Ok, I have made the decision that life is not fair. Because, I…. didn't get dragon booster rights for my Christmas. Instead, I got drawing supplies, the next beyonders book, book 3- which you guys should totally read-, and a tablet. Which, just for the record, if you want a tablet because you think it'll be just like a computer, just save your valuable time and money and buy a computer instead.

Oh, and btw, before I forget like last time, I was given this idea by bolt5678. She's an awesome author, but she hit a bad bout of authors block so for now, as far as I know, she can only post pictures of my little ponies on deviantart under her other name, dianagem. So, if you like this story, you have her to thank for it, so take a look at the original, would you?

P. S. I am accepting ocs, cause I intend to really flesh out the world of db with extra characters and stuff.

Now, on with the story!

Artha growled in frustration; this stupid piece of junk just wouldn't run properly. It seemed as if every time he fixed the mag-lines and mag-batteries, they just fizzed out again. It was almost as if something was interfering with the frequencies…..

Giving up, Artha left the game on the table. After leaving his room, he had come straight to the work shop, his favorite place in the Penn stable compound. As a young boy, Arhta had always had a love for building and tinkering with things. So, when he had turned ten, Connor Penn had given his son one of the stalls as a work shop.

Now, while not as talented as Parm- which was impossible, according to Artha- Artha was fairly proficient at mechanics.

And, yet, somehow the prototype on the table just wouldn't run correctly. Artha swept through the courtyard of the stables, on his way to find his father. Even if Connor Penn couldn't find a solution to his son's technical problems, Artha was sure that he would at least be able to help Artha calm down enough to not start world domination or something equally devious and violent.

Mordryd strode coolly to his father's office, mildly curious as to what his father would need him for. Usually, Mr. Payne didn't call his son with such an impatient summons. Mordryd sighed as he straightened his attire- it wouldn't do to be seen by his father as uncouth or un mannerly- and considered his father's recent disposition. Recently, Mordryd noticed that the elder Payne had been rather short tempered, distanced, and tense. It was almost as though he was waiting for something.

Whatever it was, Mordryd wished it could wait till later. He and his gang were getting ready to nab some dragons over by east side gardens. A fancy new breeder from out of town had moved in; perfectly naïve and ripe for the pickings.

Stepping into an elevator, Mordryd silently basked in a memory of his first time in the elevator, so many years ago, when Father had first had the tower built. Back then, it was all fun and games, tricks and pranks; no true thievery or falsehood within either Mr. Payne or his son.

A young Mordryd Payne toddled around the lobby. His long, shoulder length hair and delicate looks almost made him look like a little girl. At the age of three, he had somehow managed to get four of his five fingers into his mouth at once. Walking up to the shiny new receptionist's counter he took out his slobbery fingers and gifted the smooth hardwood with a wet high-five and a smiling grin. Continuing to grin, Mordryd began to swirl his hand along the spit covered surface, singing, "K'een up, K'een uh!" softly to himself.

Keeping up his delusion of cleaning the shiny new and unused furniture, Mordryd traveled from one end of the surface to the other. Reaching the edge of the polished wood, he stopped and looked around, looking for his Daddy; hoping for a new game to play.

Suddenly, Mordryd was grabbed by a monster from behind! The monster picked him up and put him onto its lap and unmercifully tickled him until he squealed for relief as it blew kisses into his sensitive and ticklish belly. This monster also shared his white hair and he knew it as Daddy.

Daddy put a giggling, grinning Mordryd down and said, "There's my little boy. Come on, now, let's go upstairs and quit bothering the painters."

Mordryd giggled and raced for the elevator, excited about riding the new "toy" for the very first time.

It wasn't long until the elevator dinged and father and son stepped inside, Mordryd giggling the whole way.

Daddy asked, "So what have you been doing, Mordy? Been having fun?"

"Mordy" grinned and replied, "Yuh! I keen uh! I keen uh!"

Daddy smiled, showing off his white teeth. "You cleaned up? Oh, you silly boy! Paynes don't clean, we have others to do that for us."

Mordryd grinned and giggled again, not entirely grasping what his Daddy was talking about.

Mordryd sighed as he thought of his younger days, when their little family was so much happier. However, over the years, Mr. Payne had been growing distant, more closed off from his son.

Shoving the worrying thought away, Mordryd strode out of the elevator as it chimed and turned toward his father's office.

The walk to get there took far too short a time, in Mordryd's oh, so humble, opinion. He stopped at the door, straightened his clothes, took a fortifying breath, and opened the doors.