Dragon Ball 13th: The Rising Sun

by: Supr

A/N: Writing again, slowly. Switching to google docs for story editing purposes. Had a few inspirations, took tons of motivation. I eventually got it. So sit back and enjoy.
**"ARCOSIAN" WILL BE THE NAME FOR FRIEZA'S RACE**

Credit to Brii-Chan, Crimson and CalveronGaming for being the story editor.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball, that belongs to Akira Toriyama.

Edit: I've always disliked this chapter no matter how much I've edited it. So once and for all, I've finally decided to put an end to it all with an edit to end all edits. Feel free to spot anything that seems off. It would be greatly appreciated.

Chapter 1

Above the towering trees existed a full landscape of tightly packed coniferous trees, covering it like a thick blanket made of green. Underneath the dense forest was almost contrary to the world above, with a dirt ground comprised of dead fir needles and wide tree stems coming in different shapes and sizes. The sound of birds sang throughout the broad forest, as many species roamed the high branches that neighbored each other closely. The sun peaked at the center of the sky, and lit the ground with its warming touch, making it a fine mid-summer temperature upon the surface; an ideal moment for the prey to swing on by.

A fine boar trotted through the dark shades of the woods, walking by unnoticeably and vacant of others. Even the birds, as the chirping was reduced to a near-noiseless sound from across the forest. The furry beast kept on moving onward like any other animal within this region, wandering around like any other sentient creature. Little did it know that it was about to become another seven-course meal, especially with the meat it was packing. This wasn't any ordinary boar; it was a massive thing, just waiting to be slaughtered and stripped of its tasty features.

Sling!

The boar's head rolled along the ground and clunked against a tree, with the body remaining still and standing like a statue. After a moment, the large pig fell over its side and hit the dirt ground, making a deep thumping sound upon impact, followed by the unsheathing of a machete over to the side of the dead boar. As the animal lay dead, a man turned around and approached the deceased creature, beheaded cleanly as the neck stump appeared to be flat. The tall, lean man with long flowing blond hair formulated a satisfying smile upon his lips, knowing he had caught a remarkable catch for the day. His skills had surely developed into a profession over his years of hunting wild animals. It's how he lived predominantly, unlike those city dwellers who walk to a market to buy all of their food rather than earn it with hard work.

Ryal preferred to earn everything he gets, as freebies have never done any good for the greater. He was independent, always getting things done on his own. That's how he rolls, remaining at the top of the food chain where he lives.

The sounds of flapping and cries can be heard from below, echoing throughout the trees left and right, alerting Ryal to move along quickly. It wasn't an excellent idea to stick around with predatory birds, so he lifted the dead boar and threw it over his left shoulder before taking off towards the cottage located miles away. To him, it wasn't a big deal for the matter. He had the whole area memorized by heart, knowing all the places and routes, the locations of ideal hunting areas and whatnot. He lived here for many years, exploring the different locations nearly every other day. It was another preference, knowing all the places in the back of his mind. It made his work a lot easier over the course of days and weeks.

After a few minutes had gone by, Ryal set foot inside his cottage located uphill from a nearby lake with clear, calm waters as the wind current was slow and subtle. He walked over to a workbench and dumped the dead boar onto it before traveling over to the kitchen, gathering the necessary tools to skin the oversized thing and have it for dinner. Here he had access to freely do whatever he desires, with no city nearby or even a neighbor. Nobody was there to bother him. Not a single soul within a radius several miles wide was there to pester him.

A photo of Ryal's parents sat next to the workbench on a side table, showing a large, robust man on the right, with a short, endomorphic female on the left. His parents had lived similar lives, and here they looked like true, self-sustaining individuals; their facial expressions were gruff, with the man physically conditioned to the brim and the woman looking like no slouch either. Within the bottom center of the picture displayed a young child of prepubescent age, with sharp blue eyes and a blond mop head like he hadn't combed his hair in weeks. It reminded him of the memories when he would go outside with his father to hunt for prey. They're like partners in hunting, two of a kind on a mission to bring home the most satisfying feast for the rest. The joy that it brought before and after was remarkable, literally causing the young man to break a faint smile as he continued cutting open his meat. Those were the days, the days that came and went before time took its change and made its lasting impact on Ryal, along with the rest of the family.

Hours later, the man had already finished up his meal and threw the towel after cleaning the last remaining dish. The tall lad walked over to his bedroom, consisting of a single bed in the corner of the petite room and a night table next to it with a lamp sitting atop of it. He looked over to the other end of the room, which was a wide open flat space with a door handle on a closet installed into the wall. Quickly, Ryal pulled it open and began changing into cleaner clothes. He threw on a new pair of white gi pants and pulled over a red t-shirt before sliding his arms through a black gi tunic over top the shirt. Lastly, he reached for his black belt and tied it around his waist, leaving a knot right in the center of the body. He then wrapped much of his hair into a ponytail, useful for keeping his hair out of his face. This is what he wore every day, something simple and easy. He lived off by himself, after all, nothing to worry about when it comes to appearance.

The young lad came out the back door of his cottage and traveled downhill towards the fishing stretch; a long rocky chunk of land that extended outwards into the lake. The stretch was infested with live fish swimming through the calm waters silently as the wind breeze blew soft ripples through the liquid surface of the lake. Calm and subtle, a place that can define the meaning of peace. Upon arriving at the fishing stretch, Ryal lowered himself to the ground and crossed his legs together, slowly letting his shoulders drop from tight to ease, letting the body slack from the upbeat pace of the thriving midday. His eyes steadily became narrow, eventually closing as his hands rested with the palms facing up. This was the state of meditation, an ideal of nondisturbance. The scenery, fulfilled with thriving life and the peaceful sensation made it easy to simply let the thoughts go, sinking down and down, until they gracefully touched the lakebed of the serene waters — or so that's how he imagined it, figuratively. To the young lad, it's a stress reliever put bluntly. Every bit of training needed a bit of self-control, a training of the mind to match the body. It was not to surpass one another and dominate, but to seek unity in mind and body. His father's words had always described that a genuine warrior possesses strength equal to the mind, always racing as one.

A low rumble came in like a sudden wave from the north, rippling the water, quivering the tree-dwelling rodents before they rushed into their holes, and causing the trees to waver eccentrically. Birds were heard flapping their wings in packs as they took off towards the west as if to escape from something. Ryal raised a brow as he levitated off the ground, eventually reaching the treetops as he opened an eye and scanned the landscape. The distant greenery began toppling over, opening a thick path clear from below. Other paths in the distance began to open from the horizon as the first one headed towards the cottage. Intrigued, the blond lad exited his meditation state and ran uphill, feeling the ground shake more violently and the trees to sway harshly. He arrived at the cottage deck, catching the unorthodox sound of machinery nearby, plowing through trees to emit the sounds of breaking branches and loud thumps that shook the ground vigorously. This was definitely the sign of not only one newcomer, but a barrage of people causing massive disturbances as they came.

Tightening his fists, Ryal gritted his teeth at the presence of these unknown trespassers. What were they doing here? Especially with all this noise and destruction, as if they're angered over a particular thing. Why did it have to affect him along with his home and the life that existed here?

Suddenly, the thick huddled trees bordering the open field around the cottage broke down. In the middle part of the path that formed from these newcomers existed a hovering contraption, moving along the ground towards the cottage deck. The thing must have been five to ten meters tall, with a thin, long barrel at the top pointed towards Ryal. It was gray in color, in the shape of an upside down bowl with a flat plate on top, which spun at ludicrous speeds to cut down the tree branches in the way like a razor. Below the spinning razor dish were lizard humanoid-like creatures defined with cold colors and an appearance that sent shivers down the spine of any man. The first thought that came into the mind of the warrior, was that these were the lizard people of the north. From the stories he heard from his father, they're aggressive and territorial, seeking out for power continuously. It was ill-fitting to see them down this far, but nonetheless, a threat.

From the large contraption, the barrel on the top shot a thin, electric bullet straight at the deck. Upon seeing this, Ryal launched himself out of the path before impact. The bullet landed on a deck railing, setting off an explosion that left a gaping hole at the corner of the house, with black cooked shards on the ends of the torn off wood materials that flew everywhere. Ryal, who was levitating high up in the sky practically went wide-eyed at the results of the blast, stirring up fear and anger inside of him. Looking over to the side, was the contraption continuing to inch forward like nothing had ever happened as if the house he had forged with his own hands was simply another tree, an object like any other that shared the same consequences.

Ryal grimaced, fixing his attention over to the floating tank. Attempting to calm himself down, the man lowered himself down into the open field between the deck and the ice people, touching his heels to the ground and standing there.

"Who are you!?" He exclaimed.

One of the lizard people, holding a staff made of compact ice and some sort of purple substance, pointed the end of his weapon and fired another bolt of electricity straight at the tall lad. Having learned from the previous experience, Ryal ran forward and ducked under the bolt, letting it land on the side of the deck once again. He continued to charge at the tank, arriving in a matter of milliseconds. He leaped forward towards the contraption, looking down at the guards and the leading man in the front holding a staff.

Ryal cried out in anger, unsheathing his machete and slicing the staff in half, causing small purple particles to fly outwards. Ryal landed onto the contraption a few feet away from the ice man before turning around, making eye contact with the lizard thing. Its eyes were bloodshot with fury. Bloodlust radiated from the foreigner, powerful enough to seep into Ryal's skin and strike fear in his chest. It was something else entirely, almost like staring into the ugly face of death himself.

"Bastard! You broke my wand!"

The words rang in his ears. The sound was hideous, distinguishable to anything he's ever listened too. Peculiar to say the least, had he ever thought that such a vibration in the air ever existed.

Before he came to his senses, a hand slammed into Ryal's cheek, sending him straight down the open field for many yards to go. Swiftly, the man recovered from his fall and regained his posture. One of the guards had already leaped off of the hovering vehicle, however, surprising Ryal as a fist pounded into his stomach, making him double over in pain. The blond fighter looked up towards the cold creature as he immediately covered the point of impact, watching the thing retreat back to the tank. What was he running away for? The hit was mediocre at best, but he had an excellent opening for another attack.

Then it came to him, Ryal found himself kneeling on the ground, gasping for air. Checking his midsection, he lifted his hand from the wounded area and found blood spilling from the gaping hole in his stomach. His vision gradually became blurry as his body experienced a numbness that spread outwards like a rapid virus. His movement instantaneously turned sluggish, and his conscience was drifting away from his thought process. Anything that he was thinking about before practically disappeared, as drowsiness enveloped his body like a thick blanket, bribing him to fall into an everlasting sleep that would rid of the entire course of his future...

. . .

Ryal's eyes shot open, his gaze directly facing the overcast sky. The light managed to make his eyes squint slightly, though it only prompted him to turn away towards the dirt ground. Quickly, the blond lad felt the cold air breeze through his skin and hit the bone, automatically bringing to the question of his whereabouts. Confused, Ryal began to look left and right, noticing the surrounding trees and familiar landscape. He certainly wasn't far from home, but nothing of the location seemed to be of his knowledge, only similar. However, his concern drifted over to something even more engrossing.

It was the shelter that was set up merely a few yards away, along with a campfire emitting mild heat. Ryal blinked a few times, making out what was going on. His whereabouts weren't anywhere to his knowledge, and his memories of previous things were dim and cloudy. Slowly, he began to get a feel of himself, attempting to check his own condition. He retracted his legs, feeling nothing of soreness or pain. He bent his arms tightly without restraint. Afterward, he sat up, hugging his knees whilst feeling no pain to his surprise.

No pain, he thought, backtracking his thoughts before his unconsciousness. He knew there were pain and loss. He knew it was there, the destruction of his home, with his memories alongside it. The bizarre contraption that tore apart the forest wherever it went, and those things. He couldn't forget those figures even if he tried, but the minor details were quite unclear. Unsure of himself, Ryal began to trail his hands around his body, finding any possible damage that may have been done. Eventually, he came across the left side of his midsection, where he felt a small bit of abnormality. He pulled up his red t-shirt and saw minor bruising across his belly. Ryal raised a brow, tracking through his old memories. If he remembered correctly, he was stabbed there, though the results wouldn't be minor bruising for sure.

Just what the hell happened?

"To answer any questions you may be having, you've just won the lottery with the luck you're having." A voice spoke from behind him.

Ryal immediately turned around to see a traveler stand before him. He wasn't a tall fellow, but rather a smaller, thin guy. Definitely not a fighter judging from his physique, but an upright man with a bit of confidence to make up for it. He wore short, tan cargos along with a green t-shirt. He had a large tilley hat with the same color as his shorts along with an identical colored backpack to carry his luggage around. Lastly, he had an exciting look upon his face, with glowing green eyes and jet black hair. Why he even camped out here in the middle of nowhere, aroused Ryal's interest of why it would be,

"Where are we?" The blond lad questioned, staring up at the traveler.

"We are located at the coordinates of X-5512 and Y-1684, otherwise known as the north-eastern lands of Terrinosis, exactly 23 kilometers north of Fleon city." He answered loud and clear like he's some kind of designed answering machine ready on the spot to give specific details about anything. Ryal found himself stunned by this sudden burst of knowledge spattering onto him. All he really cared about was the fact that they were near the city capital Fleon, which is good enough for him.

A grin formed on the man's face, "Surprised? You're lucky that I caught you before your life had given in. Now then…" He spoke, leaning down to Ryal to look into his eye. "Who are you?"

The young man pondered the question, given that he was many things. He was a man who lived by himself, absent of his family and lived by nothing but the resources he could gather. He was many other things too; he practiced martial arts, had a thing for hunting, and enjoyed the calm scenery by his lake. However, all of that living he enjoyed was gone now that he thought about it more. More things in his memory slowly unraveled as he thought about who he was, exactly.

Ryal returned his look into the man's eye, his lips curling into a smirk, "Just who the hell am I?" he responded, standing up to his feet.

The traveler found himself bewildered by Ryal's response, confused on how to even comment on it. As he was stunned, Ryal walked past him over to the nearby campfire. As seconds came by, he regained his thoughts and returned his attention to the taller man.

There was a short, awkward pause before the man spoke, "Well, the rest of your clothes is over by the tent. Feel free to chow down on some of the cooked meat over by the fire." The short man informed, fixing up his posture.

Ryal sniffed around the roasting meat over the campfire, developing a ravenous appetite over the compelling smell, instantly making his mouth water. His desire for food was even strong enough for his stomach to consume a horse. The smaller lad strolled towards the fire and took out the roasted meat, placing it onto a plastic dish over by the portable dining table. He looked up at the forest dweller with a faint smile.

"I can already tell, you must be eager to eat. Here, put your clothes on. I'll have your meal prepared instead."

Ryal took his word for it, grabbing his black tunic and belt. His mind roamed about, thinking of how long he was out for. He did eat an enormous boar after his previous hunt. He couldn't possibly forget that meal, but his starvation only meant that he was completely unconscious for over twenty-four hours.

"It's ready" The short one called out from behind him. Ryal immediately tightened his belt and stormed over to the portable table. The meal was made up of chicken wings, more than enough to satisfy his needs. He grabbed hold of the food and literally stuffed it in his mouth, spitting out any bone that got in the way of his feasting.

"By the way, you may call me Kento, in case you were wondering what to call me." He added.

Ryal gulped down the chunk of food in his mouth, "Pleasure to meet you, Kento. You can call me Ryal."

Kento let loose a wider smile, "Alright Ryal, it's good to see that you're well. I found you half dead with a hole in your stomach two days ago. It's a miracle to see that you're actually alive and well the instant you got up."

In between bites, Ryal began to spit out questions that popped into his mind, "How'd you know where I was?"

"I'm a traveler, and I was driven down southward because of the Arcosians. The instant they found you, they were completely distracted so I could successfully get by without being found." Kento explained, sitting down on the other end of the portable table.

"Arcosians?" Ryal questioned.

"Yeah, those are the guys you encountered. Their leader is a totalitarian dictator, so they're becoming very aggressive on a global scale. Haven't you read the news?"

Ryal finished off the wing he was chewing on, spitting out the bone onto his plate. He slid the plate off to the side and prompt his elbows onto the dining table surface. He cupped his chin in his hands and relax a bit to listen more intently.

"So that's what they're called?"

"Hmm, perhaps you should stop living under a rock and maybe get a grasp of what's going on out there. It ain't pretty I'll tell you that."

Ryal raised a brow, "I don't live under a rock."

"Of course you do, because you don't understand what I meant by it."

The blond forest dweller sighed, "Well, you took me all of the way out here. Is there anything you wanted out of me or...?" he spoke up, quickly changing the subject.

"I saw you half dead, so I decided to fix you up when I had the chance. Besides, I'm heading off to the city and maybe you could rent an apartment or something." Kento responded, speaking very bluntly.

"Rent an apartment?"

The shorter lad widened his eyes, "Goodness, have you ever been to the city before?"

Ryal responded with a shrug, "No, never have."

Kento sighed heavily, leaning upwards and standing up, "You done eating?"

Ryal returned his question with a simple nod, standing up afterward as well.

"Alright, you have two choices. I can leave you here to live off alone, and we can pretend that this thing here never happened. Or you can come with me on my travels since I could use a little company." He suggested.

The offer seemed to be rather simple. His home was literally hundreds of miles away, and reaching it to do the same thing he had been doing for years was dull. He never realized it before, but this new feeling of being all the way out here is fresh, with a vast adventure awaiting behind his offer. The newcomer was certainly blunt and pushy about what he does. But never has Ryal stepped outside the bounds of his own territory before. To enter an entirely new region was something he never thought he'd ever do in his lifetime. Besides, there was no way he could possibly seek payback on those ice people if he continued his regular lifestyle.

After pondering it for a moment, Ryal drifted his eyes towards Kento's, locking their gaze in place.

"I'll go with you, and I want to know every detail about these 'Arcosians' that you know."