Disclaimer: A bow of respect to the original creator Shotaro Ishinomori and Adness Entertainment's Steve and Micheal Wang and Jimmy Sprauge for their unified creative brilliance.
Takes place after Sting was vented. This was salvaged from my other KRDK fiction; "Wing's Knight's Tale" (renamed 'Secrets of the Advent'). Despite the less-than-stellar plot, there were some bits I liked. First (posted) KRDK since the show ended/was canceled.
Okay, canon gave me a hard time about the precise time frame of this 'canonish' story so this takes place during/after 'Letter From the Front Line' and before Kase makes her appearance. You'll figure out all the other timing things as you read. Some canon events have been pushed back a bit.
Private Thoughts, "Radio/Cellphone", :Advent Beasts/Speaking through the Mirror:, "Vent Announcement."
Full Story Summary
Chris Ramirez, the Terran Kamen Rider Sting, was a medically discharged asthmatic Marine who had grown up wanting to and being expected to carry on the family tradition as a Marine. His asthma was a constant bane to him, rendering him unable to fight for long periods of time and making him, ultimately the weakest link when he saw past Xaviax's lies and joined Wing Knight and Dragon Knight (Len Matheson* and Kit Taylor) in their fight for Earth.
And this weakness led him to sacrifice himself to prevent Wing Knight's venting, invoking mourning and guilt amongst the friends he had made during his tenure as a Kamen remnants of Chris's legacy manifests as his younger sister, a talented graduate of military school with a special gift and Xaviax will do everything in his power to use her blood relation with the fallen Marine against the Protectors of Earth.
Kamen Rider Dragon Knight Fanfiction
Clepsydra - Chapter 1: Clear the Water
Len had thought he should quit being a Rider after Chris's venting but he knew it was stupid. The Earth was in danger, the Ventarran people were enslaved and all the original Riders had been vented. Kit, Maya and Trent needed his guidance, his experience because if he was vented or if her quit, Kit would continue to fight and Maya and Trent would put themselves in danger trying to help him.
On the streets of Los Angeles, Len wove his motorbike through traffic with the ease of practice, not even worrying about his destination.
Gramercy Heights Park - 9:55 am
Len guided his cycle on foot, helmet on seat, across a wide concrete road towards a wide lawn where people were already gathering. Narrowing his eyes against the glare of the sun glinting off the clear blue waters of the very lake for which the park was nick named, he replaced his sunglasses and parked the bike next to a pile of rocks. A wide space had been left open in the grassy valley before the lake, trees lining the valley. Some had dared to invade the flat space, some clusters of trees creating shade.
Len took control of the tree cluster arching over a smooth grass filled spot of the rock pile, in a two-person sized space, stretching out against the smooth rock face in the shade of the tree cluster, settling down to wait. The area was filled with chatting teenagers and families, couples on blankets holding hands, picnicking people, sunbathers...Len took it all in, analyzing the area just as he learned to the hard way in his younger days as a Rider.
As he glanced around, a nine person group of young men and women around the ages of 15 and 25, stopped at the valley's center and began setting up their supplies and exercise mats. Two of them were clearly just assistants. A tall red-haired man in blue jeans and a green shirt—whom Len knew as Dylan from previous shows –was giving orders, giving words of encouragement to the performers.
Every week on a good weather Friday, this troupe would pop down here to the park and perform for whoever showed up. It was almost always different: Len found it hard to believe they could keep churning out new material.
Whenever he could, Len watched simply to relax and ease his stormy mind but he knew none of their names. The six performers were wearing long white robes with long hoods drawn over their faces as if they were sorcerers or something, so it was impossible to see their faces for the moment. With a sigh of frustration, Len sat down again, folding his arms and leaning back.
The crowd began to quiet down as Dylan moved forward. He waved for quiet as the troupe arranged themselves in formation behind him.
"Thank you all for coming," he called the same way he did every Friday. "I am Dylan. Today, we've come up with an interesting bit, something new," The crowd murmured excitedly: anything new was always a treat. "We're going to need everyone to stand back," he instructed, gesturing with his hands. There was no argument; the front row shuffled backward.
"And now the Soul Star acrobatic troupe humbly presents to you..." If it had been a theater, the lights would've turned down dramatically. "The Dance of Swords."
Immediately, the troupe had spun into action as the girl threw aside their robes into the hands of one of the two assistants, revealing 3 girls and 3 boys in colorful costumes of different designs but same color theme of maroon and black.
They sprang into the air even as the silver glint of unsheathed swords flashed through the air, ribbons whirling as the girls flipped through hoops, thrown into the air. One girl dressed in a mahogany knee length tunic tied by a black silk sash and loose black breeches whipped out a sword, rolling to her feet as her blade met that of a fellow performer with a clash of steel. Her shoulder length brown hair was tied out of her face by a long white ribbon tied into a bow.
She whirled, completely focused, closing her eyes as she spun into a crouch, getting into the feel of it all as her blade swung towards her opponent's feet as if preparing to relieve him of his legs. The other sword flashed through the air as he sprang above it, the blade just nicking the thick leather sandals as he cut downwards. He missed because the sword dancing girl had twirled to her feet with little effort and flipped upwards through the hoops landing on the shoulders of two male performers.
Len let all thoughts of Xaviax fade away, letting himself just live for a little bit, be a normal person as he watched the mahogany and black blur work in sync with her comrades as they danced in the air, wowing the crowds and steal their breath away with daring heart stopping movements and tricks.
He stood up to get a better view, glasses off as he leaned against the tree.
As he watched, the performance grew more dangerous as torches were added, tossed from hand to hand, through hoops thrown higher and higher as the girls leaped higher still, into the air, bending their bodies through and over hoops or coils of ribbon. The crowd was silent, completely enthralled, utterly spellbound. Not even a baby cried, their big eyes opened wide in amazement.
At last though, the progression higher into the air ended as they journeyed to the ground once more until only the Sword Dancer remained, defying the laws of gravity, leaping and flipping up the five-person pyramid as a girl assistant tossed several plates and a hoop into the air gently but with height as they spun ten feet above the ground.
She sprang into the air with a slight boost from the pyramid's top girl, the sword flashing like a silver streak, cutting through the plates like butter with quick efficient slashes. Cutting shapes of flowers, of crescents, she made no more strokes than necessary. They clattered to the ground as her foot tapped the still airborne hoop and she flipped to the ground, landing cat-like on her feet and sheathing her sword even as she fell into a deep bow on one knee, eyes to the ground. She was breathing hard but not very, not even out of breath. She had been well trained and had clearly put in hours, even years, of effort and practice.
There was a stunned silence, the silence nearly becoming overwhelming in the shocked ten second time span between the final stunts and…. The valley exploded into sound, erupting: anyone coming by might have though it was an actual explosion. Whistles and cheers rang out; cries of "Encore, Encore!" could be heard in the din of noise. Some had been stunned into silence.
Len just smiled, a delighted smile and clapped.
The show was over. Everyone was packing their things or sticking around for picnics and a day of fun. Len, though, had better things to do than sit around under the sun…although it was a nice prospect…Len shook his head clear of any stupid ideas, skidding down the rocks with ease and landing next to his motorcycle. Prefect; just as he'd left it.
He glanced over at where he'd last seen the troupe. Some were accepting donations and praise from families, couples and enthusiastic kids, most of whom were imitating the swordplay. The others were packing their equipment into a large van.
Len couldn't keep a small smile from his face. A lot of parents were going to have their hands full upon returning home that night. Not wanting to get mixed up in all of that chaos, he hung back, keeping the Sword Dancer in his sights. She was smiling, her dark brown eyes crinkled in amused laughter as she signed something for an eager looking boy.
Her long dark brown hair was tied back into a braid, bangs falling in her right eye. Her lightly tanned skin seemed smooth but laced with several long healed scars and her fingers looked to be bandaged with long white tape. Len frowned, circling around the group casually on his motorbike. Why did she look so familiar?
"Hey, Neva, you wanna come with us? We're all going down to the pizza shack later." One of the other troupe members, the Asian boy from the performance attempted to make his spiky and messy hair more orderly although it was obvious his attempts were futile.
"Nah, I was gonna head over to the museum and then look around for my brother." she explained, gathering her silver-hemmed jean jacket and slipping it on over her acrobat clothes. She picked up her backpack. "I'll meet up with you later."
"He still hasn't called you back?"
"Not since he and Dad had a huge shouting match and he ran out of the house. He was really bummed out about his asthma, you know? And Dad is such a thickhead-he cares more about tradition than his son's own life it seems."
Len's ears pricked. Her brother had asthma? A father who hated it? What tradition? Why did this sound so familiar?
A feeling of dread began to gather in Len and he breathed, forcing himself to calm down. Don't jump to conclusions.
"Well, I'll see you guys later." Neva said, setting off as she waved goodbye over her shoulder.
"You're not gonna change? We gotta a tent this time!" One of the girls called.
"No, I'm fine. See you later!"
Len darted behind the tree, revving his motorcycle and heading around on the opposite path on the other side of the lawn. He drove slowly, watching her carefully. She was in a rush in seemed and she kept up a steady jog, before arriving at the entrance to the park. Dashing pass people and families, smiling and waving calling politely to everyone, she dodged around them as a kid slapped bang into her, dropping his action figure.
As he watched, before the kid could do more than open his mouth as it went sailing through the air, Neva had woven through traffic, used a bench seat as a springboard and leaped, hopping off the bench back and snatched it out of the air. She landed lightly on the bench's back edge with one foot but slipped, pin wheeling her arms and hopped off in an attempt to regain center-gravity. It didn't work and she ended up slipping and collapsing in a tangled heap with a shriek of surprise and dismay. She groaned as Len stared. The family rushed to her aid, babbling apologies.
Fortunately, she seemed to perfectly fine, hopping it her feet as if nothing had happened. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she assured them, making more excuses as she dashed off, shouting good bye over her shoulder. Len had a hard time following her through the crowds and had to resort to the mirrors several times.
Len followed her to an empty plaza of buildings - walls of glass and white stone on all sides, red-tiled courtyard.
"Oops. I think I took a wrong turn..." She twisted a strand of hair in her hand as she jogged across the empty square, looking around curiously. Len's eyes narrowed. No cover…a strange warping, piercing sound, sharper than any music met his ears.
Neva was getting a prickly feeling on the back her neck. Walking quickly, she scanned the area, her hand wrapping around something tucked into the waistband of her pants. She shifted her stance, scanning the are and spotted a man on motorcycle out of the corner of her eye. She paused, not moving, not wanting to give herself away.
Wasn't he at the park earlier? Something else caught her attention a movement. She turned towards it slowly, poised for battle and shrieked in surprise as several red and black figures with giant shuriken on their backs, emerged from the windows running towards her. She swore slowly, pushing her mind's clamor for a logical explanation away, focusing on using her sight.
One of the mirror monsters attacked her determinedly, swinging what looked to be a strange-looking giant shuriken. She ducked, hands poised as she threw a few punches to its gut and flipped backwards, landing on her feet.
She heard a whoosh of wind behind her; she whipped around as the thunk of leather hide hit hard muscle covered by denim jeans. She turned slightly, dodging a swing of a strange weapon as another monster went flying backwards disarmed and sent flying as the rescuer, whoever he or she was, leapt into the air, delivering a painful sounding kick in its chest.
Neva gaped at him as he took a defensive pose, guarding her back. "Thought you needed some help," He said casually, his gaze roving over the ten or so mirror monsters advancing towards them.
"Who are you?" Her tone was meant to sound commanding; instead she sounded flustered.
"Not really important right now," he murmured. He darted to the side, kicking out at a bolder monster that'd advanced too close.
"Left, Left!" Neva darted in the opposite direction, lunging forward and twisting her arm around the attacking Red Newt's and flipping onto its shoulders, facing away from its face…or what passed as a face. She fell forward on another's shoulders tilting the other one forward and slamming them into each other and launching herself over the dissipating monsters, landing on her feet softly in a crouch, holding most of her weight off the ground. She felt a wave of satisfaction. It had taken her at least six months to master that.
She gasped as a Black Newt darted into her path, attacking with a long sword as another grabbed her from behind, inducing another gasp of shock as it pulled her arms behind her back. A growl of anger sounded from behind her as the mystery man came between her and the monster, twisting into the air and landing right on its arms as he punched it in the face. It released her, immediately sending her crashing onto the ground again as it stumbled back from the stranger's furious assault.
The other monster attacked her again, raising its long sword and chopping down with it as if it was an axe. Neva rolled to her feet and swung her foot in a neat crescent kick that quickly disarmed the mirror monster and sent the sword into the air. She darted for it, sliding under the monster's reaching hand expertly and retrieving the sword, snatching it out of the air, loving the way it settled into her palm with ease.
She whipped it up into the guard position, ducking the monster's fist and attacking with a battle dance of whirling slashes and cuts, flipping and weaving out of the way of the clumsily swings of the monster's giant shuriken.
It felt strangely natural to be fighting an other-worldly monster but maybe that was just the fight talking. Fight now, think , escape.
It's always nice to be able to rescue a story from a fiery demise. :) Please review and tell me what you think!
* Clepsydra: (to steal water) Means water thief. Was a Greek Water Clock
* Len Matheson (It annoys me when characters don't have last names. His surname is in honor of the actor who portrays Len, Matt Mullins.)
-Updates should come every Thursday unless stated otherwise.