A waning sun hovers above the horizon, across an alpine tundra, where highlands rose to the left and a glacier on the right. The sky, a gray canvas, that is occasionally lit by flaming debris. This debris was eventually cooled once smashing into the ground. He can feel it, the biting chill upon his purple skin. Most of that is covered by robing and armour. His right arm is the exception, it hangs nakedly with the hand gripping the hilt of his sword. This right arm, coloured in a blaze of crimson, a tattoo of some kind. Despite the cold freezing his crimson arm, it hasn’t yet cooled the fiery heart that pounds within, amongst many others.

Soldiers stand at attention behind him. Lining the wall of the city they’re defending. 

‘Master Dmase, the last group of evacuation ships are being loaded with civilians’

The master narrows his gaze on the oncoming ships and army of Confederacy forces. They’ve fought for this planet, Valyrone, for years. The last city remains and if it is lost—this world will fall into their clutches.

‘Good, we must stand our ground and ensure every civilian leaves this world unscathed’

The men heed his words, yet as he turns to face them all, fear is what he sees. Understandably so, as this could very well be the end for them. The thought is enough to turn anyone away. But these men serve a greater purpose, an Empire who has seen to the stability of this galaxy for millennia. With a Dragon warrior amongst their ranks, surely they can survive. Though that is not enough and he really doesn’t like giving speeches.

‘Fear not, reinforcements are coming!’, he assures, nodding his head.

Dmase spins back round and winces hard that the lines of his face show. Regretting his choice of words but doesn’t know what to else to say. Perhaps back in the day he would have something more. Now, he could not care less. Death is a familiar entity. The men see horror, hopelessness and the end. Where as he sees another encroaching army blanketed in shadow. Soldiers will fall on both sides. Yet, their is a subtle doubt that festers within his heart, that this may be the end for him to.

This shadow army comes to light as a break in the clouds allow a ray of sunlight to slip through. Placing a spotlight on the front of the Confederacy army and the city. 

‘Soldiers, take position along the wall!’, Dmase orders. A row of soldiers take their places against the wall.

The master turns and makes way to the stairs that will lead to the ground section of the city.

‘I’ll leave it with you commander’

‘Aim! Hold!…FIIIREE!!!’

A plethora of plasma bolts fly down toward the Confederacy army. Lines of them begin to drop. They then retaliate by firing their plethora of plasma. Scorching the city walls, and when a soldier is hit another takes their place.

—

Soon the hulking Confederacy ships let loose. Their cannons blast through the walls creating breaches for the army to swarm into. Confederacy fighters leave their brooding motherships and soar down, laying havoc upon the city and its defenders. Fortunately the city has anti-air cannons that quickly dispose of these fighter craft. In doing so these cannons become a priority for the Confederacy. Without them, they could easily take out the evacuation ships.

Master Dmase draws his sword—his kenjiin, and stabs it at the enemy soldiers that pour through the city’s gaping wounds. The soldiers beside him fire, mowing down rows and rows of them to the point where their bodies toppled over each other, becoming mounds. It grew difficult for them to break through. Till a Jahaaki, an elite Confederacy warrior, stands proudly and flays its weapon about (a double-bladed sword). Boasting. It roars, sending fear down the spines of soldiers, who quake in their boots and stare at the Dragon master that he himself, trembles.

A flock of soldiers come flooding over with the jahaaki. Dmase transitions into a Shesh-Da stance. In where he’ll be able to block enemy fire with the help of his Dragon essence. This essence projects a shield.

When they come close into his blade’s reach he immediately swings, slaying soldier after soldier, dismembering their limbs whilst steadily approaching the jahaaki. 

‘Commander, how’s the evacuation going!?’ He asks over his communication device.

‘The last ship is being boarded as we speak!’

He looks up high, watching the massive ships crawl over the city. Their shadows forcing an unwanted darkness. Nothing is stopping them from blowing up the last evacuation ship. Dmase also notices that there are lot less anti-air fire. Some of the guns must have been destroyed.

‘Commander, order the evacuation ship to hold. The air’s too hot. They will not make it until reinforcements arrive!’

‘But master…’

‘That’s an order!’

‘Aye aye’

A round of thumping sounds grow exponentially louder, then that familiar roar. His eyes dart forward, bringing his attention back to what’s happening. A glint of metal draws down and Dmase raises his blade a ringing clash ricochets. The jahaaki stares him down in disgust.

‘Arrghhh, mul va duu ak vaa. Esk vu marg!’, the beast spits. Dmase bears no idea of what it had said.

The master puts force into the sword-lock and then utilises it to push away, giving him the chance to switch into Buura-Zu form. Angling the kenjiin into an incline across his body. This is also a defensive stance with a little offence; it can be used to dish out light attacks. However, Buura-Zu is used during melee encounters, such as this.

This jahaaki towers over the Soresuu man. And Dmase is considered buffed compared to the rest of his species. Yet if given the opportunity this jahaaki can easily break him. But Dmase will not go down without a considerable fight. If he is to fall, he will make it difficult for the enemy to accomplish that goal.

In his prime he had faced only a handful of jahaaki, none of them as tall as this one, or menacing. As the beast slashes in a downward manner, Dmase slides to the side, evading, and goes in for quick strike for a weak-point on the its arm. Though before he could land one he is backlashed by the jahaaki’s hand. Dmase flies and crashes into rubble. The master rubs his head in an attempt to reclaim focus. His vision blurred, however, that soon changes and a frightful sight emerges. The jahaaki is in mid-charge! Dmase wheels away. Its double-bladed sword wedges itself into the metal and stone rubble. Jammed. Dmase swerves in for a thrust—stabbing it through the back of its head.

Thick, vehement green blood stains the blade. He can hear more thumping sounds from behind and as he swings to face whatever could be charging at him now, a sharp pain courses through him. Gripping at his left arm…or at least what use to be of his left arm. Looking to the ground he can see it, twitching. Two jahaaki warriors stand before him, both are lot less taller than the one he had fought. 

‘This is the commander, all units, the city is surrounded, retreat and protect the last evacuation ship! I repeat, protect the last evacuation ship!’

The remaining men behind Dmase obey and flee to the last evacuation ship.

‘Master Dragon, aren’t you coming!’

‘Go, I’ll be with you shortly!…I’ve got business to attend to’

—

Dmase tightens his grip with his dominant hand. The one that belonged to the crimson arm. His eyes narrow, and he directs his essence into this arm, by doing so a rising heat can be felt. Confederacy soldiers aim at him—he’ll take them out first before facing the jahaaki. The moment he moves a foot they open fire and the jahaaki try to strike him down but miss. Single-handedly he cuts through swathes of enemy soldiers. To their eyes he’s like lightning. They can’t keep up! 

He slices through them as if they’re butter. Blood splashes against him. He has never used his kenjiin with one hand, he’s learning on the go. Putting that strength into it. Once the soldiers are dealt with, Dmase snatches up a couple of grenades and throws them at the mounds of bodies. Setting them ablaze. Deterring anymore forces to enter. By doing that it gives the man time to fight the two jahaaki. Harnessing the rage within. He strikes at one and parries the other, switching between the pair, and as he does Dmase breaks away little by little, to where the evacuation ship is. 

A fighter craft crashes down disposing one of the jahaaki. Now he can solely place his attention onto one. During this ordeal his left arm is also regenerating. Bone by bone, ligament to ligament, then the muscle, and finally the skin. The essence a Dragon possesses can do miraculous things.

The master flows into Akk-Tu, a balance between offensive and defensive. It requires the user to perform with controlled and precise wrist movements. Good for claustrophobic spaces like the valley way they battle in.

Dmase let’s the jahaaki strike until a vulnerability in its posture reveals itself. Losing its hand in the process. The double-bladed sword it wielded clangs to the ground. Dmase swings and the blade slashes through the neck, severing it into two. The head rolls of and joins the double-bladed sword.

—

The evacuation ship is still there, intact, and fully boarded. Soldiers fire in multiple directions. Fending off an overwhelming horde. Dmase squints and makes out the commander’s face amongst the fallen. He bites his lip.

‘On me men!’ He commands. The soldiers listen and huddle up to the Dragon master, forming a close formation.

They fight valiantly and against incredible odds, until reinforcements arrive—finally.

Empire ships break through the heavy clouds and rain their cannons onto the larger Confederacy ships. Dmase bangs at evacuation ship’s cockpit.

‘Go go go, get these people off-world!’ The master cries. 

The evacuation ship’s engines roar, lifting off up into the air. It’s thruster kick in and off it soars, leaving Valyrone behind. The men near him fall to the ground. He does the same except out of exhaustion, his weary eyes see blots of shadows surround him. A light suddenly appears above them, coming from the ship. It didn’t come at first but after few seconds…

BOOM!

The starship above cracks and breaks apart. Wreckage hails down onto the city, causing further destruction. Dmase notices that enemy forces are retreating from the imminent doom. He better do the same. Getting up on his tired legs, the master runs and runs, leaving the city. Fortunately he finds a dip in the land to go into, in where an rock arch acts as a roof, a tiny shelter for him to hide from the raining hull. Soon afterwards a great shudder forces him back, hitting his head against the ground. Becoming unconscious.

—

Once he woke, he realised the slab of debris over the dip he resided in. He was buried. Over time Dmase used his essence to de-materialise the pieces of broken bull, finally, he was free. From that day onward Dmase established an academy on Valyrone, became the first Blade-Master, founded his own form known as Jura-Vel (furious one arm in Soresuu tongue) a single-handed stance, taught numerous aspiring Blade-Masters of the time and protected this planet until his dying breath.

See the other Dragon Origin stories: THE TEMPERED FURY and THE INVISIBLE MIST

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