The Black Shard

(Okay, eilaer and I are starting this RPG again, only this time, it'll be from the beginning so you guys can understand better what's going on. If you want to join, PM me, but if you don't, then you can just read or ignore. Alright, so here we go!)


Argyllus had had no intention of ever joining the upcoming war between the two dragon clans, the Falcarians (Light Ones in the dragon language) and the Tuskans (Dark Ones in the dragon language). In fact, the leader of the Tuskans himself, a dragon named Sven, had told the young dragon that, if he so wished, he didn't have to fight. Yet there he was on that stormy night, hovering in the air across from the Falcarian king's son, Daveth. Argyll had arrived just as the war started, and he was prepared to tell King Cailin the truth: that his own son, Daveth, had been finding sneaky ways to frame the Tuskans, just because of his own hate for them. However, Daveth had stopped him, and that's how they had ended up high in the sky, glaring at each other.

The many armored warriors of the two clans raged against each other below the two rivals, unaware of Argyll's arrival. He did not wear armor, for it slowed him down, and he had arrived too late to get some anyway. Thunder rumbled and lightning danced across the sky, and the powerful wind blew the cold rain all over the place, making it harder to see. But Argyll wasn't worried; he'd flown in many and even worse storms than this, despite him having no sight in his left eye.
In the dark light, his scales appeared pure black, but in reality, they were just a very dark brown. He had a total of six horns on his head; two large main ones, two medium-sized ones, and two rather small ones. He had golden-brown fur that almost nearly covered the whole left side of his face, and there was a tuft of fur between his two large horns that stood up straight. The rest of his fur went down to the end of his neck, almost like a horse's mane. Starting from the bit of fur sticking up, ivory spikes started and went down his back to where his tail began, which they then split into two that ran down the sides of his tail. Near the tip of his tail, where the spikes ended, was a pair of large fins that he used for balance, but mostly to help him stop more quickly. His wings were large and powerful, and their long wingspan (of about 40-45 ft.)was what really allowed him to fly faster and higher than any other dragon. His one visible emerald-green eye shone brightly in the storm, his slit pupil focused on his enemy.

Daveth, the Prince of the Falcarians, was a large dragon (about 18 ft. tall and 30 ft. long. Argyll, on the other hand, is only 9 ft. tall and about 20 ft. long) with shiny, orange-peel colored scales. Aside from his four large horns, spiked tail, large, tan wings, and sharp, ivory claws, Daveth was almost completely covered in the silver armor of the Falcarians. His golden eyes stared Argyll down from within his helmet, which covered at least the top part of his face.

"So, Skaliik, you have returned from your exile?"

Argyll's emerald-green eye narrowed at being called a Skaliik (which can either mean loner or betrayer in their language). "I have, Daveth, and your father shall soon learn what I have: the you used tricks to accuse us Tuskans of being foul and devilish dragons."

Daveth laughed. "Oh, really? And you think you can prove this? How? My father will trust me more than you."

"We'll see about that."

With a terrifying roar from Daveth and a snake-like hiss from Argyll, the two dragons lunged at each other, and their battle began.

Her life was a lie.

Hudlling in the corner, and catching her reflection in the full-length mirror across the room, Aoi Youko, known previously as Aoi Stone, frowned through her tears of betrayal. The reflection was that of a stranger. Instead of her mousy brown, flat, shoulder-length hair, what she saw was wild, silver hair with random black streaks that spilled across the floor. Instead of her soft, blue-grey eyes, what she saw were arched, silver eyes with slightly narrowed pupils. She had always been tall at 5'10", but it had been offset by her weight of around 300 pounds. But the body she saw was 6'5" and could only weigh no more than 200 pounds, even with the lean, toned muscle that covered it.

But the most eye-catching change was what she hated most. It made her even more of a freak than what the kids at school already considered her. Peeking out of her unkempt hair were a pair of silver fox ears that were tipped in black. Also, peeking out from under her lilac nightgown were two silver fox tails with black tips.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock at her bedroom door. "Honey, can I come in?"

Pulling her legs closer to her body, Aoi mumbled a quiet "If you must."

In walked a tall man, around 6'10", with black fox ears hidden in shaggy black hair, arched black eyes, and four black fox tails, wearing a dark grey cloak over what tooked like a dark green toga. Walking over to where his daughter sat, Kiba Youko, knelt down and put his hand on her shoulder.

"I know it's a lot to take in, but I know you can hand..." He was cut of by his irate daughter, who brushed the firm hand off her shoulder like it was nothing and stood up, glowering at him, fresh tears on her eyes.

"You know I can handle it!? How would you know!? You haven't spoken to me in 10 years! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!!!"

Argyll and Daveth were still locked in their fight within the angry sky, snarling and hissing as lightning illuminated their ferocius attacks.

The king’s son let out a snarl as a ball of electricity broke a bit of his armor while also creating a gash on the side of his neck. Argyllus, who was battle-scarred and bleeding, would’ve smiled if he could, but it just made his wounds hurt to even attempt to. The orange dragon aimed his spiked tail at his enemy’s face, and he made a scar that ran horizontally across Argyll’s left eye while also slicing off some fur in the process. The smaller dragon gritted his teeth in pain, but he barely even flinched. He was less worried about the pain than he was about that armor, which was frustrating him. Even though he discovered that his electricity could break through Daveth’s armor, Argyll knew that trying to use that to shave off all the armor to expose weak points was useless and would take too much time. Sure, he was possibly the fastest dragon in the history of the world of Celestia, and he was a great and powerful warrior, too. But when it came to armor, he knew that his usual disappearing tricks wouldn’t work.

As he and the Prince of the Falcarians continued their battle, he tried to gain a grip on his surroundings as well as study his enemy’s fighting style. Daveth was younger than Argyll, even though he was bigger, yet he’d certainly had a lot of experience. But as they fought, the dark brown dragon began to form a plan in his head. It was a brutal plan, but it was the best shot he had.

Now, he thought, if only there was some way to distract him…

Suddenly, a crow cawed as it flew out of the anger of the storm, making Daveth turn his head in confusion.

Argyll finally managed to smirk. Now’s my chance!

Just before his enemy turned back around, the odd dragon lunged towards Daveth and plunged his front claws into the dragon’s right eye, blinding him. Daveth recoiled in pain, and then let out a roar of anger as Argyll latched onto his right wing and, using his poisoned fangs, bit the arm part of the wing and snapped the bone within. The Prince’s cry attracted King Cailin’s attention, and he shoved Sven away and looked up to see his son falling out of the sky. He had barely any time to react as his son hit the ground with a thud, and Sven once again leaped onto him.

As Argyll dived down to the ground, he saw that his plan had worked; most of Daveth’s armor was either cracked or completely shattered, and his throat was also exposed. Thank you, Tara, he thought as he watched his crow partner fly away, her job said and done. The dragon then walked over to his wounded rival, his pitch-black pupils narrowed to slits. He placed one of his scaled paws on Daveth’s throat, threatening to kill if the orange dragon dared to get away.

“Listen to me, Daveth,” Argyll hissed. “You have to tell your father the truth before there’s more pointless bloodshed.”

“Why should I?” Daveth snapped. “It’s what my father wanted.”

“Are you sure? Last I heard he wanted to get rid of the Dark Ones.”

“Yes, exactly you idiot! I’m helping him get rid of you!”

“By framing us for something a group of Skaliiks called the Dark Ones did? There’s a difference between the dragon term and the human term, you dimwit.”

The orange dragon’s good eye slowly widened, finally realizing what he’d done wrong and why Argyll was mad at him. He was about to explain and apologize for his ignorance when his father, who had broken free of Sven’s grip, raced over and shoved Argyll to the ground, pinning the dark brown dragon down effortlessly with his two front paws.

“You exiled piece of shit! I told you to never come back, or I’d rip you to shreds!”

Kiba lowered his eyes at her accusation. "You're right. I regret doing that, but I needed to. You were in danger. There are people from our world that would love to kill you. I needed to protect you and the only way I could do that was to shield your memories and your abilities."

Aoi continued to glare at him, her hands fists at her sides. "You told me this. But why did I have to be LIED to? I was never able to have fun. Mom said that any use of my imagination was detrimental to any sort of healthy life."

Kiba narrowed his eyes. "See, that's where you and I agree. She should NOT have gone so far."

Sven noticed who had returned, and he was about to go to Argyll’s aid when a voice roared, “STOP!”

Immediately, all the battling dragons halted their attacks, and looked over at the source of the order. The King, who’d had his teeth bared in preparation to kill Argyll, also stopped, and he and his enemy looked over at Daveth. The young dragon had stood, and his one unbroken wing was slightly spread in a dominant position.

“Just stop! Everyone, I’m sorry.” He then folded in his wing, and, looking at everyone, shook his head in an attempt to fight back the tears. “I framed the Tuskans! They really didn’t do anything! I blamed the wrong Dark Ones!”

All the warriors seemed to gasp, and they began to talk amongst themselves and apologise. Cailin let go of Argyll, who stood and shook the mud and blood off of his scales, and walked over to his son.

“Daveth? Is this true?” At the young dragon’s nod, he turned to Argyll, who dipped his head as the King said, “Then you were right, Scorpion, and I am sorry.”

“No need to apologise, Your Highness. I’m just glad it was proven before anyone died.”

Cailin nodded in agreement, then turned back to Daveth. “My son, we have a lot to talk about.”

Daveth lowered his head, but seemed to smile in relief. “Yes sir.”

The King then turned to Sven, who had come over to welcome Argyll back home. “My friend, I’m-“

“No, don’t. All I need to know is if we are allies or not.”

The older warrior walked over to the two-winged, two-legged dragon, and dipped his head. Sven did the same, and then the other dragons cheered. Argyll and Daveth looked at each other and smiled, happy it was over. As the sky began to clear, Cailin rounded up his warriors and headed back to the land of Falcar, and Sven ordered his army to head back to their home of Tusk. He then looked at Argyll.

“Are you coming back with us?”

Argyll shook his head. “No, not now. But I promise I will visit again, when I feel I can handle the pressure of being amongst a clan again.”

Sven nodded, and spread his wings. “I hope that won’t be too long. But I shall let Kiwi know. She’s been worried about you since you were exiled.”

“I’m sure,” the dark brown dragon growled as his older brother figure took to the skies and followed his warriors home. Argyll looked around the battlefield, blood and many bits and pieces of armor on the ground. The place was practically a barren wasteland, with only a few patches of grass here and there. He then sighed and sat down, using his inner dragon powers to heal his wounds, and then realised that the one going horizontally across his left eye wouldn’t heal.

“Great, there’s another permanent scar for my collection,” he muttered to himself. He then sighed, exhausted from the fight, and then stood. With a great flap of his mighty wings, Argyll pushed himself upwards towards the sky, and then began to head towards a nearby lake.

"You mean you meant for her to keep me in the dark? You...you bastard!" She pushed him to the side and ran out of her room, heading for the stairs.

When she was almost to the front door, her mom stepped out of the living room, hands on her hips and lips pursed. "And where do you think you're going young lady?"

Aoi froze for a second, seeing her mom, but rage fought its way forward. With a yell, she sent out a wall of air, pushing Deborah Stone onto the couch behind her. Horrified at what she did, she tore out the front door and into the rainy night, running towards the woods at the edge of town.

As he landed near the large body of water, Argyllus took in a deep breath. He didn't know what it was with him and water, as well as storms, but he loved the smell of both. However, it struck him odd that his element wasn't water, but he just shrugged it off.

Can't always choose your elements. Besides, electricity and water are somewhat connected, he though, chuckling to himself.

Then, with a great leap, he dove into the lake, letting the water soak into his thick scales and provide comfort to his wounds. This was always his favorite way to cleanse himself of the blood of battle, whether it stung or not.