The dark figure ran through the blackened back alleys of Dublin City, his shadow following his movements eerily across the walls surrounding him: the alleys barely illuminated by the faint lamplight from the main streets. The figure skidded to a halt at the alleys end, just staying back enough to be kept hidden in the shadows.
He heard the count down begin and much cheering from the city, but he tried to concentrate on what he needed to see.
The count down accelerated, he felt the familiar twinge to run out and join everyone in their either drunken or sober fun. The streets where certainly filled with the classic Irish rowdiness they had become famous for. The countdown ended with a massive cheer and the whistles of fireworks shooting into the sky, within seconds the dark clouded night sky was a display of vivid colours, flashes of light, crackles and bangs. And then he saw what he needed to see. A strange shape passed between the dust of fireworks in the sky, disappearing as quickly as it had came.
He was confident only he had seen it.
After all, you had to have eyes of a certain nature to see into the world of magic.
The next morning the young man, possibly still a teenager, awoke from a dreary sleep. He yawned and stretched out in his four-poster bed, he lived in the North of Ireland in a place called County Tyrone. He wore a white tank top which was all was visible of his clothes underneath his comfortable blue linen blankets. Obviously he lived in a wealthy family.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes, brushing his hair from his eyes. He had rich golden blonde hair that he let grow long frequently; it was died into a ponytail close to his head so it spread out gracefully behind him. He opened his crystal blue eyes wide, adjusting to the sunlight.
He yawned again and got out of the bed, revealing that he had only been wearing boxers under the covers, as was typical for most men. He stretched and looked himself in his full body mirror. He flexed slightly, revealing his well-muscled arms. Grinning slightly to himself he hummed the tune to the classic TV show 'Friends.'
He opened his wardrobe and took out a green army-type jacket and his deep blue denim jeans.
He got dressed and left his room, he stood in the house landing for a moment and made his way down the stairs lazily. He lived in a medium sized house, basically in the middle of nowhere. He also lived alone. That was to say, apart from his dog and the cows in the surrounding fields. For some reason he seemed to like the feeling of being secluded.
He looked at the clock on the kitchen wall, which told him the time was one thirty in the afternoon. He yawned again and grimaced. He had slept in again.
"Ah well, that's that," he said to himself in a low voice.
He stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled, a white and black sheepdog bounded around the corner of the room and slid to a halt in front of his owner, wagging his tail optimistically. The figure bent down and pet the dog, before lightly shooing him away again.
He turned; it was then that he noticed the letter lying on the worktop. He picked it up curiously and slit it open with his finger nails.
'Tenryú,
I know it's been a long time. Trust me, I know that better than anyone, I'm sorry for what happened last time. You know I would never have left the way I did. But I did, and its about time that I told you the truth … I know it sounds pathetic, but would you understand what I meant if I say I couldn't handle the pressure of our work?
We were born into the world of magic, but it is you that is suited for that world, and especially our line of work.
I left not to spite you, but to make you proud … you were always like a father and a brother to me, it is what you deserve! So now I am writing to tell you … I found one. A scale of the great Irish dragons, though along with the scale I discovered something troubling. The dragon you've been tracking … it's the final dragon in Ireland. I found the scale in the bone yard. (You know where I mean.)
The order has now ordered us to leave the Dragon in peace, but I doubt you'll be able to do such a thing. Its not your style to take something this far and then leave it, orders or not. We all discovered that with the case of the Werewolves!
Meet me in Dungannon, above the roof of the Oaks centre behind the Sainsbury's sign so we don't get seen. And bring a bag and whatever you need to last a few weeks, we're going to see this final dragon up close. Do me a favor, don't bring the dog this time!
Yours faithfully and truly,
Ryúu.'
Tenryú sighed yet again.
"About time!"