The Death of a Friend. (open to friends of Red Dragon)

Two Months Earlier
The teenager shuffled through the streets, in the rain. His hair was dirty, plastered to his cranium because of the rain. His eyes, staring at his feet as he sadly walked, were vacant and almost dead-looking.  His clothes were tattered, but if one looked closely they would see them to be the remnants of a black uniform, with a dark red T incorporated into the design. He looked like he'd definitely seen better days.

A week ago, possibly more, he didn't know, he'd looked completely different. His hair was clean and flowed with the wind, and more importantly, his eyes were vibrant jade orbs, full of life and purpose. But everything changed so fast. He'd found new friends, friends he cared about. But then the law was passed. Half of his friends were suddenly his enemies. He'd been so confused.

And then another change. One of his best friends, the mage Kale, left the team. The teen really didn't know what to think, after that. So he left too. He didn't feel like he belonged, anymore. And now he was just wandering aimlessly down this dirty, rainy street. He knew he was pitiful, but he just didn't know what his life was anymore.

His dead eyes glanced up at a sound. A white magical circle was opening on the ground just in front of him, gleaming and glowing brightly. He stopped to watch it, as another boy appeared in the center of the circle. The boy was much more prim and proper than his dirtier counterpart. His hair was white-blonde, cut and groomed in perfect angles and curves, framing his perfect, pale face, with bright sapphire eyes. He was dressed in a fine jacket, slacks, dress shoes, a collared shirt. He had his hands behind his back as he disdainfully looked down on the dirty teen.

"My my, how the Welsh Dragon has reached new lows," the blonde teen said, as the magic circle at his feet faded away. The Welsh Dragon, or so he was called, just looked down sadly again, knowing that he looked pathetic. This stranger just rubbed it in. "Who are you...?" he asked pitifully.
The blonde teen smirked, holding his hand out. This caused the other boy's hand to jump up as if reacting to the blonde teen's own arm. The blonde teen glowed white momentarily, before a white, metallic, and draconic set of wings suddenly appeared in a small burst of light. The lower half of the wings glowed blue. Reacting to this, the Welsh boy's hand also formed a glove, red in contrast to white, with a green gem.

The blonde teen laughed. "I am the White Dragon, but my name is Gregor. It was our destiny to meet. Our destiny to battle. I even traversed across a dimensionial divide to get to you...Damian." The dirty boy, Damian slightly acknowledged that his name had been said. But he didn't look up, his gloved hand slumping at his side.

Gregor sighed, and stepped forward. Damian had slumped to his knees at this point, Gregor scornfully watching him. "You won't fight me? Then should I hunt down your friends?" This elicited a reaction. Damian glared up at him. "You won't go near them..." Gregor grinned upon hearing this. "I won't, will I? Hmm, if you say so."

Gregor suddenly changed, a white armor extending out over his body, blue gems inlaid in his chest piece. He gained clawed gauntlets, clawed greaves, and a long tail made of white metal. Damian leapt at him, but wasn't fast enough, as the armored teen flew back across the street, grabbing a small girl who had been watching the fight. She screamed as the sharp claws dug into the skin of her neck.

Damian growled, facing the villainous Gregor. "Let her go, you freak..." he said weakly. Gregor laughed, his voice amplified by his technomagical armor. "You will have to make me, Red Dragon." The gem on Damian's glove glowed, followed by a voice. Boost! He had gained more power, but it wasn't much. He leapt, easily dodged by the much faster English Dragon. In addition, once he was near Gregor, he instantly lost the power, as it was absorbed into his glowing wings. Damian fell, feeling weaker than before. Gregor laughed at him.

"How pitiful. Now, I'm going to kill this girl, then I'm going to kill your friends, unless you will man up and really fight me." Gregor threw the girl to the floor, his sharp tail poised to impale her heart. Damian suddenly blacked out, finding himself floating. All around him was bright red-orange fire, and floating in front of him was a massive red dragon, with bright green eyes.

"So, we finally meet face to face, Damian," the dragon said. Damian looked around, confused and also afraid. "Who are you- well, you're the Welsh Dragon right? -but that little girl is gonna get killed..." He sounded frantic, but the dragon only chuckled. "Do not worry, she will be fine. As long as you do something for me..."

Damian's eyes suddenly opened again. It was the same split second as before, the tail was poised to strike. Damian got up, his willpower becoming his muscles and his determination becoming his bones, propelling him forward. As he moved, red segments of draconic armor appearing over his body, and at first, he was surprised. But he took advantage of the newfound speed and strength, his armored fist colliding with the white metal of Gregor's helmet. The sheer force sent him flying, scraping along the asphalt of the street.

Gregor looked up, the helmet having shattered and falling off in pieces. He grinned, finally getting the fight he wanted as the little girl ran off. Damian stood, slightly hunched, green arcs of energy coming off of him as his glove shouted Boost! over and over, his power levels exponentially growing. As he approached Gregor, the wings tried to absorb the large amounts of energy; but there was simply too much, and the armor shattered, leaving him with only the wings, which were quaking with the amount of power they were trying to contain.

Damian stood over Gregor, raising his fist, but Gregor smirked. "You're so angry. Are you going to kill me?" Damian flinched, but quickly nodded and swung downwards. However, Gregor suddenly had his armor back, deflecting with his tail and sending Damian skidding back. "Temper, temper, Damian."

Damian grimaced underneath the helmet and lunged again, trying to land a blow but constantly being deflected. He was forced back again, onto his back. Gregor was venting energy as fast as he was gaining it; effectively rendering Damian's advantage useless. Angrily, Damian looked around, spotting a cracked blue orb from Gregor's previous set of armor. He picked it up, getting a response from the dragon, Ddraig.

"Do you know what you're doing? The White Dragon is our polar opposite, taking his power will probably kill you-" Damian sighed. "If I don't stop him, he'll hurt a lot more people. He's a monster, and I have to become the same to beat him." The dragon paused for a while, before speaking again. "You're so headstrong, you can achieve the impossible. I've enjoyed fighting at your side, Damian."

Damian nodded, taking the orb in his palm and focusing. Gregor watched curiously, wondering what he was doing but not attacking. Damian groaned as he suddenly felt intense pain as he tried to force the power to become his own. It was slowly working, but at a cost. Suddenly his right arm became white, with a blue gem, a mirror to Gregor's gauntlet. Damian breathed heavily, then regained himself. He pressed the gloves together, causing a spark.

Gregor tilted his head. "Well well...I underestimated you. I didn't think anyone could be so stupid as you. You'll surely die now." Damian looked at his counterpart, standing up straight and saying, "Maybe...but, you first." He suddenly blasted with his red arm, a massive beam of red hardlight that collided with Gregor head-on. Damian charged after it, unleashing smaller bursts which shattered pieces of his armor once more, until even the wings were gone.

Damian stood over him, almost out of energy. "Goodbye..." he said, blasting a green ray. Gregor cried out in pain as he suddenly became a ghost of green light, which Damian absorbed into the white glove. But his time was up. He looked down at himself, and he was becoming unstable. His armor shuddered and fell off, but Damian looked different. His hair was back to normal, his eyes weren't dead anymore. He looked to the little girl who had been watching this whole time.

He smiled to her. "I wish we coulda been friends, maybe. Sorry it didn't go so well..." He closed his eyes, still smiling as he turned into a green ghost of light himself. And then he was gone.

Present
The little girl stood at a gravestone, one paid for by her family to be put just here, under a big oak tree. On it read,

"In memory of the Red Dragon,
A good man, a great hero,
And the greatest of friends."

The girl set down a few small flowers, rumpled up but still nice nonetheless. She ran off to her mother to leave, leaving the spot open for other visitors.