A mythical beast faces off against a man of magic.
My part: Honor
Spoiler (Click to Show)
The Culture Festival was the only time Dracustos actually went out on a daily basis, even if it was just to linger by the treeline or wander around aimlessly. He simply enjoyed watching the people, thinking how much better the world would be if it were like this; if people learned about their cultures and religions instead of putting them down because they were different.
Humans are truly strange, he thought as he strolled down the rows. His eyes caught sight of Iroh’s stall and made a beeline for it. As he got closer he noticed a man in white sitting on one of the stools, and at first thought it to be Dr. Macbeth. But his clothing lacked the crimson patterns and his head bore a top hat. Draco's sixth sense began to buzz as he continued to draw near, but in a different manner than when the doctor was around. This man had magic, a dark sorcery that seemed to linger about his form.
Energy flows darkly around this one… Irascor commented. Dracustos opened his mouth to reply, then caught himself and closed it.
Yeah, I feel it too. He passed the man in white to sit at the opposite end, catching the slightest whiff of a familiar scent as he went by.
“Ah, Draco! How are you doing my boy?” Iroh greeted.
“Still getting twinges every now and then, but other than that I’m good,” the halfbreed answered. He glanced at the white-clad man.
“Be careful around that one. He smells of blood,” he said privately. Iroh gave a slight nod.
“Zu fenn,” he replied. “Now, what can I get you?” Draco opened his mouth to speak, then realized what language the man had spoken and just stared at him for a moment.
“When did you learn Dragontongue?”
“You don’t think your father is the only dragon I've met, do you? I’ve known the language for a while. I’ve just never used it; prefer to save it for private conversations.” The halfbreed nodded; there was still much about the old man he had yet to learn.
“I see. Anyways, could you get me some sushi?”
“You’ve been requesting that quite often lately. Are you having those cravings again?”
“Yeah…” Dracustos lightly drug his claw tip along the wooden surface as Iroh leaned onto the entrance’s counter.
“You should go hunting then. Or if you like, I could give you something other than fish.”
“I can’t just eat raw meat in public, Iroh.”
“Why not? That’s exactly what you’re doing when you eat sushi.” Dracustos snorted.
“That’s different. It’s a traditional dish of your people, part of your culture. Eating pieces of raw beef would just be… uncivilized.”
“But isn’t it technically part of your culture? You’re half dragon, Dracustos. You have their instincts. You can’t just suppress your predatory nature and expect it to go away. I’m sure you remember what happened last time.” A sigh came from the halfbreed as he turned his gaze to the ground.
“I’ll take care of it later, OK?”
“Please do. I doubt you want to go “sleep-hunting” again.” The old man left to prepare the food. Dracustos watched him for a moment, then glanced at the man in white, who was enjoying a bowl of lo mein. A Fey landed behind the man’s chair, aiming to get some food from him. It took two steps before pausing, then lowered its head and backed away, frills down in fright.
Even the Feys are wary of him…
“Sket raknet,”
“Please, I don’t need to stare at people to do that.” In the blink of an eye, the oriental reached out and whacked the halfbreed on the side of his head. Draco blinked in surprize.
“You watch that sass, son. It’ll get you in trouble one of these days.”
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Dracustos popped the last piece of sushi into his mouth. The meat did little to satisfy his craving for raw flesh. He needed something else. He needed to hunt. To sink his teeth into a fresh kill and taste the blood that flowed from his clenched jaws.
It made him feel like a real animal. Like a feral monster that didn’t belong in society. Uncivilized. But he had to do it, or his body will make him in his sleep like a ravenous werewolf. That made him feel even worse, like he was losing himself to his instincts.
A laugh caught his attention, and Dracustos turned his head to find Iroh talking with the white-clad man. Though they were within hearing range, he didn’t bother listening in to the conversation, instead looking over the stranger. He obviously wasn’t from around here; his clothing was too rich to be from a small town like this. The way he seemed to handle himself around people made the halfbreed second guess smelling blood, the man exuding a friendly and social charisma. But at the same time, it made Draco even more suspicious.
The Draconian turned his attention away and drank his tea. Perhaps he could convince a Fey to follow the man around to make sure he doesn’t stir up trouble…
“Pardon me.” Dracustos looked to his side to find the stranger standing next to him. “Apologies for disrupting your meal, but may I have a moment of your time?” After looking him over again, the halfbreed gestured for the man to take a seat.
“I was just finishing.”
You’re just going to talk to him? Irascor asked, annoyed. Dracustos sipped his tea again as the stranger took a seat.
I’m curious about what he wants, and he hasn’t caused any trouble yet. Besides, I can’t just start a fight in the middle of the festival. There was a mental grumble, and the spirit fell silent.
“Allow me to introduce myself. The name’s Alphonse Archimedes.” He offered a hand, and Dracustos took it.
“Dracustos, but you can call me Draco.”
“Oh, I already knew that. You’ve earned quite the reputation after your little scuffle with Zalgo.”
“Is that so?”
“Indeed. I actually came here to congratulate you. Zalgo is one many consider nearly unstoppable, even by myself. After all, fear is a powerful weapon. But you managed to take him down.”
“Someone needed to drag him off his high horse. Hopefully it’s not still running around.” There was a moment of silence, and Dracustos downed the rest of his tea. He realized now that the man was closer, he definitely smelled blood on him. There was something else as well, so faint even his nose had trouble picking it up. “Well, I appreciate the pat on the back.”
“Oh, it’s no problem. However, that’s not the only reason I’m here. I have a business proposition, but I’d prefer to speak to you in private about it.” The halfbreed almost snorted in annoyance. He felt this wasn’t going to end well.
“Alright then. Anywhere specific you want to go, or…” Alphonse flashed a smile.
“Actually, there is.” He stood and gestured for Dracustos to follow. The Draconian cast a glance at Iroh, who simply shrugged, then left his seat and let the man lead him through the crowds. As they neared the treeline, he expected Alphonse to stop, but the man kept walking.
“Draco? Where are you going?” He paused and glanced behind him. Samantha’s brows were furrowed in confusion and concern.
“We’re just going to talk, Sam. Privately,” Dracustos answered. The young woman crossed her arms, her unamused expression showing she didn’t quite believe him.
“Just to talk, huh?” She glanced at the white-clad stranger. “This doesn’t have anything to do with that RHG business, does it?” The halfbreed opened his mouth to answer, but Alphonse stepped forward and clasp his hands together.
“You need not worry about your friend. As he said, we are simply going to have a little one-on-one chat.” Samantha squinted at him before raising a scolding finger.
“It better be just a talk,” she said sternly, then turned on her heel and vanished among the sea of people. Alphonse followed suit, continuing in the direction he had been going in originally with Dracustos close behind.
“Charming young lady,” the man commented, though the halfbreed couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.
“She doesn't trust you,” he replied bluntly.
“Is that so…” They continued their way through the trees in silence, the halfbreed growing more and more suspicious and uneasy the further they went.
The smell of smoke still hung in the air. The ground began to crunch under their feet as they came to an open area cleared by fire. Few blackened trees still reached for the sky, some supporting those that had fallen from the flames. The ground was blackened as well, littered by ash and fallen trees, the dead grass crumbling underfoot. A bit of green had returned to the area; vines and ferns had already begun reclaiming the scorched earth.
“Why here?” Dracustos asked. Archimedes spun around and sat on air.
“Just in case negotiations go sour. Although I didn’t come here with any ill intentions, you never know how something could go wrong.”
“Alright then,” Dracustos crossed his arms, “so what’s this proposition you mentioned?” A grin found its way to the man’s lips.
“Glad I have your attention. You see, I was recently reached out to by a very influential power that has interested me in assisting them to accomplish their goals. Goals I think you may be interested in.” He paused for an answer, much to the halfbreed’s annoyance.
“Go on.”
“This power plans on cleansing this world with fire to let it regrow. Much like what you’ve done with this patch of forest. As you can imagine, this involves killing a lot of people; something I was originally against, but there are those whom I wish not to die, as I’m sure you do as well. This power promised that if I help, they will keep those people safe. They may be able to guarantee your town’s safety if you join us.”
At first Dracustos just stared at the man, not believing what he was hearing.
“I’m sorry, did you just ask me to help you commit mass genocide?”
“Is that a problem?”
“A problem?! You’re asking me to kill innocents!”
“That’s just a cheap price to pay to keep your loved ones safe,” Alphonse said with a frown. “I honestly don’t see the issue here. They’re just a bunch of nobodies you’ll never meet. Are you telling me that you’re willing to see your town burn because you won’t do what’s right?”
“You and I have very different ideas on what’s right. What you should do is fight that power so none of this happens in the first place.”
“If I do that, I’ll get my loved ones hurt or worse.” He stood and reached into his coat pocket. “Well, it seems I can’t convince you. Such a shame.” He pulled out a deck of cards and fiddled with it, and an alarm went off in the half-dragon’s head. “Though I’d love to let you see the consequences of your actions, I must admit that you are a force to be reckoned with. Getting rid of you now would be easier than later.” Dracustos stepped forward with a snarl, a slight glow fading in and out of his markings.
“And what makes you think that?”
“I’m sure that even for you, those injuries still take some time to heal.” As if to prove the man’s point, a twinge of pain poked at the Draconian’s ribs. He snarled again.
“I’m still more than you can handle, Genocide Magician,” he hissed. Abra removed his tophat, and with a flick of his wrist it vanished.
“What makes you call me that?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I can sense the magic, and those cards are a dead giveaway.” The man smirked and folded his arms.
“So you figured out who I am. I will let you know, however, that I no longer go by that alias.”
“You’re willing to kill thousands of people. You’re still the Genocide Magician.” The scaled beast put his hands out to either side, and his swords appeared from thin air, their golden blades glittering in the sun. Abra remained silent as he split the deck in his hands, and with a flick each half formed into a sword. For a moment they stood still, each waiting for the other to make the first move as the atmosphere grew cold.
Dracustos dashed forward, almost too fast for the magician to react, and swung his swords down. The blow was blocked, but Abra had trouble holding up as the halfbreed used his superior strength against him. The man’s shoes left trails in the scorched earth as he was pushed back, and a shove threw him against a tree. Dracustos swung at him again, but his blades went through wood and smoke. He sensed the magician behind him and swung his tail, but again the man vanished.
Dracustos followed him with his own teleportation, and their swords clashed. It became a deadly dance with no true lead as each fought to gain the upper hand. Whenever the halfbreed seemed to gain an advantage, Abra would poof away, sometimes appearing behind to try and land a strike, sometimes appearing farther away to force the halfbreed to warp after him. The man wouldn’t stay in the same place for long, and as the battle continued the fire-breather began to feel the effects of his constant jumping, and his lungs were having a hard time keeping up.
Dracustos could feel the swell of magic gather behind him as Abra prepared to jump again. As the man vanished in his signature puff of smoke, the halfbreed spun around and threw his sword. The golden blade pierced his opponent’s shoulder and sent him to the ground. Dracustos teleported one last time and pinned Abra by the throat. He drew his other sword back, preparing to drive it through the magician’s chest. But the man simply teleported out of his grasp, and when Draco moved to block his attack, he moved just the right way to send pain shooting across his chest and his lungs suddenly tightened.
The beast wheezed and collapsed, and Abra paused his assault. He let one of his swords collapse back into cards, then pulled the one from his shoulder. For a moment he watched the white cloth turn red.
“You know what annoys me about you heroic types?” he asked. He tossed the golden sword aside and began to slowly walk around Dracustos. “You guys think that you can protect everyone. That everybody can be saved like this is some sort of fairy tale. But it isn’t.” As the man went on his little rant, Dracustos was focusing on how he was going to get his hands on Abra. He knew if this battle continued the way it was, he had no hope of winning.
Something appeared in his mind’s eye. Some sort of circular sigil with runes outside and inside its ring. Though he had never seen it before, the runes he knew; the