively stared right at me.

  Chapter 3. The White Shore

  My boots sank in the dry sand that rustled and left oblong craters with crumbling edges instead of footprints. We walked in silence along the shore, a dozen steps from the coastline. My companions looked around intently as if fearing an ambush. I was just staring at them.

  Genghis went ahead of everyone. When he walked, the numerous iron plates that fortified his leather armor, softly rattled like a heavy coin necklace of a Gypsy dancer. I thought the armor looked unusual. It looked Asian—something of Japanese or Mongolian style. Small metal plates, connected to each other with leather straps, were layered like roof tiles. In the end, his whole torso was like a large scale. The shoulder pads consisted of several hard leather plates connected in a similar way. The legs were protected by a long, knee-length armored skirt.

  On his back, he had fixed a round iron shield and a spear with a heavy shaft and long double-edged tip. At his left hip swayed a heavy sword with a widening blade. On the other side of the belt, he had strapped a dagger, curvy like a claw, in a simple leather sheath. His fur-tripped helmet with lush tuft of black horsehair was perhaps the only thing that distinguished him from the ordinary soldiers of the squad, who wore plain armor, with no jewelry.

  There were six other warriors with us. They wore exactly the same armor, shields, spears, and swords. The only difference was their height and facial features. The black-eyed smiling guy nicknamed Viper stood out amongst the others not in his appearance, but personality. At least he was full of beans. He was cheerful and didn't pose as a dispassionate terminator.

  The two other guys were tanks. There wore thick steel cuirasses, deaf helmets with visors, and rectangular full-height shields. I will never know how they don’t die from heat under this layer of iron. The sun was scorching.

  I was followed by three archers and three mages.

  Archers were also the victims of standardization—apparently, Genghis's detachment practiced bulk purchasing of equipment. Their armor was lighter than that of close combat warriors; their bows had short tight shoulders, and their quivers were full of arrows with black plumage. They also had close combat short swords that looked somewhat like those gladiators used to have.

  On the other hand, every mage was unique. Karim stood out among everyone. As I understand it, he was the main healer in the squad, and Genghis’s right hand. He looked terrifying. He wore a blood-red wooden mask in the form of a demonic grinning face, framed by a mane of black hair. Ornate heavy shoulder pads, decorated with fangs and claws of a large animal, gave him a massive silhouette. His body itself was hidden by all sorts of small trophies hanging on long leather straps. Feathers, bird skulls, jars of some potions, coins with a hole in the middle, just colored scraps of fabric—swaying to the beat of the steps, his shaggy cloak looked more like sniper camouflage. It was sewn from several wolf skins of a different color, and also decorated with feathers and skulls.

  When walking, Karim leaned on a massive staff, like an uprooted dry tree, gray as an old bone. The shaft was knotty, and at the top, it split like an uneven slingshot. Between these “horns”, wound colored yarn that was threaded in large transparent crystal with a hole. This crystal seemed to flash brighter each time the staff hit the ground. Or was it just the glare of the sun?

  To the left of Karim was Cali. In Indian mythology, it is the name of the goddess of destruction. I didn’t know whether this girl's abilities match this description, but she definitely tried her best to match the goddess's looks. She was dressed in black clothes, with a light silk train. Around the eyes, she painted a black stripe that went down her cheeks. Black lipstick, black long fingernails, large silver earrings in the form of crescents. Bright red hair with a large white strand at the right temple. But it was not her flashy hair or makeup that was striking, rather the dangerously low cut of her dress that revealed a lot of cleavage and part of her stomach too. The bodice must have been enchanted in such a way that it kept the mage's impressive charms from falling out when moving. At least I had no other explanation for why this wasn't happening. Unless she had it all glued together.

  Surprisingly, the remaining members of the squad didn't stare at Cali or made fun of her. They seemed to take her quite seriously. Judging by the look on her face, she had a horri
ble personality—a typical evil bitch. She was either Genghis's protégé or so strong on her own that she could stand up for herself.

  Laurel closed the procession. He was also a healer, but not an ordinary one. I've never seen mages wearing armor—especially such heavy one. His epaulets were particularly impressive: so massive that they bent from above and almost closed over his head, like an arch. To stabilize this design, the lower edges of the epaulets were connected and attached directly to the cuirass in the front, at chest level, and on the back between the shoulder blades. The cuirass was a thick solid shell, polished to reflect the sun.

  My knowledge of Qi told me that Laurel had a lot of Strength, though less than warriors. Well, carrying such heavy weight all the time will inevitably develop strength. But his was more than one could get from just wearing armor. That's why I thought that he was not a mage but a paladin. Unlike Terekhov, he focused on buffs and healing. That made sense. For example, paladins have a buff that increases the armor of the group in proportion to his own armor, so heavy armor could come in handy.

  Yet, Laurel and Karim stayed behind everyone, like the shepherds of the flock. They healed and strengthened fighters when it was necessary. It seemed that this half-assed paladin could also add some value in close combat. It was unlikely that he had that impressive mace purely as an accessory.

  All together, these dozen fighters were a serious force. I could tell from the Qi charts that Genghis took only the best with him. This mission must have been very important.

  A few hundred steps ahead of us, a skeleton of a crashed ship loomed over on the shore. Its masts were broken off, and half the body was sunk in the sand. There was a huge gaping hole in the side as if someone took a bite off of the ship, which could actually be true—it is Artar, after all, which is full of sea monsters. We just recently passed the Leviathan Bay. Rumor had it that there was a giant monster the size of a multi-story building, similar to Kraken.

  We were on the White Shore—the heart of the Corsairs domain. I could even see the fortress under construction at a distance from. But that's not where we were heading. We were walking along the coastline towards the broken ship. Not far from it was a stone pillar with familiar runes—Menhir of the Return.