Thin layers of hammered metal clang together loudly as the robust form of Kris flies backward, the assault of magical energy that is sent his way is a surprising blow. Spinning in the air like a brilliant top, the towering warrior manages to land on his feet. He stands begrudgingly and stares his opponent down. The monster is a demonic wind spirit, a brilliantly colored ogre riding upon angry clouds; billowing plumes of hair make the creature more imposing. The battle has been long and difficult, Kris finding that his abilities in his current state are not sufficient to deliver the deathblow.

“Don’t give up, fight!” comes the dulcet command from behind, Kris cocking his head back. Viewing through a crack in the side of his protective helm, Kris can make out the willowy form of the prince sitting high upon his elevated throne. Dressed in royal colors of crimson and purple, a gilded crown perched upon his mane of curls; His Highness Park Chanyeol is the master of a sacred beast and is skillful in wielding him in battle. The partnership between man and guardian wyrm is a special one, unique in the realm of mythical mayhem.

But how did that connection come to exist? Kris reflects for a brief moment as he faces his foe down once more, gripping his lancet tightly. The battered blade is caked in the dried blood of his victims yet somehow retains its shine; perhaps the connotations of death give it a symbolic aura in the subconsciousness of the mind.

Nimble feet dance upon the splintered pavement of the destitute courtyard, the lancet lifted up high as Kris charges forward. Everything about the male’s countenance seems to glow, his appearance losing its majestic eminence as the transformation takes place, the tyrannical dragon revealing itself. That statement of reassurance is enough to give Kris the determination needed to win.

He understands clearly why he calls Park Chanyeol master.

A/n: to be expanded upon at a later date; critique and grammar corrections greatly appreciated.