'A Stormy Past'

[Nine Years Earlier, Somewhere in the Forestlands of the North-East]

It's been a while since nightfall, and in the darkest hour of the Night, the moon was hiding in the storm clouds brewing up in the sky for a while.

The Wind was blowing bad and shrill, with it's humid showering dampening every single leaf of the vast forests of the Meghalaya, covering the old cities and ruins in the once forbidden hills.

Within the sweet smell and downpour of grizzly rain moistening the soil; sounds can be heard of some horses galloping across the serpentine paths; only to be dampened by the crackling thunder deafening the atmosphere; All while the Horses kept smashing the muddy ground beneath their ironclad hooves in the process.

Nine Horses; each having a rider cloaked in the best of raincoats and overcoats; all covered in black with a bulk of supplies on their back- were racing up the mountainous path in the cruelest weather from what it seemed.

"We have seen worst. Don't we?"

The Man in the front of the column chatters to the person next to him.

"Sure we have. But I bet this would fairly worse for the rookies.", The person next to Man answered confidently. He was Adil Mansoor, the Deputy of the Lightening Scouts squad of Indian Borders- experienced of everythin' in the field he was in. In his Thirty-nine years of taking part in expeditions and hunting the Fallen Farworlder bases in the wild; he had seen many Leaderlings come and go.

"You seem to have a care for the rookies, Mansoor!", The person at the front chuckled with a joke.

He was the Leader of the expedition, Captain Maywalker; youngest of his family of Elites in the South, and the only heir of the Guild of Maywalkers. He was a handsome youth of Nineteen, black-eyed and robust as one should be in his youth. Mounted on his huge XE-class mountain horse, the person towered above every person riding in the column. He wore black boots, black and waterproof pants; heartskin leather gloves with a golden rim, and a fine overcoat of gleaming cynical embroidered armour; over the layers of finest cloth.

Captain Raoul Maywalker had been leading the squad for no less the last year, but no one can say he was not prepared for his vocation, at least insofar as his wardrobe was concerned.

The stars on his shoulders were his crowning glory, shining over the black cloak attached to it. He was a special graduate of the Vizagian scouts regiment, promoted with his merits and leadership in the field. In short, You can't judge his ability from his mere age.

And, this- Mansoor knew well. Raoul was arrogant with his words, but serious with his deeds.

"You are right, this is their first time in the rough anyway.", Mansoor answered; with a soft voice.

"Well there is a first time for everythin' and everyone I guess.", The young elite joked his way off again.

Mansoor chuckled unwantedly, showing his respect to the factual truth of the joke his young Captain made, for it was truth enough for him to deny it off the radar.

But, It was as same to deny for him the fact that his whole squad was a rookie one, and it was they were the only one who were able to purge this deep into the Forestlands after riding through the wastelands and mountains of the Northern Valleys, which were terribly flooded and destructive because of the untimely monsoons striking the Bay of Grief just a week ago, taking their communications out of order as they moved forward.

For their target, it was originally to wipe out the criminal smuggler guilds to the north of the Dhaka city, and take the Assamese valley back to Military hands. But, In this mayhem of storms and flood pounding the land in off-seasons, crashed the expedition they were a part of.

The whole expeditionary force comprised of a thousand Scouts, and even if Mansoor knew his squad was at the rearmost- He and his squad had still not encountered any other of the squads they had started their ways on. And, Mansoor's guts were not well on the fact that even after riding days and nights without stopping for three days, they still had no signs of their companion squadlings in their front.

"You are in a stupefaction Mansoor. Aren't you?", The Young Captain spoke up. He was not unaware of Mansoor's muddled up situation. Speak of the truth, He was more anxious about the fact than Mansoor.

"I am, Captain. Our Horses can't take anymore than an hour now- and we just have a third of our supplies left with us, and we are here- Seven Hundred miles away from our homelands.", Mansoor said; showing his worry.

"Well, Well. We don't have much options Old guy! Our retreat is blocked by the running Brahmaputra, the only way to go back is to pass through this Meghalayan stormland.", A female voice came in response of Mansoor's complaint, dimming his complaining voice off the rails.

Mansoor turned his head to his left to check if it was the person whom he perceived the voice to be.

A girl of Nineteen, gleaming in a light armour carved with a red cloak on her back as same as him, was riding close to him and the Captain, seeming to have heard the conversation the two were having all this while.

She was Anisha Wei, Junior deputy of the squad, and the Captain's beloved fiancee. She was too, from a well-known family of elites- Half-chinese; based in the city of Dhaka. She was a beauty of rare-ness; her sharp asian features with Indian blend made her a person to have a rare ethnicity. And Alongwith her sharp and straightforward use of speech and sword, She was a dauntlessly sharp knife in the squad after Mansoor himself.

"Deputy Wei, You were supposed to be at the end of the column..."

"Ah... they are no kids that we would have to watch. They are gonna follow us anyways in this merciless weather.", Anisha stormed her words into Mansoor's another complaint; and continied- "Anyways, I wanted to ask the Captain to stop at Cavestown, a mile far from here."