Chapter 2: Enter Daragon
“I’m so bored.” Daragon groaned, lying in bed. Daragon had white porcelain skin and crimson red eyes. Both Daragon and Draken have black hair. However, Draken's as he looked at his wrist. On it was a white watch which displayed the time. He swiped the watch as it showed Draken and his vitals along with directions to his location and a distance gauge. Daragon remembered Draken got him the device for his birthday before he left to fight in the war. “Maybe I should apologise…”
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Approximately 3 days ago.
“Come on Daragon, don’t be like this.” Draken pleaded. Daragon refused to open his door. Daragon and Draken were sitting on opposite ends of the door. Symmetrical in nature yet juxtaposing each other. A Maid watching over their argument.
“No! I want to go out!” Daragon yelled with rage. Draken sighed as he turned the side of his head to the door.
“Then ask Tom to go with you. I'm sure he'll be happy to.” Draken tried persuading Daragon. However, this further angered him. Daragon stood up and slammed onto the locked door creating a loud bang.
“Not this again! I want to go explore with you! Every single time you always go out to war! Why are you still fighting? It’s none of your concern!” Daragon reasoned to which Draken looked down.
“But I have to go to-“
“You VOLUNTEERED!” Daragon cut off Draken who was still talking. “One day you’re going to die in the line of duty! And for what? That death isn’t going to mean anything. Lots of people die in war. You’re going to be a statistical normality!”
Draken looked out the window which shone on the window from his side and sighed again. He stood up and turned to the door.
“It might not mean much, but it could also mean a lot. If I enlist, one less person is subjected to war. One less person can die. One less tragedy." The red haired maid signalled something to Draken. "Daragon, I have to go now. My ride's here."
“In the end the amount that dies is still the same!” Daragon kicks the door before it bursts open. He got up gracefully immediately after falling. “Aisha, tell Tom the door broke again.”
The maid, Aisha, leaves quickly to inform their head butler, Tom.
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“I want to go out!” Daragon moaned while lying in bed. He knew Tom and the other maids would never let him go out. After all, he is the heir to the Eccel family fortune. While being a Baron family, both his parents were extraordinary. One was a prestigious Knight and the other, an incredible sage. Both tragically passed away in the Strait Of Malacca War.
“I know I wasn’t really close to you but you’d think I would have inherited at least one of your great skills.” Daragon talked to himself while lying down, looking up at his ceiling with both arms behind his head.
Tick Tock. The Clock in his room went. He still owned an analog clock, somehow. His books sit there collecting dust. All of which have not been touched in years. Textbooks on History and Theory. Separated by another bookshelf full of fictional stories, most being comics.
As Daragon continued to stare at the ceiling, whittling his time away, an idea shot to him. It may have been reckless but he was going to do it. Escape himself. Normally, he wouldn’t have done something like this, mostly because he couldn’t. But this was a special occasion. Draken was out and Tom was buying groceries. The Head Maid, Aisha, called in sick. Those three were the only ones who could stop Daragon.
He grabbed a rope from under his bed which he bought to test out a theory on Wave Magic. The rope was still strong enough to support him. He packed a bag filled with his books, necessities and money. Daragon moved to the window, gazing at the starry night once more. He took a deep breath, looking downwards. He was located on the third story so he wouldn’t die but he would hurt himself if he wasn’t careful. This was it.
He attached the rope and tied it to his bed and stood on the window frame. He jumped out and luckily, he didn’t fall. However, he made a fatal mistake. He looked down. And just like that, he panicked for a second, allowing the rope to slip from his hand and falling. A loud thud was heard.
“Ow- Ah” Daragon groaned in pain. He tried moving, hurting himself more. He looked to his left when he heard his name being called. A man in a black hood and red hair stood there, Relic. What caught Daragon's eyes the most was the redhead’s Katana though.
“Are you… Daragon?” He asked. Daragon blinked and then tried to get up, groaning on the way up. He broke a bone or two but it was something he was used to. Besides, a fracture only takes about a day for the average human to recover from due to their advanced evolution thanks to Mana.
“Uh- No. I’m Tom. Daragon is upstairs.” Daragon lied through his teeth. Relic took out a picture and looked back at Daragon with an eyebrow raised.
“Are you now?” Relic asked sarcastically. Daragon sighed in disappointment. “What are you doing here anyways?”
“Depends. Who are you and what are you going to do if I tell you?” Daragon shot a question back, acting cautiously.
“Draken asked me to babysit you until he came back since your butler, I mean you, ‘Tom’, is going on vacation.” Relic gestured his fingers satirically. Daragon looked down in defeat.
‘Did Draken really hire a babysitter? I’m 15 for Ysgrad sake!’ Daragon thought to himself as he limped his broken arm and foot back to the Manor, ignoring Relic. “None of your business.”
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The next few days, Daragon tried his best to avoid Relic. At every turn, he tried to escape him but somehow Relic would always be there. The in-house library. The kitchen. His own room. Relic was dead set on keeping an eye on him.
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This time, he was sure he got rid of Relic. First he asked Aisha to stall him by any means necessary which she was willing to do. Now that Relic was gone, he went over to his tree house. Two words etched, Daragon’s Den. The first letter a striked out. After climbing up. He was at peace. The only things there were his bookcase, games, homemade stove and Relic.
‘Wait, what?’ Daragon thought as he saw the redhead taking a comic out of his bookcase.
“From your brother’s description, I didn’t take you as much of a comic guy. I thought you were more into historical stuff being a ‘young scholar’ and whatnot.” Relic remarked as Daragon turned around to leave. Before he could, a flash of lightning and thunderous booms appeared. It started raining heavily meaning that he was stuck here since he wasn’t about to walk all the way back in a thunderstorm.
“So… Cards?” Relic suggested as he held up some poker cards.
“Go fish yourself.” Daragon told him off as he sat in one corner, reading one of his books. Relic began stacking the cards into a house out of boredom.
“This is boring. Don’t you have any one player games? Since you’re being a pouty bitch and all.” Relic casually said as the house collapsed. Daragon raised an eye.
“My brother hired you? Someone that swears to take care of me? My god.” Daragon rolled his eyes in disbelief. Draken always had a no cuss policy and Daragon adhered to it. Mostly because he drilled it into him.
“And what’s wrong with swearing? Are you going to cry about it?” Relic asked ironically.
“Nothing. It just means that you lack a wider vocabulary. The requirement to utilize swear words simply insinuates your primal thought process.” Daragon changed his tune almost instantly, showing off his vocabulary prowess.
“馬鹿, 二, 백치.” (Baka, èr (Beijing Dialect), baegchi) Relic told Daragon.
“Did you just call me an idiot?” Daragon said, only understanding the second one which was spoken in chinese.
“Actually, I called you an idiot 3 times. One in Japanese, Chinese and Korean. I’m surprised you know the Beijing Dialect.” Relic answered.
“I went to the Union of Chinese Socialist Republics before.” Daragon said. The UCSR is a country formed by the Chinese after revolting and declaring the frontrunner of Communism within the War on Communism on the Asian frontier.
“Reciting the full name. Is that supposed to impress me?” Relic asked as Daragon shrugged. “Alright Daragon. If you beat me in a Poker, I’ll tell you the real reason why your brother hired me.”
“Deal.” Daragon replied immediately with excitement. What Relic didn’t know was that Daragon was an avid player of poker and had always beaten Draken. Daragon could remember and retain information easier than most. Probability was his strong point… or so he thought.
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“I won again! Too easy.” Relic said smugly. “What happened to your confidence?”
While Daragon could count, he was playing against a single person, which meant it wasn’t as effective. And he also had an easy to read face. It was most likely that Draken let his brother win to make him happy. Daragon had lost.
“That’s not fair-” Daragon was interrupted by a loud boom. The sky cleared up and the sun was about to set. “Damn it.”
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After a couple of hours, the two sat on a couch. While Daragon read his comic book, Relic was drinking from his can. All the maids were currently sleeping since it was midnight. Around 11PM. Daragon eyed Relic while pretending to read his book. The can was a beer can and Relic reeked of the smell. Daragon snuggled in a bit more due to the cold weather.
“Hey, you want some?” Relic asked. Daragon was shocked Relic noticed him watching but quickly shook his head.
“I’m underaged. Not to mention Draken would kill me if he found out.” Daragon replied.
“Then don’t let him find out, I won’t tell. Besides, I was 11 when I first drank alcohol.” Relic answered as he grabbed a plastic cup and poured a can. He left the cup sitting there as Daragon continued to stare at it.
“I’m serious, Draken wouldn’t like it…” Daragon longly stared at the cup. Daragon had never gotten to drink beer before. Nobody in the manor drank it. Not the maids, Tom or Draken and Draken specifically banned Daragon from it... His curiosity peaked as Daragon grabbed the cup hastily, spilling some and chugging it down.
“Slow down. It’s not going anywhere.” Relic said but Daragon couldn’t hear him. He was too focused on the beer. It felt like his senses were heightened but lowered at the same time. He felt happy yet sad. The taste of the forbidden fruit was sweet.
“Shudap.” Daragon slurred on words as he put the cup down. He had low alcohol tolerance which was not surprising since he never drank any. He shook his cup as Relic poured him some more.
“So, now that you’re drunk, you mind telling me why you quit school?” Relic inquired. The letter Draken wrote mentioned how Daragon quit school despite being offered a scholarship and he hoped that Daragon would attend his final year.
“Wha? You wanna no ‘bout schul? (What? You want to know about school?)” Daragon answered as he drank more. “Girl.”
“Girl?” Relic repeated, asking for more information.
“Yea. They didn’t like me becuz I can’t do no magic.” Daragon’s words started becoming clearer. An improvement. His body was building a resistance to it quickly. “Y’know, Draken can be a reeeeaaal butthole.”
“Butthole?” Relic tried to hold back his laughter at Daragon’s cute anger.
“Yeah! The guy is so uptight! like actually calm the f down!” The Drunk Daragon says as he stands up. “Oh look at me. I love world peace and going to war.”
Relic snickers at Daragon’s impression of his brother. Daragon goes back to sit down.
“How old are you though?”
“Me? I’m 35.” Relic answered while drinking more beer.
“So you got kids?” Daragon questioned as Relic stopped for a moment. A knock on the door is heard. “Sheet. That might be Draken. Quick! Hide everything, I’ll go get the door.”
Daragon stood up, losing balance for a second. After regaining his equilibrium, he proceeded to the door and opened it. It was 2 men in uniform. A blonde with a scar on his neck and the other was a black haired with papers in hand. The first smelt the alcohol from Daragon.
“Hey, this kid reeks of alcohol.” The man says.
“Leave it alone. He’s already been through enough.
“Enough?” Daragon asked before the others gave him the papers and saluted.
“You haven’t heard? Your brother, Draken. He died.”