This is the first complete fanfic I’ve written in, like, forever. It’s about two of my Dragon Ball OCs, Frigid and Flek, when they used to go to the same martial arts training camp. When they’re paired together for a sparring match, Frigid refuses to hold back, giving Flek quite the overwhelming fight. Click/tap to read.
True Power
Two young aliens were sparring in a raised, circular arena in front of an audience. The training camp was holding exhibition matches outside to show how much its members had grown since lessons had started that year. It was led by one of the instructors, a white and cyan frost demon named Wintren. He watched from beside the arena as one alien was pinned down, unable to free himself. “And the winner is Noro!” he announced through his microphone. Glancing at the roster, he called out the next match. “Next up is… Flek and Frigid.” Once the others stepped down from the platform, two more of Frieza’s race entered the stage.
Flek was a stunning young man—a tall, albino figure with silver covering his arms, legs, and the sides of his face. The many gem-like plates on his body were faceted on the insides, making them glimmer like polished crystal. He was quiet, focused on thinking about how he’d fight. Frigid stood across from him with an impassive expression. It was unusual for a 12-year-old to be paired with people already in high school, but she fought above her grade level. She was a very thin and wiry child, but she had more strength than her physique suggested. The small, devilish horns on her head were covered by a helmet that, as was the rest of her suit of bio armor, even paler than her lavender body. Shades of dull purple ran up her arms, legs, and face. From the outside, they seemed quite similar in how reserved they were, but they were very different people in battle. They both waited for Wintren’s word. “Ready… begin!”
Purple energy flared around her, the light reflecting in her deep amethyst gems. Flek’s light scarlet eyes were locked on her as he widened his stance and raised his fists. Frigid made the first move, rushing at him from the side and firing a burst of ki from her hand. He blocked it with his arm, and most of the energy bounced off one of his gems. She quickly sidestepped and swung a leg at his other side. She was fast, but Flek expected the blast to be a distraction.
His white aura bloomed to life, casting glints of light over the floor, and his tail wrapped around her leg. He threw a punch at her stomach, which she blocked, before landing an uppercut and a kick to her chest. Both of them could feel the energy from each hit run through them. She stumbled back, then fluidly lunged at him, a blade of bio armor extending from her arm guard and over the back of her hand. Her retractable blades grew naturally, making their use legal. He gasped and jolted back at the sudden swing. Thrusting out her other hand, she sent a wave of energy at him. He shielded his face, sliding back a few feet. She jumped over what was deflected back at her. Her ki was potent; it stung like he was being burned by flames.
Flek straightened himself out with a soft huff. They were both so quiet, even in battle, both light on their feet for their size. He waited for her to move before closing his eyes and firing a blinding burst of light from his hand. A few surprised gasps came from the the crowd as a flash of white suddenly filled their vision. Frigid covered her face with one arm to protect herself from the blast, using the other to blindly fire another wave. A ring of ki surged out from around her; she could feel the platform beneath her tremble from the force. Flek had already leapt into the air, floating in place above her. In the couple of seconds that her vision was impaired, he bombarded her with as many ki blasts as he could.
When the glow of energy dissipated, Frigid was still standing, glaring at him with piercing, green eyes. It hurt to move, her body covered in fresh burns and scorch marks, and she wanted to get him back. She was really only using a fraction of her strength, for she restrained her energy behind a different form. It was time to show him her true power. Her feet lifted off the floor, and violet energy erupted around her, growing stronger by the second. Her eyes grew warmer, fading into a bright red; her armor darkened and became more thin and sleek, her horns and every pointed edge growing longer. Dull violet scales covered her arms, legs, and parts of her chest and face. Her bio gems became a dark purple, nearly black, and the ones on the shoulders taper to a point. This was her natural appearance—more somber, and much more dangerous.
She flew at Flek, leaving a rush of wind behind her. She almost knocked him over with a kick to his ribs, and he barely caught her fist as she swung at his head, purely because his arm was already raised to block. “You’re… so much faster,” he said in surprise.
“This is how strong I really am,” she growled back, pulling her hand away. The blade cut his hand, making him grit his teeth and bite back a wince of pain. Streaks of purple crackled around her as she channeled all of her energy down through her arms. He backed away, forming another ball of light in his other hand. He threw it at her while she thrust out her hands and fired a blazing pillar of ki. It tore through the blast, shaking the arena as Flek shielded his face. His crystalline gems deflected some of it, but the beam was large enough to envelope him in its suffocating, violet flames. The roar of energy rushing past him drowned out his strained breaths as he was blasted off the platform.
Frigid walked up to the edge of the stage, and for an instant, everything was silent. Eyes were focused on the two of them, shocked, worried, impressed. She had the other camp members’ attention—she won, beat someone bigger and a few years older than her. Truthfully, she was impressed with herself. What happened to him wasn’t her problem. After struggling to stay conscious for a moment, only kept aware of what was happening by the pain flooding his body, Flek carefully sat up from the trough he’d left in the ground. Every move made it feel like he was on fire. He stared up at her with tears in his pale eyes. She wore a proud smirk on her face, crimson gaze boring into him without concern. He made a move to get up, but fell back with a strangled yelp as burning pain shot through his back and one arm.
Wintren quickly put down his microphone and flew over to him. He helped him sit back up, and began looking over his burns. His left arm was covered in discolored, bloody patches. The rest of his body had less severe burns scattered across his marble-white scales. Purple blood oozed from the scrapes on his back, dirt sticking onto him around the wounds. The instructor stood up. “Frigid is the winner,” he said uneasily. “We will continue in a moment…” Frigid stepped down from the platform, returning to the crowd in silence. She seemed to be lost in her own mind, almost entranced by her victory. It took Flek a few minutes before the pain became bearable enough to stand. He barely managed it, limbs trembling as he held onto Wintren with his good arm and wiped the tears from his face. He couldn’t even move his bloodied arm. The man soon took him to be treated by the camp’s medic. He knew another instructor would have to talk to Frigid and condemn her lack of restraint. After getting Flek there, he returned to the arena to continue the exhibition.
