Chapter 2: A Dragon’s Beginning

I awoke to a faint rocking sensation, like someone was gently shaking me awake. I blinked away the haziness of sleep, yawning, and stretching within the metallic egg-shaped vessel that was my ride into this world.

The rumbles were faint, barely detectable through the walls of my makeshift 'spacecraft', but clearly heard if I held my breath and listened.

I'd arrived with a glorious crash landing, and my vessel had survived the impact with the planet's surface, seemingly without a single scratch. I'd have been more surprised if it HAD shattered. Raw Dragonite doesn't boast the same properties as Refined Dragonite, but it's still the most durable metal on Elderia. It's also the most valuable... and I was encased in enough of it to craft a dozen sets of plate armor.

The only problem is, I'm stuck inside. I scratch my chin, shrug, and cocked back my fist.

* * *

How many centuries have I waited, alone, shrouded in darkness? I have yearned to be used, to be of use to my Master, but no matter how long I languish, none come to claim me.

3,781 long years I have waited, but no more! The day has finally come! Three Dragonfalls I have been witness to, three eras come and gone, and as I bear witness to the turn of the wheel once more, my desperation gives way to a Wish.

'Oh, Greater Dragon, I ask this of you. Unite me with my true owner, my Master!'

It is done. No matter the price, I would gladly pay it, if only my loneliness would be cured. To be whisked away from this cold, dark monastery is worth-

A shiver runs down my spine as a presence washes over me, the presence of a supremely powerful entity fills the monastery, chasing away the suffocating environment, and bathing the cold stone in his wondrous warmth.

'Has my wish been granted!? Am I-'

My thoughts are cut short as a tidal wave of raw power settles upon my shoulders, shrouding me in it's majesty.

Never before have I felt so comfortable, so content, so safe. I cannot help but weep as I know in my heart that my prayers have been answered, and I will finally meet the One.

* * *

I eventually manage to free myself of my own personal hell, but not without shedding a not-insignificant amount of blood, sweat, and tears. And if the world never learns of my minor mental breakdown, thinking that I'll never escape a big metal egg, then that would be just fine.

I was greeted with the sight of a smoldering crater. The impact was pretty exciting from the looks of things, but I had only felt the slightest vibration on the inside.

My eyes fell back on the... mostly intact egg of raw Dragonite. The stuff was supposed to be exorbitantly rare and expensive beyond imagining. I placed my palm upon the miniature mountain of gold, and focused, willing it to vanish.

Having never used Magic before, the feat I wanted to accomplish should have been impossible, but the Spell I needed was engraved into my Soul, and the knowledge of it branded into my Mind. With all the ease of breathing, I rent open Time and Space, accessing my [Pocket Dimension], one of a dozen Spells I'd sacrificed my Potential to acquire.

Spells on Elderia are categorized into Tiers, of which there are three 'official' Tiers, and two 'unofficial' Tiers. Spellcasters gain titles based on the highest Tier of Magic they can successfully cast, even if it's only a single spell. Those who can cast 1st Tier Spells are recognized as Adepts, those of the 2nd Tier as Mages, and those of the vaunted 3rd Tier as Archmages. Only 10 Humanoids across the Four Continents have achieved the status of Archmage.

With the amount of Mana required to fuel a 3rd Tier Spell, it would be nigh-impossible to conceal, not without hours of preparatory work, time that I simply don't have.

With my enhanced Perception, I can see the Mana gathering, swirling, and coalescing into a single point in space. It forms a singularity, and for the briefest moment, does nothing. Until suddenly, it vanishes, taking with it every ounce of Raw Dragonite that made up the shell.

This all happens in a split second, almost too fast to perceive, and I can't help but smile at having achieved something that only as many people as I have fingers could.

There is a sense of melancholy in the back of my Mind. The sense that using Magic this way is unfulfilling, that the lack of effort required makes it unrewarding, but it fades, overwhelmed by the sheer excitement, joy, and wonder I feel.

I gathered the scraps of Raw Dragonite I'd broken away from the original egg in my effort to free myself, storing them inside my Pocket Dimension with greater ease than before. The first cast of the Spell required me to create the dimension itself, rather than accessing one that previously existed, which is what I could do now.

I didn't even sense the new arrival, nearly jumping in fright at the sound of her voice asking, "Are you my Master?"

* * *

I watched the Greater Dragon's descent following my forced teleportation. The shell was ablaze as it plummeted through the atmosphere, and the collision with the earth was violent, cratering the land, and producing a cacophony of rumbling vibrations that was surely felt for countless miles.

I hastened to the site of His landing, and waited. I was ever so patient, a trait I'd acquired long ago awaiting the One. Fortunately, my wait was short-lived as a low-pitched ring resounded. The source was, of course, the Dragonite egg from which He would grace the world with His presence.

The ringing of metal continued, accompanying His egg shifting ever so slightly. After several long minutes, finally, He emerged, powerfully shattering His shell of Dragonite.

He appeared Human, but He was undeniably a Greater Dragon. Even had I not watched Him break free of His shell, I would not have mistaken him for a mere Mortal. One who has stood in the presence of such entities would never forget the feeling of their Aura.

I watched the young Greater Dragon climb free, inwardly finding amusement in his immaturity. I have never before met a being of such power at such a young age, but I always foolishly imagined that even from a young age, they would have been majestic and... stuffy.

I banished such thoughts as His hand fell upon the broken shell, and a second later my eyes widened as it vanished.

Even I, secluded as I was, am aware of how valuable that amount of Raw Dragonite is. The people of this continent will be quite disappointed to find it has disappeared into thin air.

I watched the young, greedy, Greater Dragon collect every scrap of Raw Dragonite that had once been part of a whole.

I waited, approaching only once He was finished, and asked, already knowing the answer, "Are you my Master?"

* * *

Following the second Dragonfall, the legendary swordsmith Minato Matsumoto crafted his magnum opus, 12 Dragonite swords, each forged from a different type of Dragonite. The swords were imbued with artificial souls, granting the swords sentience and greater power than any other sword in existence.

Fuji is the Energyforged Dragonite sword. She has been locked away in a secluded monastery since her creation as it was foretold that her true owner will have dragon's blood flowing through their veins, and they would meet during a Dragonfall.

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The eastern woman, with hair like silken midnight, and a curvaceous body kneeling before me is Fuji. Of all the wishes I heard, hers stuck out from the crowd. She wanted nothing more than to finally meet her Master.

The sad part is, whoever 'foretold' that she was fated for a specific person, had lied. I can't imagine what nearly 4,000 years of solitary confinement would do to one's mental state, nor how much worse it could be made if one learned it was all for naught.

I took pity on Fuji, and decided that I would be her 'Fated One'.

"Rise, Fuji." I help her stand, almost forcing her up out of the ashen ground. "I will be your Master, if you would have me."

Her hands grasp mine, refusing to let go as she begins to tremble. Her head is still lowered, her hair obscuring her face, but the sniffles and the shaking of her shoulders make her emotions abundantly clear. Eventually, she does raise her head, displaying tears of joy as she declares, "I'm so happy. I have waited so long, so very long."

"Then let us not wait a moment longer." I tell her, a hint of confusion slipping into her joyful expression. Her confusion lasting only a moment as my Mana stirred, and I cast yet the 3rd Tier Spell [Soulbind Item].

Fuji gasped as the powerful Magic enveloped her. In my vision, she appeared to be swathed from head to toe in transparent strings of violet. These strings then stretched, connecting the two of us together.

The event was unique, owing to Fuji being both the sword, and the artificial spirit inhabiting it. She may be able to take the appearance of a Humanoid, but in the end Fuji is still a sword, sentient or not.

An unbreakable bond had been forged, one that not even Death could sever.

Fuji's form reverted, and thanks to our bond, I understood she had temporarily fallen 'dormant'. Apparently, it requires a lot of energy to maintain her Humanoid form. I'll be on my own again while she recovers.

I held Fuji in my right hand as I bent both knees, before kicking powerfully off the ground, launching myself tens of meters in a single bound. For a second, I experienced pure joy as I sailed through the air, the wind caressing my face and blowing through my hair. For only a moment, I felt what it must be like to fly, only for the moment to pass as my feet met solid ground once more.

Bit of a shame that I'll never know what it's like to fly on wings of my own, but sacrifices needed to be made. 'Speaking of shame.' I think, looking down.

Like all newborns, I was buck naked. Yet, I hadn't felt a lick of shame during my short meeting and talk with Fuji. 'What's there to be ashamed of?' I thought, inspecting my new physique. Still, I should probably get dressed if I don't want to case any issues in civilized society.

"I wonder if there are any nudist societies?" I mumble to myself as I begin my walk through the forest, away from the massive crater that is my landing site.

In the end, I'd elected to fall on the continent of Andor, specifically on the southern landmass - Cendor. Perhaps this was yet another reason that Malgoroth sought a Pact with me, being perfectly positioned to carry out his request.

Considering what I know of the two lands, sparking a war shouldn't be terribly difficult. The Humans of Anduvia enslave those who are free in Cendor. That alone wouldn't be enough to gain support for a war between two super-powers, but what would happen were I to support one side? Balance between the two would collapse, and a revolutionary war might begin to take shape.

"Hmm." I rub my chin in thought. Of course that might be the match that sparks the flame, but wars are rarely fought for a single reason. America started many wars, primarily over resources that were disguised as liberation efforts. The war would be fought for liberty, territory, and resources.

Though, if I gave Cendor my support, they wouldn't turn to Malgoroth which is one of the reasons he desires the war in the first place. Decisions, decisions.

'I'll figure it out later.' I think to myself as I come upon an interesting situation.

"Shit, shit, shit!" A Human man in his late-twenties to earlier-thirties sat leaning against a tree, cursing as he desperately attempts to stem the bleeding from a wound in his abdomen.

"You're not looking too good there, friend." I speak up, causing the man to jump, stumbling to his feet, still clutching the wound with one hand whilst the other points a trembling sword in my direction. "Calm down. If I wanted you dead, you already would be." I raise my free hand, arcs of electricity dancing between my fingers.

The display doesn't help, rather the man's eyes begin to look for possible paths of escape. I lower my hand slowly, taking care not to spook him, and say, "I can heal you." He's still not listening, but at this point it no longer matters.

His sword slips out of his grasp first, and then he collapses backwards, sliding against the tree until his ass meets the forest floor, winding up as an undignified lump. He's incredibly pale, obviously having lost a significant amount of blood. He's definitely earned my respect of refusing to give up until the very last moment.

In fact, he's still trying to fight as I walk towards him, reaching for his sword that's just out of reach.

I peel his hand away from the wound to get a look at it, and grimace. It's brutal, whatever did this hadn't cut or stabbed him, but had shredded his flesh like a serrated blade, tearing away about six inches of meat along the left side of his gut.

My hand hovered just above the wound, and I cast a 1st Tier [Heal]. He moans as my Spell washes over him, granting him relief. I take a second to watch my Spell work, finding morbid curiosity in how his flesh almost wiggles, and the edges of the wound slowly knit themselves back together.

"You should be-" I start to say, before noticing the man had finally fallen unconscious. I shake my head as I grab his pack, and start to rifle through his belongings.

Fortunately, he packed a spare set of clothing which I took as payment for saving his life. I'd say that's pretty cheap.

Once dressed in some unflattering linens, I left the man to his fate. If he dies now, even after I saved his life once, then it's just his destiny.

* * *

===Author's Note===

We meet Fuji, and get a bit of her perspective before beginning our journey.

I have a rough plot outline, things I'd like to explore, and pieces of the TokHaar Gol's CYOA I'd like to bring to life, but I'm not quite sure how it will all get there.

Leave a comment, tell me what you think.

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