Disclaimer: I do not own the original property I am making a fanfiction of. All rights and ownerships are reserved to the original creator(s). I am merely making a fanfiction and make no profit from it. Same goes for any concepts and material from other properties that appear. Images used belong to the original creator(s).
Rated M, for language, sex, violence, and other mature content.
Author's Note: (Skip if you just want the story.)
As I get closer to publishing this I need to give a quick, "warning" to say. This will be a bit of a slow burn. A few chapters will pass and we won't be in the cliche start up. We'll get to Kuoh, but again, slow burn and all. I can't just have the setup for a character and be like, "X amount of years past. He banged all the bitches with tig 'ol bitties and got stupid powerful but Freed of all people can hurt him" because that's not how I do things. With the ranting out of the way…
"Talking"
'Thinking'
{Scared Gear Spirit/Host talking to another mentally}
{Sacred Gear spirit speaking aloud.}
~Break in POV, time, and or location. Example: "~Vritra, Primeval Era, Earth."
Hopefully the (~) and dash show up. Hopefully...
Chapter One: The Start Of The Rise and The Fall
~Kjartan. 12000 B.C.E Scandinavia
'Another morning…' He thought to himself. Pushing and kicking the sheets of hide and silk, Kjartan rose from his bed. He walked towards the railing, making sure that even the ever vigilant, Askel, would not hear him. As he reached the balstrode of his bedroom in the hall he was glad to see no one was around. The long fire pit strip was slightly burning, the bath was empty, and everything just seemed normal. Well, as normal as it could get. The strip of fire could be mistaken for one meant for a mead hall, and the bath was a circle he could swim in. But, with a muscled and tall father like Askel, such a thing was needed. Finally putting on his furs and leathers, after standing still for many minutes, he slowly left the hall.
His eyes were met with the near black purple clouds of the morning. Each step made a crunch thanks to the snow. Even in the beginning of dawn he could see the white of snow covering it all. The fjord tops, the trees surrounding home, even the sea to the north, his left, had a thin sheet of ice coming from land. He neared the edge of the cliff, sitting and letting his legs drift. From the cliff top he could see the town below. 'If only today was one of those days.' He thought. Yes, he'd been in the village before, but something yearned in him to go down there and be amongst people. Here he was only with his parents. Oh, he loved them of course, but one needed more than family.
Father would always say, "If it wasn't for half of these people, I'd move the hall down here." While Kjartan laughed at the idea, he didn't quite understand the point. Half? Why was there a divide? Shouldn't all people be united? Perhaps that was a mere whimsical dream of youth. He'd never know.
As for the town, he could, somehow, hear the faint ring of metal. Ah, smiths were already to work. The very small orbs of yellow light proved that. At the pier some were setting out into the fjord. In honesty it seemed a fool's errand, fishing in such conditions. 'Oh well, a man must make his living one way.' Now his thoughts drifted to the few children he knew in town. There was Ulf, a boy with black eyes and the same colored hair with wispy strands of blue. Barely falling past his ears. While he wanted to talk to the boy more, Father seemed rather advantageous towards him. Then there was Bjorn. A boy who lived up to his name. While both were seven, Bjorn was tall and muscled. Eyes sea blue and brown hair. His fell down, often having to be gathered and tied in the back. Lastly, there was Afia. She was a year younger then him, with hair so near blood red, it would be an insult to call it crimson. Her eyes matched her hair. The mane fell to her shoulder, often being brushed to her right. The day he met the girl was an odd one. Where meeting Ulf and his, Askel acted worrisome, and Bjorn's an easy neutral, he seemed more than happy to talk to the Jarl Aldon, Afia's father. Perhaps they had history? It was never spoke of often. While the two elders talked, Afia and Kjartan spoke. Talking of their favorite heroes and tales of the gods. Odin sacrificing his eye being his favorite, and Thor challenging the World Serpent being hers. While thinking of the memories brought a brief bit of joy to his heart, the emptiness afterwards left him cold. 'Things will get better,' he thought. 'They have to. This isn't... living.' That was his final thought before he heard it. A low and vicious growl of a dog. He stood and looked back at it.
A beast, both man and wolf. With a very muscular and animalistic body. Black fur showing sick blue flesh. Black eyes. Long hands and feet armed with claws. A Ulfhedinn of legend. "So they left you alone? I can smell her and your father." The beast laughed in a strange way. "You haven't attacked? So young, so fresh!. I'll be sure to report this… once I've had my fill." The beat got on all fours and lunged. Kjartan turned to the cliffside. He would have weighed his options, but now was the time to fly and not to fight. Jumping, he began his descent. It was a going to be a long fall. Realizing what would soon happen he started to cry. This was it. He closed his eyes. Best not to see it coming, the dread would only increase.
Yet he heard something.
It was like leather dancing on a flagpole with the wind at full force.
When he opened his eyes he turned his head. Side to side. Wings, similar to that of a bat but still different. The membranes were jet black and covered in scales. The skin between was leathery and colored a dark violet like his eyes. Almost on instinct he tried steering himself. It was a struggle trying to use these new... limbs. Nearing the ground he made a risky choice. He dived! The wings went back and above his legs. About thirty meters to the ground he pulled up. He crossed his arms to hide his face. He flew into branches and his wings smacked against trees. That was painful. Eventually, he crashed into ten too many trees and feel. As he layed there in the snow, he became tired. His head was spinning, his wings-that was strange to think of-were most likely broken. He was thankful that he was away from the beast, but now he had a new problem. Well a few actually. First off, he had glided a bit too far from home. With the addition of wings this opened a world of questions. Most beginning with 'How,' or 'Why.' Then there was the real headache. His parents. His life was far from a fairy tale, so explaining that he had wings was going to be a trial on its own.
'This… is terrible.' He thought. An overwhelming need for sleep came to him.
{Most interesting…}
Kjartan was now in a strange… land? Impossible to tell. Wherever he was, it was made from nothing but black. The floor, wall, ceiling, everything. Hell, he was unsure if there were walls or a ceiling. The only thing being that said floor was stable ground. Thankfully. The most questioning thing was that damn voice. It had an elegant, almost posh attitude to it. While it sounded exhausted, above all it was animalistic. Powerful. Wherever the speaker is was also a question. It sounded mental and external.
Suddenly, two violet orbs filled the void. Their size dwarfing Kjartan's body. Most noticeably was there was no white, only the violet and black slits. Even if he could not see the colossal body, what his eyes were met with bled with a power. Nearly intimidating him to kneel like a peasant to a king.
{You're weak, sadly, but I have plenty of hope in you. I must, or we're damned. And I would prefer not to be. Get back to it." The eyes closed and he fell to the floor. Sleeping.
He woke to the sound of footsteps crushing snow and rhythm movement. He was being carried. As he opened his eyes, they locked with purple ones. A man with long jet black hair, fair skin, and a full and trimmed beard. Sharp handsome features if one was to say.
"Father," he said weakly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… do this. I got scared. A creature came charging at me and I cou-"
"Calm yourself child." Father interrupted. "I am not angered by your actions nor do I put any blame on you. Save your energy and try to fall back to sleep."
"But I need to tell you something. I have wings!" A pair of wings sprouted from Father's back! They differed from Kjartan's own both in size and color. Much larger and the leathery flesh was purple. They disappeared behind his back. He was flabbergasted.
"As I would expect a dragon like you to have." To say the least Kjartan's mind was spinning. Either his dad was making a strange joke… no, he also had wings!
"I'm a dragon? And you have wings.. does that mean…" His dad nodded. Kjartan was half awed and half amused. This stern and stoic man had more to him than his son ever thought.
"So mom is a dr-"
"No. There isn't a single trace of draconic blood in her. You on the other hand, your blood is half of it." This brought a bit of joy to Kjartan.
"So I'm still human?" The man was silent for a moment.
"Yes." Askel's gaze went back to the trail.
"So compared to you and others I'm… a weakling?" Suddenly the man stopped in his tracks.
"My son, never talk about yourself in such a way. You are my son. My heir. Yes, you're only half draconic, but that doesn't suppress the truth. Dragon blood, my blood is in you. To others you will forever be a dragon." Now he smiled. "You might be seven but from this day forth, your mother and I shall raise you as we should've been. Gods, I can only imagine her face when we get to the hall."
As they approached home he was finally let down.
"I have an idea," his dad began with a smile. "Get your wings out before we enter the hall. That should tell her everything." Kjartan did as he was told. Sprouting his wings. Once more it was just as simple as moving a limb, yet so weird since this was still so knew. they immediately folded up behind him. The feeling of wings was still so strange.
Pushing open the two great doors, the man gave him a nod forward. Seeing his mother, he watched as she went through so many emotions. Anger, shock, and love. Her scarlet eyes filled with tears. The two ran to each other and hugged.
"I thought something had happened. I thought we lost you." Both turned as Askel chuckled, near guffawed at his wife's words.
"Elizabeth, he is a dragon! The beast' teeth couldn't break his skin." He paused. "Well… I think it wouldn't." He cleared his throat and raised a pausing hand. "Regardless, I think it's time we get into training." Kjartan smiled but turned back to his mother. A groan and irked face catching his attention.
"You've already made your decision, I can tell. Well then," She stood, brushing her silver mane back over her shoulder. "I'll teach him in my ways, you gift him in your ways. Deal?" The man nodded.
'What ways? Father's a dragon, she's human! What ways could she…' The few teachings of language, history, and math came crashing into his thoughts. 'No. No. No. NO!' Luckily a certain scoff brought him out of such thoughts.
"Please, with dragon arts he'll have no need of vampiric arts!" The hall was silent for a bit after Askel's assurance. The only other noticeable thing being Mother shaking in visible rage.
"You… big mouthed, shadow spitting, whisker having, scale bag of the east!" In a flash an icicle the size of Kjartan zoomed past Askel's skull, thanks to a well timed sidestep Kjartan saw as a blur. Still, his mind was more on the whole… vampiric comment. Either it was from the fall or all of today's events, his head was spinning! Dragon, vampire, all being real and he being those things. How's a young boy suppose to handle this?
Among the chaos he stood silent. Yes, life would get… not difficult but odd. Perhaps better? Flying seemed fun, though he would need to train if his blunder was any warning. How is it that he would? Their area was sizable, yes, but nothing meant for this. And magic? Not that seemed dangerous and interesting. Well, it is magic.
Even with the many flying spears of ice… that was strange to think about, he made a decision. Try to take everything with a calm stride. He had already seen a beast of legend, discovered his family ranked among tales for many lands, and talked to a beast within the nameless void. How could he not follow with his decision? Yet something choked him inside, saying 'You'll still be a fumbling idiot.' Maybe he was hearing things, 'Wouldn't be the first time.' He thought.
Trying to defuse the situation he barked out one bright side.
Now Kjartan smiled. "I get to be a sorcerer!" The thought overjoyed him. Shamans and other divine authorities were revered amongst many. Plus the prospect of tossing fireballs seemed rather fun.
"Battle mage would be the more appropriate term, son." His father assured him, all while blurring to dodge shards of ice. "I have to talk to some old friends. Kjartan, it's time for you to meet your family."
'Wait who?' And like that he failed… somewhat.
-The next day.
As he and his mother walked out of the great hall, his ears were graced with a powerful sound. Animalistic and loud. A roar. From the north came a flying serpent. A long body of forty meters, four legs, all covered with jet black scales. A long snout with faint grey whiskers. Eyes purple and slitted, just like…"Father?" he said.
"Do I need to grab a saddle Askel?" His mother asked, unfazed by the sight of the flying serpent.
"Please do. I wouldn't want anyone to fall." The serpent said rather bluntly. It landed right in front of Kjartan. Somehow it seemed to smile right at him. "Excited son? Why so confused?"
While a big part was the fact of seeing his father as a damn snake, something stood out to him. "I thought you had wings?" His question was met with familiar black and purple wings sprouting out of his dad's back. They were much larger than before. Quickly they retracted back into the scales.
"My father, your grandfather, was an eastern dragon. While they don't have wings they still can fly. My mother was a westerner so she had wings. These wings. Your wings must've combined traits from your grandparents." He explained. In the moment Kjartan had to wonder, what would be his dragon form? He liked the look of wings, but the idea of merely flying on will was alluring as well. "Ah! Here's you mother… with a saddle. Hate the damn thing." He huffed.
"You never complained when I wanted a ride, darling." Both his parents chuckled, but Kjartan didn't get the joke. Once the saddle and bindings were on, Kjartan and his mother were on the back of Askel. With a running start he lunged into the air, his body moving up and down, side to side just like a serpent. With being on the back of a dragon, the world looked so different.
After a long ride, Kjartan felt the wind grace him as they dived to the ground. His eyes saw a large valley encased by looming mountains. A rather large lake to the east and flat land to the west. A dense forest to the south and a row of mountains to the north. Near the lake there was something large and purple in the flat clearing. The place could be a kingdom.
Once they landed the form became clear. As Father would put it, a large western dragon laid in front of the lake. Scales purple, horns golden and twisted. The flesh of the wings was rather pale. Same went for the belly and under bits of the tale.
"Nephew," Father boomed. "Enjoying a nap?" The purple dragon opened its eyes. Lavender where white would be and red surrounding the slits.
"Uncle, Aunt, cousin, greetings." By process of elimination Kjartan realized who he was of the three. His mouth was left gaped by the pure size and aura the dragon released. "Impressed? Name's Tannin." The dragon said rather stoically. Were all dragons like this or only ones of their family?
As he and his mother dismounted, Kjartan felt something tug on his leathers. A large claw.
"You, my son, won't be joining your mother in the cabin." His father stated. "Me and Tannin talked last night; We're going to train you through the year to be a flyer. This will include body exercise and flight practice. I don't need to explain the latter's purpose, but we'll make you stronger with physical training." Kjartan gave a small cheer. Oh how he soon regretted that.
Hours passed, Kjartan was chased by both of the dragons. What made him feel pathetic was that they were going easy. As in a they didn't exert any real energy. As for him, he collapsed around… fifty times. Humans would have died many times before, but having an awakening body helped. Though it was still hard to not become exhausted. He had the body of both a dragon and human, but he had never properly trained. Today was the first of many that would include him running from Tannin and Askel While they kept more practical training to the grounds, the south part of Scandinavia was for everything else. This included a certain dragon hurling meteor sized balls of fire, cliff racing from a serpent like being trying to eat you, and the occasional diving gods know how deep into the ocean. Between breaks some bits of information were given, whether it be from the dragons or vampire. Eventually, they returned to the hall and Kjartan couldn't help himself from collapsing. Before he passed out, he had one final thought. 'When I thought better, this wasn't what I had in mind!'
The next day broke and Kjartan found himself on the floor. Only now he was laying on a fine fur. With his senses alerting him it was near the time to break his fast, he got up and went to the bathhouse. Each movement nearly made him grimace in pain. The sores were prominent everywhere. Now, he didn't expect to see the physical improvement, he just didn't expect all of the pain. But he figured he couldn't really complain. Life was going to get better, if not more enjoyable at the very least.
In his dream he was above the clouds, flying at incredible speeds. He felt powerful there, more so than now, and he wished to fly like that soon. As for the voice, it had been bothering him ever since he heard it. Funny how you're mind will drift even when two primordial beast are hunting you. While he didn't tell anyone, he had a plan. The voice mentioned him being weak, so his goal was rather simple. Get stronger and talk to the strange… Kjartan didn't no if saying man or woman would fit.
But what then? It also spoke of being damned. Damned if he wasn't better than he was now? A matter both simple and rather overwhelming. Survival of the fittest made it simple, but being a… as his mother put, 'Draconic Dhampir' merely dying was a frightful thought; Powerful, respected, feared, revered, worshiped, hunted, prized, all words describing a dragon. Is there really something that could kill him? As for the vampire in him, mother said being a dhampir made common vampiric weaknesses null. A few lingered, blessed water, places of worship, blessed weapons. At least the more common abused weaknesses were nothing. Light both of gods and the sun, dragon hide and elemental affinity resulted in nothing when attacked by flame. if he could eventually train and master every art his blood would allow him, then he'd most likely be unstoppable… 'No,' he thought. 'Dragons might be immortal, but not invulnerable.' Before more thoughts lingered he dried off and left.
Once he was done in the house, he walked out to a truly terrifying sight. His mother had a razor and shears in hand.
Kjartan shook his head, his mother only nodded. "You wouldn't want unkempt hair getting in the way of training, would you?" She asked.
This went on for quite some time, to the point that Askel had to come out of the hall and pull them back. Right as he thought there was a chance of his hair being safe, his mother tossed him into a seat. Said woman quickly appearing behind the chair and getting to work. He looked to his father for help but Askel only frowned. "Can't bail you out of this one son. She won't be the only one to do it to you. Trust me, they all do it."
"And who is they, dear?" Both Kjartan and Askel had horrified expressions. The ladder's reasoning being because of the incoming scorn, and Kjartan out of pity for the fool.
Dragons have fire and fury, but women have scorn.
As he got his head clean shaven (which he was rather sad about, he loved his hair) Kjartan was lectured about many times Askel had shown such "insolence and arrogance!" His mother's words, not his.
After they broke their fast, a rather large meal, Kjartan and his father walked out of the hall. Askel's body shined with a purple light and he took dragon form. "Alright, to start off lessons you'll glide to the grounds." Kjartan gazed to the general direction, and was confused.
"I can't make that." Kjartan replied. Askel loomed his head rather close to Kjartan, puffs of black flame rising from his maw.
"Do it now or I'll-" Without hesitation Kjartan unfurled his wings and got a running start. Yesterday Kjartan saw what those flames could do. During a brake Kjartan followed his father. The elder hadn't said why they were going off, but still he followed. Curiosity lead him to see a familiar sight. The wolf that caused a jump in his life had appeared again, now broken and bruised. It snarled at the sight of Askel. As it thrashed and cursed, Askel prepared the fire in his belly. Through a choked maw he spoke to the broken dog. "Soon you shall be with the others. It was one thing to come and challenge me, but to attempt to harm my child..." A short moment later and black flames consumed the wolf. When the flames disappeared, there was nothing. No ash. No bone.
Snapping back to the present, Kjartan lunged and dived in the air. It was still difficult. While he got the hang of building momentum by diving, he used it for traveling some of the great distance. But even when he would shoot back up, he was still losing original altitude. Halfway, he met this conclusion since he was a few meters from kissing snow again. With landing being something they "skipped" in the past lessons, he improvised. Bringing his wings in, he balled up. He rolled a bit on the ground but came to a stop. One arm outward on the ground, the other covering his core, a knee bent, and the other out.
That was messy.
Grunting, he got up. Looking around he took a deep breath in and out. If he was able to fly it'd be some short time to reach the grounds, but on the ground, he had an hour. He decided to relax and take a slow walk.
That lasted about five minute up to the point of Kjartan escaping an inferno of black flame.
Hey, at least he found out that with a heat he could get upward momentum.
Once he was in the grounds, heart thumping, he saw his mother. He was about to question how the hell she got there, but remembered his father was fucking dragon. They flew.
As he walked over to her, he notice something. Her left land was giving off a small bit of icy… smoke wasn't the correct word. Mist, one could put it. Yet her hand looked completely fine. 'Great, as if it we needed more cold.' Kjartan was never bothered by temperatures, but seeing ice magic here of all places both seemed idiotic and fitting.
"Kjartan, today we begin-"
"Magic lessons. Fun." While Kjartan wanted to laugh his main focus changed. Having your body encased by ice from the neck and below will do that.
"You're quick to guess. Now, first lesson is to never make someone who is more powerful than you upset."
"Pretty sure that's just a general rule…" He whispered.
"I heard that." His mother said. Kjartan could only release a lighthearted chuckle.
After he thawed, they practiced different magics. Offensive, defensive, and just about everything else and in between. Where a hatchling lacked in skill, they made up for it in raw reserves. Oh, he still struggled. The first problem was getting him to actually perform a spell. It would play in two ways. Kjartan putting hardly anything out or casting something unintentional. After hours, and many internal rants, Askel suggested using a different technique. Father and son sat across from each other, Kjartan's back to the lake.
He did as he was told. After cursing himself out from being without focus-like a dragon should have-he thought only of breathing in and out. Then it was onto his surroundings, yet he was still told to keep his eyes closed. Minutes, perhaps hours passed, yet he felt something. Strange would only begin to describe it. An alien flow of realising something and bringing another in. He felt rather happy and peaceful as this went on. Once he opened his eyes he saw that it was dusk, but that wasn't what caught his attention.
A strange violet aura had surrounded him, the plants around him had strange spirals of energy flowing in and out and connecting to him. Before he lost this, he continued his meditation. Getting an idea, he had the sole thought of melting the snow around him, and bringing life back to the grass beneath him.
Minutes later and his thought became reality.
Afterwards, on the flight back home, he was told what the strange technique was. In the far east they called it senjutsu. To focus on one's life force and the flow of energy in the surroundings and others. The strange art could also be used to manipulate the elements in some strange cases. Shifting an element to a complete other for example. With dragons being truly immortal beast, it was much easier and safer to use and not become corrupted from outside sources. The strange part about it was that in reality this wasn't considered magic, yet had high magical similarities to many... arts.
Askel revealed that in truth he began lessons to help with, in their language, simply put as Life Force Manipulation. LFM to be quick about it. While the named art of the east held some properties of this style, a dragon could make much more use of it. Being able to sacrifice a decimal of an infinite force to create, destroy, manipulate... the list could go on.
But one would still have to keep their internal flow calm and peaceful, or commit to being an evil dragon…
~The rest of the year was strange to say the least.
Each and every day he would break his fast and head to the training grounds. In the first six months he would have to ride or glide there. Now eight and more athletic, he could fly there. At the training grounds, he'd push boulders around to work all the parts of his body. Afterwards he would pull himself up with the small hands on his wings. Tannin made a wooden pullup set. Unlike other supernatural beings, a dragon's wings are a piece of their bodies. Unless they were an eastern dragon, physical care for wings was essential. While most dragons were able to freely fly Kjartan was restricted by being so young and being near human civilization. After recovering his energy, Tannin would chase him around the fjords from the grounds to home. But flew through every fjord they could find.
Next came culture lessons.
This actually fascinated Kjartan. He learned draconic history and culture from both his dragon mentors. A lesson revealed that to summarize the draconic races-dragons, wyverns, amphipteres, drakes, lindwurms, and wyrms- the word dracons is often used. There were still many other lessons. Proper phrases and etiquette, body language. Debate was a subject most dragons engaged in, sometimes ending up in a furious battle, but afterwards being resolved. To say that a dragon is passionate about belief in anything is an understatement.
Other lessons would mostly included life force manipulation. It proved quite useful when deflecting attacks. Turning your arm from one made of flesh then to stone for parrying a tree was good, but hauling an arm of stone proved to be an annoyance.
Next came magic.. After what he dubbed the dragon trials, he'd come home, rest and eat lunch, and give it his all with magic. At first the most he got was a gush of embers. By the eleventh month he could sling fireballs like he was made to. When it came to ice magic he excelled the same. After magic came simple education. Math, science, language, and most importantly history. His favorite subject being of the wars in the south. It was strange knowing that nearly all divine beings that were worshiped or feared existed. He asked more of the east. On the topic Shinto gods and dragons from that part of the land were discussed. Something his mentors seemed to avoid was India and the spirits of Hinduism. Oddly they would brush it off, though one day Tannin gave him a an elusive answer. "You'll learn more when you're powerful enough." Now why the hell did his power matter when it came to basic history?! The world was vast with so many dangers, wasn't knowledge power in this case?
Into the nights came lessons of vampire magical combat. One night after supper he went to the training grounds. Finding his mother standing in the middle of the lake. She urged him to simply walk. Trusting her, he quickly ran across the liquid without disturbing it. From her back sprouted ten large, sickly pale wings. Shaped like a bat's. She turned around.
The once gracious woman was now purely vile. Her features sharp, and eyes glaring with predatory want. Her once silver hair now almost white.
"I am half vampire." She began. Oddly her heart beat was actually there, incredibly slow though. "My magic comes from my father, the original vampire, Cain." Her voice was coarse and filled with hate. But in a flash her wings disappeared and her features were normal. Kjartan was half shocked and half thrilled. With the body of a dragon, and the magical force of a vampire king...vampire magic… oh where to begin?
With shadow manipulation he could make himself invisible. Only for twenty seconds in the beginning. He watched as his mother could turn into a cloud of bats and appear in the air, disappear from sight for minutes. Shadows enveloping her for many minutes. Then came the aspects of vampire physiology. Unlike dragons she could fly without flapping her wings. As she said, "They were extensions of my magic." After serious examination, it was revealed that he didn't have vampiric physiology. Well… not fully. His blood had some vampirism. Both a good and a bad thing. It was uncertain if he could sire underlings without the full condition, but this meant he still avoided pureblood weaknesses, and gained only advantages. Well, holy water wouldn't taste good… Back to the point. This also explained why he enjoyed night flights much more than other hatchlings.
Being a beast commonly associated with death, and the grave being more of a home than a looming thought, cold wouldn't bother him and ice would be another elemental affinity. This added to three. Fire and air from draconic lineage, and cold or ice from vampiric. On the matter of siring any underlings, with the previous statement, he would need to experiment. With human and dragon aspects within him, blood was more of a way to gain burst of power from lesser beings. As for higher creatures such of their world, he could, for a short while, gain a portion of their power.
In terms of combat and other techniques, turning into a swarm of bats worked, but was still flawed. Being inexperienced will do that. Luckily, he could deploy his real wings. As for his other wings, they were almost identical to that of a bat's. Difference being… well no bats have wings the size of his. Flying with them was a bit different, since it was more dependent on thought and will, as real ones just being movement like any other limbs.
For combat training, multiple times she consumed the training grounds in a dense fog, only appearing to fly past him in a blur. Clashing with black claws against whatever he could.
One magic that stuck with him was the Star of Souls. An ancient magic, used by Cain to drain his brother's heavenly life force and transfer it into his own. With the body long gone, the True Sire hunted the soul of Abel. Once found, he unleashed the evil art. A sphere of blue, darkening as one saw into the core, chased Abel for ages. Each angel lost whatever made them holy and powerful, becoming weak and human. Even the devils who wanted to kill Cain for one reason or another fell the same.
When the star caught him, Abel lost every ounce of supernatural force within him. All of this raw power the star gathered traveled back into the brother, asserting Cain as one of the most powerful Kings of Hell. All of that holy and demonic force became his own, certifying his bloodline as one of the most powerful in existence. From Elizabeth, one could guess that only the art passed down, not the gathered power. But with such potential… even she could fight with gods.
And so, Elizabeth Niac, was a bastard child. Half blooded, yet quite powerful and being able to call upon the Soul Star. And for a mere few seconds, so could he. When it came to other vampiric magics he grew slowly. Shadow manipulation being the one somewhat excelled at. What mother dubbed as "One's Nightly Form," appeared lock. What this form was he had little knowledge of, only being told that it would increase his power while in it. Unlike with India and Hinduism, it was unclear because the form had a characteristic to change from user to user.
Today was one like many. With dusk arriving, he was being chased coming home from the southeast. He had kept a slight jog up, a speed humans considered sprinting. He needed the break, but a certain dragon and his son had other intentions.
Behind him landed his little cousin, Bova. The youngest of Tannin's, and the… most headstrong. His appearance was that of his father, save for the missing golden horns. Instead having scaled horns going up and back away from the rest of his skull. "C'mon, I think the old lizard is lost!" Bova boasted. "Can't believe he made us go from northern Europe. The amount of times we he had to switch and carry!"
"I know!" Kjartan groaned in agreement. Yes, they began in Europe. Northeast. From there Tannin and Askel hunted the two hatchlings. Even at twenty five Bova had a reputation for being… Rebellious. Back to the tale at hand.
A few times Kjartan became weak and his cousin would have to hold him by the shoulders during flight. Other times, Kjartan would have to propel himself with great force to push Bova. The reason being was that Bova would choose to argue over flying. It took Kjartan's absolute power to steer the idiot.
Halfway Askel had to head back. With him disappearing in the purple light of a circle, Tannin heard the last instruction's from the elder.
"With fire and fury, have them fly with velocity like no other."
Now they entered a clearing, both hearing a below of power and fire. "BOVA!" And so it seemed the dragon was outraged. "I"LL THRASH YOU INTO HELL!" Before Kjartan could think of anything to defuse the situation, Bova guffawed.
"Please, I'd toss an old drake like you into the ocean no problem! Why the hell am I even here? Some useless training!?" And now the fool earned the comet flying towards him, Tannin was a man… rather dragon of fighting and training. Where his other sons mirrored him, Bova did not.
'Oh this idiot.' With his parting thought Kjartan launched his wings with a powerful downbeat. As he flipped and turned to face home, and sudden gust of heat graced him. The fire of the meteor fireball had somehow given him elevation, even though it merely passed him. It would have been a great moment of discovery if not for the screams of a certain Brave Crocodile. Still he continued his flight home.
Now nearing a cliff opposite to home he landed. Well, what one could call landing. In truth he merely met the ground with a roll. Unlike his first or second shamble, he stood at the end of it. Now he got a minute to lay down and think. 'Damn all, I'm sore. Why the hell did Bova have to cut back into the mediterranean! Cut us off by hours… at least he praised me on the mountain stunt.' A soft sigh crept out. "This life is not so boresome at least. Perhaps…" He had no more words. "Perhaps what? After these days, what am I to do! Yes I am young but I've no passion, no-!" His rants were cut off as Bova shot above him. Trees fell from his wings. Before he could protest and the fool flying so damn close to town, a roar sent him running and then flying.
Now as he was flying home with Tannin chasing him he got an idea. "Tannin, give me some fire."
"What do you mean?"
"Breath some under my wings" In an instant he felt the fire beneath him, along with a rising force. With his face up Kjartan flapped his wings against the flame. In under a minute he was up the mountain side. He saw the snow caped forest that surrounded home. The lessons was over.
Kjartan hid his wings as he entered the hall. "Father, we've returned."
"The kids even learned a thing or two. For once." Tannin was now in a much smaller form. Three meters in height was still impressive. (Roughly ten feet for all my 'Murican readers. I'm just doing metric to sound fancy 'n shit.) Bova laid sprawled near the fire, some black spots marking his hide. His usual height of two meters making him look like a fine kill of a massive beast.
The bold had sprout up. "Learning." He scoffed. "This it torture. Even Kjartan knows it!" Bova called out before collapsing again.
Askel laughed and Tannin groaned. The former got back on track. "They're always learning Tannin." Father called from the second floor.
"Yet they still pull foolish stunts. Passed through a crack in a mountain. Kjartan nearly killed himself trying to escape me."
"Did he live?" Father asked.
Tannin seemed taken aback by this. "Obviously he lived the kids right next to me!" Tannin yelled in frustration.
"Then it was wise. What lesson did you learn today Kjartan?" His father asked.
"Fire can be used gain height, even when it's passing." Father cocked an eyebrow. Kjartan was rather confused as to why.
"If you did, good, but there's another lesson. Primarily relating to what you did with the mountain." Father replied with a sigh at the end. The boy had to think for a moment.
"Use my surroundings?" Kjartan replied.
"The kid's a prodigy, clearly!" Tannin japed. Kjartan took the jab a bit too personally.
"Why are you always mocking me?" He blurted out.
"Respect belongs to the elders and the experienced. I happen to be both. You're only eight while I'm near a hundred. I've faced off against dragons who would kill most my age and won. Fire, claw, fang, choose the weapon and terrain, I'll best you."
"Getting back to the point. How would you say Kjartan is doing?" Tannin looked down at Kjartan. The boy's heart raced. He wanted to hear how he'd improved from all the months of training.
"He still has much to learn. Could easily be bested." His cousin replied
'What?!' Kjartan was shocked at the dragon's words. "I've improved so much though!" He glared at the foolish elder. "I can actually land plus I fly through the forest without even being touched!"
"Calm yourself son!" Father's voice was completely stern. Kjartan turned back and saw Father with a puzzled look. His nose had a little twitch. "Tannin, didn't we cast a cloak?" Kjartan looked back to his uncle and saw that his eyes were wide.
"Damn, the townsfolk probably saw us!" Tannin replied. Kjartan was scared. He had never seen his family react like this.
"Tannin, head back with Bova. This might be an incident."
"I'll teleport back home if that's alright. Maybe search for some useful things." Father nodded and a magic circle appeared beneath Tannin. Kjartan was awe struck by it. So many different patterns formed the lining and in the middle was a massive meteor engulfed with fire. All of it colored purple. The same appeared below the young Bova.
"Kjartan, relax as much as possible and sit by the fire. Your mother may be gone for a bit but I'm sure you can handle yourself." Father told him. "We have some time before they make the climb but I can smell the Earl from up here. I'm going to meet them halfway and try to feed them lies." Father grabbed his furs and left the hall.
The boy sat silently in front of the flames. Every now and then he would glance at the door. Half of the time thinking about flying off again. The other half thinking about the villagers. Why did it matter that they saw him and Tannin flying? Neither of them brought any threat to the humans. Now he had to act differently. Though it wasn't comply alien to him.
Over the past months he experienced numerous changes. Before he was timid and nervous. Never talking back to his parents or any elders. After the training began he changed. Once, while taking a break near the ocean he told his cousin about how he felt all the change. He wanted more in life than what he had been through. The urge to sneak out of the house and fly took over every other night. And the town seemed to call him.
"It's natural when you think about what's happened." Bova explained. "Since your dragon instincts kicked in you'll act more and more like one. Right now the youthful joys are filling you mind. The nest doesn't have the same temptation as the sky. And I'm sure one of these days we'll see the fire in you unleashed. But the body tends to mature after the mind. Give it time cousin."
He did give it time. Every time he tried to breath fire he only got a sore throat and aching chest.
When Father walked through the hall he was surprised to see men from the village with him. All were wrapped in furs and armor. An axe and sword either on the belt or in hand. A few had bows with quivers to match. One man stood out. His hair was a pale blonde and his eyes were a green lit fire. Unlike everyone else in the room-excluding Kjartan-he didn't have facial hair.
"That's your boy, Askel? Why hasn't he greeted his Jarl?" The strange man asked.
"You are not my nor his, Aldon. You are only here because of the sighting." Father's voice was somehow uncaring and serious at the same time. A small smirk on his face.
"It is good to see you as well. May we share the food and warmth?" Aldon asked with his own wry smile.
"My fire is always open to you." Father replied
As they walked past him, violet met green in a short stare off. "He should still be respectful towards his elder." Aldon commented.
'Why should I respect someone like you?' Kjartan thought to himself.
"He's frightened. I'm sure all the children in the village are feeling the same with the talk of a dragon." Father gestured. "How about we discuss this at the table. I'll fetch some mead and meat." The men followed the cue and seated themselves at the table. A lot of them glanced over at Kjartan.
'As if I'd be scared by Tannin!' He thought. Kjartan focused his flow to the men. Putting aside their boasting and cold gazes, many of them were frightened. 'So much for it only being the kids, idiots.'
-Askel
He brought out the old map and gave the men at his table a glance. He didn't need to say anything and they all cleared it. He laid the map across the table, leaving no more room. "If we are to deal with a dragon we must create a battle plan. First we must figure where it comes from from. Then, we have to figure out how to fight it. While Beowulf's tale is great it's also fantasy." He said.
"And what do you think we can do about it Askel?" Aldon questioned.
"Simple. Aim for the wings. Without them the thing won't fly. He'll lose a great advantage over us. We can draw it here," Askel pointed to the middle of the map. "We'll have plenty of open space to take the wings and move around the attacks. For now we need a signal for whenever we see the beast. I have a better view of the area. When I see the beast a bonfire will be lit. We all should meet halfway from my house to the village and move to wherever the dragon is. I suggest you create a fire as well."
"We need specifics if we're to be serious about this." One of Aldon's men said.
"I have a few ideas for weapons. They would have to be set up in the field. We shouldn't waste time by crafting them in the village then hauling them to the spot." Askel replied. While he did have a few schematics and improvement in his mind he wouldn't give them the true weapons. 'The true weapon cannot be used now. I have to wait. Improve it.' "As for the kill, I suggest giving a good bit of honor to the man who delivers a killing blow."
"Plan on being a dragon slayer Askel?" A man asked. He internally smirked.
"Maybe. But I cannot say who will kill it. With so many of us I doubt it'll be a dull fight. Think about what history would say about you. 'The new Beowulf!' The bards will sing of our battle. 'Legend reborn!' A proper way of being remembered!" Now he smirked on the outside, just like all those around him. Yet he did for another reason.
Just like a wicked devil, he used their greed as a weapon. Aldon even gave into the foolish temptation.
They all left the hall with full stomachs and smiles. Boasting about how they'll kill the mighty dragon. Askel cleaned the table and finally rested at the head seat. 'Gods they are annoying. How does Kjartan see appeal in such creatures? Speaking of him… Kjartan!" he called out. The boy came rushing back in the hall.
"Yes father?"
"You'll be waking up earlier and training longer. Not by much but enough to make improvement. When Tannin gets back he and I shall talk about your combat training. Sound good?" Askel was surprised to see smile on the boy's face.
"Definitely." His son replied. The boy rushed back outside and he heard popping of joints and leather against leather. Kjartan was off.
Once Askel had rested in a chair, his enchanted mead horn in hand, he glared into the fire. 'My son, you've excelled well, but the road ahead will be tiresome. The old blood flows through you, a god's blood. Not only will his black flames shroud you, but the cold of his grave shall seal you.'
~Kjartan.
After his late flight and dinner, Kjartan went straight to bed. He didn't act on Father's will. With training about to become more vigorous he would need the rest. He tried to close his eyes and fall asleep but the sky once again called him. Whenever he would begin to motion out of the bed, it felt like he relieved himself of a great pain. When he would slip back under the pain became more intense. Yet it wasn't physical. It was mental. {Go.} The voice kept telling him. {Be free and unleash it all.} He never told anyone about it. He would bare through the painful urge. He had to now of all nights.
Soon Kjartan felt himself launched into a black void. The same as the day he got his wings.
{Damn the fool who did this to me. Damn him into my flames. I'd curse him if I could.} Now the exhausted voice called out… but from where? He heard the voice externally now. {I'll kill them all. Each and every last one who's to blame. You, child, are you ready?} Kjartan could only shake his head. It released another groan. {That bastard thought he had killed me. Me! An Asura! Bah!} It scoffed. {We'll unleash my wrath and envelop all who stand against us!}
He had to speak up. "What… what do you mean by we?" Now the colossal eyes opened in front of him once more.
{From everything I can tell, you and I are one body with two souls. So, why not come to an agreement?}
Kjartan proceeded to make multiple sounds signifying how flabbergasted he was. "Agreement? Two souls?" He violently shook his head. "I think I would have noticed something like this a long time ago!" The voice merely laughed.
{You're half dragon, quarter human and vampire. This life was only awakened when you were seven. Many realizations are to come hatchling. And all things considered you're reacting well.}
"My life has been flipped many times over by the realization of what I am. I go through training that'll kill the greatest of humans, I'm starting to excel at vampire and three elemental magics, oh, and I fly. With that last one being my favorite," he smirked. "I think I should stop being shocked."
{Says the one who freaked out about another soul.}
"IS THAT EVEN NORMAL FOR THE SUPERNATURAL!"
{WELL CONSIDERING I'VE BEEN GONE FOR AGES PERHAPS I WOULDN'T KNOW KID!}
And so into the night the two fought in the black void. Bickering of the fact about even more contradictory statements said by both spirit and draconic dhampir. Even when the conversation covering what this… Asura knew, yelling was a predominant factor.
As for the now dubbed Asura and how he knew anything, things were cryptic. Both round it up to being just "revealed and unsealed." Gaining consciousness might do that. Was it a weak assumption? Most likely. Did they have anything else? Not really, only even more poorly formated statements. This just seemed the one with a somewhat strong hunch. How in the world he was bonded with Kjartan and in his soul had nothing to go off of. And so the night ended.
In the morning he was awake earlier than the when he met the wolf and got his wings. No trace of the sun was in the sky. A fine meal for all to break their fast. The elder dragons (Tannin and Bova) ate outside for convenience. As he walked out of the hall Mother yelled, making sure to remind Tannin to cast a cloak.
Without any warning Tannin grabbed Kjartan with his great claws. He took off without hesitation with Bova following behind. It was strange, since he would usually fly to the training ground. "Listen Kjartan,it's time to talk," Tannin began. "Askel and I talked. We'll push through this year with flight lessons. Next year we start combat. Physical and magical." This was terrible. If Tannin kept pushing him, how was he suppose to live?
"Tannin, I need combat! How the hell am I gonna match you or Bova!" he shouted.
"First off, you'll never match us." The father-son duo said in unison. "Second off we're gonna focus on physical strength today. This past year was a pre-test. Nothing even happened in my mind. Now we can start real training!" Somehow Kjartan saw his cousins smirking. Kjartan on the other hand was flabbergasted.
"You're gonna kill me!" He exclaimed with anger.
"Shut it." Tannin replied. "I know for a fact you were hardly tired yesterday. Now fly!" He felt the mighty grasp disappear. Kjartan wasted no time. Using a set of faint black and scaly translucent eyelids , the wind didn't even bother him. He flipped his form. Diving with a smile. It felt great. The wind breaking from his force, the speed of his fall. Adrenaline filled him. Only a hundred meters from the ground did he launched his wings. The sky took his wings as air brakes. He was left to glide into the area below. Right in front of the lake was where he landed. A short hill ahead of him.
"Look out!" He heard Tannin. It didn't take a second to look up and learn why he gave the warning. A boulder was heading right for him.
He lunged to the right and dodged the rock. "What's your problem Tannin? You could've killed me!"
"Shut it and start moving the rock." Tannin said bluntly.
"What!?"
"You heard me!" Tannin yelled. By human standards you're pretty strong. But my... no, our standards? You're still a hatchling. I might've chosen a mountain, and you might be in human form, but you still have dragon muscles, blood, and organs! Only one thing ain't dragon. Which would be very weird if it was." Tannin and Bova began to laugh. Kjartan was far too focused on the rock to understand.
"Whatever, I'll show you! I'll push this without even putting a fraction of my strength into it!" He called out. He got behind it and placed both hands on it. He took two deep breaths. 'You can do this Kjartan. You are a dragon!' With his last thought Kjartan began the task. At first there was hardly any progress. The rock moved but it was hardly noticeable. He would have to stop and exhale every time he was at his limit. 'Just when I get cocky…'
"You're doing it wrong! Gotta breathe out when you're pushing and in when you stop. Keep it up!" Kjartan did as he was told and continued fruitlessly in pushing the rock. The thing had to be at least octuple his own size in all ways. It was surprising whenever the damn thing would actually move a bit but it still wasn't enough.
"Why am I always doing something like this? I'm just moving a damn rock!"
"You're using just about every muscle to move it, working your entire body. Seems the best way to improve form."
"We couldn't use anything smaller!"
"Smaller is weaker, kid." Kjartan didn't have to look to know his cousin was smirking. He continued to push the rock for two full hours. Taking breaks when he needed to, he made decent progress. The rock was moved from the waterfront to the base of one of the mountains. He would move it from their opposite side. A Hundred meters or so. By the end of it he was exhausted. With what was left of his stamina, Kjartan dragged himself to the edge of the lake.
"Someone, " He began with a hoarse voice. "Warm up the water would ya?" Tannin remained lying down as he tilted his head. The dragon released a very small and weak stream of flame. Before he felt the pleasurable warmth Bova shattered the water with a sharp dive.
"You did good, for a hatchling." Kjartan ignored the jab and pulled himself into the water. It wasn't hot, but it wasn't freezing. Soon his draconic core would keep all temperatures from bothering him. But his undead aspect began nulling the affects.
"So," he started. "What's next? I think I can't do anything else. Don't tell me I gotta do that again."
"Not exactly. I'll leave that pebble as it is for you to move it up the hill tomorrow. For now you should rest. Flying's up next."
"Is there anything we can do that allows me be lazy?"
"Well, I could give you a history lesson. Sound go-"
"Snore, snore, I am snoring!"
"Brat."
And so as he drifted in the middle of the lake, Kjartan sank. Black waters becoming his surroundings, the faint orb of sun light shining a gray beam onto him. As he hit the bottom he burned away the muck. Opting to use LFM, he gave some of his immortal force to the earth. Soon the once slimy mud turned into smooth red marble with faint white streaks. Thirty minutes passed. Pure silence. He'd be fine. If his life became endangered someone would either notice or he'd beach for air. With strong lungs this was a simple dive. He began to think.
Before life was very simple. He'd wake up and do a day's work and enjoy his free time. But there wasn't exactly an abundance of things to do. They had the farm so hunting was rare. Exploring only earned him a lecture and the hall was so boring. Now, only because of that one day, has life changed so much. Training from, now, before dawn until what he hoped dusk. Father taught him about the culture of dragons. That was how he shifted useless uncomfortable sludge into pristine material. It was all in the mind. Speaking of which.
He focused on each word as he thought them.
{Can. You. Hear me?}
{Yeah.} The mental voice said. {I can hear you.} It released a sigh. {What is it?}
{Anything knew? If we're to truly do anything about our… predicament, then we'll need every memory you can gather.} Kjartan was both curious and worried.
{Not much. Some arts I could teach you, fragments of history… and…} Asura took a breath. {What could be my last memories. I battled with a being in the class of gods. My body snaked around the mountains, the rivers ran dry.} Kjartan's attention was on the image and words being one. {I converted what I had enveloped of the world's waters and unleashed a flame. Right as I began my release the memory jumps. My belly was scarred and my left hand lost. Many surrounded me. As I spat my last curse the god struck my with a spear of lightning.}
Before Kjartan could reply, he heard a thud. He rose out of the waters to see the wooden pull up structure was dropped on the beach. He released a loud groan. He got up and used his wings for the work out.
Once more Kjartan dropped as he was exhausted. Surprisingly Tannin made a proper fire in front of him. Somehow it had no wood but burned endlessly.
"Do all dragon fires last this long?"
"No. Only someone of our blood has undying flames. Enjoy it for now because in a minute, you'll be flying in the cold. Make sure to grab all your furs this time."
"That was once, Tannin!" Minutes later Kjartan was running up the hill, his wings stretched out and flapping. It took a second but he was able to set off. With a powerful flapp he flew up the mountains. As was the routine, he was chased by Tannin, Bova with him. The route might've been different each time but destination never changed. An hour passed and they were behind home. That's when they turned out to the sea.
Hours passed with very short brakes. The seaside cliffs were his course. Tannin was there threatening motivation.
Exhausted, they returned to the hall. As he collapsed to the floor by the fire, the last thing he heard was from his father. "Get use to this. The next four years will be like this."
'Four? What?'
-Four Years later.
As he passed through the clouds, he picked up in pace with a smile. Up here he could see the sun, feel the true freedom of flight. He glanced up. The heavens were above him, so close. He could practically touch the air and the gates of Valhalla would open. Then, a boom caught his attention. He flipped up and around to face the source. A large parting in the clouds was made. Tannin emerged from it.
"Get back here you little…"
"Angry cousin? Last I knew you should be out doing me!"
"I swear if you weren't so young and weak, I'd give you a proper thrashing!" The dragon spew a great fireball. Kjartan flapped his wings and smirked.
"I appreciate the boost!" Tannin released a loud half groan half roar. He flipped back around ad shot down. Breaking the clouds, he saw where they were. The mountains surrounding the valley were pebbles. Shifting his gaze to home, Kjartan moved his wings, aligning them above his legs. Now they would allow him a faster descent. He was an arrow flying to an enemy. It took less than thirty seconds to get near home. As he neared he saw a magic circle in the air. A meteor in the middle. With Tannin appearing from it, Kjartan fanned his wings up. The momentum from the dive almost made him crash into the dragon. Shooting right past the massive head, he turned around and hovered with his wings flapping. "What the hell Tannin? I thought Father told you not to use a circle while we raced."
"And I thought you remembered Uncle saying to meet in the valley. Get a move on-" Kjartan immediately made a hard flap. He smirked as he heard his cousin mumble something. Focusing, he thought of his hands coated in a flaming aura. Within a matter of seconds he was launched with flames. Once he was above the valley, he saw his parents resting by the lake together. A black fire by there feet. As he landed, Askel rose and switched into dragon form.
"Today we begin combat. Get the gear I left in the cabin and ready yourself with a apple. We'll-"
"I have an idea." His mother stood up. "Kjartan, as of right now, what would you consider your most powerful skill. Magic, life manipulation, or overall physical work." This actually got him thinking. The past years had been hard but the format was the same. The workouts got longer, the lessons were more detailed, and the reward was almost unnoticeable with his young body. But his reserves…
"Magic." He said with full honesty. While his mother laughter, the demonic eastern dragon only glared at him.
"You are a wicked woman, Elizabeth."
"Yet that's why you love me." Kjartan zoned out while his parents dished out half insults and half flirts.
{So what would you say is my strong suit?}
{Magic. But your lessons with me should give the dragons a surprise.} His tenant said bluntly. Yes they had trained, but very little. Well, they had trained in few arts. Though usually every night would consist of him practicing in the void. Whether it be physical work outs, magical, or a combination, he did it with Asura's guidance.
"He excels at nothing." A cold voice caught his ear. He turned to see Bova above the water, his flaps creating weak waves, a wide smirk on his face.
"Bova… what the hell are you saying?" He began. "I admit... compared to everyone who surrounds me, I might aswell be human. But…" His heart began to race, the rhythm roaring in his ear. "I have never passed an opportunity to train. Not once have I shirked away my routine. That deserves some credit." He could feel his core burn, his hands became shaky fist.
"Yes, you have trained. But you'd die in a real fight." Bova replied, dry in voice, tone, and attitude. Tannin began his way towards him and Askel was already puffing black fame. Yet he continued. "I say this to be honest. You're parents are still sheltering you. Hell, I bet an ulfhedinn would kill you."
Before anyone else could move, Kjartan launched into the air.
~Bova.
His cousin came with a storm covering him. He could only grab the boy's fist. He felt something alien. A strange violet flame surrounding him began to burn his hide. He was both happy for his cousin and scared at the thought of his own skin burning. 'Just what I wanted.' His knee buried into Kjartan's abdomen and the boy flew up. With a powerful down beat he followed, observing the child. 'This flame,' He thought. 'Just what is it? My hide shouldn't burn, and his flame has only been the norm when casting.' Still they fought.
It was a back and forth, the two dealing blows to the other. As the fight went on the flames gained a black trim. Now it became too dangerous for Bova. He slung fireballs at the boy. His attacks would only be shaken off. Literally, the kid would just thrash around and he'd be back at it. Bova's stomach became dark from scorch marks, his maw staying close to stay away any fatal attacks.
Kjartan was a ball of fire and fury. His eyes two burning violet orbs, colored contrail like flames bleeding out. His surrounding flames making him look like a meteor.
Perhaps an hour had passed and now the elders engaged. Kjartan was a roaring ball of half black half purple flame. Tannin carried his son away into the forest, scolding him along the way. One could hear the battle by the lake still going on. Askel was trying to physically handle the wild child and Elizabeth began warding the child off. "Why, why did you start that? Now… he has…" His father asked.
"Finally found his fire?" He replied with a smirk. "Besides, why didn't you intervene sooner? He was starting to really harm me?" Still his shoulders were black, his hide should've healed by now!
"From what I gathered from the atmosphere me and the others thought it be a punishment for you to be thrashed by him. But the moment his body became coated in flames, we were frozen."
Bova scoffed. "By a little kid?" His father laughed as well.
"By a little kid with vampiric flames and Vritra's!" Now Bova's legs stopped, Tannin dragging him until he noticed. "Bova?"
He ran his good hand over the marks. His heart thumping. 'No,' he thought. 'How…' he shook his head. "I… I could've been…" Then it hit him. What would happen if Cain's magic took him? Dragons, born from masses of energy within the universe... "He's a dragonslayer." Now Tannin was silent, his lavender eyes looking back. Bova fell to the ground as his father ran back.
~(Author's Note: Acknowledgments, Explanations, other things. )
Well… now that was interesting. Finally I'll be able to edit and submit the start of this.
First I must admit something. This story draws similarities from a rather popular fanfic for HDXD called, 'Holy Inferno Dragon' by author G1Splicer. Similarities follow like this;
Half dragon mc.
Dragon father
Unique flame.
Sacred gear with ancestor within it. (Sorry if that's a spoiler, I thought I did a good bit of foreshadowing.)
And that's it. No focus on aura, bonds, scale arrays, and NO Tartarus. (Ok there's one more thing but I can't say, real spoiler there. But for the mentioned ones, they won't make any appearance.) If others appear, well shit then I done fucked up.
I say this to all of you, G1Splicer especially if he/she reads this, my intention is not to copy off a popular story. And I am truly sorry if it comes off like that. It wasn't and still is not my intention while writing them. I'm simply here to have fun in writing a story. Honestly I'm a little disappointed with this chapter. This is my third or fourth rewrite and it still feels like it is, to be blunt, shit. For all I know 10k+ words is nothing. I dunno. I could have a terrible, messy shitstorm on my hands because of my lack of writing experience. I do not know. That's why I encourage all of you who review to be as blunt as possible. If you think this is the equivalent of the nightmare of literature that was Twilight then say so. I can't say the opposite because it wouldn't be true.
Moving on, explanations.
If anyone is unclear, Kjartan is the grandson of Vritra (father's side) and Cain (mother's side.) Elizabeth was a bastard, born from a human mother. That is how Kjartan is still able to hold a sacred gear. Speaking of which, I will not say which of the seven gears he has. Where I got the number… I'm pretty sure it was somewhere on the wiki that there were seven and Saji has four towards the end of the LNs. Oh and don't worry, I know Blaze Black Fire is suppose to have black flames. Kjartan's flames are colored because it mixed with the Star of Souls magic. Now I know with his bloodline, and maybe some might think he's OP right now. Though let's remember a certain Satan can spin with a wand and blow up a country two times over. But don't worry, Bova was bullshitting. Kjartan could kill packs and only gain a slight sweat… if he could sweat that is.
Now as to how he was able to harm Bova, who has years of experience over his older cousin (technically)... well, the flame wasn't the only thing. If any of you know of a certain power of dragons you'll know how Kjartan was able to act like that.
Ok, enough filibustering. Updates don't have dates or structure. Tonight I might be able to upload another chap. Depends if I just want to copy paste and edit some of the old versions or just flush stuff out. Besides that, maybe once every two weeks, possibly once a month. For length, I simply write and when I feel it's good, I'll stop.
As for the plot I have three things to say. This is AU. The more I think it over, it could be many chapters before I reach the beginning of canon. Got gears to steal and things to fuck up along the way people! Oh, and Kjartan and the other OCs WILL NOT BE DEVILS!
~Nerdy out. (Sorry for any fuck ups in spelling and grammar.)
