PROLOGUE

THE COARSE WIND blew, dragging against the uncovered tanned flesh of a male; his stance unwavering against the persistent wind, focused entirely on the task in hand. His dark copper hair blowing against his face, his feline-like eyes flickering side to side as he took a confident step forward, then another, and another as he edged closer to the end of the rock cliff, the scorched ground radiating off heat from the sun. 

Breathing in, chest rising slowly, he called out; his voice deep and thick as it echoed against the various cliff faces that surrounded him.

“Where are you?” He boomed, “The Dragon King of the East!”

And at once he went silent, focusing all his senses for some sort of response. The flapping of thick, leathery wings, the loud tremendous screech, or even the burning flames that would and bite at his flesh. But, instead, the only response he got was silence,

“Dragon King,” he tried again, voice unwavering as he persisted further in his quest. “I have come here to conquer you.”

And once again, silence was the response - the wind dying down at his second plea for the Dragon King of the East to come out of hiding, and the burning of the sun increasing once more. And at this, finally affected by the environment, the man his lips, his throat suddenly parched as he registered another being nearby, right behind him.

Then as he was about to pivot around to corner the stranger, he felt an inexplicable dominating aura surround him, stopping him in his tracks, his body stiff.

“Who are you, human?” A voice called out from behind him. The smooth and silvery tone foreign in comparison to the rugged and untamed wilds of Guangdong. An unusual being, definitely male by the huskiness of his voice, but one he did not recognize. “And what are you doing here, calling out to the winds for a Dragon King?”

Regaining his lost bearings, and flicking a short stone dagger in his hand, the male whirled around to meet the other who had snuck up on him. His dark eyes greeted with a frail looking figure who seemed to exude an air of calm nobility and yet an undertone of chaos. His silver cloak billowing in the harsh wind, while grey dyed leather cloths covered his pale body, contrasting to his dark black hair, and unnatural blue eyes.

Pinching his lips, stone dagger in hand - limp and forgotten - he answered the cloak draped male.

“My name is Yifan,” he started, taking a step closer to the other male. His dialogue serious and calm as he told the other about his intentions. “And I am here to tame the Dragon King of the East.”

A laugh was what he got in return, and in a moment, a very brief moment, he saw red. How dare this impudent brat laugh at his quest? A quest which was