Chapter 7: Gather ye Rosebuds

Tatsu prepares itself for war, and the tension between Kōryō and Hiryū grows. More Dragonoid characters are introduced as well, and Lord Ryūjin gives Hiryū a crucial ultimatum.

         In the bunker, Kōryō still stood before the class, and Hakuryū was still in awe. The class didn’t know what to think since Hakuryū had yet to actually speak Kōryō’s Joule Grade aloud. This enraged Hiryū because he was so anxious to hear the number. He hated that he had witnessed Kōryō, a boy half a year younger than him, execute a sign of elite ability: the expulsion of fire via one’s own body heat.

         “Well, Kōryō,” Hakuryū began again, “I’m thoroughly impressed. You say you have no experience at all?”

         “No, sir,” Kōryō replied respectfully.

         “Alright, let’s see how much of the evolution you can handle.”

         “I…”

         “What’s the problem?”

         “I don’t know how.”

         “How to what? You can’t evolve any part of your body? At all?”

         “No, sir.”

         “No offense, kid, but that’s ridiculous; you run yet can’t walk. Nothing?”

         “No,” Kōryō answered again as his head dropped a bit in shame.

         “Alright then, we’ll have to put you on the normal soldier track. You need a lot of basic training. A JG like yours screams for specialist training, but it’s no good if you haven’t even learned the simplest uses of all that energy yet.”

         Kumoryū, the class clown, leaned back to whisper to Hiryū, “Kid expects to leave us all in the dust but straight-up forgets to learn transmutation.” Hiryū smirked as all the girls around him chuckled. “S’like what? You can’t give me one long tooth or somethin’?” Hiryū chuckled aloud but held back the bulk of his laughter while everyone else laughed outright, trying not to be too loud; these things only spurred Kumoryū. “Thought you’d just waltz right into Spec Ops? No scales, no claw, no nothin’?” The laughter gained more momentum. “Hate to rain on your parade, Noah.” Everyone lost it. The joke was too well crafted--a pun on the term “Rain Dragon” and the name “Noah,” referencing a mad man well-known for traveling from kingdom to kingdom and announcing a rain that would beget flood.

         “Does he walk around the palace acting like he’s better than you, Hiryū?” a girl asked after the laughter had subsided.

         “… No,” Hiryū indignantly replied, his smile quickly becoming a scowl of sorts. “Of course not. He knows better.”

         “He does seem arrogant, though,” Kazeryū added. “Seems like he just wants to find ways to outshine you. It’s really lame.”

         “Hm.”

         “Sun don’t shine when it’s rainin’, Noah,” Kumoryū interjected, inciting much laughter.

         “Hey!” Kokuryū shouted. “You will NOT disrupt Hakuryū’s process; that’s an order! Show some respect, or I’ll show you some consequences!”

         “Thank you for that, Kokuryū,” Hakuryū sarcastically added.

         “He’s not on your level,” Kazeryū whispered.

         “Did you think I thought he was?” Hiryū defensively remarked.

         “No, I’m just saying; he’s not.”

         “Right, he’s not.”

         “Joule Grades aren’t everything,” he added; at which point, Hiryū rolled his eyes. “Transmutation’s about focus on what energy you do have, great or small; it’s about concentration. If you can’t focus your mind, your energy can’t help you there.”

         “Yes, I know.”

         “Fire’s overrated,” a girl said.

         “Fire’s,” Kazeryū hesitated, having walked into a portion of the topic that he would have preferred not to touch. “not gonna save you against… w-water.” Everyone got quiet, realizing they had said the wrong things. Hiryū said nothing, but he was clearly angry. Kumoryū took it upon himself to lighten the mood saying, “Yeah, like rain.” Everyone chuckled but Hiryū.

         “Alright,” Hakuryū said, “step down, Kōryō.”

         “Wait,” the ordinary girl in front said suddenly. “He may not be able to evolve, but he can breathe fire!” 

         “What?” a baffled Hakuryū asked. “Impossible, that’s something only learned in elite training.”

         “I swear it! He can! We all saw him do it when the thieves attacked our classroom. He spit fire at one of them and burned him instantly.”

         “Contrary to common misconception, incendiary expulsion isn’t just about Joule Grade, meaning the amount of energy you possess is irrelevant if you don’t understand the intricate concepts. You have to be in tune with the energy of your body with seamless mental focus.”

         Kokuryū, who had still been standing nearby the whole time, whispered to Hakuryū and said, “Elite training requires a minimal JG of at least 200 Gigajoules because that’s how much work is required to induce combustion via pure body heat. Even though many never get that high, we already saw that the kid’s Joule Grade is high enough, so the girl may not be lying.”

         “Okay, Kōryō, let’s see it.”

         “Wait, what?” Kōryō replied fearfully.

         “Show us your flame.”

         “But I… don’t know…”

         “Huh?”

         “I don’t know how.”

         “But they said you’ve done it before.”

         “It was just… an accident.”

         “The hell is he doing?” Hiryū asked angrily, which discouraged the other students from commenting.

         “Gimme a break, kid,” Kokuryū said. “You saying you managed to utilize one of the most elite Dragonoid tactics by accident?! What a load of bull… Did this kid do it or didn’t he?”

         The question had been directed at the class. Kumoryū and Kazeryū glanced at Hiryū who remained silent and refused to make eye contact with them; instead, he merely stared at Kōryō crossly. Just show them, you fool, he thought. The ordinary girl finally shouted, “Are you all really going to skip this opportunity to get Kōryō the honor he deserves for saving our lives?! There’s nothing noble about any one of you! How could…”
         “Mind your audience when you speak, Seiaryū!” Hiryū shouted. “Nobility is my life.” The girl was taken aback by Hiryū’s sudden outburst.

         “What’d you see that day, Prince Hiryū?” Kokuryū asked sternly.

         “I wasn’t in the room.” A lie veiled in truth--he technically was, indeed, in the hall rather than in the room at the time. Finally, Hakuryū said, “You want to talk about being noble? Liars are the ones who aren’t noble, and that means you, kid,” pointing at Seiaryū. “And what about you, Kōryō? Did you do it or not? The truth this time.”

         Kōryō looked into the eyes of the girl, the only student who had vouched for him thus far, and he didn’t want to make her seem like a liar; however, he simply didn’t have the will to fight for this, so he lied to save face and lied to seem honest. “No, I didn’t.” Seiaryū’s countenance dropped, and anger seized her. Hakuryū replied, “Good, there’s never a reason to lie. Besides, your Joule Grade is impressive enough on its own; regardless, we’ll be starting you out on the basic track. As for you, little miss lies-a-lot, you get to go next.”

         “My name is Seiaryū,” she said.

         “I know what your name is; it’s on the paper. You wouldn’t be able to lie about that. Now, get on with it.”

         Seiaryū shot Kōryō a mean look as she replaced him in front of the class. Kōryō walked back into the small crowd of students to stand behind Hiryū where he could feel at least mildly comfortable, staring down at his feet. Seiaryū stood there as Hakuryū measured her Joule Grade with the box of iron sand. “Okay,” he said, “26 Gigajoules, a little low. Any experience to compensate for that?”

         “Not outside of the classroom,” she answered nonchalantly.

         “Let’s see your evolution.”

         Seiaryū concentrated, and her face was indicative of her focus. Unfortunately, all she could muster was the enhancement of her claws. She was embarrassed, but she was used to the embarrassment. She had never been all that great with any of this. “Right, I’ll be putting you in thievery training. Next up…”

         In the next half hour, the rest of the group was classified individually and assigned to their new positions. Orientation was a long and grueling process, but it eventually ended. The class was dismissed, and Hiryū slowly walked through the bunker toward the exit, accompanied by his usual cohorts. Kazeryū said, “I saw the final class averages for the year.”

         “Yeah?” asked an intrigued Kumoryū

         “We beat Garyū’s class by a whole point.”

         “What? How?” Hiryū asked, perplexed.

         “By sheer badassery is how,” Kumoryū answered smugly.

         “Originally, we expected Kōryō to bring our average way down, remember?”

         “Yeah,” Kazeryū said, “but we know from today’s orientation his JG’s pretty high.”

         “It’s very high, and beating Garyū’s class by a point sounds like something that could’ve happened without him. If Kōryō’s JG is anywhere near as high as Master Hakuryū’s reaction suggests, it should have pulled us a lot higher.”

         “We graduated early to get drafted because of the war. Maybe they hadn’t had time to average in Kōryō’s JG.”

         “Well, I gotta get home. My dad’s waiting on me to help him at the shop.”

         “Look at Kōryō,” Kumoryū said with a smirk. “He looks so lost.”

         “Kōryō!” Hiryū demanded. “Let’s go!”

Kōryō walked briskly toward Hiryū. Kazeryū and Kumoryū left, so Hiryū reluctantly walked home with Kōryō. As they walked to the palace through the peasant streets, Kōryō remained completely silent as usual. Hiryū was frustrated, and his irritation was building with the thoughts in his head. What the hell is his problem? He thought. Everybody wants to avoid talking about him around me because they don’t want me to think he’s better than me, but that’s only a problem because THEY think he’s better than me, which he’s not! Was that what he was doing? Protecting me from the asinine idea that he’s better than me? Hiryū finally broke the silence and began their first real conversation. “Why in hell didn’t you do it?”

         “Huh?” Kōryō asked in a relatively late reply.

         “Why didn’t you just show them your flame? Do you even realize how big a deal it is?”

         “I don’t know how to do it.”

         Hiryū suddenly dropped his backpack to the ground and immediately about-faced to lift Kōryō from the ground by his shirt. “If you don’t know how, then how did you do it before, you idiot?! That makes no damn sense!”

         “It was… just an accident; I told you!”

         “Screw that! Babies learning to walk don’t just accidently run fifty-yard dashes, you moron!”

         “I’m telling the truth!”

         “Get this straight: We inherit good things, and we inherit bad things. You can’t change what you inherit at birth. Simple math: Rain Dragon equals bad; it’s not a good thing! You may as well be retarded. I, on the other hand, am a Tatsuvian Prince; the royal blood in my veins says I’m destined for a greatness you’ll never achieve. If you live to see the day, I’ll be king, and you’ll work whatever rank I give you. Understand?”

         Kōryō nodded, and Hiryū dropped him to his feet, almost making him fall. Hiryū picked up his backpack and recommenced his walk to the palace. As they walked, he heard Kōryō sniff, and it was a wet sniff--a snivel indicative a suppressed urge to cry. He glanced back at Kōryō briefly then forward again. Kōryō kept his eyes to the ground and his hands in his pockets. When they arrived at the palace, they entered its large, marble foyer and walked its long, blue carpet, and on either side of their path were towering pillars mounted with lit torches. At the center of the foyer was an intersection with a yellow carpet, but they kept straight until reaching a very wide staircase. At the top, they saw several men fifty or so yards ahead down a long corridor that led to the throne room. In the center of these men was Lord Ryūjin who walked with purpose, his black tunic fluttering to the rhythm of his deliberate gait. Hiryū recognized the men around Lord Ryūjin as advisors from his council with the exception of one, the Tatsuvian Minister of Defense.

         “Sire, with war upon us, we should not be wasteful of our runes,” said the Mystics advisor.

         “My lord,” began the military advisor, “we wouldn’t be wasting runes if it protected us from losing another hundred lives.”

         “Our wizards will need the runes during war for offensive spells. If we’re dealing with Elza, our wizards need every advantage they can get.”

         “They do not. Tatsu has a military advantage, and that will suffice.”

         “Then, why can’t it suffice for defensive purposes?”

         “If they attack with thievery again, we’ll need to at least see them coming over the damn wall this time. Don’t you think?”

         “We’ve already burned through nearly two hundred runes for the ‘Magic Shield’ spell, which will be active for twelve more days; after which, it would be wise to re-cast because we’re dealing with Fairies here.”

         “Nobiriryū,” Lord Ryūjin said as he stopped in front of his son at the top of the staircase, “how sound is our defense? More to the point, do we need this ‘Clear Sight’ spell?”

         “We can survive without it,” replied Nobiriryū, Minister of Defense.

         “How so?”

         “The day after we were attacked, I made a judgment call and dipped into the military budget to expedite the training of the thieves whose training was already near complete. Today, we have a hundred ten new thieves added to the guild. That increases Tatsu’s TPA (Thieves/Acre) to approximately two hundred sixty-one. It may sound like a small change from last week’s reports, but it will make a big difference now that we’re on high alert due to the war stance. Our thieves will catch any large number of thieves that attempt to infiltrate with or without the ‘Clear Sight’ spell.”

         “Two against one, then. No spell. If anything happens while I’m away, send a messenger posthaste. Attack no one without my consent.”

         “Where are you going, dad?” Hiryū asked.

         “King Alexander has called for a knight summit.”

         “Like you predicted?”

         “That’s right. It’s only logical with war upon us. I’m leaving for Aztlan, and in the morning, we convene over a breakfast feast. Hiryū.”

         “Yes?”

         “Train hard while I’m gone.”

         “I won’t let you down.”

         “I know that you won’t. Now, I’m off. My chief advisor and caravan await.”

         “Good luck on your trip.”

         “Oh, and Kōryō, how did you do?”

         “Me?” Kōryō asked sheepishly, surprised that the king was addressing him personally.

         “Your father will want to know.”

         “You’re… going to see him there?”

         “I am. Did you test well?”

         “Uh, no actually.”

         “Hm, I see. Servants!”

         “Yes, my lord,” called a woman from the bottom of the staircase.

         “See to it that Kōryō is moved into Hiryū’s quarters.”

         “Wait. What?!” Hiryū shouted.

         “As you wish,” the servant answered softly.

         “We’ve not honored Shugoryū properly,” Lord Ryūjin said. “Hiryū, you will treat his son as a brother. He was, after all, one of my most trusted men.”

         “But father!” Hiryū shouted.

         Lord Ryūjin smiled warmly, snatched Hiryū by the hair, and smashed the boy’s head against his chest in a violent hug. He craned his neck down far enough for his lips to kiss Hiryū’s ear and whisper, “And you will ensure that the Rain Dragon’s potential is not wasted. I must report to King Alexander and Shugoryū that we are raising him to be powerful. You want to prove yourself responsible enough to one day be king? This is your opportunity. If he fails, you fail. Do NOT disappoint me, or trust that I will just as soon conceive in your mother another son and extend my reign until the day that I ensure he is ready.” He let go of his son and began walking down the staircase. Hiryū simply stood there with an expression of worry on his face as the advisors and Minister of Defense followed their king, Nobiriryū placing his hand on Hiryū’s shoulder briefly as he passed almost as though he knew what had been said and wanted to encourage the prince. Hiryū looked at Kōryō resentfully, not even entirely sure what constituted "failure" for either of them. He turned away and started walking as he said, “Let’s go to our room… brother.”

Author's Note

One primary objective for this chapter was to finally establish some of Tatsu's personalities like Seiaryū, Kumoryū, and Kazeryū. I also wanted to exacerbate the enmity between Hiryū and Kōryō. I would also like any advice or comments on the moment where Lord Ryūjin gives Hiryū that ultimatum at the end because I want it to feel like somewhat of a big moment.