3 Lost and Found.

(A/N: Rewritten)

(Side Note: Fan-fiction writers should use Grammarly ಠ⌣ಠ)

A boy, looking none older than thirteen, wandered a battlefield permeated with the bloodied corpses of the dead. The boy's face was stoic, seemingly as if bothered not by remains surrounding him.

He held a sword, a warrior's grip, stabbing any bodies that still had a breath of life in them. His crimson orb-like eyes were sharp, battle-hardened, unfit for a boy his age. Rag-like clothes were hanging off of the boy's body, bloodied and torn, and without a hint of armor.

The boy stared up to the quiet, untainted sky—now deep in thought. The Orphanage had always preached the grace of God, but never once, had this God aided him. Was it because he had sinned? If that was the case, wasn't God all-forgiving?

Or...was it perhaps that the Orphanage had lied?

The boy shook his head, that couldn't be. He looked around him. It was now the third day of the Empire deserting him, and he was quickly running out of rations. But, he would have to make do—he was used to it after all.

He paced, approaching the dead bodies. The boy was scavenging their remains. He had inadvertently come across the battlefield when traveling an unfamiliar road. Unfortunately, he had found nothing of use. He flung the bodies away—the boy had little regard for the dead.

He sighed, and once again quietly observed the sky.

*WHOOSH!*

Abruptly, a sudden gale of wind threatened the boy to fly.

He stabbed his sword into the ground, gripping it to hold the anchor. The boy looked around, before recognizing the culprit—a dragon. The boy's face remained impassive. Many others would cover in fear, but the boy had already gone through too much to despair.

The dragon had lustrous olive-green scales and deep aquamarine eyes. Its wings were leafy and grand, but unlike other dragons, it had neither horns or sharp claws. And for that, the creature gave off a peaceful, serene, and gentle aura.

The boy frowned. "Answer dragon, what does one such as thou want from me?" He yelled as the dragon descended onto the ground. The boy stared into the dragon's eyes, his own unwavering even to such a god-like being.

"...Come," the beast gently spoke out. Its voice was feminine and soft. It hunched down, seemingly as if gesturing the boy to hop onto its back. However, the boy was still on guard. For what reason did the dragon want him to do so?

But, after several moments of weighing the good and bad of the decision, he ultimately jumped onto the dragon's behind. He had nothing to lose, perhaps except for his now-worthless life.

The dragon took off with a steady beat of its wings. The boy gripped tightly onto the dragon, careful not fall. Though, he knew the beast would most likely not allow his body to drop.

The crimson-eyed boy stared towards the moon. He recalled back to the recent past. It seemed almost like yesterday, how the Empire had exiled him for killing a Noble. It was entirely his fault either. His entire company betraying him wasn't exactly the best of things to happen to him.

Sighing, the boy cut off his thoughts, mindlessly gazing towards the imperfect luna. '...Beautiful.' The boy's eyes widened at the thought. He had never found something 'beautiful' before—not girls, not art, not anything. 'How strange...'

However, his thoughts were soon cut off with the dragon's descent towards the ground. Before the boy, was a massive cave filled with none but a strange bed and torches. There were no treasures or riches to speak of in the hollow.

The boy stared toward the green dragon. "For what purpose have you taken me here?" he asked. He had slightly lowered his defense, seeing how there were no traps.

He had a strange sense for them whenever they were around, and he'd learned to trust it. But, he kept his guard, one could never be too careful.

"...Kindness?" The beast sounded almost uncertain of itself, while the boy cringed at the dragon's reply. It was odd, nearing troubling, that a dragon would know of kindness and mercy. After all, dragons were known as creatures of pride, power, and arrogance.

The boy scoffed.

"Kindness? I don't need such a useless thing."

"...Edgy?"

The boy frowned. "Enough of this nonsense, I'm leaving." The crimson-eyed boy didn't see why he would stay. There was no point, and he was wasting time arguing with the dragon. A bed would be pleasant and full, but it frankly wouldn't help him survive.

However, the dragon took an unexcepted turn: "You will stay." Its voice was no longer tender but instead replaced with the authority of a ruler. The boy's frown deepened. But, as he thought of it, the decision was not much of a dilemma.

If he stayed, he would most likely have the protection of the dragon. It was unquestionably better than exploring the unknown.

The boy took a sigh before responding, "Fine." The dragon did what seemed to be a smile, and suddenly, a blinding white-colored glow came from its body. The boy was forced to cover his eyes with his arm, looking away from the bright radiance. 'Was this a snare after all?'

But, that thought was soon proven wrong as the brightness enclosed. The boy turned toward the fading light, and greeting him, was the figure of a girl.

She had beautiful creamy skin, perfectly well-formed features, and like the dragon, the girl had aquamarine eyes. She had raven-black hair, donning a lovely light-green dress, and stood a height of six-to-seven heads.

A seemingly delicate beauty.

"Beautiful..." the boy unconsciously uttered out. The boy's eyes widened yet again, as he faked a cough. "Who are you? Where is the beast?" he asked. But, he had already guessed the answer. It was obvious, after all, "...I am, the dragon?" the girl answered with a slight tilt of her head. "********, my name... What is your name?"

The boy frowned. It was strange, almost as if his mind couldn't process her name. But he decided to ignore it. Inwardly sighing, he thought, 'I guess this is the start of my new life.' The boy stared into the dragon girl's eyes, before replying,

"Yasuo."

___

Time felt like a breeze for Yasuo. Every day, he and the dragon would solely eat and sleep and repeat. But this simple routine of the dragon bringing the food, and him cooking it, bought him profound happiness—for a reason unknown to him.

At night, the boy would quietly stare at the ever-changing moon, having the dragon accompany him. It unknowingly eased his heart. He was by no means bored by such a cycle, however—and most likely never will. Instead, this custom gave him something to do, a new habit—cooking.

And he was more than pleasured doing so.

As Yasuo changed, likewise, so did the dragon. She became more lively—more talkative. The dragon no longer paused during words and used more complex terms, as well as longer sentences.

Yasuo was genuinely happy for this development, which was perhaps because of the dragon's newfound and infectious cheerfulness affecting him.

The boy was smiling more, natural smiles. And his new best friend, Hugen, a boy who the dragon 'conveniently' picked up, only attributed to his smiles. Hugen was an unquestionably cheerful boy, perhaps a bit too much. Hugen seemed to have infected the dragon with his liveliness, but the boy paid no mind.

Hugen, no last name as well, was taller than Yasuo. He had a muscular and healthy body due to his regular exercise. He was also handsome, having sharp and balanced facial points. While his blue eyes and bright blonde hair only attributed to his handsomeness.

While shorter, Yasuo was arguably more beautiful. Over the months, years, decades, the boy had become striking. He had long hair tied to a ponytail with bangs covering his face, big red-crimson eyes, and a smooth face, such that he could be easily mistaken for a girl.

His body, however, was very fit and 'manly,' unlike his face. It was due to his paired-up training with Hugen, though he was already hale before Hugen came along.

Unlike Yasuo, the dragon appearance remained the same. She was, after all, a dragon - creatures who had immense lifespans. But, the strange thing was, Yasuo still knew not of the dragon's name.

Whenever the dragon or Hugen would utter the former's name, no actual sound would come out. And, the movement of their lips would change every time, making it impossible for Yasuo to discern the name.

But, that mattered not for the boy.

He was content, with his two best friends. Yasuo would not trade this life with anything in the world, even the possibility of once again joining the Empire's ranks.

In the past, he would have no doubt chose so—happiness was infinitely alien to him. But now, he felt gratitude toward the dragon, for letting him experience the wonders that were passions.

___

*CLANG!*

The sound of two swords clashing rang through an open field. The opponent, Hugen, quickly swung his sword back ere once again striking.

However, Yasuo parried the blow just as swiftly, before countering with a low sweep. Hugen jumped back to dodge, and Yasuo promptly gave chase.

Yasuo slashed his sword, full force. He wasn't very 'great' anymore, having sealed his power in the past. For him, there wasn't a need for such a thing—he was living a peaceful life.

Hugen barely dodged the strike and set his feet firm on the ground. The blonde gave a stroke of his own, though holding back, immensely.

Yasuo skillfully blocked Hugen's strike before kneeing the blonde in the stomach. Having held back not only his power but also his body itself, Hugen collapsed onto the floor, holding his belly in pain.

"Couldn't you have just kicked me instead?" Hugen grumbled.

Yasuo held out a hand, and Hugen grasped hold it, lifting himself.

"Even if you hold back, your body is still stronger than mine!" Yasuo laughed. "But anyway, you're getting better at swordplay. Only a few years, and now you can dodge!" continued the raven-hair as he remained laughing.

"Well, at least I know I'm improving." Hugen smiled back, then sighed. "I'll get going now. I don't exactly have all the free time in the world and the sky." He joked as he prepared to head off upward toward the First Heaven: the atmosphere.

"Ah, wait for a second," Yasuo called. Hugen turned around and stared at Yasuo with a tilt of his head, confusion evident on his face. "Do you know where the dragon is? I haven't seen her all day. It's strange."

"Hmm? Is she not at the old cave?"

"No, I've already checked there—multiple times even."

"Then, what about the new Mansion?"

"Same, checked there multiple times there too."

"Ah, that is strange." Hugen began scratching his cheek. He had gotten the habit of lightly scraping his face from Yasuo. It didn't affect him much, if at all, so he kept it over the years. If anything, it helped him calm himself, helping him think better.

"Yeah, yeah. Ever thought about using those abilities of yours first, instead of questioning me?" Yasuo deadpanned. Hugen began to laugh while scratching the back of his head - another habit he had gotten from his crimson-eyed buddy.

Hugen took a deep breath before calming down. He could, of course, use his powers while distracted and quite well too. But, he didn't want to lax when there might be a significant problem right in front of him.

Plus, this was related to one of his best friends. Meanwhile, Yasuo was patiently waiting with a calm expression. He wasn't too worried—confident in his friend's abilities.

Hugen closed his eyes, commencing to search for the dragon. However, Hugen's face quickly transitioned from relaxed to panicked.

Noticing this, Yasuo was beginning to grow slightly worried. He questioned his friend with a frown: "Where is she? Why so nervous?"

"...I don't, know?" Hugen slowly replied. "I can't find her... She's nowhere on the face of this earth, nor is she anywhere underground," he finished.

"Are you sure?" Yasuo anxiously asked, now grasping onto Hugen's shoulders. Hugen gradually nodded.

He was just as uneasy as Yasuo but was able to control his emotions—though only barely. Hugen looked down and sighed. "Yes... she might have truly vanished..."

Yasuo's eyes widened as he let go of his hold, kneeling on the ground. His arms were seemingly dead, loosely hanging by his side, while his bangs were veiling his face.

"No, no. That can't be," he quietly murmured to no one in particular; Hugen kept quiet.

*SWOOSH!*

An abrupt din of swift steps rang into the two's ears. The two of them looked up from the ground, unwelcoming alert to the de trop intruder. They were both upset, even touching the point of fuming—it was a terrible time for unwanted trouble.

"Who's there?!" Yasuo demanded. But, he did not expect an answer—it was rhetorical. No person in their right minds would answer such a question. Yasuo scanned the previous battle-worn area, searching for the intruder.

Meanwhile, already finding the likely assassin, Hugen charged, hoping to capture him or her for interrogation. Perhaps he or she knew something about the disappearance of the green dragon. If not, he would release the fellow, or kill him.

Both of them also knew that Yasuo would not be able to contribute much to the—possible, and unwanted—fight. It was also why the crimson-eyed swordsman had yet to rush toward the probable assassin—his self-seal had done a number on power.

Yasuo had soon gotten a good look at the intruder, having not sealed his physical capabilities. It was also early in the morning, and the intruder considerably stood out.

The character donned the typical 'assassin gear' of all black, with a mask covering most his face, keeping his gray, lifeless-like eyes revealed. He was not tall—about average—while his clothing veiled his hair as well.

Hugen had soon reached the intruder, as he lifted his sword to prepare a strike with one hand while channeling a wind spell on the other. In response, the assassin took out a small cube-like object using spatial magic, releasing it toward Hugen.

Hugen's eyes widen in surprise and horror, as he yelled "Run now! Don't unseal it!" to Yasuo, before getting 'engulfed' into the mystical cuboid-prison.

The assassin stored the cube, before turning his focus toward Yasuo. He proceeded carefully and slowly pace toward Yasuo, equipping a pure-black knife from his spatial storage.

However, the crimson-eyed swordsman stayed still, not heeding to Hugen's previous words, as his face looked blank and empty.

Inside Yasuo's mind, it was as if multiple bouts of dreadful realization came rushing in. 'The dragon's disappearance...it is related to this assassin, isn't it?' Yasuo thought. '...everything is this assassin's fault, isn't it?'

Yasuo began to laugh, as he slowly stood up from kneeling.

"Why did I even seal my power in the first place?" He muttered to himself before staring into the assassin's eyes.

"I'm sorry Hugen...I don't care about the consequences anymore..." As he finished the sentence, Yasuo plunged his sword into his heart—opening the seal.

He pulled the sword out from his chest, caring not for the flowing blood, as he gently walked toward the approaching killer. Cautious to the sudden change, the gray-eyed assassin began to quicken his steps as he soon reached the optimal striking distance.

The assassin narrowed his lifeless eyes, before jumping toward Yasuo with a readied stab. However, by solely waving his sword, Yasuo had completely burst the masked killer away with a gust of wind!

He then charged toward the assassin, soon reaching an arm-length above the killer who was still in the air.

Yasuo gently slashed down with his sword, creating yet another blast of wind, and releasing fresh gore into the atmosphere. The blood was, of course, from the assassin—who was now down lying in a massive crater with said blood gushing out from his chest.

However, Yasuo once again charged; the assassin had yet to die after all. Swiftly reaching the masked man, swung down his sword.

And again.

And again.

And again.

But suddenly, a space-like portal came into existence, dropping multiple objects into the now enlargened crater—one being the cube-like artifact.

Yasuo blinked, seemingly in slight surprise. "Ah...he's dead," muttered the crimson-eyed swordsman, presently staring at his heart wound. "I should heal this, shouldn't I?" He commented as he held his right hand over the injury, basking it in a warm, white glow.

As the wound quickly turned to a close, Yasuo trained toward the assassin, heading to his now-dead remains. The crimson-eyed swordsman hastily reached the crater, promptly picking up the cube prison and crushing it with blunt force.

The now-broken pieces of the artifact brightly shone, revealing the figure of a disheveled Hugen sitting on the ground. The blonde looked around his surroundings, discovering an unharmed Yasuo and the assassin—now dead.

Hugen's mind quickly got to work. The situation before him was simple enough to discern: "Why'd you unseal it, you stupid idiot!?" Hugen yelled toward Yasuo. He was both angry, and concerned about his friend. "I could have broken through that prison, given one more minute, and possibly even interrogated the assassin for information without you undoing your seal!"

Yasuo blinked at the word 'interrogated,' and Hugen blinked back.

"Don't tell me you didn't even think of interrogating the b*stard?!" Hugen yelled as Yasuo started scratching the back of his head.

Lightly shaking his crimson-eyed friend's shoulders, Hugen began sighing, while saying, "You are an idiot. How could you free your powers, then do practically nothing else but bear the ends of unlocking it?"

"I don't know...something took control of me?"

Yasuo faked a cough.

"Never mind that, what's that cube artifact? It seems like you recogniz-"

Yasuo's eyes widened. It had finally struck with its agonizing claws—pain so scalding that death only seemed to be a head away. Every part of his body was screaming in torment, as Yasuo collapsed to the dirt, paralyzed.

"Yasuo!" Hugen shouted as he immediately came rushing toward him, stricken with panic. "Yasuo!" Hugen called yet again while resting Yasuo's head into his hands. He could see it now, the reason for Yasuo's sudden collapse, his now-pale complexion, the sweat dripping down his face—the seal.

"Hang in there, Yasuo!" Hugen yelled, and such was the last words the crimson-eyed swordsman had heard before turning unconscious.

___

Years, too many to count, had quickly and silently passed. During them, Yasuo stayed mostly in the Mansion, having to recover from the 'unsealing.' The rare times he went out, he always came back with "friends," and drunk.

Hugen would give frequent visits, helping Yasuo with his recovery. Though the strange thing was, while Hugen looked older, with occasional gray streaks in his hair, Yasuo remained young, having the face and body of a youth. It was almost as if he was immortal...

And, after an excessive amount of time, during one of the past uncountable years, Yasuo had finally achieved his convalescence. A joyous event it was.

He could recount the day like the number of times he had smoked in his long life—precisely 0.

There was a spectacular party - whom no one knew the reason for but attended anyway. Naturally, Hugen came to the affair, knowing the cause of it. Then, he was sincerely joyful for his friend.

For Yasuo no longer had to suffer, and more importantly, he retained his power. Hugen could spar the crimson-eyed swordsman once again!

After such a grand event, came habit and normality with regular spars. As the pain for the 'unsealing' grew less and less, so did Yasuo's combative capabilities.

Nevertheless, the swordsman intentionally, and somewhat reluctantly, avoided exercising his body, seeing as both harmful to himself and others around him.

Hugen thought it was an idiotic view but never mentioned this to his friend.

And thus, one day: "WHAT THE HELL, HUGEN?!" Yasuo screamed at the top of his lungs as pain coursed through his entire body. Now lying on a heap of broken bricks, Yasuo managed to croak out, "W...hy?"

"...Friend, I have seen your destiny," Hugen solemnly answered as Yasuo's vision began to blur increasingly. "You will kill, and you will suffer. I am merely beginning it for you." Yasuo inwardly chuckled. 'Ah, merely beginning it, is he? What a cringy line.'

And such was the last before his vision faded to nothingness...

Yasuo found himself in front of a familiar figure, too familiar. The beautiful ebony hair, the blue-green eyes, the lovely face. It was something that he could never forget, a missing piece that made him 'himself.'

"I am the Lesser Goddess of Reincarnation, Vyra!" she introduced herself. Yasuo tilted his head, feigning confusion. The self-proclaimed reincarnation Goddess let out a frustrated sigh. "It seems that I'm not well known by many. Well, no matter, you don't need that information anyways. Now, please choose your last wish."

Yasuo's brain was now working faster than ever. He was scared, not knowing whether or not to ask of it. He internally took a deep breath, keeping his face impassive.

"A-ahh..." Yasuo sounded, trying to get used to once again speaking. "...For my last choice, I wish for you to accompany me on my journey!"

[Host's 'Final Wish' has been granted!]

Ah...it worked.