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Chapter 5 - A Rival.

Ezra walks into the center of the wave. And a sigil appears behind his body. A great, gravel-like scaled draconic head forms around Ezra. Golden flames erupt from the mouth of the beast and rush towards the flames above, clashing. The flames above are completely overpowered and consumed by the golden flames until nothing is left. A husk of a man falls from the sky, and a streak of shock is seen on Samael's face.

"Let's get moving."

The envoy is laid out on the ground, barely breathing, attempting to utter some kind of sentence, but nothing is heard. The envoy sacrificed most of his body mass to launch an attack that would destroy the surrounding area.

"Grab Mr. Reymond, I'll grab those guys."

Samael hesitantly grabbed Reymond's unconscious body and placed him gently inside the carriage. Ezra threw the unconscious envoys into the cargo area of the carriage and tied them onto some boxes. He punched them each just to make sure they stayed unconscious. After securing the envoys, they continued their route.

The trip was quiet. Samael tried to make conversation with a couple of jokes, but Ezra coldly brushed them off. Something was wrong with Ezra, but Samael couldn't figure out what.

Soon, Reymond woke up and radiated with joy.

"I'm alive! I can't believe it! What happened? Did they let us go? Did you pay them off?"

Samael sighs and explains to previous series of events to Reymond.

A disappointing frown appears on Reymond's face, and he grabs Samael's shoulder.

"Listen, kid, you don't have to prove anything to me. I'm just happy you two survived. My conscience would be shattered if two kids died on my watch. Now come on, tell me what really happened, there's no shame in surviving."

"Ezra, stop the carriage."

The carriage stops, and Samael walks towards the back of the vehicle, signaling for Reymond to follow him. Reymond follows Samael and is shaken by the sight in front of him.

"Oh."

"My."

"Goodness!"

The setting changes to a brightly lit tavern, with music, dancing, and drinks.

"These boys are the future of this kingdom! Not one, not two, but three! These boys took out three Solra users, and they can't even use any of the great powers!"

The crowd in the tavern goes wild, singing, dancing, and having an all-out celebration.

The kingdom of Rolania holds its youth in very high regard; in their culture, talented youth are worth being celebrated.

Ezra taps on Reymond.

"Hey, I'm feeling tired. I'm gonna go up and rest, thank you for everything, Mr. Reymond."

"A,h of course, just don't forget about me once you're big!"

Samael quickly follows Ezra.

"Hey, I'll be heading out too."

Ezra settles down in his room, and Samael sits across from him.

Ezra takes a deep breath and prepares himself mentally.

"Ask away, Samael, I'm an open book."

Samae, still kind of confused, takes out his notebook.

"Ok, so I'm guessing that thing you summoned was the type of solra you use. It was pretty destructive. Is that exclusive to you, or is that a family thing?"

"It's the Solra of the Larind family, it's one of the reasons we're so renowned and powerful."

"Ok, so what does your family do? Are you guys a bunch of villains that go around terrorizing people?"

"No. For centuries, our family's goal has been to protect people from corrupt and false dragons."

Samael continues to scribble in his book, and he gets a bit confused. If they save people from evil dragons, why is there a giant target on the family's back?

"So why do you guys have such a horrible reputation? Was there a larind who went rogue or something?"

"The reason why we're so hated is because of the Draconic Cult. They're a group of people who've been around for ages, and they worship all dragons, to be specific, anything that has 15 or more percent of draconic blood, they see it as holy. This includes the corrupt and false dragons we hunt."

Ezra walks to the bookshelf, and he pulls out a book with the emblem of the Draconic Cult.

"The Draconic Cult is much more widespread than our family; they have most of the press and settlements wrapped around their fingers. False dragons destroy settlements, homes, and my family goes out and takes care of it. But we can't undo the damage, so they pin it on us, and people believe it. Our Solra manifest in the form of dragons, so it's pretty easy to pin us to any and all dragon-related crimes."

Samael gets very confused. He takes the book from Ezra's hand and flips to an illustration of a dragon.

"Ezra, what I saw you do today did look draconic in a sense, but that thing you summoned wasn't a dragon. This is a dragon."

"What you see here is called a false dragon, or a mortal dragon. Those creatures are rough, aggressive, and worldly. True dragons are elegant, titanic, and majestic. You don't know how a true dragon looks because, other than the Larind family, no one has survived an encounter with one. What you saw today isn't a good reference to a true dragon, though. True dragons don't have split tongues or smooth-ended scales. I can't really describe them. It's something you'd have to experience to know."

Samael writes everything down in his notes.

"Ok, then what did you summon, if not a dragon?"

"Firstly, we don't summon dragons. Think of it as a large suit of armour I can control for a certain amount of time. And for your second question, that was a true dragon, just a variant. That's all I'm going to say on that; it's a sensitive topic for me."

"Ok, so here's my last question."

Ezra prepares himself for the worst. In the entirety of Ezra's life, he's only had two friends. His first friend passed away when he was young, causing him to distance himself from people. After his friend passed, he spent his life quietly and alone. In his family, he was the youngest, and he had very different interests from his siblings, so they never had much of a connection.

But one day, his father came home with a boy of Ezra's age. This was the first time in a while that Ezra had met anyone his age. So they hit it off instantly, playing games like tag, hopscotch, and hide and seek. Ezra was happy. One day, his friend wanted to do a competition; they'd go on a hunt, and whoever came back with the biggest load would win.

Everything was going fine, they even had their eyes on the same beast, his friend showed Ezra his soulra, and in return, Ezra showed his. This was a big mistake. His friend called Ezra a freak and ran away.

After that, they stopped talking and playing games. Every day, his friend would come to challenge Ezra. In every challenge,e his friend was utterly defeated. Until eventually his friend stopped coming over.

Ezra cried to his father.

"Did I do something wrong? Everything was fine before!"

And his father coldly replied.

"The strong do not have the luxury of friendship. When you are strong, people fear and envy your power. The path of the strong is a path of desolation."

As Ezra prepared himself to lose yet another friend, he was shocked by the words that came out of Samael's mouth.

"Are you mentally all there?"

"What?"

"Well, you've been quiet since you used your solar, and I've asked around, and it's very common for people with mental issues to have trouble using Solra; they usually slow down all of their functions after using it because their brains can't handle it."

"I mean, you got chased around by a bunch of normal people when you could have when you could have literally destroyed their whole existence. It's either that or you really hate using your solra, and if you say that, I might actually punch you. Because how could you be so ungrateful for such power?"

Ezra burst out into laughter.

"Not all there?!"

Ezra laughs himself onto the floor, kicking, rolling, and crying. He slowly gets up and wipes his tears.

"No, I'm not mentally incompetent! I was worried. I was worried that you'd be scared away or jealous of my abilities, and in the settlement, they weren't sure of my identity, using my solra would confirm it."

Samael gets ready to punch Ezra, then stops himself and takes a deep breath.

"Who do you think you are? Your solra is strong and all, but I'm not that interested in a power involving dragons. It's edgy, lame, and it creates a wall on what I can and can't do. And don't get me wrong, Ezra, you're strong, but you aren't that strong. After fighting that envoy leader, I realized that I have so much more potential than I ever imagined. Ezra, I'm going to learn a great power, and once I do. You better not fall behind."

Ezra begins to reminisce on the words of his father.

"No, it's better to say that friends do nothing but burden those who are strong. Those who are strong build connections deeper than those of friendship. Rivalry, a rival is someone who grows with you and pushes you to be stronger. My dear son, do not cry over weak friends. Because one day you will find a rival."

A wide grin appears on Ezra's face. And he stands up in a much better mood.

"I'd expect nothing less from my rival!"

Samael frowns sharply and cringes.

"Don't just label me as your rival. That's cringy, I'm going to bed."

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