The wind howled over the deck of the airship Stormhawk, cutting through the cold, high-altitude air. Kalyndra tightened the grip on her rifle, the custom-made rifle designed and made by her own hands, its metallic sheen blending seamlessly with her storm-gray cloak. The mark of the Stormguard Marines was stitched proudly over her heart, symbolizing her combined 15 years of service protecting the skies. Her Half-Elven ears twitched, straining to catch the faint sounds of danger hidden within the roaring storm surrounding them.
She was perched on the forward lookout, her sharp eyes scanning the thick clouds for movement. For most, this would have been a suicide mission—navigating the skies near the floating isles of Zephrah, known for their unpredictable air currents and hostile airborne creatures. But to Kalyndra, this was home. She thrived where others faltered, her sniper rifle an extension of her being.
Today marked her last mission as a Stormguard Marine. She'd been called back eight years ago to train a new generation of snipers, to pass on her knowledge to those who would protect the skies long after she was gone. It was an honorable role, one she had performed with quiet pride. But this mission wasn't about training recruits. This was personal.
"Kalyndra, report," The voice of Commander Torgan said through her magical earpiece. His gruff tone held a respect that hadn't been there when she first joined the Stormguard.
"All clear for now, Commander," Kalyndra responded, her voice steady as she continued to sweep the horizon. "But the clouds are too thick. Something's not right."
A moment of silence passed before Torgan's response crackled through. "We've picked up movement. Hostiles are incoming from the east. Hold your position and take the shot when you see them."
Kalyndra's pulse quickened, but her breathing remained even. She had trained herself to stay calm under pressure, even when everything around her was chaos. In the distance, through the swirling clouds, she caught a glimpse of movement—black-winged shadows slicing through the storm. She narrowed her eyes, her heartbeat slowing to match the rhythm of her breathing. Drakes. At least six of them, their riders barely visible through the storm.
"Drake riders," she whispered into her earpiece, adjusting the scope of her rifle. Her fingers tightened around the trigger. "I have visual."
"Take them out, Marine. The sky's yours," Torgan's ordered.
The first shot rang out, silent in the storm but deadly in its precision. The lead drake buckled, its rider tumbling into the abyss below. Kalyndra didn't flinch, already lining up her next target. One by one, the drakes fell from the sky, their riders helpless against the cold efficiency of the sniper's aim.
But as the last rider fell, something larger appeared in the clouds—a massive winged beast, far larger than any drake. Kalyndra's heart skipped a beat as the creature's head emerged from the storm. A wyvern. Its rider wore the armor of a Sky Raider Captain, known for their brutal raids on airships.
"Kalyndra, pull back! That's not part of the mission!" Torgan's voice broke through the comms, but she didn't listen.
This was the moment she'd been waiting for. Years ago, her squad had been ambushed by Sky Raiders, and she had lost friends—good soldiers—because of it. Now, she had the chance to end their leader.
She steadied her rifle, her mind clearing of all distractions. She lined up her shot, aiming for the gap between the wyvern's armored scales just above its heart. The wind howled around her, and for a brief moment, it felt like the storm held its breath. Kalyndra pulled the trigger.
The shot flew true, piercing the wyvern's chest. It roared in agony, thrashing as its rider struggled to maintain control. But it was too late. The beast plummeted, spiraling toward the earth far below, taking its rider with it.
"Kalyndra, report!" Torgan's voice cut through the silence that followed. She could hear the tension and concern in his tone.
"It's done," she replied softly, lowering her rifle. "The skies are clear."
The storm began to break as the Stormhawk soared above the clouds, the sun breaking through the dark gray as if heralding the end of her final mission. Kalyndra stood there for a moment, the weight of her rifle heavy in her hands before she slung it over her shoulder and took a deep breath. Her work was done.
Her fingers brushed the Stormguard insignia on her chest, and she smiled, knowing that this chapter of her life was coming to a close. But the skies would always be hers, no matter where the winds took her next.
"Returning to base, Commander," she said into the comms, turning her back on the horizon as the Stormhawk carried her home.
The grand hall of Stormguard's headquarters buzzed with quiet anticipation. Rows of soldiers, both seasoned veterans and fresh recruits, lined the perimeter, their crisp uniforms bearing the insignia of the Stormguard Marines— A trident crossed with a cutlass against a backdrop of waves, symbolizing their mastery of sea and land. At the front of the room, a large banner hung from the rafters, proudly displaying the same emblem. Today, they had gathered to honor one of their finest: Kalyndra Dimguard, the Half-Elven sniper whose legend had only grown with each mission she undertook.
Kalyndra stood off to the side, feeling a mixture of pride and trepidation. Her fingers brushed the well-worn leather of her sniper rifle, now mounted ceremoniously on her back. She wore the formal Stormguard attire—storm-gray cloak, high-collared tunic, and polished boots—but she felt oddly out of place. This wasn't a battlefield, yet the weight of the moment made her heart pound as if it were.
The airship Stormhawk had touched down just that morning, bringing her back to base after her final mission. The adrenaline from the battle still pulsed faintly in her veins, but now, standing here, it felt surreal. Fifteen years of service. Fifteen years of protecting the skies, of watching her comrades fall, of delivering justice with a sniper's deadly precision. It was all about to end.
Commander Torgan stood at the center of the hall, his sharp eyes scanning the room before they settled on Kalyndra. His usual stern expression softened into something resembling pride as he nodded toward her.
"Stormguard Marines!" he barked, his voice carrying over the crowd, "Today, we gather to honor one of our own. A warrior, a teacher, and a legend in her own right—Lieutenant Kalyndra Dimguard of the Stormguard Marines!"
The hall erupted in applause. Kalyndra's heart raced, but she remained still, her face stoic as she had been taught. But the emotion she felt was undeniable. This was the end of her journey as a Stormguard Marine.
Torgan continued, "For fifteen years, Kalyndra has served with distinction. Her precision in battle has saved countless lives. Her leadership in training new recruits has ensured that the legacy of the Stormguard will continue for generations. But more than that, she has inspired us all. Her commitment to duty, her honor in the face of danger, and her loyalty to her comrades—these are the marks of a true Marine."
Kalyndra's mind flickered with memories—the first time she held her rifle, the heat of her first mission, and the faces of the comrades she had lost. She had dedicated her life to this; now, it was time to let go.
"Lieutenant Dimguard," Torgan called out, his voice softer now, filled with respect. "Step forward."
She took a deep breath and stepped into the center of the room, her boots echoing on the polished floor. As she moved, the crowd parted, giving her space. She could feel the eyes of every soldier on her, but she kept her gaze locked on Torgan.
The commander held a small velvet box in his hands. He opened it, revealing a silver medal—the Stormguard Cross, the highest honor given to those who had gone above and beyond in service. The medal gleamed in the light, its design reflecting the same emblem that Kalyndra had worn proudly on her chest for so many years.
"With this medal, we recognize your bravery, your skill, and your sacrifice. You have given us everything, Lieutenant. And though Today marks your retirement, know that you will always be a Stormguard Marine."
Torgan stepped forward, pinning the medal to Kalyndra's uniform just above her heart. The weight of the silver cross felt both heavy and light at the same time, a symbol of everything she had been and everything she was leaving behind.
The room was silent as Torgan stepped back and saluted her. "You have earned your rest, Kalyndra. The skies are safer because of you."
Kalyndra raised her hand to return the salute, her throat tight with emotion. This was it—the end of her journey with the Stormguard. "It has been an honor, Sir," She replied softly.