Rynth raised his claw, ready to slash and counter Kyren. The brunette was hung in mid air, hoisting his sword up from waist level. Time seemed to move in slow motion as the two neared.
As the teen swung Elynt down at the dragon, Rynth blocked the hit by catching the sword with his paws. Kyren held onto the blade and fought to keep himself in the air. The fire breather stifled a laugh at the human's failed attack. Rynth spun around swiftly, tossing the cloak wearer to the ground far away.
Kyren cried out as he made contact with the rough ground. After a few moments, he slowly propped himself on an elbow and groaned to himself, his fists clenched. Rynth had tossed Elynt into the ground to his right, getting it stuck in the earth.
The teen growled. He pulled two daggers from the sheaths on his waist, dashing like a ninja before shooting them in a cross motion.
Rynth stumbled backwards, his head thrown back. Kyren stopped and watched the dragon. The creature began to chuckle, returning his head to face the human before removing the daggers like they were nothing. Rynth threw the daggers back at the teen, one missing and the other hitting his left shoulder.
Kyren glanced to his wounded arm and gave a weak smile as he turned back to the dragon. He tried to remove the small sword, but it only budged a bit. D*mn...
Blood trickled from the wound, tainting his gray cloak. He slowly bent down to pick up the missed blade. With his right hand, he took a quick aim and nailed Rynth in his right leg. "That evens the playing field." He laughed weakly before attempting to take the dagger out of his shoulder again.
The dragon realized that he would have a disadvantage on the ground, so he pumped his wings and propelled himself into the air. Kyren watched on with eyes filled with anger. First he wounds me so I will have trouble fighting, now, he takes to the skies?
"Get down here. You know that one of us will die here, why don't you make it a fair fight? Whoever wins would have really won."
Rynth alighted to the ground below, causing a small quake. He let out a loud roar, probably just for intimidation.
Kyren shifted his sight on his sword that was now stuck in the ground. I need to retrieve it. It's the only weapon that can kill this beast.
He held his hurt shoulder and trekked closer to the dragon, wincing when his arm stung from the wound. Rynth shot his gaze back at Kyren from his leg and growled. He began to glide over the ground, his leg aching. The brunette started to sprint to the sword, but Rynth outstretched his arm and took a swing at him. The teen yelled when he was hit and tumbled to the ground, rolling farther from the blade.
The beast stomped over towards the sword, dragging his wounded leg, and grabbed it. He began to pick his teeth with the blade, as if to taunt the half conscious human. Kyren gritted his teeth, his eyes still shut from the impact. He couldn't lose like this, not after everything that he-and the other refugees-had gone through!
Elynt had called him-a teenager-to be its wielder. Maybe it was because of his bravery, his courage during the hardest times of his life. He had killed the king; the one that should have already died long ago. He avenged his fallen friends, as well as satisfy his craving to get revenge on Wyrsil. Maybe that's why it chose him: For his strong sense of justice and strength to lead others.
Kyren felt something spark inside of him. He rose up, ignoring the burning sensation in his shoulder, and in a blink of an eye, was next to the sword, removing it from its seal.
Rynth froze in shock. When did he get there?
The teen walked closer to the beast, raising the Blade of Beginnings. "For those whom I must protect, I can not lose!"
You back up, shoulders hunched and mouth open in a warning snarl. He was fast, faster than a human should be (couldbewouldbe). Your leg was aching, the wound sending a burning sensation up said limb and maybe the daggers had had poison in them or he'd just thrown the dagger into a bundle of nerves or something because a human weapon shouldn't hurt this much and ow ow ow.
The fins on the side of your face contract slightly, the scarred side of one of them giving a slight twinge of pain. You know your eyes are purple, a blazing shade of the color, you know without having to look in a mirror because you've never felt angrier in your entire life. So so so angry and you know enough about your race that you know purple eyes mean angry or miserable or frustrated and yellow meant calm or content or happy. You don't think your eyes have been anything but purple for a very very long time and you don't know how to feel about this.
He's bleeding from his shoulder, the dagger you had thrown earlier with a lucky swing of your giant paw was still imbedded deep in the wound. You hope he ends up losing that arm, you hope it's so deep inside his shoulder it's in his bone and he has to have it removed.
If you win, that is, but honestly you're kind of worried but not really it's only because of that stupid stupid sword he has and oh, he's rushing at you and you inhale before letting out a bout of purple tinted fire. You don't know how much longer you can keep fire breathing, it's starting to hurt more and more with each stream of fire. You haven't done this in so so long.
He slashes at your shoulder and oh, oh god that burns. It's burning it's burning and you're panicking, panicking, panicking.
You rear backwards, wings flailing and he looks surprised and so are you but it burns burns burns. You slam onto the ground with your front paws and the ground sort've shakes and your body shakes and your wings flail and you're snarling and he falls backwards as you jump at him and look at that. He's down down down.
You keep him pinned down with one paw, his hand is still gripped around that evil evil sword but your well placed claws are keeping him from stabbing you and isn't that just great. You open your maw, teeth glinting as you grin (or as much as you can grin) down at him and watch as he glares and struggles uselessly. It's funny, you think, as he tries to snarl and flail and you can see him start to panic as you press down harder. His shades are crooked on his face and you watch as he tries to lift his arm to hurt you and stab you and defeat you and kill you and no no no. He can't do that no more. You're gonna kill him first.
You lift up your other paw, claws flexing as you sneer down at his struggling form and you're about to tear that defiant look right off his human face when you pause. You're not sure what makes you stop and you're confused for a moment. Why aren't you hurting him? He was gonna hurt you, you had to kill him before he killed you!
You huff and lift the paw not holding him down, aiming for his face only to stop once more. You're about to just blow a stream of fire at him when you feel your heart stop. No. It couldn't be.
As he struggles and curses at you, you nudge away his shades with a long claw, feeling a cold settle inside of you. Blue blue blue eyes. Blue eyes. No no no, blue. Blue like a clear summer sky, a warm and comforting blue. A wonderful blue you oh so missed. Why why why now no no no. You lean down and sniff his face even as he tries to bite you in a desperate attempt. You snort in surprise, trembling.
He smells like the royal family. It's a faint and distant smell, you only now recognize it due to the amount of blood covering the boy. But that's not possible, that shouldn't be possible!
In your moment of shock, he manages to free himself and you can do nothing as he thrusts his sword into your chest. You feel the burn and you see dots dancing in your vision as you fall back. He stumbles to his feet, looking relieved and cautious as you lay on your back, eyes never straying from him.
His eyes drop to the sword sticking out of your chest and you twitch it hurts and there's blood pouring from your chest and oh, oh how it hurts. You think he expects you to jump up and fight him again, to brush off the wound and attack. You know you can't. Or rather, you know you won't. You're feeling tired and you promised. You promised and you can't hurt him. Can't hurt someone of your human mother's bloodline; a child resembling your little blue boy so much so that it makes you want to close your eyes because it hurts to look at him and remember your failure.
It's silent and you hear the sound of burning wood, you destroyed the camps completely. You think this might've been his home and you feel sad and guilty. You've turned his home into nothing but rubble and ashes. What a protector you turned out to be. You're nothing but a miserable failure.
You open your eyes when you feel the sword being pulled out of your chest, not having realized that you'd closed them in the first place. He freezes and looks down at you as you stare up at him.
"How the mighty have fallen," he murmurs and you look away. You feel darkness creeping up at you and feel your body spasm as the sword is pulled out with a sickening wet sound. Your blood, darker than a human's, almost black, drops down from the sword's fine edge. He goes to turn away and you panic because you want to see his eyes again, once more, just once more, to remind yourself that you haven't failed the royal family completely yet. You feel your heart jump. You haven't failed completely. The royal bloodline lives on. In this boy. This wonderful boy with wonderful eyes.
You stretch your wing out, wincing due to how it was folded up uncomfortably beneath you. The tip of you wing wraps around his ankle and he stops, swinging around to glare at you and perhaps finish the job of killing you, but you cut him off as you immediately retract your wing.
"My little blue boy."
Your voice is quiet and raspy, sounding horrible and you cough and cough, eyes closing after catching a glimpse of wide blue eyes. You think you feel him touch your neck and chest frantically, you think you hear him rambling about something, you think you feel warm arms wrap around your neck and you think that maybe... Maybe you feel warm tears trailing down from your face.
You're tired and do nothing but place a heavy paw on his back, eyes peering open despite how heavy you feel.
"Dragon... your eyes... They're yellow."
You sleep.
"Father! Can you please tell me the story of the dragon again!"
"Of course I will. It used to be my favorite story when I was a kid growing up as well."
"Really?"
"But of course! That story has been passed down in our family for generations. Did you know it's a true tale?"
"Is it really, father? But I thought dragons were mean and evil! And the other boys from school say dragons aren't real..."
"No, son. This dragon was wonderful and he was real. Your great great great grandfather, knew the dragon personally."
"Really?!"
"Yes. He was a prince and lived in a big big castle in Wyrsil where the little dragon kept him company. But he was a sickly prince and was sent here to get better. He grew to love this small village and decided to stay."
"Then what happened to the dragon father?"
"I don't know. Perhaps he went back to his own family. Do you want to know the silliest thing about this dragon?"
"What?"
"He would call your great great great grandfather 'little blue boy'."
"Why would he do that?"
"Your great great great grandfather had blue eyes, something the dragon apparently liked."
"Blue eyes like mine, father?"
"Yes, son, exactly like yours."
The hero Kyren was crowned the first king of Serendys, which was built over Wyrsil. For many years, he ruled over as king, and refused to abide to the laws Corval had set. He started a time of peace, one that lasted hundreds of years, until-
"Sire! Sire!"
The king of the Aether, Notch, glanced over to the assistant. "What news do you have for me?"
Said assistant panted before gasping out his words, "Hero-Herobrine...is active."
Notch sprung up from his throne, eyes as wide as saucers. "What is he doing?"
"I'm afraid it is something bad." The assistant said, losing eye contact as the king paced around the throne room.
Notch suddenly stopped. "I need to go get Steve..."
(A/N's)
HerHiddenSecret: My part took longer than it should've. I blame life.
SSJ2BlazeSG: I think this was good overall, oh, and I need to say this now: THERE WILL BE YOUTUBERS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER, I PROMISE!