Draco leaped from branch to branch, waving to those who he passed or saw. Unlike royalty on Earth, the Makti and Doshu'um weren't seen as rulers. They were seen as leaders and great warriors. Not one who expected others to bow. A Makti and Doshu'um had to gain his people's trust. Not through words, or promises or speeches. Through the shedding of blood, both Arthanian and Loki'irian, and through progress with the war. As such, no man or woman bowed to him… and he felt just a bit more normal.
"Reku'un!"
He slowed until he landed on a smaller branch, then waited as a youngling approached him. The boy's name was Ifikit, and he was a Signa child. His hair was black, like all Loki'irians, but his eyes were purple and his mark resembled a hokor (a five legged animal of prey on Loki'ir). The boy came up to his waist, but apparently he was only three cycles old. Or six, in Earth years.
"Where are you going, Doshu'um Reku'un?" He asked politely, scratching his neck softly.
"I'm just going to see your brother and some friends, little one," Draco smiled. "What are you doing out here?"
Another scent reached his nostrils, just as another man landed on the branch. He looked similar to Ifikit, only his eyes were a deep blue and his hair was longer. The man stood a good two feet taller than Draco, and the only thing covering him was the traditional Protiiglo garments, which was an assortment of vines and cloth that wrapped around his waist and ended at his knees.
"Ifikit and I are on our way to the League's home," Jorek answered, nodding respectfully. "Ifikit wants to come with me for my report."
Draco nodded with a smile. "May I ask why?"
The Protiiglo shrugged with a chuckle. "Some information on our people. A bit of politics, which none of us can stand," he answered.
Draco laughed softly, shaking hands with Jorek before doing the same with Ifikit. "Then Minira give you the strength to endure," he smiled.
Jorek saluted softly before scooping his son up, placing him on his shoulders, then taking off towards Figanti's home. Draco watched them go until he could see no more, and started back to meet up with the other adolescents.
The travel didn't take long, and only a few dozen trees away he could smell the five of them. He sped up slightly until he could see them sparring amongst one another. Smirking softly, he rerouted to the right, then circled around. The sounds of weapons clashing reached his ears, and he made a sharp left to set himself on course with the group. He took several powerful bounds before leaping out of the cover of brush and roared. The teens below him took note, breaking away from one another to briefly wait for him to choose a target.
It was the moment of attack, and Draco felt time slow to a near-standstill. He looked over his five adversaries, each in mid-reaction to his entrance.
Nigata Voreska. Long, flowing, black hair, green eyes, slender body, and a wide array of rifles and pistols strapped to her body. Her favorite… her Netrak: an enormous double-bladed axe that she could change into a heavy pistol. She preferred to draw her opponent in when with the axe, but feared none, not even Minira, when she had her guns. Nigata lacked in speed, but made up with power.
Her opposite, and brother, was Hirtokt. All speed, minimal power. But his speed made up, just like his sister's power did for her own fault. His hair was shorter than most Loki'irians, and his eyes were a misty grey. Instead of bulking weapons, he carried a pair of scythes connected on a chain. His thin build helped make his movements more sharp and graceful. That, however, also made him very slippery and agile, which helped him lash out with small hits in continuous streams. He kept back most of the time, but at a close enough distance to keep his chains from being used against him.
Nozok Turekta. Long black hair, and orange eyes. Arrogant, but for a reason. He was two cycles older than Draco, but their powers were gapped by a ravine. He wielded two double-edged blades, a second sheathed pair hanging upside down, mirroring his primary pair. He was very physically built, and a smart bastard on top of that. His speed was decent, as was his maneuverability. However, the only visible weakness was his left arm. It wasn't as powerful as his right, and a good hit could cause him to stumble.
Nida Porschok. A cycle younger than Draco, but an expert archer. Her bow was said to have belonged to her great uncle, who had died beside the 345th Makti. Over 400 Loki'irian generations ago. She hair was tied up behind her head, and she had a slightly short build. As a backup, a dagger was sheathed on either of her thighs. Her aim was dead on, and the arrows she used were made by her own family. A family of archers.
And last, Yolokno, another swordsman. They were about the same height, perhaps he was half-a-foot taller. His black hair was pushed to the sides, but still held the disheveled appearance of all Loki'irians. His blade had been passed down through generations of epic warriors, and it now rested in his hands. They had sparred before, and Draco knew he was very skilled with his weapon. Apparently, they were rival clans.
And so… he decided.
Yolokno was still turning.
Nida's how was drawn.
Nozok was twirling his scythe into a readied angle.
Nigata was reaching for the handle of her axe.
Hirtokt was crossing his blades to a readied stance.
Draco roared as he connected blades with Yolokno.
The two growled viciously as they fought for dominance, their arms proving to be around the same strength. Yolokno rose a knee, but Draco pushed off to avoid it, then pushed off the trunk of the tree to spring forward. He let loose a flurry of slashes and hacks, which Yolokno dodged and parried with speed to match. He slashed upwards with as much power as he could muster, throwing Draco off and leaving him vulnerable.
Yolokno twirled around and shot his foot into Draco's stomach, sending him backwards a few feet, but his feet kept planted on the ground. He finally stopped when he bumped into the tree, then moved his head to the side to avoid Yolokno's blade. With the failed attempt at a jab, Draco buried his sword up to the hilt into his chest, forcing a cry of pain, then sent a barrage of jabs into his torso. The final hit sent Yolokno tumbling backwards and off the branch, but he recovered mid air and managed to land on another branch.
Draco pursued, just as Yolokno pulled the Daedalak out and tossed it towards him, a smirk adorning his face. After catching it, Draco landed on the same branch just a few feet away from him and readied himself. Yolokno stretched a hand up, and his blade that was stuck in the trunk above dislodged itself and flew to his hand. He twirled it skillfully before planting a foot back and leaping forward. Draco went to meet him, and their swords clashed with an ear-splitting screech of metal-on-metal. The power caused them to bounce off of one another, sparks flying as they kept their fight alive, slashing while airborne.
Losing stamina, Draco roared as his side had a gash torn into it, then another quick cut across his back, from the waist to his right shoulder blade. He managed to deflect the next attempt at a slash, which was aimed at his arm. His sword was locked with Yolokno's, the two smiling amidst a shared growl. Draco rocketed his fist into his right arm, causing him to falter and gasp as his blade went against his neck and his leg weaved behind his.
In one swift motion, Draco slammed Yolokno to the ground, the edge of the Daedalak pressed against his neck. He looked down to Yolokno with a victorious smirk.
"I win," he grunted, panting softly.
A smirk worked its way over Yolokno's face, and it was only then that Draco noticed a sharp pain in his chest. "Are you… sure about that?" He chuckled weakly.
Draco glanced down. Yolokno's violet blade was buried in his ribcage, the angle directing the blade to his heart. Any deeper, and he would have died. Draco smirked through his gritted teeth, then pulled himself off of the sword and fell back.
"You two done over there?" Nigata called, laughing teasingly.
Draco grunted as he felt his front begin to mend, then the bones in his chest began to realign and mesh back together. "Just… about…" Yolokno laughed. "That… that was a lucky dodge… and you know it."
Draco laughed weakly, grunting as he sat back up. "Yeah… and… nice parry," he smiled weakly.
Hirtokt and Nida landed on their branch and helped them up. "Thanks, Nida," Draco panted.
"You look rather pale," she chuckled, grabbing a medical-gel vial from her waist. "This should help this one." She spread the solution over his chest, which had only just begun to close. With the green gel, it closed completely, no scar left behind.
"Be careful how you use those, Nida," Nozok warned. "This was only a spar. His wounds can heal on their own."
Draco shot an annoyed glare at him, along with Nida, and was met with the same tone. "It's only a small dose," she retorted, placing the vial in her waist pocket. "This couldn't even save a newborn."
"But it could put a warrior back into the fight," Nozok reminded them. "Yes?"
Nigata stepped between them and placed a hand on Draco and Nozok, pushing them back slightly. "Save the fight for later, boys," she giggled. "Or should I knock you both out and tuck you in?"
The two glared one last time before Nida pulled Draco away and Hirtokt nudged Nozok. "I mean well, Doshu'um. Do not mistake my intentions," Nozok said, calmly.
"Let's just get to the training rooms, before someone dies from a ‘spar’" Yolokno chuckled.
Nida nudged Draco away from the conflict, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "Just relax," she whispered. "It's over."
With a small sigh, he nodded and turned to her. "Alright. I'm fine, okay?" He smiled. She nodded, then turned and leaped, followed by him and the other four.
Draco kept up with Nida and Yolokno, sticking with them as they made their way to the gravity room. "Is something wrong?" Nida asked.
Draco shook from his thoughts and glanced to Nida. "W-What?"
"Something's bothering you, Reku'un," she stated. "What is it?"
"I-It's nothing… just…"
He sighed softly, focusing on leaping once more before glancing down to his palm.
"…just wondering about my friends…"