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

Chapter Eight

Chapter 8: Armor-Ment

Donovan gasped in wonder at the luxurious room in front of him. A wooden bed frame sat in the corner, a mattress with beautifully crafted red and gold sheets adorning it above it. One of the two pillows the same color red, the other an identical gold. Next to the bed, along the wall, was a large dresser, able to hold whatever he pleased. A single window dotted the wall. At the foot of his bed lay a trunk.

Donovan leaned over and opened the trunk. Inside it lay a handcrafted sheath, a sword handle poking out from the end of it. Donovan tugged at the red and gold handle to see a sharp, dangerous Katana-like sword with a word written at the base, where it met the hand guard. He glared at the word, until realizing it said, in capital letters, the word "FIRE". He turned, to ask Brandi what it meant, only to see her walking out of the room.

"Brandi! Wait! What does this mean?" he said, raising his voice so it would not be heard around the academy but only by Brandi.

"Tomorrow, tomorrow you will learn the legend. Now rest newbie," she responded. "Trust me, you'll need the energy."

Brandi walked out, and Donovan closed the door behind her. In his large room, he began experimenting with his new toy. He unsheathed it, and held it carefully. He twirled and swung, clumsily. The sword felt perfectly balanced, and was extremely light.

An idea soon struck him. He moved the Katana to his left hand, and allowed his deadly sword to form in his right. He no longer needed to channel energy or emotions, the formation seemed natural now, sub-consciencely done. The two swords felt perfect, but he could immediately tell it was not his style of fighting, for the weight distribution was wrong.

Sticking true to his grandfather's tradition, Donovan felt the urge to name the swords. "First, the disappearing one," he thought. "Infernus" he decided, a maniacal grin appearing. He looked to his left hand, at the thin, light Katana. "Singe" he thought. "Yes, Singe and Infernus are suitable names for these blades."

Donovan replaced Singe in its sheath and let Infernus disappear. He lay on his bed, exhausted from the day, and drifted off to sleep.

+++++++

Donovan awoke with the sound of knocking.

*Thump Thump Thump*

He ignored it, half asleep, hoping it would go away.

*Thump Thump Thump*

"Open up, it's time to get you situated within the academy!" Donovan heard a male voice say. He rose and crawled over to the door, opening it slightly so he could see who it is.

"Hi, Marty. What am I needed for?" Donovan said, still dazed.

"Armor fitting, Dragon communications class, and basic swordplay. Brandi wanted me to accompany you throughout the day to help you find your way."

"Whatever, can I sleep now?" Donovan replied bluntly.

"Nope!" Marty yelled as he pulled Donovan's wrist and dragged him out of the room.

Marty dragged Donovan directly to the lift. Donovan began to sweat. "I hate the lift! No! Marty!" he yelled. He put all his weight in his feet to stop Marty from pulling him into the lift.

"Fine then, take the stairs to the 20th floor. I'll meet you there," came Marty's quick response.

And Donovan set off towards his newest companion, the stairs.

+++++++

Donovan arrived at the 20th floor, sweating from the many flights. He looked for a few seconds, then saw Marty, waiting for him, nearly asleep on the academy floor.

"Took you long enough. Why can't you just take the lift like everyone else?" he asked.

"Whatever, Marty. Where do I need to go?" Donovan sneered sarcastically

"Follow me. Memorize where we are going." Marty said, unfazed.

Donovan followed Marty down the hall and arrived at a large open room. It shone with clothes and armor and helmets and swords. The windows and candles made the room glitter with life and colors.

Despite the beauty, Donovan looked through the room and yawned, unchanged by the amazing room.

Amid his apparent boredom, Marty disappeared into the hallway. Donovan walked the room, waiting for someone to approach him.

Before long, he confronted a woman, who couldn't have been over 25 summers, with wavy brown hair and deep brown eyes. Her tanned skin accented her eyes perfectly.

She looked at him for a second, seeming lost, before her eyes made a swift jerking motion and she squealed. "Oh gosh you must be the new student, one of the legends!" she said, clearly excited.

"Umm... I guess?" he said, confused.

"Follow me so I can measure you for your armor. I have a few pre-made sections but I'll need to combine the sections that fit you. Stand still now. Oh by the way I'm Sheila." she said as she held plain white fabric up to Donovan's arms and waist.

She held several up to him before finding the right sizes. "Perfect!" she exclaimed. "I have these sizes pre-made! Just wait outside for a minute while I fix it together. Please please?" begged Sheila.

"All... Alright?" stuttered Donovan, still new to the experience of being fitted for clothes, as he bought generic, oversized clothing every time he had needed clothes.

He stood outside the room for a few moments and saw Marty give him an expecting look, before he felt arms dragging at his shirt, bringing him back into the room.

Sheila giggled and jumped up and down, as she dragged Donovan into the center of the room. He waited for about a minute as she disappeared into the crevices of the room, returning with an object under a drape.

"This, is your armor. It's made of reaper metal. Amazing stuff. Try it on!" Sheila said as she uncovered the outfit.

All Donovan could do was stare.

The beautifully handcrafted material showed absolutely no errors, as if the creator had been gifted a divine skill for the sole purpose of creating his armor. The dazzling, rich, smoked red was perfect balanced with a smoked yellow color identical to Vitality's. It was not gold, but a fizzly orange-yellow, identical to fire.

The only thing to come with it was a helmet of identical colors. The mind-boggling similarity to Vitality's true colors baffled Donovan. The colors, added to the tribal flow of them on the helmet, leave him speechless, with his mouth hanging wide open, to a satisfied Sheila.

"I see you like it?" she questioned rhetorically.

"It's the most beautiful piece of artwork I've ever seen." Donovan answered, still gazing in wonder.

"Now try it on, go go go," Sheila said as she rushed him to a hanging curtain and pushed him behind it.

Donovan quickly changed, and noticed how comfortable and perfect the getup actually was. Returning to the center of the room, to Sheila's critical eye, he felt foolish. He looked out-of-place in a well made, obviously expensive, outfit. Yet it somehow felt right, as if it were meant to be this way. As if he were meant to wear this.

He dismissed his wild thoughts, and let Sheila decide if it needed alterations. "It looks perfect!" she said. Donovan walked to a mirror, only to see a costumed man, dressed in a luxurious outfit, and soon lost all feelings of displacement in awe.

In the middle if the self adoration, an easily recognizable voice emanated in his head. "If you think you look good, boy are you gunna freak when you see me."

<<A/N: If anything here confuses you, or if you have any problems/suggestions, PM me and I will explain it. This goes for the entirety of the book as well.>>