Rebirth of The Strongest Celestial

Chapter 192: Lukas

Lukas

Young black in deep dark hills of Eastern Kentucky, Harlen County.

"Lukas hurry your ass up the TV people are here!" says a dark skinned woman, wide as she is friendly, she is wearing her Sunday best.

Lukas puts on his high school Dragonrider, the grandmother wallpaper peeling of his bedroom wall. He lifts his bed grabbing a pair of red sneakers. He almost slips on the broken rail on the way downstairs. Skipping like he has for the past four years the broken tiles at the foot of the stair case.

"Coach! What are you doing here?" asks Lukas startled at seeing his future coach here.

"Boy that is not how I taught you to start a conversation." His mother flicks with her strong hand.

"Sorry mam." Says Lukas.

"It's alright mrs---," says Coach Markhov. A man in his eighties with a full head of black hair, on his right hand last year's Nation championship ring.

"Just Miss, Miss Yuno," his mother says.

"Well Lukas, I'm here because unfortunately we have managed to secure the nation's top prospect and I would to offer a chance to be his reserve, you would still get your full ride to Dolton.

"That is not what we agreed too," Lukas's heart sputtering like a dying engine his blood thick old corroded oil. His jaw tense, palms going a little sweaty.

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"Son I know, but this is the best I can offer you now." says Coach Markhov his eyes not as apologetic as his tone.

"No you said if committed to Dolton early I could be the lead rider, you said we could win a championship together. Now you want to be on the reserve not even fly. Tell me coach for how long am I not going to fly, How will I make the National Flying League of I'm not flying." says Lukas doing his best to not rage but their is heat in his voice.

"Son I know how this sounds but it's not a raw deal as believe--" says Coach devoid of emotion like he just signing a piece of paper.

"He committed to your sir, you have to honor your deal, may not be the wisest woman but you have to honor your commitment." says his mother, who falls to the ground Coach standing over her.

"Don't get all uppity with me bitch, you will do as say or you can forgot about Dolton, or leaving the foot hills of this black mountain." says Coach.

Lukas fills with rage linking with Persephani his Hills Dragon. His eye change to match hers, golden slits. He fires forward his body blasting the Coach off his mother out the door.

"Ma, Ma are you okay?" Helping his mother up, her eyes wide, tearing up a shaking hand on his cheek.

"What have you done my boy?" as she says this, pushing his face to peir beyond the hole in the wall. Coach looking a dragon himself smirks matching Lukas eye for eye. Then he turns pretending to be frail and afraid yelling at the cameras.

"He is dragoncoiled everyone run!" the coach scrambles moving away from bumping into the Firefox News truck. The journalist starts broadcasting mathhing the coaches words.

"No, I didn't mean to mom. He lied to me, he said I was the one." Lukas says to his mother, his emotions boiling over, making it impossible to break the connection. That's when the Firefox News crew barges inot the house, with cameras pushing into his face, knocking his mother aside. His emotions boil over. He feels a strong jolt.

"Stop! GET OUT! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PEOPLE DOIN----" As Lukas tries to get back to help his mother she has hit her head against the TV stand, the cameras in his way. He roars  a breath of ice coming from him. It's grazes the Reporter she collapses wailing on the ground.

"He is insane someone help please someone!"

One month later, one week before school open in September.

"Coach please Markhov set me up, I will do anything to get a chance to fly please sir." says Lukas calling the hundredth College.

"No, no ways you think we want someone like you in our school we have a proud history." The phone drops for what feels like thousandth time on him. He has called every division three college, with a Dragonrider program. He throws his 2002 flip phone in frustration.

Lukas flies off into a rage again, he hasn't been the same since that day Coach Markhov darkened his door. His bedroom is now a patchwork of rhinoplasty. He can't even cry his tears dried up months ago.

The stories about Lukas have destroyed his image and has been painted as just another angry black boy. Firefox News running almost weekly stories on him.

His mother walks up the stairs, the years having piled on her in just a few months, she cracks open his door and says. "Come my child."

Lukas sees his mother, her magnificent locks greying, for the first time he thinks, "she looks so frail." His heart sinking a little.

"I won tell you again boy, you best get to stepping." she says holding out a hand. Lukas puts on his best smile, holding her hand and following downstairs. He rubs his across the holes he has made over the past few months, each a painful reminder of how his attitude is destroying his life. He stops slipping out of her grasp, a man a Dragonrider jacket, the scales a dead give away, sits smoking a pipe.

"Boy you best get on." she says.

"No mama who this man---" says Lukas.

"Son---" says the man Lukas erupts.

"I ain't your son, I'm hers." says Lukas pointing at his mother.

"Boy get your butt on this chair right here, right now." she says her tone almost happy even thou she has raised her voice. Lukas knowing his mother and her pension for throwing pot lids decided to listen.

"Say what you have to old man." Lukas says sitting Dragon pose with his arms folded in front of him head low.

"I see even without a bond you still have some of her traits. Rather impressive you must have a had a good relationship?" says the man. His face alive with greed. He hasnt blinked since he caught glimpse of Lukas.

"I hear you talking old man, but you ain't saying nothing. Ma who is this old ass guy." says Lukas dodging a pot lid that flew from the kitchen.

"I told you about cussing in my house, Pendragon's ghost give me strength to not kill this boy." His mother says continuing her meal in the kitchen.

"Sorry I forgot to introduce myself. I am Brigadier General Lincoln, Coach at Tubman War Academy."

"Your from the Northern Conference, why is one of you here." says Lukas.

"Indeed I'm from the land of free and home the brave, none other like it. I'm here to give a chance." says the general.

"Pssf, a chance at what. Leaving my home to never come back. living my life as traitor to the Union. They will kill my mother." says Lukas

"You call this living, being a coiled out everywhere you go. Must be some life you have can you even get at job flipping steaks." A plume of smoke leaving his pipe.

"It ain't nothing just some thought times." says  Lukas

"Seems to me your kind has been having a hard time since the Dragon's Peace in 1854." says the General.

"So you what, life has always been hard for my kind. Since Merlin Pendragon conquered the America's that's when my people started suffering." says General Lincoln.

"Lincoln get on with my chilli sauce is almost done." The way his mother to the general surprised him. He hasn't heard her so happy in long time. He wonders about that why she is so happy, is it because of the general or is their something else going on. He rubs his father's War Drag Medal, a small almost bronze coin like medal.

"Alright Mona, just get him to listen. He must agree on his own you know the law." says General Lincoln. His mother rubs her hands on her purple apron, moving to the table.

"Lukas, please my boy. I love you and I watched you slowly lose your way. Listen to this man and he is an old friend, I promise you it will be okay." says Mona.

The smoke filling the room, Lukas finally changing to more open pose thou his arms are still crossed. She hums as moves back towards the kitchen sounds of plates and utensils. Lukas nods signaling the general to speak his peace.

" As a member of the Northern Conference Alliance, you are formally granted Asylum, under the Yang Proclamation of 1994. This is a conditional asylum. As laid out in the Proclamation you will have to serve in the military for a mandatory minimum of five years." says General Lincoln.