Chapter 3
"Now, would you mind running that by me once more?"
Rayen sighed. This was the third time the officer had asked for his story. It was past midnight and he was drained both mentally and physically. The officer seemed skeptical, it was clear he thought Rayen knew more about what happened. He was right. Rayen had told the truth, just not the whole truth.
"We were woken up (this was true, he just didn't say WHAT woke them up), and we went outside. We saw what was left of the explosion (true as well, but he didn't specify when), and we figured the danger must have passed." He exhibited the burnt patch of grass in his backyard as evidence.
"Why was there no shrapnel or anything?"
Rayen shrugged. Rayen could not answer that question without lying, so he remained silent. The cop cast one last suspicious look at him, called his partners, and left. He heard the cop car pull out of the driveway, and waited until the sound was far away. He let out a sigh of relief and went upstairs.
Rayen's father came out of his room.
"They gone?"
"Yeah, finally. I had to go over it three times before they were satisfied. I wouldn't be surprised if they came back tomorrow with a search warrant- or should I say later today."
It was 1:30 in the morning. Rayen yawned. Joseph O'Connor looked at his son with concern.
"You look beat. Go up and get some rest."
"Best idea I've heard all morning."
Rayen left. His father sighed. It had all been so strange. First the monsters, and then his son turning into a Dragoon, the legendary warriors which had not been seen for over a thousand years! Of course, sooner or later someone would find out about his powers, and then he would have to leave home. Rayen leaving home. He didn't want to think about that right now. Best to let the matter drop. Rayen seemed edgy, almost afraid of this new power that he had been given.
Rayen opened the door to his room. He flopped face-first onto the bed. Even though he was tired beyond belief after the fight and his miraculous transformation, he felt stronger than he had ever been before. It was if some of the power he had gained as a Dragoon had become a permanent part of him, even when he wasn't in Dragoon form. This troubled him. Why had he, of all people, become a Dragoon? He was no legendary warrior. He had only been taking lessons with the sword for about a year and a half, and was hardly a master.
He sighed. There was really no point in worrying about this now. He needed sleep. None of this would be gone tomorrow, as much as he wished it would. He would deal with it then. He closed his eyes, and almost instantaneously fell asleep.
Rayen had a dream, but it was unlike any dream he had experienced before. He stood (or was it floated? He couldn't tell) in an endless void of nothingness. Nothing, not even color. It was endless black. Rayen wondered how he could breathe, since there was obviously no air. But that wasn't important. This was not your run-of-the-mill dream, he could tell. It was some sort of vision, and he was brought here for a reason.
As if on cue, a voice came from the void.
"A great power has been given to you, warrior, but also a great burden. Do you accept this?"
"Do I have much of a choice?" Rayen shot back dryly. He was still slightly troubled over the whole ordeal, and it caused him to be somewhat bitter and cynical toward this statement.
The spectral voice did not seem bothered, however, in fact, a laugh came out of the corners of the void.
"Astute observation! No, there is no choice. It is your destiny."
"Next time, can you inform my destiny that a simple postcard will suffice?"
The voice laughed again, then became serious.
"Listen well, for this is important. The power you felt when you first transformed is nothing compared to what you will feel when you become more experienced. Dragoons have changed from what they were a millennium ago. There are no longer merely a handful of spells such as the one I cast-"
"So it was you that cast that spell!"
"Yes. I hope you didn't mind me borrowing the use of your body for a moment. You see, I was breaking down a barrier. To control even the weakest of Dragoon Magic takes months of training, but now that should not be a problem for you."
"Alright. Now, as you were saying?"
"Right. As I was saying, there are no longer merely a handful of spells available to you. You may use these spells, but you may also control a different type of magic. You can bend the very essence of magic to your will. You can create any spell you wish, although it will take more energy. This will make you much more versatile than your predecessors. You will need it."
"Sounds like I've got my work cut out for me."
"Indeed you will. My most important message to you is; train your powers. Use them well, young warrior."
Rayen disappeared, back to his peaceful rest.
Another voice came out of the emptiness. While the first voice was a man's, this one was most definitely feminine.
"As you said, this is a great burden. Do you think he can do it?"
After she said this, the speaker appeared. It was a young woman, with brown hair and eyes that looked as if they had seen too many of the sorrows of the world. Next to her, a young man materialized. He was dressed in red armor with spiked blond hair. He spoke, with the voice that had came to Rayen out of the void.
"I don't know. He is young, even younger than we were when the burden was first placed upon us."
"He is also not trained as a warrior, as we were," Shana pointed out.
"He will just have to pick it up as he goes," a third voice commented. "Besides, it was a now-or-never sort of thing."
A man with a blond ponytail, dressed in armor and a green cape appeared beside the others. He was followed immediately by a gigantic man in huge armor.
"King Albert right. If he not changed then, monsters kill boy and father."
"He has his father and friends. The thought of protecting them will keep him strong."
A dark-haired woman in purple armor materialized near the others.
"Rose has a point. He has motivation, although he may not realize it yet."
One by one, each of the nine Dragoons of the past appeared in the void, each offering their own views into the boy's future. They debated for a long while, for even time exists in the emptiness of the world of the dead. Eventually Dart interrupted the conversation.
"Enough. We cannot decide the boy's path. That choice is his alone."
The other eight nodded in thoughtful agreement. One by one, all the eight disappeared, back to their watchful rest. After a few minutes, only Dart remained. He stared out into the void, sorting his pensive thoughts. It was a long time before he faded away as well.
"Now, would you mind running that by me once more?"
Rayen sighed. This was the third time the officer had asked for his story. It was past midnight and he was drained both mentally and physically. The officer seemed skeptical, it was clear he thought Rayen knew more about what happened. He was right. Rayen had told the truth, just not the whole truth.
"We were woken up (this was true, he just didn't say WHAT woke them up), and we went outside. We saw what was left of the explosion (true as well, but he didn't specify when), and we figured the danger must have passed." He exhibited the burnt patch of grass in his backyard as evidence.
"Why was there no shrapnel or anything?"
Rayen shrugged. Rayen could not answer that question without lying, so he remained silent. The cop cast one last suspicious look at him, called his partners, and left. He heard the cop car pull out of the driveway, and waited until the sound was far away. He let out a sigh of relief and went upstairs.
Rayen's father came out of his room.
"They gone?"
"Yeah, finally. I had to go over it three times before they were satisfied. I wouldn't be surprised if they came back tomorrow with a search warrant- or should I say later today."
It was 1:30 in the morning. Rayen yawned. Joseph O'Connor looked at his son with concern.
"You look beat. Go up and get some rest."
"Best idea I've heard all morning."
Rayen left. His father sighed. It had all been so strange. First the monsters, and then his son turning into a Dragoon, the legendary warriors which had not been seen for over a thousand years! Of course, sooner or later someone would find out about his powers, and then he would have to leave home. Rayen leaving home. He didn't want to think about that right now. Best to let the matter drop. Rayen seemed edgy, almost afraid of this new power that he had been given.
Rayen opened the door to his room. He flopped face-first onto the bed. Even though he was tired beyond belief after the fight and his miraculous transformation, he felt stronger than he had ever been before. It was if some of the power he had gained as a Dragoon had become a permanent part of him, even when he wasn't in Dragoon form. This troubled him. Why had he, of all people, become a Dragoon? He was no legendary warrior. He had only been taking lessons with the sword for about a year and a half, and was hardly a master.
He sighed. There was really no point in worrying about this now. He needed sleep. None of this would be gone tomorrow, as much as he wished it would. He would deal with it then. He closed his eyes, and almost instantaneously fell asleep.
Rayen had a dream, but it was unlike any dream he had experienced before. He stood (or was it floated? He couldn't tell) in an endless void of nothingness. Nothing, not even color. It was endless black. Rayen wondered how he could breathe, since there was obviously no air. But that wasn't important. This was not your run-of-the-mill dream, he could tell. It was some sort of vision, and he was brought here for a reason.
As if on cue, a voice came from the void.
"A great power has been given to you, warrior, but also a great burden. Do you accept this?"
"Do I have much of a choice?" Rayen shot back dryly. He was still slightly troubled over the whole ordeal, and it caused him to be somewhat bitter and cynical toward this statement.
The spectral voice did not seem bothered, however, in fact, a laugh came out of the corners of the void.
"Astute observation! No, there is no choice. It is your destiny."
"Next time, can you inform my destiny that a simple postcard will suffice?"
The voice laughed again, then became serious.
"Listen well, for this is important. The power you felt when you first transformed is nothing compared to what you will feel when you become more experienced. Dragoons have changed from what they were a millennium ago. There are no longer merely a handful of spells such as the one I cast-"
"So it was you that cast that spell!"
"Yes. I hope you didn't mind me borrowing the use of your body for a moment. You see, I was breaking down a barrier. To control even the weakest of Dragoon Magic takes months of training, but now that should not be a problem for you."
"Alright. Now, as you were saying?"
"Right. As I was saying, there are no longer merely a handful of spells available to you. You may use these spells, but you may also control a different type of magic. You can bend the very essence of magic to your will. You can create any spell you wish, although it will take more energy. This will make you much more versatile than your predecessors. You will need it."
"Sounds like I've got my work cut out for me."
"Indeed you will. My most important message to you is; train your powers. Use them well, young warrior."
Rayen disappeared, back to his peaceful rest.
Another voice came out of the emptiness. While the first voice was a man's, this one was most definitely feminine.
"As you said, this is a great burden. Do you think he can do it?"
After she said this, the speaker appeared. It was a young woman, with brown hair and eyes that looked as if they had seen too many of the sorrows of the world. Next to her, a young man materialized. He was dressed in red armor with spiked blond hair. He spoke, with the voice that had came to Rayen out of the void.
"I don't know. He is young, even younger than we were when the burden was first placed upon us."
"He is also not trained as a warrior, as we were," Shana pointed out.
"He will just have to pick it up as he goes," a third voice commented. "Besides, it was a now-or-never sort of thing."
A man with a blond ponytail, dressed in armor and a green cape appeared beside the others. He was followed immediately by a gigantic man in huge armor.
"King Albert right. If he not changed then, monsters kill boy and father."
"He has his father and friends. The thought of protecting them will keep him strong."
A dark-haired woman in purple armor materialized near the others.
"Rose has a point. He has motivation, although he may not realize it yet."
One by one, each of the nine Dragoons of the past appeared in the void, each offering their own views into the boy's future. They debated for a long while, for even time exists in the emptiness of the world of the dead. Eventually Dart interrupted the conversation.
"Enough. We cannot decide the boy's path. That choice is his alone."
The other eight nodded in thoughtful agreement. One by one, all the eight disappeared, back to their watchful rest. After a few minutes, only Dart remained. He stared out into the void, sorting his pensive thoughts. It was a long time before he faded away as well.