DRAHOMÍRA

The tallest tower of the king's seven, surrounded by a massive mountain range and thick with snow three-quarters of the year. Coincidentally it was also the place Princess Fenice was meant to be placed for her trials and the exact place the dragon had been spotted near.

Lailoken of House Vaugrenard clutched his head tightly during the entire briefing of his nearly impossible mission and when it was over, he glared tiredly up at the steward.

It was a seven-day journey to Drahomíra from Artois. Locke would have a horse but only until the mountain range and then he would have to track the scaly beast through the pathways and climb at a steep angle until he made it to the gates of the tower.

Considering his size, he couldn't ride the horse, but at least it could carry his armour for him.

And he would need to leave soon. The summer season was just ending and ruthless snow storms would be running rampant through the mountains in the next few weeks. Those would surely kill them both even if he did succeed in rescuing the princess alive.

In one of the most dreaded moments of his life, Locke had met with the King himself. It was no mystery as to how His Magesty felt about his daughter's life being in the hands of the most infamously disgraced knight.

No one thought well of Locke, he was more hated than any one man. If it were not for the list and his name written in the princess' hand, he would never have been chosen for such an important mission.

He could practically feel their revulsion coming off in waves but Locke wouldn't allow it to sway him.

Felix, god bless him his old friend, was the only man who gave Locke an encouraging smile as they went to get him fitted with proper armour.

Which was a whole other disaster entirely.

None of the suits fit, not even the largest size and after several hours of embarrassment, the black knight accepted the fact he would have to wear his own.

Then there was the official ceremony, blessing him for the difficult journey as thousands of onlookers watched.

He knew what they were thinking, and he could hear them in the streets. Why would such a sweet and kind hearted princess like the king's eldest daughter ask for such a disreputable man as Lailoken Vaugrenard? It was a mystery to king and country and even Locke himself why she chose him, but he was going to do it, and if he failed, then special preparations would need to be made.

But the enforcer of the Vaugrenard family knew that if anyone had a chance of winning the princess, it would be him. He would do anything to ensure his success even if it wasn't completely legal or moral.

After the ceremony, it was six days and nearly nineteen hours later when an exhausted, panting, black knight with no rations left, no horse and only a sword -wearing a full suit of armour no less- heaved himself up the final stairs to the dreaded tower of Drahomíra.

The hunting grounds of the dragon.

Locke gave himself a moment to catch his breath as a slick sweat developed on his forehead. The helmet he wore was sticky with it and cloudy from the steam. It was barely the end of summer and there was already a layer of snow on top of the plateau.

In some areas, it had actually been quite thick and Locke had to find that out the difficult way.

But now he was at the tower and it suddenly came over him that this was the place that would change his life... or end it.

He scanned the skies for any moving bodies, but it was empty. He stalked closer to the tower and passed through the wrought iron fence. There were crumbling walls, and signs of wildlife growing out of every nook.

Locke breathed heavily and hesitantly scanned the platform for bodies.

The grounds surrounding Drahomíra were entirely flat and barren, a courtyard fit for a wintry tomb. Locke squinted at the top of the tower where the cone roof was and he spotted what looked to be a gargoyle.

However, with a stutter in his heart, Locke quickly hid behind a nearby wall when he realized what he was looking at was the dragon perched on the side of the tower.

It was big. That was his first thought. Most of the bred dragons were rarely larger than a horse.

This beast was as big as three horses magicked together.

Against his better judgement, he checked the wall again, but the dragon had only moved a small fraction. He could clearly see from his hiding spot that there was no frozen blood or bones stuck to the icy surface of the courtyard. For all Locke knew, the princess might have somehow escaped and hid in the tower.

A dragon might kill a person but they rarely ever ate them, it was something about the flesh of humans that disgusted them.

He looked back to the dragon. It was a bright red, easy to spot against the backdrop of white-capped mountains and grey skies. It had one set of back feet and to wings sprouting from its shoulder in the place of arms which meant it was a wyvern. Leander knew next to nothing about wild dragons from his studies before the journey, but the information he had been given seemed to suggest that even the captive beasts were clever.

Then there was the matter Locke was most wary of.

Could it be a fire breather?

There was only one way to find out.

Suddenly the black knight rounded the corner of his hiding place and shouted at the beast, drawing its attention with a boisterous yell.

"You made me climb an entire bloody mountain in a full suit of armour," Locke roared.

The dragon's rectangular head swung in his direction. Two blazing eyes the colour of scorched desert and filled with all of hell's fury met the black knight.

Still, Locke continued to shout across the barren square. "And you're going to hand over the princess now or I'm going to have a new pair OF DRAGON SKIN BOOTS!"