A/N: Thank you all very much for being so patient with this story. I promise I will try to be more conscious of updates in the future.
I would also appreciate if you guys could leave some feedback on the story below - i.e your opinions on the story, the characters/OCs, the speed of the plot etc.
It would be much appreciated.
Also, you guys might have noticed that a few things in this chapter will play out MUCH differently than they did in LEGACIES. Yeah, might want to get used to that happening... XD
But for now, THE STORY (5803 Words):
"なくなった!"
The spell exploded from Noel's palm like an atomic blast; piles of earth, rocks and dead leaves flying in all directions with a fearsome thunderclap.
The sheer force of the blast blew Hope and the others clear off their feet, but none more so than the pyromancer; the woman screaming shrilly as she collided with a tree at the end of the clearing.
The area was in absolute chaos now. Magic energy thrashed and battered the clearing like some heavy, invisible hailstorm, carving cracks and fissures into the ground over three feet deep and fifty feet long.
Worse, a terrible storm had engulfed the forest, the very trees and air shaking as if in fear of the possessed Noel.
"Noel!" Alaric shouted, fighting the magic pinning him in place. "Noel! Snap out of it!"
But Noel wasn't listening; his attention focused on the screeching pyromancer. The hafu boy approached the woman slowly, magic sparking across his fingertips and a low snarl rumbling in his throat.
"嫌な獣!" Noel shouted, though his words were unknown to the others. "上司の前で滅びる!"
Noel flicked his right hand sharply to the left, a sickening snap ringing out from the pyromancer's body. The witch howled in agony and tried to crawl away, but Noel hurled another wave of magic at her, pinning the pyromancer to the tree.
Near the cellar, Hope was finally able to stand back up, but barely. The sheer power of Noel's magic lashed at Hope's skin like whips and rolled over her body like a tsunami of invisible flames. Even breathing was a Herculean task; every breath passing down Hope's throat like jagged rocks.
"Nghhh...Noel!" the tribrid shouted over the wind. She winced and raised her arms over her face, pushing against the fearsome winds. "Noel! Wake up!"
Still, Noel refused to listen, his mind preoccupied with some hostile, magical bloodlust. The boy was right before the pyromancer, blasting her with two more spells.
The first spell shoved the pyromancer halfway into the oak tree, but the second blew it (and the other trees) apart completely - bark and twigs exploding in all directions.
Protegas!
Hope pushed out her hands, a protective spell deflecting the debris but doing little to help the pyromancer.
The witch groaned wearily on the ground at Noel's feet, coughing up blood and embers as Noel seized her by the throat and dragged her up with one hand.
"Holy crap!" Landon gasped.
The pyromancer kicked and flailed in Noel's grip as he lifted her above his head, the woman scraping and pawing at his sleeve as her bloodshot eyes rolled back into her head.
"哀れな!" Noel lowed, baring his teeth like a lion. "世界はあなたを悼むことなく向きを変えます..."
"What's he saying?!" Raf shouted over the winds, hauling Landon back up onto his feet.
"I don't know!" Hope shouted back, her fingertips burning as Noel's magic battered her shield spell. "His outbursts have never been this bad before! His magic is going out of control!"
"Understatement of the century!" Landon shouted, scoffing.
Hope ignored him and moved forward, the barrier spell fizzling and crackling with every arduous step. By the time Hope took six steps, the barrier spell was practically failing.
Landon bit his lip as he watched Hope struggle, the curly-haired boy clenching a fist at his side.
"Raf!" he implored, taking his brother's arm. "We need to help her! We have to do something!"
Raf shrugged, the boy at a loss for words.
"W-What can we do, Lan?" he replied, his voice barely audible over the chaos. "Noel's having a magic breakdown, and Hope's barely standing!"
Landon groaned under his breath, his olive-green eyes frantically searching for something that could help out.
"Landon!" Alaric barked. "Don't try and interfere! With the way he is right now, Noel could kill yo-hey, whoa, what are you doing?!"
Alaric's eyes went wide as Landon picked up a heavy rock from the ground, the same rock Raf threw at the pyromancer, and took a defiant step forward.
"Hey, asshole!" Landon shouted at Noel. "Calm down! You're gonna kill us all!"
Alaric moved to intercept him, but it was too late. Landon had already let the stone fly.
Miraculously, the stone broke through the winds unscathed and seemed dead on target. But a split-second before it could hit Noel, the boy whirled around and caught it with his free hand.
And that's when everyone saw it.
"...What the hell?!" Raf exclaimed.
Noel's face, once fair and lively, was now ghostly porcelain. His lips were pursed into a thin line, and his cheekbones, once barely visible, were higher and prominent to the point that Noel appeared emaciated.
An ethereal visage. But those weren't even the most haunting change.
"...Oh my god..." Hope gasped, her jaw dropping.
Noel's eyes were glowing; two narrowed, cat-like orbs filled with hate, rage, and power - all burning together in a cacophony of blood-orange fire.
Snarling, Noel crushed the rock into powder (yes, crushed it) and threw the dust back in Landon's direction. The fragments struck Hope's shield like buckshot, dispelling it completely.
Hope screamed as the shield shattered, flying backwards as Landon caught her in a clumsy bear-hug. Noel glared at the group like he was about to attack them again when suddenly, he cried out in pain and gripped the right of his face.
Landon, Alaric, and Raf watched dumbfounded as Noel clamped a hand over his right eye, the amber glow in his left eye flickering like a dying car light.
"私と戦わないで!" he yelled.
As the witch shouted and screamed, the chaotic magic engulfing the area suddenly started to die down, the winds all but ceasing and the air becoming easier to breathe.
"What the hell is happening?" Raf exclaimed.
"I don't know." Alaric breathed. "I think Noel is starting to get control over himself again!"
As Noel continued screaming, his grip loosened on the Dragon's throat. Barely a finger or two looser, but more than enough for the creature to kick Noel away.
Noel gasped, winded as the pyromancer's sooty heels connected with his stomach and knocked him to the ground.
"Hey!" Alaric shouted, bolting like a jackrabbit towards the unconscious Noel.
But the pyromancer's burning gaze stopped the man dead in his tracks, the woman swaying on her heels as her throat started to glow.
Alaric's eyes widened in horror. Oh no!
No, Noel was too far away! Hope was barely conscious, and there was no way Landon or Raf could take the pyromancer on right now. If she blasted Noel with those flames, he'd be incinerated!
"Noel!" Alaric called out. "Wake u-"
But it was too late. With a guttural roar, the pyromancer's lips parted, unleashing the flames within and engulfing Noel in a marigold inferno.
"NO!"
...Or so everyone thought.
The moment the flames approached him, Noel suddenly bolted upright, his palms thrusting outwards in the pyromancer's direction.
The flames lashed and licked at everything around them but stopped dead in their tracks the moment they came within three feet of Noel.
The pyromancer snarled defiantly and urged more power into the flames. But no matter how hard she pushed herself, they wouldn't budge. The fire burned there, frozen and roiling in mid-air as if locked within an invisible box.
"Whooooaa." Raf gasped, his dark eyes wide with awe.
The others could do nothing but mirror Raf's expression, amazed (even terrified) by the spectacle unfolding before them:
Noel Griffith, the 'defective' witch who struggled with simple spells, was holding off a pyromancer through sheer willpower.
The magic building between Noel and the pyromancer swelled to a crescendo, the flames expanding and 'rattling' like a water glass in an earthquake. Soon, a fresh burst of adrenaline shot up Noel's body, pushing the boy up from the ground and onto his feet.
It was the pyromancer's turn to struggle, her fire breath weakening as the flames between her and Noel writhed and screeched - feeding on the chaotic energy of Noel's magic.
The wind started to whip up again, a small tornado of dust circling around Noel's sneakers as the amber glow returned to his eyes. He winced, blood trickling down his nose and over his lips as his hands started to cramp.
"Let go." some voice of reason urged within his mind. "Let go!"
And with a furious shout, he did just that.
Noel shoved himself forward as if pushing someone over a ledge, directing all of his magic towards the pyromancer.
The flames collided with the pyromancer like a freight train, the volatile mix of magic and fire detonating.
The pyromancer let out an ear-splitting scream as the fire struck her like a freight train, consuming her in a fearsome explosion of magic and flame.
The blast sent the pyromancer hurtling into the trees, the sounds of breaking bone and pained cries ringing out as her body rag-dolled against the trees and disappeared into the woods.
...And then there was silence.
Noel swayed for a moment and fell onto his knees, panting like a whipped dog as Hope ran to his side.
"Noel..." the tribrid breathed, awe lingering in her blue-green eyes. "T-That was...that was incredible..!"
Noel groaned as Raf, Alaric and Landon ran over. The witch's body was feverish to the touch, and sweat pooled in a blackish patch at the back of his hoodie.
"Ugh..." he grunted, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand. "I don't feel very 'incredible'..."
Hope ignored his complaint as she inspected him for injuries. The boy had a few bruises from exchanging blows with the pyromancer and a bloody nose, but almost nothing else. Miraculously, there were no burns, not even a patch of soot on his clothes.
How was that even possible?
"Jesus Christ, Noel." Alaric chided as he knelt down to face Noel. "You could have been killed."
The headmaster cupped Noel's chin, moving his head from side to side until Noel swatted his hand away, pouting like a child.
"...Hey, uh...guys?"
Hope fought the urge to roll her eyes as Landon spoke. "What?"
Landon's gaze was glued to the treeline ahead, the same treeline the pyromancer disappeared into, his hazel eyes glazed over with fear.
"Y-You said that woman was...was a pyromancer, r-right?"
"Yes." Hope looked up to him, her back to the trees. "Do you have a point?"
Landon swallowed, a bead of sweat running down his face.
"Well, uh, do all pyromancers have...giant wings?!"
Hope gasped and whirled around as she stood up, an action repeated by everyone else.
Still on the ground, Noel tried to steal a glance at the treeline, but Alaric's broad frame blocked his line of sight.
Grunting, the boy stood up and nudged Alaric out of the way, his eyes meeting the creature emerging from the trees.
...He wished that they hadn't.
"What the hell is that?!" Raf exclaimed.
Everyone looked on in horror as the pyromancer emerged into the clearing, not only unscathed but also sporting two giant, bat-like wings on her back. With every step she took, a portion of her skin shed away like paper, revealing sludge-brown scales beneath.
By the time she was halfway across the clearing, the pyromancer was no more, and in her place stood a great, hulking-
"Dragon!" Alaric shouted.
The creature let out a blood-curdling shriek as Alaric spoke, the stench of burnt leather and rot permeating the air. It flew up into the air with a snarl, its wings blocking out the sunlight and kicking up gusts of wind.
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Noel swore, taking a defiant step forward. "You have got to be kidding m- AGH!"
A familiar burning pain shot up Noel's body, his whole right side burning and going numb.
Noel's legs gave way beneath him again, but Raf caught him by the arm as he fell, receiving a glare from Hope.
"Take him with you and run back to the jeep. Landon too." the girl ordered, watching the Dragon cautiously. The creature climbed higher into the air, shrieking and roaring with every beat of its wings.
But even with the Dragon circling above, Noel glared back at her, pushing Raf away.
"You really expect me to leave you and the headmaster here while you take on a dragon?!"
The Dragon roared in the sky above, circling the forest like a bird of prey.
"No," Hope argued, her steely eyes blazing. "I expect you to take Rafael and Landon out of here so I can take on the Dragon without distractions."
Noel felt his shoulders sag as Hope looked back to the circling Dragon, the sharp pain still numbing his side.
"Besides, you're injured. You keep pushing yourself, and you'll have a stroke. Just get out of here, okay?"
Noel opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by another shriek from the Dragon. The creature had completed its third lap over the forest and was circling back, Noel's lithe frame gleaming in the Dragon's reptilian eyes.
"You should take cover too." Hope told Alaric.
Alaric's eyes narrowed. "Like hell!"
Hope turned around with a hand on her hip. "Then tell me how I'm going to explain to your daughters that all that's left of you is hot ash?"
"The 'Dad' Card?" Alaric sighed. "That's a low blow!"
Noel rolled his eyes as Alaric bolted to the cellar. "Well, at least she didn't pull the 'Too Injured To Function' card on you-"
"Noel!" Hope snapped. "Move it!"
Noel bit his lip as the Dragon roared, flying straight at them.
"Fine!" he growled. "But don't come crying to me when that Dragon roasts you alive!"
The witch patted Raf's arm and jerked his head towards the forest, ignoring the pain in his legs as Landon and Raf sprinted into the woods.
For a split second, Noel stole a glance at Hope, a flutter of anxiety in his gut as Hope raised Landon's dagger at the diving Dragon.
"...Don't go dying on me, Mikaelson."
And before Hope could look back, he and the boys had already disappeared into the trees.
- xxxxxxx -
"Owww..."
Alaric winced and rolled his neck as he exited the jeep, the gravel of the Salvatore School driveway crackling under his feet.
Jesus, he thought bitterly, that was going to be the last 'field trip' they were going to take for a while.
Hope stormed past him as they approached the entryway, followed closely by Noel, the two throwing the door open with an agitated flourish and starting down the hallway.
Alaric frowned. "Hope, I-"
But the tribrid kept walking, her jaw clenched and fists shaking as she disappeared up the stairs. Noel, shooting Alaric a look, disappeared into the kitchens.
Great, more damage control to fix later...
"Dorian?" Alaric called out. "You here?"
There was no reply, Alaric's voice reverberating down the sunlit hallways.
Did he go back to that football game with the kids? Hopefully, Lizzie and Josie were staying out of trouble...
Scratching his head, Alaric sauntered into his office and tossed the Knife (now wrapped in a burgundy cloth) onto his desk.
What a day, he thought as he leaned over his chair. First a theft from the library, threats of exposure, controlling some angry teenagers, a battle with a freakin' dragon...
Alaric sniffed his shirt, pulling back with a sharp cough.
...And now he smelled like a burnt, sweaty pig!
"Ric?" a woman called out from the hallway. "Was that you?"
"In here!" Alaric answered her, standing upright.
The faint clicking of heels filled the air until Emma Tyg appeared in the doorway, her gentle features awash with concern.
"Come on in." Alaric invited her. "Just be sure to close the door."
But Emma simply folded her arms and leaned on the threshold.
"Perhaps not." she said, stifling a cough. "It might do to air out the room a bit..."
Alaric sighed as he flopped onto his office chair. "That bad, huh?"
Emma gave him a sympathetic yet amused smile. "Well, put it this way; I can't tell if you took a bath in a hot sweat or got locked in a rotting smokehouse. Much less which came first..."
Alaric scoffed amusedly. "Yeah, yeah, very funny..."
"But..." Emma sighed, stepping into the office. "All things considered, I'd classify the stench as a win."
Alaric gave the witch a confused look as she sat down, the latter draping one leg over the other.
"...Dorian filled me in on the situation in the forest." Emma explained. "How fitting that a hunt for a magical item ended with a fight against dragon."
"Yeah," Alaric scoffed. "Getting chased around the forest by a fire-breathing monster. Livin' the dream..!"
Emma forced herself not to smile as Alaric reached into the bottom drawer of his desk, retrieving a bottle of honey-gold bourbon and two glasses.
She opened her mouth to speak, her eyes wide with worry, but Alaric shrugged.
"It's been a day..."
He poured himself and Emma a drink, clinking their glasses together before Emma could even pick hers up.
"To the joys of teaching."
Emma half-laughed as she brought her glass to her lips, but quickly wrinkled her nose as she took a swig.
She cleared her throat, patting her upper chest as she let the faint burning sensation pass.
"...So," Emma began. "What exactly happened?"
Alaric shrugged as he drank his bourbon.
"Well, we tracked Landon Kirby to the forest," the headmaster recounted, slouching in his chair. "Found out that he still had the Knife right as we were ambushed by the Dragon..."
"How did you defeat it?" Emma asked, her voice low.
Alaric sighed bitterly, an irritated sound that put Emma on edge.
"...We didn't. Hope wounded it with a..." Alaric paused for a moment. "With, an uh...spell, but it managed to get away while she fell unconscious."
Emma's thin eyebrows furrowed. "Hope passing out from magic? It must have been quite the spell."
Alaric averted his eyes, recalling the spat he and Hope had a mere few hours ago.
This isn't Earth Magic, Hope! This is your father!"
"...Yeah, it was."
Alaric drank the last of the bourbon from his glass and forced the memory as far back into his mind as it could go, steeling himself for more of Emma's questions.
"...What about Nolan?" the witch asked.
Alaric stopped drinking, his jaw clenching at the mention of Noel's name.
"Was he able to help out at all? With the Dragon, I mean?"
Alaric released a low, steady sigh as he put his glass back down on the table, memories from the forest flitting through his mind.
Emma looked at Alaric worriedly. "Ric? Ric, what's wrong?"
Alaric stayed silent and reached for the bourbon bottle, but Emma grabbed it first and dragged it out of Alaric's reach.
"Ric." she repeated, her voice stern. "What. Happened?"
But when she saw the look in Alaric's eyes, that mixture of shame, frustration and fear, Emma already had her answer.
"...Nolan had another fit, didn't he?"
Alaric didn't need to answer her. The tension in his jaw and the death grip around his glass was all the confirmation that Emma needed.
"...It wasn't just a fit." he finally said. "It was a meltdown. A magic temper tantrum."
Emma let go of the bottle, allowing Alaric to pour himself another drink. "How so?"
"Well, from what we've seen," Alaric recalled. "Most of Nolan's 'fits' have just been bursts of flames, wind or a broken window. Pretty trivial stuff."
Emma raised an eyebrow. 'Trivial'? Tell that to all the carpenters and maintenance stuff the school had to keep on retainer.
"But this time...It felt worse. His magic felt so...I dunno...chaotic. And angry. Like it was lashing out at everything."
Alaric pinched the bridge of his nose with a defeated sigh.
"Call me crazy, Emma, but I'm starting to feel like...like whatever's wrong with Nolan is-"
"Getting worse?" Emma asked. "Well, not to sound like the voice of doom, but I've been wondering the same thing myself."
Alaric didn't respond to her answer, the man simply watching in silence as Emma tapped her manicured nails along her bourbon glass.
It made sense for Emma to have noticed changes in Nolan's behaviour. She had been spending the most time with him in recent months - sessions and extra sessions, and all that.
But why didn't she say anything sooner? Was she worried about invading Nolan's privacy, or overstepping her bounds?
Alaric didn't know, but one thing was for sure:
Emma looked as scared as he felt.
"...We have to figure out what's wrong with Nolan," Alaric concluded. "Now more than ever."
Emma let her lean frame sink into her chair. "Where do you suggest we start?"
"Well, for starters," Alaric said, folding his arms onto the desk. "We need to keep this between us. We can confide in Dorian if we need an extra pair of eyes. But if we get anyone else involved, we run the risk of Nolan finding out."
There was a mischievous glint in Emma's smile. "So I take it that simply asking Noel isn't an option?"
Alaric shook his head, but couldn't help but smile at Emma's dry humour. "Heh, no. But try to dig a little more during your sessions with him. There might be some kind of clue or hint that he'll drop without realising it."
Emma nodded and downed the rest of her bourbon, glancing at her leather wristwatch.
"Dorian and the others will be back with the kids soon. I'd best head off. Thank you for the drink, Ric."
Alaric nodded, a worried expression on his face.
"Hey," Emma stood up and placed her hand over Alaric's, a rush of heat shooting up the man's arm. "We're going to get to the bottom of this. For all of our sakes and for Nolan's."
Alaric averted his eyes but urged himself to nod and give Emma a thankful smile. Without another word, the woman turned away and left, a feeling of security ebbing from Alaric's heart.
Alaric poured himself another drink, the questions buzzing in his mind quietened by the bourbon's hot-cold burn.
The headmaster couldn't help but chide himself for not being on top of this sooner. He and Caroline had agreed to make this place to support and create a safe haven for supernatural kids. Yet here he was, completely in the dark about one of their first students and a threat to the school's security.
Alaric groaned bitterly as that thought crossed his mind.
Ugh, he couldn't think of Nolan like that, but this was starting to get out of hand. That fit he had in the woods, what if it had happened in the school? What if it had been one of the students that Noel had attacked? What if it had been Lizzie or Josie in that Dragon's place?
Alaric drowned the thought with another mouthful of bourbon, his hands shaking.
They had to figure something out before Nolan's fits got even worse. But what leads did they have to go on that they hadn't tried already?
Caroline had already tried Nolan's ward, but he wouldn't even pick up the phone let alone answer any questions.
Dorian had spend days in the library researching supernatural afflictions similar to Nolan's. Nothing.
None of the other teachers knew what to do either, even with their varied supernatural experiences. And all tests for mental illness that they put Nolan through came back negative.
Alaric sighed, his broad frame sagging in his chair.
And they didn't have anything else of Nolan's to go on either; no other background information, heritage, personal objects or-
Alaric gasped. Wait.
The man put down his glass and steered his chair back, his eyes landing on the topmost drawer of his desk - a bronze keyhole staring back at him.
Twisting the lock open with a brass key in his pocket, Alaric tugged the drawer open and beheld the contents with a steady breath.
There were two photos of Lizzie and Josie, some tri-fold Salvatore School brochures, and a pile of folders labelled 'ADMIN' in bold red letters.
Alaric's jaw clenched.
And way at the back, a small drawstring bag.
The bag was barely the size of a small wallet, and made from a navy-blue fabric that was incomparably soft to the touch.
But despite that feeling of comfort, a cold feeling crept up Alaric's spine as he held the bag in his hand.
He hadn't been there the day that Nolan turned up at the school nine years ago, but Alaric had heard the gist of it from Caroline.
Nolan had shown up at the school, practically out of nowhere, with nothing but a few hundred dollars, the clothes on his back and an emergency contact number. His arrival didn't exactly follow the Salvatore School's usual enrolment process, to say the least.
Alaric opened the drawstring bag, the contents falling into his palm.
But the strangest thing about Nolan's enrolment? This crystal ball that he had been sent with.
Alaric held the ball up between two fingers, the smooth crystal and silver chain glistening in the afternoon sunlight.
This ball, Nolan's ward had prioritised it over a letter of recommendation, medical forms, transfer papers, even a suitcase of clothes. What was so important about it?
Fzzt!
Alaric cried out in surprise as a jolt of heat shot up his hand, causing him to drop the ball. The object rolled but stopped midway across the desk, an ethereal whisper emanating from its crystalline surface.
What the hell was that? Alaric wondered, watching the ball as if it were some coiled snake waiting to strike.
"We're going to get to the bottom of this." Emma's words replayed in his mind. "For all of our sakes and for Nolan's."
They were investigating Nolan's past to help the boy figure out his problems. To help the school. Their methods, though a little less than transparent, were for Nolan's good and everyone else's.
Alaric swallowed, his face reflected in the ball as if he were staring into someone's eyes.
...So why did Alaric feel like this mystery could only end in something terrible?
- xxxxxxx -
The Dragon's breaths came in ragged, wheezing gasps as she ran to the edge of the forest.
Dirt soiled her dress, branches whipped at her face and the rocks and leaves scuffed her feet as she finally broke through the trees and into the open.
The Dragon paused, sniffing the air and looking around.
The sun was setting, the sky painted in swathes of reds, purples and orange-yellows. The last rays of sunlight fell across the highway some feet ahead of the Dragon, turning its dark surface a translucent black.
The Dragon relaxed her shoulders as she adjusted to the soft noises of the night, her heartbeat ringing in her ears.
No humans, she realized. None of their crude wood and stone buildings, or their self-driving carriages and-
"Got you~!"
The Dragon whirled around as a spear-like object whistled through the air and tore through her left shoulder.
The creature squealed like a stuck pig as she fell backwards to the ground, spasming on the grass like a dying cockroach as smug laughter filled the air.
"Well, how about that?" her attacker mused, speaking some strange language. "A dragon runnin' around in America of all places? I mean, I knew you guys were big in the West and all, but wow!"
The attacker came into full view now. It was another boy with the same fair-skinned, delicate features of the powerful one from before.
However, unlike the boy from before, this one was dressed rather strangely - in ripped, black skinny-jeans rolled above the ankles and a pair of Doc Marten shoes with neon-green laces.
But his strangest item of clothing by far was his denim and leather jacket, the blood-red fabric bringing out the luminous magenta streaks in his hair.
"Ah man," the boy mused, removing a pair of green hippy glasses from his face. "The things you find while travellin', huh?"
The boy had an infectious laugh, but every giggle chilled the Dragon to the bone and wound every tension in her body tighter.
With a pained whine, the Dragon wrenched the spear (a thick branch with a decoratively whittled end) and stood upright, her dress bloody and legs wobbling.
The Dragon brandished the spear, a low growl rumbling in her throat as the boy chuckled.
"Aw, c'mon, babe. Can't we talk this out?"
The Dragon shrieked and hurled the branch with lightning speed, but the boy simply angled his body out of the way, his eyes locking with the Dragon's.
The Dragon's body froze in a cold snap of panic as she met the boy's gaze, the fluorescent glow in his eyes sending chills rocketing down her spine.
Those eyes...they were just like-!
Suddenly, vines erupted from the grass beneath the Dragon's feet, lashing themselves around her arms and her throat and rearing her back.
The Dragon let out a sharp gasp as the vines choked her, the giggling boy dominating her vision.
Was he doing this?
"I guess I'll take that as a 'no'..." the boy winced jovially. The light in his eyes brightened, his pupils glowing like orange orbs in the darkness of the dusk.
He flexed his fingers, the vines tightening around the Dragons' body like pythons as the boy started towards her.
"Y'know..." the youth sighed, his tongue still unknown to the Dragon's ears. "It's really your own fault that you're in this position. If disgustin' beasts like you just understood your place and kept hidin'..."
He stopped in front of her.
"...Then I wouldn't have to do this."
And without another word, the boy punched his fist through the Dragon's chest.
The Dragon gasped, her whole body seizing up as the boy's fist tore through her. He was still for a moment, his eyes glowing callously until he pulled his fist back - the Dragon's heart clenched between his clawed fingernails.
The Dragon groaned, a final pathetic sob as the darkness swallowed her vision, her head dropping limply as blood spilled over her lips.
The boy scoffed. Dead already? Jeez, one would think that a supernatural apex predator would be a little more resilient-
Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.
The boy looked down as something buzzed furiously in his jacket pocket. Grumbling, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a lime-green phone, the caller ID flashing in bold white letters:
INKUNE.
The boy groaned. "Oh, for fuck's-Hello? That you, Inky?"
A disapproving murmur rattled from the other end of the call.
"Suta." Inkune's acknowledged in a cold voice. "Curt as ever, I see."
The boy, Suta, scoffed as he glanced away from the Dragon's corpse. "And you've got shit timing, as ever. There a reason that you called me?"
"You and the others were summoned almost two days ago." Inkune chided him. "Where are you?"
"Ughhhh, I've been busy." Suta sighed. He started tossing the Dragon's heart up and down in his hand as if it were a tennis ball.
"Busy doing what?" Inkune almost scoffed. "Torturing some lesser yokai? Some witches? Or just tangling yourself up in the thighs of some harlot?"
"Hey," Suta stopped tossing the heart. "We all need a little downtime. You don't see me shamin' you for your hobbies."
He snickered.
"I mean, if you have any hobbies, besides bein' Rokubi's bitch."
A nagging little voice in Suta's head encouraged him to tell Inkune about the Dragon, but Suta forced it to the back of his mind. The last thing Inkune needed was more of an excuse to give him a lecture.
"Well," Inkune sighed. "As flattered as I am that you are taking an interest in my personal affairs, I'm afraid that I must insist you direct that enthusiasm elsewhere. Like returning to the forest estate. We have a new mission for you."
"And what mission will that be?" Suta sighed. He drop-kicked the Dragon's heart with a flourish, punching the air as it landed on the road with a fleshy 'splat'.
"...Who does Rokubi want dead now?"
"Not dead." Inkune corrected him. "Found."
The aide paused for a moment as if bracing himself to deliver shocking news.
"...We are doubling our efforts to find the Hirotsu."
Suta froze. His painted fingernails dug into his phone, squeezing the lime green case in a death grip.
"So..." he inhaled. "Rokubi's still searching for that crazy chick?"
Images of the blonde-haired woman from Rokubi's files flashed through Suta's mind like lightning, stirring a flutter of anxiety in his stomach.
"Rokubi-sama never gave up the search." Inkune said, his monotone voice lowering. "But it seems that the same cannot be said about those entrusted with the search."
Suta drew a breath. Man, he did not want to be those guys right now...
"Rokubi-sama has requested that you aid in the search for her. Please return to the estate in the New York forest immediately for further information. Failure in locating the Hirotsu is not an option."
And without another word, Inkune hung up.
Suta rolled his eyes as he stuffed his phone back into his jacket. 'Requested that he lead the investigation'? Since when did Rokubi 'request' anything?
The youth let his eyes wander over the darkened forest for a moment until his gaze fell back upon the Dragon.
The creature's corpse hung there limply, its blood running down the vines in thick, lukewarm rivulets.
"Yeah, yeah..." Suta groaned, wiping his bloody hand on the Dragon's dress. "Stringin' you up on the vines was a bit of a dick move, but it could've been worse..."
He pulled his hand back with a stifled laugh.
"...Old Inky could've come here and beat you with the stick he's got lodged up his ass!"
Suta cackled uproariously, his manic laughter echoing across the dark, empty highway. He willed himself to stop after a quarter minute, wiping his eyes with one hand and reaching for his glasses with the other.
But as he replaced his glasses over his eyes, an odd sensation washed over Suta's heart.
It was an odd feeling, like a chill down the spine, only hotter and focused across his whole body. The sensation was alien and uneasy, yet oddly familiar.
...It couldn't be. Suta thought.
But the feeling quickly dissipated, prompting Suta to shrug.
"Whatever," he exhaled, starting down the dark road. "I've got better shit to do..."
And within moments, the boy was gone, leaving nothing but the lynched Dragon's corpse and the faint echoes of laughter behind him...
...Well, F*CK, that escalated quickly o_o
So many mysteries this chapter! What caused Noel's powers to act up?
What are the sources of this power?
Who is Suta and what are his connections to Rokubi?
And who is this woman/Hirotsu that Rokubi is seeking?
The plot, like Malivore mud, THICKENS ;)
Please don't forget to vote on this chapter and comment your thoughts and predictions!
What do YOU think is next in store for our hero?
See you all in the next chapter - SCHOOL OF ROCK MONSTERS ;)
- KaiShiro