Waging War | The Amber Duology #1

7 | The Value of Cloaks

In the middle of the night was often the best hour for sneaking around. No unwanted witnesses, no evidence or proof, just a simple shadow walking through the night. The camps were quiet during these hours, except for the constant snoring of the male soldiers, but it was peaceful nonetheless.

The desert had come to a cooler state, the heat disappeared once the sun had set, showing everyone just how cold the outskirts of Ninjago City could be. Cold winds blew through the open cracks of the tents, letting just enough air inside to make the inhabitants shiver at the temperature and clutch their blankets closer.

But not everyone was asleep.

A figure quietly strode past the tents, their footsteps were light as a feather. They wore a dark cloak over their head, hiding any traces of the silver hair, just enough to blend into the twilight and move around unseen. They pushed past the entrance of the huge tent set up at the east side of the camps.

For a place filled with warriors, it is highly unguarded.

It was the place the soldier's called "The Lab." Inside were different machines, supplies, and tools needed for building all the weapons and vehicles needed by the army. It was a paradise for all kinds of inventors and engineers, or mad scientists who claim to take over the world.

"You're late." A cold, stern voice entered their ears, catching their attention.

The figure didn't bother to find the source and instead, checked the watch on their wrist. "No, I'm not." 12:30.

Once the figure looked up, they realized the person they were talking to wasn't in front of them, but behind them. They turned around to find a boy with the same cloud grey hair covering the top of his head. He was wearing his light blue robes, which signified as his uniform, but his pajamas were visible underneath. A pair of white, vertical stripes.

"Pixal Borg?" He asked, raising a brow. It was then the figure got confirmation that the cloak had been useful after all.

The figure lowered their hood, revealing the bright green eyes staring back at him. She didn't miss the way he shifted his weight between his feet. Her hair flowed past her shoulders like a silvery waterfall and down her waist as she was dressed in her pajamas–which weren't so plain in her opinion–as well.

"Zane Julien?" She returned and crossed her arms.

He nodded. "Affirmative."

He's too serious. Or maybe he's trying to look like he is.

But Pixal knew better than to crack a joke and try to get him to loosen up, he was a soldier after all and that was probably taken out of him during training. There was a moment of silence between them and Pixal took it as an opportunity to take a better look around. She often thought that there was no greater lab than her father's back at Borg Tower.

She was definitely wrong.

Pixal let her feet lead her to the different areas of the lab, leaving no corner unchecked and no stone unturned. She admired the vast selection of tools that were laid out on the table, sets that she remembered were off limits back at Borg Tower but here, she was allowed to use them. There were all sorts of advanced machines tucked nicely into the corners of the tent and Pixal couldn't wait to try out every single one of them.

Zane followed behind her, his hand behind his back, watching her as she continued exploring every nook and cranny of the tent. "Your father has told me you have an exceptional talent for building vehicles."

Pixal looked over her shoulder and flashed him a smile. "That is correct." Although exceptional might be pushing it.

"Show me then."