Chapter Two: A Tainted Bloodline

Blackthorn City, 1978

A large crowd had amassed around the area as the dragon tamers prepared themselves for the biggest battle of the week. The tribe leader's eldest son stood on one side of the arena, whilst his brother, stood on the opposite. It was the battle between two brothers – Edward and Henry Blackthorn. The crowd roared and held their goblets high in the air, declaring their support for the warriors.

"What's going on, grandfather?" Jacob said tugging the sleeves of an elderly man seated beside him. The man turned his head and glanced down. There was a vertical scar on the right side of lip, obtained during a battle with a fellow tamer. It was the mark of victory and also one of a survivor. Those who lost fights perished in the arena. The dead were not buried, but burned, their ashes contained in jars within the Dragon Den shrine.

"Your father and his brother will fight for ownership of the Blackthorn clan. Your uncle wishes to control the clan despite the council's wishes that your father inherits the right to rule over us all." He placed a hand on his grandson's shoulder then drew his attention to a group of six men seated on a high balcony overlooking the arena. "The council of Dragon Tamers. They are retired warriors, but their minds are as sharp as ever. They decide who becomes a clan leader, and whose family inherits the right to rule."

A few men seated around them rose their feet to call out the names of the warriors in the arena. Some wine splashed over Jacob's face. He glared up at the man but received no response. Using the back of his right hand, he cleared of the wine off his face then turned back to the arena. Both tamers were dressed in the traditional black cape of the Blackthorn people with their loyal Dragonites standing behind them.

Most people in the arena had risen to their feet. "Stand up, boy," his grandfather said.

Jacob climbed to his feet. He was fortunate enough to be at the very front, so he didn't have to worry about anyone blocking his view. He rested his arms on the railings and watched as one of the council leaders raised a golden horn. The sound reverberated throughout the arena. Silence was immediate. One of the council tamers, a man called Dragon, stepped forward.

"These two brave men will do battle for the right to rule the mighty Blackthorn Clan! Edward Blackthorn will fight against his brother, Henry Blackthorn! Please give these brave warriors a round of applause!"

The sound of clapping hands was deafening; every single tamer in the coliseum clapped. It soon died down as the council tamer called for silence once more. "Let the fight begin!" The two Dragonites standing on either side roared up at the sky and stretched their wings, emitting a flame of purple from their mouths.

"Dragonite!" Henry called, pointing his finger forward at Edward. "Use Dragon Pulse!"

Edward's response was immediate. "Dragonite, use Dragon Tail!" One Dragonite emitted a purple beam while the other dashed forward, narrowly avoiding the opponent's attack. Edward's Dragonite struck the younger one in the face, throwing it aside into the bloodstained sand. Before the young Dragonite could stand, he was attacked again, this time receiving a strike in the face. The young Dragonite struggled to stand, bleeding profusely from his wounds.

"Kill him now!"

"Tear him apart!"

A cold chill raced down the boy's spine, as the chants for blood intensified, almost deafening him. To them, this was their idea of entertainment – watching two tamers fight each other for a chance to lead. His father had often warned him these battles were bloody, but he hadn't expected an actual fight to the death. It was a barbaric sport which was created simply to satisfy the bloodlust of the Blackthorn tamers.

He looked away as the old Dragonite bit down into the other one's neck, tearing a chunk of meat and casting it aside like it were nothing but a ragdoll. Blood spilled out of the wound, spewing out onto the ground. The young Dragonite lay there, struggling to stand, but the battle was well and truly over. His uncle fell to his knees and wept at the sight of his dying Dragonite.

More spine-tingling roars filled the crowd. The horn was blown and there was silence once more. The council tamer stood up. "And victory goes to Edward Blackthorn, the rightful heir to the clan! As the victor, you will feast upon the feast tonight on the blood and meat of the fallen Dragonite and your strength and wisdom will increase!" He then turned his gaze towards the defeated Henry. "As for the fallen Dragonite's owner, you shall be condemned to death for your inferiority!"

"He's going to be killed?" Jacob replied. Death wasn't uncommon within the clan – in fact, if someone hadn't died within a week, it would become local news. Tamers were often sparring in the streets, and sometimes the injuries sustained were so great, many tamers died as a result. He wasn't concerned about the deaths of other families, but to witness his own uncle dying… That was a little too much.

"He has proven by losing that he is unfit to be a warrior of the Blackthorn Clan." His grandfather brought his grandson's attention to an altar before the council leaders. It was white and sculptured in the shape of a Dragonite.

"Bring the boy to the altar!"

Guards emerged from the ground floor of the coliseum and moved towards the weeping Henry. He tried to fight them off, but he was quickly overwhelmed and taken away inside. A few moments later he reappeared, his arms and legs bound together by a thick coarse rope. The guardsmen lifted him up and carried him over to the altar then put him down.

"Edward Blackthorn, please join us on stage!" the man announced, motioning for the new clan leader to come up. He nodded and strolled towards the gates on the lower level and reappeared moments afterwards, his Dragonite close behind him. "You have won, and you will be the one to take your trophy as proof of your victory. Wield this dagger and cut out his heart!" He handed the victor a golden encrusted dagger.

Edward took it and approached his brother, holding the blade before his head. He stood there for a few moments staring down at Henry strapped down on the altar, before plunging it down into his chest. A bloodcurdling scream filled the air and the crowd only lusted for more. The leader stabbed him again and again, each stab prompting a scream from the dying boy. He then dug a hand into the wound, clasping a still beating heart in his hands. He cut it out and held it high in the air for all tamers to see.

And that's when Jacob blacked out.

.

Blackthorn City, 1988

"Use Dragon Tail, Dragonite!" Jacob issued, pointing towards the glass dummy Dragonite positioned near the far wall. His Dragonite charged forward, made a running leap into the air, then crashed down, slamming his tail into the dummy. The dummy shattered into pieces, shards of glass flying in all directions.

Glass dummies weren't encouraged to use, but Jacob had come to believe it would strengthen his Dragonite. What point was there in fighting something made of cloth? Only simpering cowards were afraid of blood. He ordered his Dragonite to attack another glass dummy and his companion happily obliged, slamming his tail into it.

The past years had not been so kind. The honeymoon period was now over. He had once believed his father being the clan leader would make things so much better, but that was a lie. It had only brought more problems. There were whisperings among the people outside their family they believed Henry would've been a better leader.

Those that had openly spoken out against their family's right to rule were executed in the streets. At first, it had been difficult to watch, but after a few weeks of witnessing executions, Jacob had invited himself to join in the hunt. His father disapproved of it, wanting nothing but the days of pointless bloodshed to be over, but the people were angry.

"This fighting will cease today!" Edward said, pointing at a chair. "Sit!"

Jacob sat down. "You're willing to stand by and allow these traitors to mock our name?"

"And what will fighting do? It will only make matters worse!" Edward replied. He moved over to a nearby table then picked up what appeared to be a leather strap. Jacob sank back in his chair, immediately recognizing it to be the tool used discipline. "We will rule the clan, but not by force! There will be peace! The days of in-fighting among our people will end today! Stand up and place your hands on the table."

Jacob knew better than to argue against his father. The man might be trying to make peace, but there was a part of him that still longed for cruelty even though he would never admit it. He placed his hands on the table and braced himself for what was to come next – a hard smack across the finger tips.

"My brother's wife's family started this uprising, but we can end it. Lelianna has agreed to a truce – she too is tired of the fighting."

"And how do you propose we end it then?"

"Marriage."

Rolling his eyes, Jacob gave his father a sceptical look. "You can't marry – you already have a wife."

For the first time in weeks, his father smiled. "But you can. You are of marriageable age now – you will marry my brother's wife's first daughter of a previous marriage, Tahlia. She has just turned fifteen years of age, and you are sixteen. This arranged marriage will show the people that we have resolved our conflict and we will work together to bring peace to Blackthorn," his father explained.

Jacob couldn't believe what he was hearing. His father's response to end conflict was to sell off his only son to the people who conspired against his family? "Is that what you think of me? Just a tool for you to use and discard whenever you wish? You were the one who brought this war upon us by killing your brother – and instead of fighting, you take the easy way out and sell me off?"

His words prompted his father to bring down the leather strap across his fingers. He bit down hard on his lower lip to prevent himself from yelling out, but it didn't stop the tears brimming. Still, he wasn't going to give his father the satisfaction of knowing that he was in pain. "I will not marry her," he hissed.

Another smack. "You will obey me. I am the clan leader, and I am your father. You will obey my orders." His fingers were numb from the pain, but still he did not yell out. "You will marry Tahlia, she will have your children, and our families will be united. There will be peace. We can put this bloody era behind us and move forwards."

"And then what? By doing nothing we allow ourselves to become weak and easy prey for our enemies. If you hold this position of power, the threats will never stop."

"So your answer is to fight fire with fire? No. I know what the future brings should we continue along leaving a bloody path of destruction – that is not the future I want my grandchildren to grow up in," his father replied. "The visions I have – it is of a peaceful world where people and pokémon live in harmony with each other. Battles do not result in death. Children are able to walk freely without fear of danger."

His father often spoke about knowing what was in store for them. Many scoffed at him, but his father was never wrong. He already knew he was going to become the clan leader, just as he knew a truce would be formed. Jacob often wondered why he couldn't see what was to come, but then he figured he was better off not knowing – what fun would there be living if you already knew how it was going to end?

"When I die, you will inherit the right to rule," Edward said, lowering the belt. "Our people will look to you as a leader – I regret that I did not act sooner… But I don't want my mistakes to become yours. I am giving you the chance now to help me rebuild a clan you will someday lead. We will always have those who oppose us, but if we work together, we can overcome any obstacle."

His father sounded genuine, and he could see the regret on his face. A better world was something he passionately believed in. It was also something he had claimed to see in his visions, and his father would not lie. "What does mother think of this?"

"Your mother is… ill, but she believes it is our best hope."

Aside from deaths caused by battles, many tamers fell ill to a virus known as pokérus. Pokérus wasn't harmful for pokémon – in fact, it made them stronger for a short period of time, but the effects on humans were deadly. Pokérus was incredibly hard to detect – a trainer would not notice if their pokémon had fallen ill unless they were taken to a hospital for pokémon. If a human had been bitten by an infected pokémon, they would show signs of a common cold before their condition would rapidly deteriorate.

His mother had unfortunately become victim of the virus. It started with a headache and a lingering cough, then the hallucinations, nosebleeds and general madness would begin. Those that had fallen ill were killed, but Edward couldn't bring himself to kill his wife though it would be the wisest action to take.

"For the sake of keeping our family in together, I ask you to please do as I ask and marry Tahlia," his father spoke in a hushed tone, almost as if his mind was somewhere else.

It would be so easy to say no, to rebel against his father's wishes as he had done many times before, but for the sake of his mother, he would agree. "Fine." He rose to his feet and winced as pain shot up his arms but said nothing further. Perhaps there was a brighter future after all.

.

Blackthorn City, 1992

A cloud of smoke rose up into the air coming from the main part of the city. Screams could be heard from miles, and high up in the air, was the source of the destruction: a rogue Dragonite. The dragon was destroying all buildings in sight. Some became shrouded in fire, whilst others simply crumbled. Bodies of the fallen filled the streets, and the Murkrow had come to feast on the flesh.

"We need to stop the Dragonite at once before more is lost!" Edward said. He then turned to his friend, a middle aged-man with a fondness for ice-type pokémon and nodded. "You have the advantage."

Pryce nodded. "I will do my best."

"I'm coming too," Jacob announced. Edward called out to him, but Jacob ignored him. This was a chance to prove that he could save their people. Saving their people from the rogue Dragonite would prove to everyone that he could lead the clan when his father passed onto the next life. Before Edward could stop him, Jacob hurried after Pryce.

"Don't be a fool, boy! You can't stop this dragon!"

"My father isn't the only one who has a special gift," Jacob replied. He discovered it by surprise during a training session one morning. Their training session had become so rough that his Dragonite had injured his wing. Jacob too felt it – at first he thought it was because he had a tight bond with his partner, but then he discovered through trial and error, that he could read the thoughts and control the minds of dragons.

What a dragon felt, he could feel if he concentrated hard enough. Discovering this ability had allowed him to easily gain the upper hand on his opponents. It could be considered cheating, but Jacob justified his actions by simply telling himself that weak trainers did not deserve to win battles. Of course, no one else knew about this. If the people found out, he'd never become a clan leader.

Ignoring Pryce's comments, Jacob pushed past him, venturing towards the area the rogue Dragonite was in. The Dragonite was no longer in the air now, but on the ground, rampaging. Jacob moved closer, closing his eyes, focusing his mind on the Dragonite's. The Dragonite was enraged – something had caused it to behave in a hostile manner. But what exactly?

You have nothing to fear.

A beam of purple shot past them and cased another building to crumble. Pryce swore. "I know you are skilled, but you can't tame this beast! The Dragonite needs to be put down!"

The Dragonite roared, and smashed his tail into the ground, creating mini shockwaves. The physical power this dragon had was astonishing, and his mind's barrier was just as powerful. He tried again. Flashes of the Dragonite's life appeared in his mind and played for him like a movie. He caught a brief glimpse of a tamer and a few other Dragonites, but then he could feel the Dragonite fighting for control again.

He caught a glimpse of Pryce's expression in the corner of his eye – shock he expected to see, but not fear. "Stop whatever it is that you're doing, Jacob," Pryce said. "It's not natural."

Jacob ignored him. Couldn't the man see this was the easiest way to resolve the problem? There'd be no fighting – wasn't that what his father wanted? A world of peace? He tried a third time to take back control of the Dragonite's mind. Sharp pain exploded in his mind, but he didn't relinquish his hold. He had the Dragonite. Now if only he could…

He found himself pushed to the ground breaking his control over the Dragonite once more. The Dragonite resumed its relentless assault on the city, seeming more aggressive than a few moments earlier. Jacob picked himself up then glared up at Pryce. "I had it under control!" he snapped.

"You're enslaving the dragon against its will!"

"To save us all!"

Pryce shook his head. "What you can do… does your father know?"

Jacob didn't answer. No, his father did not know. He was smart enough not to put his ability to good use around his father, but now that Pryce knew… "You can't tell him. He'll cast me out."

"Your father wants peace and you rebel against that by enslaving minds of dragons to do your bidding."

Jacob growled. "I am not enslaving minds! I can control them for a brief period! If you just let me finish, then I can calm this Dragonite down, and there will be peace again!" he retorted. There was silence. Jacob forced a bitter laugh. "I get it now. My father doesn't trust me to do the right thing and that's why he sent word for you to come here and help."

It was taking all his willpower not to direct his anger at Pryce. His father had said an outsider of the clan to help with their problems. Pryce wasn't one of them! He wasn't even a dragon-type tamer! He was an enemy, a threat to dragons! Pryce had come here to take glory for himself. It was probably some part of scheme of his father's to form alliances and win trust from neighbouring cities.

"I won't let some nobody tarnish what my family helped create!"

Pryce's expression hardened. "I have come here to help you."

"My father said there'd always be those who oppose us… you might pretend to be a friend now, but you might betray us too for power, and don't deny it. We are the most powerful family in this region, the original city of dragon tamers, and you have the power to take that away from us." Battles against ice-type specialists were short-lived.

"You have nothing that I do not already have. I will promise not to speak a word of this to your father if you let me handle this situation." Pryce gestured towards the Dragonite who was now coming towards them. "That Dragonite clearly wants to kill – look at how many bodies now line the streets."

Pryce was correct. Too many had died. More than half of the clan's population were rotting on the streets, an easy meal for the Murkrows. Pryce could easily do the job – he could freeze the Dragonite in its tracks and end this… but he couldn't agree. This was supposed to be the clan he inherited. If he could not save them, then he would not be taken seriously as a leader.

He dropped a hand to the belt around his waist, resting it on his only pokémon, his black-scaled Dragonite. For some reason, his Dragonite had been born with different a shade of scales, making him a prime target for mockery from other Dragonites. His Dragonite was bigger than others though thanks to long hours of training. "No. This is my fight. Not yours."

"You can't hope to defeat me, Jacob. Don't waste your time."

"I might not be able to defeat you in a fair duel… but who said anything about fairness?" Without warning, Jacob tackled Pryce to the ground then straddled him. Pryce struggled beneath him, trying to shove him off, but Jacob held him down. "I would rather die than allow our clan leadership to fall into the wrong hands."

"You don't understand. There's more at stake here than clan politics, and I-"

Jacob punched him in the face, silencing his protests. His Dragonite gave a grunt of approval. Rising to his feet, Jacob turned back to the rogue Dragonite, and once more focused his attention on controlling its mind. The Dragonite opened its attack to direct a beam at them, but he managed to take control at the right moment, directing the attack elsewhere.

Leave.

The anger in the creature's eyes dimmed, its rage slowly subsiding. A part of its mind was still trying to regain control, but it was weakening. The sharp pain in his head returned, and he felt the trickle of blood run out of his nose and onto his lips, as he held on to his control. A surprised grunt escaped him as he fell to the ground, exhausted. He tried to keep his eyes open, but blackness consumed him.

Blackthorn City, 1992

"You can't do this to me!" Jacob raged. "I saved this city! I turned the Dragonite around!"

"Do not speak!" Jacob fell silent. Never had he seen his father so angry before. His father was not the one to neither throw a tantrum nor shout, so this was a surprise for him. "You disobeyed me. You broke a law. Your actions have ruined whatever chance we had for peace here." He paused for a moment then brought a hand to his right ear. "Listen. Do you hear it? The protests of our people? They have labelled you a danger to our way of life."

He could hear them outside the Dragon Den's shrine demanding punishment for breaking a law. Some even blamed him for the Dragonite's attack seeing as he was the only one there besides Pryce during the latter stages of the fight. "I didn't order the attack on the city. I wouldn't do that."

"I know you would never willingly endanger us, but the people of this city do not agree." His father turned around, a look of disappointment on his face. That hurt more than an actual smack across the fingers. "Why didn't you tell me you could control the minds of dragons?"

"I… I didn't want you to know."

Edward ran a hand through the little hair he had left. "The people will expect justice, and I will not deny them what they deserve," he said softly. "You are hereby banished from the Blackthorn Clan, and thereby you abandon your claim to be the next rightful leader."

"No. You can't."

The man sighed. "You must admit controlling the minds of dragons is not normal. People are right to be afraid. They fear what you might do if you can stay here." He sighed again and sat down before the Dragonite statue he often prayed to each morning. "You will be sentenced before the crowd."

"Public humiliation then," Jacob remarked, trying to inject humour in his tone, but failing miserably. "I would rather fight in the arena than die at the hands of a mob." But of course that had been cancelled now. Instead, he would be subjected to the pillory for several hours, whilst the crowd threw stuff at him during his sentencing. "Everything I've done for this clan was for our family. To protect us."

Edward was silent.

"Have you nothing to say?"

"The council members will take you to the podium. You may not speak to anyone."

"What about Tahlia? Lance? Clair?"

Edward shook his head. "You are banished, Jacob. You are no longer part of this clan, and no longer part of this family. You have forfeited your rights." Jacob caught a single tear rolling down his father's cheeks. The man regretted his actions, but his code of honour seemed more important.

"You think you can control this clan by satisfying the needs and wants of a rowdy mob? It will not last. One day they'll turn against you and everything you worked to build – sure there'll be peace now, but when you die, tamers will try to claim what is not theirs to take," he hissed. "You may have taken my wife, my son, and my niece away from me, but I will always be a part of this family, and I won't stop fighting for our right to rule even if you have. Farewell father, may we meet again someday in the future."