Dragons of the Elements: Ascension (Dragon of Legend Approved Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Five

Chapter Five: The Journey Begins

Kneeling there, staring at his mother's cold face, Donovan felt emotionless. He was torn to shreds, yet tears would not come; they refused to shed and provide him the comfort of crying. He kneeled there, looking at his mother's face, until Vitality grew restless. Nudging Donovan's now dirty, brown overcoat expectantly, Vitality pointed his tail in a general direction.

Turning away from the face, Donovan followed the path of the tail to see it leading off to nowhere. "There's nothing there." he whimpered. Refusing to give up, Vitality caught Donovan's jacket in his jaws and tried to drag Donovan in the direction he wanted.

"Follow his advice, Donny. Your Dragon always knows what's best." Mary said in between tears, as reassuring and adult-like as possible. "Just go that way. Go. I'll catch up."

"But.. What about mom?"

"That's why I'll catch up. She needs a proper burial, and what would she say if you, of all people, gave her one," she said, attempting to make a joke to lighten the mood, and failing miserably.

Donovan, determined to help, began to claw at an empty spot of ground. With no shovel, the work was ten times harder. Vitality, understanding Donovan wouldn't leave until this task was complete, dug his paws into the ground, moving small piles of dirt with each swipe. An hour later, they were finished, just as Mary completely uncovered her mother from the dirt and rubble.

She was a horrific sight. Her left leg was separated from the rest of her at the knee, and her right arm was twisted in such an unnatural way that the undead would be mortified.

"You're still here?? Scat!" was Mary's stern reply. In between gasping breaths to fuel her tears, Mary pushed Donovan towards the direction Vitality insisted in going.

Grabbing at his pants leg, Vitality willed Donovan to walk in the direction he wished. Resisting the urge to cry was extremely tough, but he somehow managed to do it. Staring at his draglin, he began to walk. Following Vitality's twisting path in between trees, Donovan arrived at a path. As he walked down the path, he clutched the newly formed sword, closing his fist so tightly around it that his knuckles shone white.

"Screeeech!" he heard Vitality whine from about twelve paces ahead, demanding Donovan hurry up. "Sure, whatever buddy." he managed to say.

Waiting ever so impatiently, Vitality watched as Donovan put one foot slowly in front of the other. Suddenly a wave of depression coursed through his body. Vitality let out a "Screeeech" in an attempt to combat this new emotion.

"C'mon bud. Let's keep going," he heard Donovan say. Cautiously, to avoid the horrid feeling from sneaking up and overtaking him again, he stumbled on.

+++++++++++

The sun had descended into the horizon, and the first few stars began to form in the night sky, when Donovan and Vitality felt a presence surrounding them. From the pitch black around them, they heard "HALT! Who goes there?" being shouted by a commanding male voice.

"That is so cliché," thought Donovan. "Just a teenage boy and his draglin. Who are you?" He responded. "And where are we?" he added, trying to figure out where this winding path was leading him.

"I'm a thief. And you're at the end of the road kid!" he heard as pressure appeared around his neck.

"Lemme go you no good-" he began to say as a hand covered his mouth. Biting down hard on the hand, Donovan felt the thief hit him in the head, and he fell, gashing his head on a stone.

"Aww, poor boy needs his mommy?" snorted the thief mockingly.

Emotions raged through Donovan. The recent loss of his mother caused the bottled up emotions to burst out. Still grasping the sword, he jumped up and swung with all his might. The thief easily ducked and stumbled backwards. Tripping, he landed on his back in a fit of rage.

"How dare you boy!" said the thief as he stood up and drew his dagger. "I was going to let you live but...."

He never got to finish his sentence, as Donovan swung his blade at the thief again. Diving to the ground near Donovan's feet, the thief swung his mid-size knife at Donovan's shins. Sliding his feet backwards at the same time, Donovan lost his balance and fell forward. Grasping the sword as to not lose it, the point faced towards the ground, Donovan fell in seemingly slow motion.

He watched as the blade slipped through the thief's back, through his spine and heart, and through the other side, getting lodged in the ground as he fell. He saw the blood spurt out from the wound, each heartbeat sending more in lessening amounts until no more came.

Staring horrifically at the corpse he created, Donovan attempted to pull the sword from the bloody man's back. Unable to do this while laying on the ground, he stood up slowly, in case the figure tried to lash out at him, and grasped the sword. He pulled it out of the body, exhausted. For the first time he noticed how heavy the weapon felt in his inexperienced hands.

Looking around, his eyes landed on Vitality, hiding away behind a rock. Holding his free hand out, Vitality scurried up his left arm and nested on his shoulders.

Donovan glanced back at the dead man, wondering if dreaming, and felt a wave of compassion. "I... I just... Is he... Dead?" he thought frantically. Mentally beating himself up over killing, Donovan thought "It wasn't on purpose. It was an accident. Yeah. I wouldn't have killed him... No, no I wouldn't have."

Vitality nipped Donovan on his ear and flapped his tiny wings expectantly, coaxing Donovan to continue. Donovan allowed himself one glance back at the man before walking in the direction Vitality directed.

Vitality curled up around Donovan's neck and quickly fell asleep. Donovan, on the other hand, kept walking, determined to at least be somewhere safe before he passed out from exhaustion.

+++++++++++

The weight of the sword was finally too much, and Donovan began to wish he no longer had to carry it. He wished with all the leftover energy he could muster up. Suddenly, his fist closed upon itself, the weight of the sword disappearing. Yet Donovan heard no *clatter* signaling that he dropped it.

He looked around hesitantly, yet he saw and heard only the common sounds you would hear on a trail at night: owls and the wind. Not a thing out of the ordinary. Not even Vitality seemed startled, He hadn't moved since he had fallen asleep, except to wind his tail back around Donovan's neck when it grew loose.

Donovan freaked. His eyes darted across the ground, ears listened for a sound that should not be. Yet he found nothing. He felt the urge to swing at something. He couldn't have lost his grandfather's sword!

He closed his eyes and balled his sword hand into a fist, and felt a pressure in between his fingers. He swung, and heard a heavy *thud* as a solid object slamming into a tree would make. Opening his eyes more out of fear than surprise, Donovan was delighted to see the sword, in his hand, devoid of any of the blood that gushed out onto it before.

Formulating a theory quickly, Donovan flexed his wrist and fingers, and let the rage in him subside. He watched in amazement as the sword shimmered before his vision a sparkling red, before disappearing.

Soon allowing the hidden feelings for his deceased mother to course through his veins, he felt the urge to swing again, and the sword returned in an identical show of lights.

Dumbfounded, Donovan continued the action until he found himself sitting under a tree, his eyelids closing as the sun began to show over the horizon, casting the shadow of a tall building across the path.

<Note: The sword appears and vanishes as Donovan's need seems fit. Hope this clears things up.>