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User ImageThe still nameless man stroked his scruffy chin for a moment. He wanted to do something, really he did, but he could only ever see things from a negative perspective. Why fight against the inevitable? Why be cheery when there was so little to be happy about? These thoughts plagued him from his waking moments. And yet, the will to survive is what made him continue on every day. Why not apply it to this as well? What good would years of running and cowering be were it not to ensure his life? "We'd need a plan. It'll have to be a damn good one if we hope to do something more than throw pebbles at the other dragon." He looked from Satsuki to Algidus. "You said the Dragon Knights managed to seal Ferven, right? Who were they, and how did they do it?"



User ImageThe dragon shifted his sitting position a bit. "The Dragon Knights were a once mighty order. The bravest and strongest of warriors were chosen by Bahamut, Lord of the Dragons, to receive his blessing. With his gift, the knights were shielded from a great deal of magic, and permitted to draw upon a dragon familiar's power. It was after making this selection that Bahamut departed from this world, searching for planes unknown where he would be needed.

Of the Common Dragons, Ferven's might was unmatched. With Bahamut gone, she desired to rule over our species. She believed that power should dictate us, not the laws that had been established. Regardless of her struggles, Leviathan was chosen to be our next leader. Ferven's rage became uncontainable. She managed to slay Leviathan and consumed his spirit, which in turn linked her to the leader of the Dragon Knights. She poisoned the grand leader's thoughts and brought about chaos within the order. When we came to realize what had happened, it was far too late. The knights had been slain, and with their pacts, their dragons grew weak. Ferven herself would kill a great number of our species. None were left with the strength to oppose her. It was I that found a way to cease her rampage, however. I too made a pact with the remaining knight, her knight, to cleanse his thoughts and make his mind his own once again. Together we performed a ritual to suspend her. This ritual claimed the knight's life, and a great deal of both mine and Ferven's power. Leviathan's spirit, in his attempt to ensure the safety of this world, burned out as he transported Ferven to this world's core."


Algidus stopped for a moment. His head hung slightly low. "But now, with no one of the Dragon Knight's bloodline left, and Ferven having taken the role of our leader, I am unsure what else can be done. Were Leviathan still with us, even in a small form, perhaps a new order of Dragon Knights could be created to fight against Ferven."
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Dandy as it was, a room in itself could only provide awe for so long. There was an entire academy to still see, after all, and he had caught nothing more than a glimpse. He exited from his joyous abode to stretch his legs, take in the sights, and perhaps get to know 'neighbors.' A much more preferable alternative to this dingy loneliness he was immersed in. Shoes on, key in pocket, and off he went!

The boy walked with a casual stride, being in no hurry to get where he was going. Where was he going? Not a clue! Where ever fate or fortune thought it best for him to be. As he rounded the corner, hands in his dark brown pants pockets, he spotted another person in the hallway that appeared to be struggling a tad with her luggage. She was a petite lady in what appeared to be a black-and-white outfit. He had to admit, though, she had a certain air of intimidation. It was rather surprising. A commanding presence, perhaps? He removed his hands from his pockets as he took a few steps nearer.
"Pardon my imposition on you and your destination young miss, but it would appear to me that you are in a state of mild discomfort, which I deduce to stem from what seems to be a cumbersome amount of baggage. A certain sense of duty and willingness to assist drives me to ask the following question, that being, need a hand?" Will asked in the most overly-elaborate manner he could. He said so naturally, one would think he spoke in such a manner all the time. In truth, he was just having fun with the situation.
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To call him a ghost was almost insulting. They were far too visible as far as the assassin was concerned. Sitting within the umbra of the rafters, the killer watched as his target paid respects to the duchess sitting upon her throne. He was bowing low to the ground, face almost touching the floor. A fitting spot for it, given the snake that he was. The nobleman of the Western lands came to talk of alliance and trade, but the Shadow above knew far better. This ruse's only purpose was to gain funding for the army amassing in the East. With their combined strength this fortress would fall, and in turn would cause a rebellion that could very well destroy the entirety of all the kingdom states. And for what? More money? Supposed power? The assassin's armed hand ached for the man's flesh. A slow breath passed through his masked mouth. He had to be patient. Striking too soon would cause just as much harm. The duchess' guard captain was on his way already. When he brought the news of the nobleman's treachery, and the noble attempted his own bit of murder, then the assassin would attack. Thousands of lives would be spared, but more importantly, the Shadow's thirst for revenge would have its slim indulgence.

He waited. And he waited. And he waited some more. By gods, could that guard ride any slower? The gut wrenching smile on that man's face was driving the assassin closer to ending him with each passing minute. Even after years of doing this, and all the training he underwent, controlling his rage still proved to be a challenge. All the while, the lady in her seat ate up every facade she was being fed as though it were a verbal feast. At long last, the doors of the keep burst open. The Shadow didn't even have to listen to what the armored man had to say, he knew all too well as the noble's face twisted in anger. He turned to the duchess, drew his dagger, and charged the plump lady. She screeched and the guard captain drew his sword. Now it was time for a bit of fate to intervene.

The dive was quick and graceful. The assassin's trajectory was perfectly in sync with the enraged nobleman's steps. The last thing he would ever see was a looming darkness overhead, and a pair of unholy red eyes.
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That night, the boy wept like he had never done so before. It was so much agony to endure. The man who was to be his savior lay dead. The boy himself had butchered two people. The most painful of all, though, was that the one man truly responsible for every ounce of this grief was gone. Ripped unfairly from the boy's revenge hungry hands. The slave trader, Jeral, now lay as a corpse in a chair with merely a small slit in his neck. His body should have been torn apart, organs and bones spread about the room, blood painting the floor and walls. That was the death he deserved. Not a silent, peaceful descent into darkness, but unimaginable fear. Why did she have to kill him first? Why couldn't he have just controlled himself and be finished with those bodyguards even a few seconds sooner? He had no way of knowing what would happen, sure, but it was rather evident that all his unleashed fury was more of a hindrance than a help. It only worsened how he felt right now.

"If you don't shut up I'm going to break your jaw." A commanding voice boomed from beyond a heavy wooden door. The boy's weeps were stifled. His poorly kept teeth clenched his trembling bottom lip. "Just go to sleep already, damn." The voice, a feminine one, finished. The albino boy was tempted to ignore her order, but he bit down on his flesh until the pain distracted him from his emotional suffering. She would, literally, kill him if he kept sobbing. Already he was operating under terms like a guillotine: By morning he had to decide if he would join her, or else she would kill him. For many it should be a simple decision. Tonight, though, it really was a hard decision to make. He had nothing left in his life now, only an unquenchable rage. And what of this enlistment? Would he just become a puppet once more, like he was for Jeral for so long? As the night carried on, sleep would eventually come to strip him of his sorrows and offer him a brief bit of peace.

"So what will it be, kid?" The woman asked as she stood in the doorway, dagger at the ready. "I have no problem with stabbing you right here and now. Keep that in mind as you answer." The boy met her gaze for an instant, but returned to the floor beneath their feet. He had to decide now, and was silent as he did so. To live, or not to live. To live with this boiling hatred, or seek the eternal embrace. The woman was rather patient, but saw that the boy was having a hard time deciding. "Listen to me. I'm not going to repeat myself. Death is not something anyone should be begging for. If you think about every possibility that can come with it, your odds are pretty shitty that one of them is going to be good. But right here, right now, you've got something that you can feel and know. This is as real and true as it gets. If you want to give that up on a gamble, fine, I'll make it quick. But you'd best be damn sure." She said nothing more after that, merely flipped the knife around and readied it. The boy gazed at her. He gazed with those sad, enraged, but innocent red eyes. He thought of what she had said. He thought of his now dead friend. He thought of where ever Jeral resided right now. Tears leaked out, but he shut his eyes and tried to fight them back as he spoke. "I don't want to die."
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Illfang the Kobold Lord
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    Keiyo ██████████▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
    _________________250 / 250 | LV: 1
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Test of some text over here.
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__________Kreiva Ruskilitzer_________


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T H E _ D E M O N _ S L A Y E R

PHOENIX

"This isn't the end. I will return, and the Black Mage will suffer for what he's done!"

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"This is a test of some text."
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    Kaile ██████████▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
    _________________4600 / 4600 | LV: 21
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