1
Three thousand years ago, a great dragon-human war threatened to rip apart the planet. But a single golden dragon, the last of its kind, chose to stop the war as- The Dragon Booster! The dragon that called itself "The Dragon Booster" had the ability to transform into a human form, which helped it stay hidden from the war long enough. The Dragon Booster released the full power of itself, no matter what form... and stopped the fight by turning all dragons back to gold…
Word Paynn had his head on one of his big screens upon his dark lair. Word had his back facing to his son, Moordryd, who had listened irritatingly yet proudly to his father's story of the Dragon Booster. Moordryd had his arms crossed upon his chest, having his eyes narrowing; the, what he'd call, tale didn't seem much of an interest so far.
"I have learned, Moordryd," Word started, "that the ancient gold-boned dragon has been bred back into existence by my dear old friend- Connor Penn. And if I'm also correct, this is the day when the human chosen to be Dragon Booster is transforming into its dragon form. You, my son, will disguise yourself as an elite-class racer, and infiltrate Connor`s racing stable. You will take the gold dragon, either in human or true form!"
Moordryd cracked a smile and scoffed, "Don`t tell me how to steal dragons, father, my downcity crew and I have been stealing them for you most of my life."
Word, hearing, felt short rage within himself. He briskly turned to his son and said "This dragon must not transform back into its human form! The gold dragon's disguise of a human is the only thing that can slow me down, along with its strong powers." he stopped to give a powerful point to his son, as Moordryd started to listen more abruptly, "I will start a new dragon-human war, and when it's over, I will rule the world!"
At Connor Penn's stables, Artha, which was Connor's son, stood his back against one of the stables' walls, playing on his dragonracing vid-game. Artha's cyber dragon was had went to a higher position within the virtual race. "Yeah!" Artha chuckled, as the game screen softly fizzed, due to some graphical errors.
Upon the gameplay screen, Parmon Sean, who was Artha's best friend, appeared in a small cam square on the top right corner. Parmon complimented "Whoa! Nice moves, Artha! Now, you`re only three dragons behind me, ha!"
Parmon was playing with Artha in a multiplayer mode in the dragon game, so, realistically, Parom was playing in a rather far area from Artha. It didn't really explained the games problem, but it was Parmon who had took the chance to do some edifications towards the game, but Artha was not fully impressed with the results.
"Next time," Parmon advised, "maybe use blue draconium speed gear and red maneuver gear on a white dragon-"
"Parmon!" Artha interrupted, "Everything`s not all strategy, gear, and draconium energy! Sometimes, as in my case," he gave a smarmy look, "it`s just about being really, really good."
"Drac, Artha!" Parmon complimented, again, "Do you have any idea what a great dragon racer you can be?"
"Real dragons, Parm? Dah!" Artha rested his head temporarily on the wall, then continued playing the game, "Let`s just stick to designing our vid-game, Parm! That`s our ticket to fame and fortune!"
"Is your dad still bugging you about going to the Racing Academy, you know, with the Dragon Whisperer program, or, just actually racing dragons themselves?" Parmon asked.
In all of his life, Artha understood dragons. He would hear their voices instead of roaring, most of the time. Now that he was getting older, the voices were louder and more understanding. With this gift, his father had insisted into the Dragon Academy's Dragon Whisperer program, which dealt with talking to dragons so that they can cooperate more with their riders. Though, it was a bit rare that a dragon whisperer would enroll into the academy, but the program does pay the dragon whisperers good money. And, since Artha declined his father's suggestion, Connor would insist him to race on a dragon and try to enroll to Dragon Academy. Being reminded of this by Parmon had irritated Artha.
"All the time!" Artha complained, "Now he's really bugging me, just because I understand dragons even more! I mean, he sometimes wants me to translate Frachsun to lance, too! I'm starting to get sick of hearing all these voices. It's like I'm becoming a dragon!"
It was silent for a few seconds. Parmon finally spoke up, "So... how do you like the new wireless controllers I built? You see," Artha had rolled his eyes as Parmon continued, for Parmon was a clever young man, knowing many things, but he would speak in advance terms and rather quick for people to not understand him. "I got a hold of some draconium capacitors, re-wired the by-pass on the old gear contacts, and then I re-routed the switching devices and-"
The controller started to spark, in Artha's hands. Parmon had noticed, "It, um, well, it still needs some tweaking."
Artha smiled smugly, "Parm, it needs fixing."
When he glanced at his own hands, Artha's eyes widened. His right hand seemed to be shaking, as if it had low blood pressure, but Artha had plenty of nutrients that were activating his body. Artha tried to concentrate on the game but there had to be something stopping him. His entire body, mostly his bones, then ached entirely in pain that Artha dropped his game and it created the screen to go black for Parmon.
"Artha?!" Parmon exclaimed, now that he couldn't see Artha's screen.
Artha was on his knees and palms, the pain reigning more. At last the pain finally faded, making it now comfortable for Artha to stand to his feet.
"Artha?" Parmon called through the game's comm, for the game wasn't officially off for its communication system.
"I'm, I'm okay Parm!" Artha called, as he started to slowly stand, having a hand to the wall, "Just hang up, but just meet me here at the stables, I think I need to talk to you about something."
With no reply, Parmon cut the connection; Artha was sure when he heard the official beeping noise of disconnection. Artha thought he may need Parmon's wisdom to help him with this pain he was having. He didn't want to talk over the game's comm, for it may be a long conversation. It would be better if he'd just come in person.
What is going on? Artha asked himself, in thought.
Artha sighed, and pulled himself together when the pain completely vanished and walked off. He started to walk toward the direction of where his father would be in his studies; he thought he should asked his father first, before Parmon came. His pain expression turned into a neutral look, with his eyes with wondering determination.
In mid-walk, Artha had been pushed in the shoulder by a passing person. The person was Moordryd. "Out of my way, stable boy!" Moordryd huffed as he passed by.
"'Stable boy'?" Artha said, annoyed, "I'm Artha Penn," he gestured Moordryd to the sign of Penn stables, "of Penn Stables. Who are you?"
Moordryd grudgingly turned around, having a hand to his chest, introducing reluctantly, "Moordryd Paynn. I actually race dragons!" Moordryd examined Artha's looks and chuckled, "Looks like you clean up after them."
Moordryd walked off, with a smile on his face. His expression changed to a disgusted one, hearing a sudden squish on his foot.
Artha seemed to of stole Moordryd's smile, "Looks like you could use a little 'clean up' yourself."
Moordryd looked down disgustingly; his foot engaged dragon dung. Moordryd grunted, and stamped to Artha. He grabbed Artha by the shirt color, with both hands. The two boys gave each other raging faces but it was Moordryd's, surprisingly, whose face faded to a smug, pride, expression. He let go of Artha, who stood waiting for a fist or a sudden attack.
Moordryd had walked off with a smile, "You're not worth the trouble."
Artha looked at the floor angrily, thinking not worthy? Pfft, he would probably be envious when he learns I can talk to dragons! After some following thoughts, he had then just remembered about his game. He turned around, still seeing it lay on the floor. Scales! I forgot the game!
Artha took his hand out, walking towards the game. He stopped in shock, on his way to walking to it, the game controllers were vibrating. Artha's jaw dropped. The game console was vibrating towards his direction. As Artha walked toward the game machine, the vibration increased. The vid game console then jumped from the floor, heading to his direction. Artha screamed at the flying object, turning his head away to shield his face from damage, also raising his arms for defense.
To his surprise, there was no pain from the hard object. Instead, a sound of a shortage of suction was made, like when a vacuum had sucked a hard object in its way. Artha finally turned to his back and gasped. Upon his palm was the game console. Artha had examined his hand; gravity didn't pull the console off of his palm. He even tried to shake it, but it didn't fall off. It was like his hand was a magnate to the object, having a strong bond.
Artha then grabbed the console with his free hand and was able to pull the game off of his hand. Artha started to pant, again, from the shock he had temporarily endowed. What is going on?! He desperately thought.
Hiya, this is bolt5678/DianaGem. I have officially wrote a fanfiction that I had in mind a while back, but recently I decided to promote the idea out. I'm just submitting this chapter first, to see if there's any responses to this or what not. Sorry, if I may have taken someones idea, which I know many may have had this, so.. yeah. If you have questions about the story, they should be answered further on.
Just a little FYI: This story takes place of The Choosing Part 1/2. I'm still pending if I should continue it on part 2. And reminder: This is from an alternate universe, if you didn't understand it.
And yes... I wrote this chapter a bit bad...