Dante stepped through the gates, and ran. He followed the paved street forward, before turning to enter the trees.
He weaved between the trees, his sword training having sharpened his senses to equal that of a veteran soldier. Even so, he was still scared. The Flightless Dragons weren't named for their armor, they were named for their strength. Each and every member of the group equalled a dragon and even the weakes dragon could take over a country, if not an entire continent.
To calm his nerves, Dante reached up to his chest and grasped his locket. It was made of cheap iron, but it was his mother's last gift to him. It was in the shape of a heart, and held a rose petal he had picked for her before her death.
Dante opened up the locket and stared at the rose petal as he ran, causing him to trip and bash his head into a rock.
And then, years worth of memories flooded into his mind. These memories were hazy and weak, but Dante could uncover a few details.
Firstly, these memories starred some sort of writer. Secondly, These memories were set in some sort of futuristic world and lastly, every memory of writing was accompanied with a wonderful emotion; the joy of creation.
Dante, laying on the ground, started wondering.
'Who's memories are these? Why were they so joyful simply writing? Can I ever be that happy? Was that my past life? Why-'
His thoughts were interrupted by a knife flying past his head and sticking into a tree behind him.
The source of the knife was one of the Flightless Dragons. Specifically, it was from Gaia, the name given to the Dragon specializing in Earth magic.
"Hello, young master."
Dante got up, and stared at the Dragon.
"Greetings, River."
Gaia, or, River used to be the maid assigned to Dante when he was young, before the family realised he was unable to summon any creature. As such, she has somewhat of a soft spot for him.
"Pick up the knife, young master. I wouldn't feel good killing you if you were helpless."
"And me having a knife will make you feel fine?"
"It'll make me feel better than if you didn't have it."
Dante reached out, and grabbed the knife from the tree. He then tried to stand up, but nearly fell while doing so.
He steadied himself, then got into a fighting stance while Gaia brandished her spade.
With no warning, and no countdown, the jumped toward each other. Gaia swung the spade, only for Dante to duck under it. He then swung his knife upward, but was blocked by the spade's large scoop.
Dante and Gaia clashed, blocked and dodged each other, until...
"You're playing with me, aren't you?"
"I don't want you to go so soon, young master."
Dante was exhausted, sweat dripped down his face as he gasped for air while Gaia barely even breathed.
"Go all out this time."
"As you wish, young master."
Dante lunged at the cloaked woman, who didn't even move. Just as his blade was abaout to reach her...
*CRRRK!*
A pillar of dirt shot out from the ground, shoving Dante backward and into a tree. He stumbled onto his knees and coughed up blood as Gaia stalked closer.
"Any last words, young master?"
Dante fell backward, unabale tk even kneel anymore.
He took out his locket, then looked at his knife. He chuckled.
"Heh... River, isn't this the knife you used to protect me when I was young?"
The woman's eyes widened.
"You have quite the memory, young master. It is, indeed."
"I guess... I guess you just left an impact on me, protecting me from all those assassins. You were only 12, weren't you?"
"I was."
"Heh. Yeah, I-"
Suddenly, a sound interrupted Dante's thoughts.
'High chance of death detected. Initiating Protocol: Deus Ex Machina.'
'Would you like to fuse [Mother's Locket] and [Maid's Knife] to summon [Thorned Cloak]?'
"H-Huh? I-I guess?"
The knife and locket with Dante's hands started crumbling to dust. This dust then started floating into the air and culminating into a mass behind Gaia.
"What was that, young mast-"
Just before she could finish her sentence, a knife- no, a thorn shot through her abdomen. Turning around, she was met with a mass of rose petals in the shape of a cloak. Within the cloak was a tangle of iron thorns.
"Y-Young master... How surprising..."
The cloak forced itself onto her body, fitting her into its form.
"This is... quite the summon, young master. I understand why you hid it..."
Dante watched in horror as the cloak's thorns grew in an instant, spearing through Gaia's dragon scale armor and killing her.
In the moments before her death, her eyes showed a fear that should have already been trained out of the Dragons.
Witnessisng such a sight should have scared Dante. Scarred him, even. But the only thing that scared him right now...
Was the pride he felt from the power of his creation.
He was cut out of his stupor by the voices of the other Dragons.
The [Thorned Cloak], seemingly sensing his thoughts, flipped inside out and draped itself onto Dante's shoulders.
He turned, and fled.