A New Kingdom to Rule

Sarcasm and the Secret

"Your highness, Kats not here, he and Kiri are off somewhere else."

"Well yes. I assumed with them not being here that they'd be somewhere else."

Shoto couldn't help but snap back. Shaking his head he cleared the sarcasm and harshness away almost immediately after the words had snapped from his tongue.

"Woah! Your majesty didn't know you had it in you!"

Sero teased hiding a chuckle.

"I'm sorry but I don't know where they are right now. Have you checked around the village?"

"Yeah, okay well If you see them tell them it's urgent we talk."

Sero nodded picking up a few sticks from the ground in front of him. Acting as though that was his reasoning for being out in the field and not stopping until the King had cantered off back towards the village. Only then did he halt and looked up, blowing out a long anxious breath that he had been gathering from the start. With it, he let his false personality escape, using his palms to slick his glossed hair back from his face so he could sink back into his true self. Waiting until the coast was clear, he stretched his neck forward hearing his spine and shoulders click with relief. A shiver ran over his whole body until his skin had prickled, changing into the smooth leather-like material. He shook his shoulders out, straining to complete the change. Sero was no longer a young man with black straight hair and baggy cream clothes. Instead stood on all fours was a slender black dragon with a golden gleam, no more than eight feet tall from head to claw. His body elegantly lanky like a snake with a slim face, small eyes and a thin line where his mouth hid.

No one had on record that he was to be a dragon- after all physically it shouldn't have been possible. The last two generations of his family had dormant genes which prevented them from transforming, and with most youngsters transforming by the time they reached five, he had assumed that now being in his twenties he wasn't going to change either. He had come to accept it even.
Thus was given the honour to be trained to be a dragon rider; training with The Great Shadow-Dragon Aizawa himself, following in his fathers footsteps- it had made his family immensely proud of him. Sero had become quite the respected young rider, and a great mentor to the younglings who would turn to him for protection whilst out learning to fly in the fields. Looking up to him as the big brother of the clan.

That was until two weeks ago. Where out of the blue one night he had felt so stiff that he cried out in pain. Barely being able to move he had tried to stretch his body to do anything for relief. However instead his body had shaken away its human form and there led in his bed, in it's place was a snake-dragon. The past two weeks had been incredibly difficult to hide his transformations, causing him to have to quickly run off unexpectedly to relieve the ache to change. His change had happened so suddenly that his body wasn't given time to prepare through puberty like everyone else where his dragon form grew with him, where the change wouldn't be as powerful or painful. Instead he had to deal with it all in one go. It was making him change in more ways than one, and he often wondered how long it would take before someone would notice.
Fearing he would disappoint his family and his teacher he decided it best to keep the recent development as a secret- at least until he could get a better understanding to why it had happened, and why now of all times with the ceremony being so close. This would be troublesome, the ceremonial law decreed that every suitable dragon should be mated and paired to continue the lineage and help their population. For him this meant that he was expected to get a dragon mate and not the human mate he had been hoping for; in particular that of a female rider he had hoped to win the affection of, a certain pink-haired bubbly scout.

The real reason he had come out to the fields before the youngsters was so that he could practise his flying in secret away from prying eyes. If he was going to be a dragon, he was at least going to try and be good at it and control it.

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It was a cold and sluggish sort of evening. Not an inch of azure to be seen in the sky.  They greying of the clouds covering all in a moody dullness. Sounds of pestering seagulls squawking for scraps could be heard amongst the chattering of the harbors people. It was loud, always so loud and busy. The noise had woken Kirishima up from his sleep which he assumed the exhaustion from fighting had caused. He cursed at himself for allowing it to happen again.
Looking up, a little hole of light showed the top of the bag, he readjusted himself to poke his head out through it. Nope he definitely wasn't on the shoulder of some ruffian now. Instead he was in the harbour, and in particular on a boat along with several other rucksacks left in a corner. Kirishima gulped, he hoped that if there were others in the sacks that they were just still sleeping.
A hundred and thirty feet long, and fifteen feet wide. The boat was narrow, slender, and scarcely rising above the level of the sea, she resembled an immense black serpent, sleeping in the midst of the waves- she was a dark beauty. Her bow was graceful, a pure work of art that ensured everyone would have a chance to admire her. While at harbor her sails remained tied to the masts secured in a way that no man himself could un-solve without the help of a quirk, or maybe a God.
Wriggling about Kiri tried to move to free himself but failed. It had seemed his capturers had taken advantage of him whilst he was asleep. Both his wrists and ankles had been bound together in chains, and fresh gauzes were in place on his thighs. He winced as he moved them. Fresh wounds were hidden, what kind? He wasn't sure; too much adrenaline had started pumping through his body now making him unable to feel any of the pain.
Taking the opportunity and without a second thought Kirishima transformed his head giving off a bellowing growl. Nearby sailors and harbours people quickly fell to the knees and scrambled to cover their ears. The ships canons started to jitter from the sudden vibration. It wasn't his typical call. This one was a desperation call. A cry if you will for help. For his rider to help.
Putting every last bit of his energy into the roar Kirishima lifted his head and let another go. Despair shaking in his throat.

"Ugh, I've had enough. Shut your trap and sleep!"

There was that voice again. That hypnotic voice that lulled him with its command until his body had been forced to shut down and sleep once more. His head changed back to his human form as he went deeper into his slumber.
Hours passed on, ships had set sail and the black serpent had taken Kiri along with it. They'd reached the middle of the ocean, where without any warning there was total darkness the clouds thick and heavy, blotting out the half moon and twinkling of stars.  The harsh wind had snapped the waves into moving death traps for those adventurers willing to ride them.  This morphed the waves into angry mountains that dwarfed the vessel.  That night the mighty ship had been made vulnerable and tossed about the sea like a mere child's toy.  There was no mercy in the wind that night, and no grace in the waves.  The morning after would see them bobbing on placid water or else a few more lost souls at sea amidst a broken boat if they were lucky enough to receive that.  No longer would the men chant their songs and be merry. Now all that was heard were cries and shouts of commandment. 

The wind had been harsh on everyone but the pull on the masts was even harsher, causing the material to stretch to it's final resort and rip in places that weren't as strong.
The sky crackled and soon lightning was hitting into the waves, electrifying the Sea.  Thunder trundled off the sky and gave the crew an impending doom feeling that a true sailor knows all too well.  The wind no longer howled- it screamed, the rain wasn't a pitter patter- it was merciless torrential rain, the boat didn't just creek it moaned and bended as it's boards were torn away. Shipmen were thrown about into the boards on the adjacent sides in a hefty wet shove. Threatening them to go back to their posts so that the devilish waves could crash into the boat and beat at them again.  Kiri was left on the bottom deck, bag tied by chain to the nearest post, still asleep in his forced slumber. He was either incredibly lucky, or incredibly unlucky.
The lightning ripped the sky in half and caused the crew to wince as the rain brought its drops like ice that stung their skin.  It continued on until the early hours showing the fury of the Gods. It was minus 8 Celsius with the wind chill subtracting another five.  The avalanches of water smashing into the boat, wave after wave.  In time with the heartbeat of the sea.
Boom Boom Boom

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