Crimson Hearts

Crimson Hearts
(a KoaruMazaki creation for Drakhand006’s SC Romance Contest)
Prologue

The wind blew hard that evening, causing the leaves and dust from the road to swirl and dance in the air around the travelers. The one stood tall and proud, wearing battles scars as a signal to his enemies that he was not one to be underestimated. His armor bore many scars from battle, and his eyes burned with an intense desire to be free. The large sword on his back was stained and dented, bearing the marks of prolonged use with little maintenance. His traveling companion walked a few paces behind, her steps quick and playful, yet seductive and dangerous. Her clothes were well tight fitting, many tears covering the green garment, yet the stitching gave it the appearance that it was supposed to look that way. The large ring that hung across her left shoulder and rested against her right hip gleamed in the setting sun, its razor edge promising death to those who ventured to near it.
From the shadowy branches of an ancient oak tree, five pairs of eyes stared out at the approaching pair. The faint sound of metal ringed from the shadows, and it was all Tira needed to find their enemies.

The blue haired mercenary stood silent as the silver armored general paced in front of him, avoiding eye contact.
“You understand what I am asking of you?” the general asked, and the mercenary smiled.
“Kill the two, find the blade, and pick up payment. Got it.”
The general frowned at the cockiness the mercenary was displaying. He knew that this man had been part of the Grandall rebellion, serving under the liberator of the war, but he felt that this man was too relaxed for the job.
“I am still unsure about this. I think that you should know your enemy better first.”
The mercenary pulled his katana out and began examining its edge. “I already am.” He said, and the general froze.
“What?” he asked, sweat forming on his bald head and running down into his think grey mustache. The mercenary looked at the older man and hardened his expression.
“Five of my associates are currently judging your targets strength. I am sure that at least one will return to tell me what I am dealing with.”
The old general sat down and rested his head in his hands. He knew now that he was dealing with a pro.

The ring had left Tira’s hand before the hiding soldiers could react. The razor bladed ring sliced through the branches, cutting down leaves and twigs, along with two of the soldiers. A third screamed as the ring took his arm off as it returned to its owner.
“Screw this! I’m outta here!” one of the soldiers shouted, and leapt out of the tree, landing at the base of the trunk and running deeper into the forest.
“Damn coward.” One of the remaining soldiers growled as he drew his sword and leapt down at Tira. “Die, witch!” he shouted, and Tira looked up at him as with a smile.
“No, silly, you first.” She giggled, and the soldier gasped as he was run through by the man’s sword. Coughing, the soldier stared in amazement at how a human could hold a sword of such size with only one hand.
“How…” he gasped as his life faded. Draco swung his sword and threw the corpse into the base of the tree, the force of the impact blowing the corpse apart. The armless soldier leapt down and swung his sickle at Draco, the chain blade arcing towards his throat. Draco merely swatted the blade away with his left hand, appearing bored with the whole battle. The soldier froze when he felt  a pair of hands across his chest.
“Hey.” Tira whispered in his ear, reaching for her ring blade. “Now,” she brought her knee into the man’s tailbone, the force sending into the air. “You,” she held the ring in both hands, the blade gleaming in the fading light. “Die!” Tira swung the blade in quick, deadly arcs, severing the soldier’s head, left leg, and right foot. Tira stood up and spun the ring, cause the fresh blood to fly off the edge. Setting the ring across her shoulder again, she turned to Draco. “One got away.” She said, a strong note of sadness in her voice. Draco set the tip of his sword against the ground and looked up from the scarf around his neck.
“Not yet he hasn’t.” Draco whispered.

The blue haired mercenary walked out of the barracks where he had met with the general and stretched in the rays of the setting sun. Looking out across the golden orange sky, he smiled as he remembered watching Draco in battle during the charge against Strife’s castle. The raw strength of a dragon was the only way he could describe the battle prowess of the war lord. He remembered how Draco had saved him from Strife during that last battle. How he should have killed had he not been wounded before the fight.
“Damn you, Draco.” He said, cursing the name of his former ally. “That should have been my kill, my victory, my honor!” he shouted as he struck a pillar beside him. The stone structure shattered from the force of his fist, showering the ground with debris. Looking once again at the last rays of the sun as it vanished behind the horizon, he glared at the image of Draco in his mind. “I will have my revenge.”

The soldier ran through the woods as the darkness swallowed him. Tripping over an exposed root, he flew and landed sprawled eagle on the forest floor. Rolling over into a sitting position, he looked up as the large blade of Draco Faust Williams plunged into his gut. The dying screams of the soldier caused the birds resting in the tops of the trees to take flight, leaving the sight of the kill.

Tira looked up from her sitting position as Draco emerged from the woods.
“Did you get him?” she asked, her voice high and excited, her eyes wide and slightly maniacal. Draco nodded as he placed his sword on his back and turned to continue the journey set before them. Tira hopped up to her feet and skipped up beside him, her green hair waving from the motion. Draco looked down at her as she slipped her arms around his left arm, gazing up at him intently. Draco couldn’t help but crack a smile at the female assassin’s innocent appearance, though he knew much better than to ever think of her as innocent. Pulling his arm from her grasp, he set his hand on her shoulder and pulled her closer as they walked into the darkness, the light from the moon guiding their path.