As the soldier fell, Mitrax felt himself tensing up.

“Mitrax? You okay?” Christol asked, resting a warm hand on Mitrax’s clenched fist. No, Christol, I’m not okay. I keep getting reminded of things I should have forgotten about long ago. I keep seeing my father’s own anger in me, my own failures in front of me, and my mother’s tears behind me. No, I'm not okay.

“I’m alright, Christol. Thanks, though. Let’s get moving.” Christol smiled gently before removing his hand and racing after Artuck and the others, who were engaged in battle with the soldiers of Halden. Restoring, honor, huh? Time to prove my father wrong.

Mitrax will never forget that night. He’d just turned eighteen, the day all dragonborns were to become a part of the active community. Mitrax’s father had taken him to try out to become a royal guard, but instead, Mitrax had gotten beaten, and pretty badly too. He could still feel the aching from the opponent he faced, and the bruises were a reminder of his loss.

His sister was helping him get cleaned up as they listened to their parents having a fight in the other room. 

“You throw him around like a raw piece of meat! It was supposed to be a show of training! Not a blood bath!” His mother yelled, and her tears could be heard as her voice broke.

“He needed to be shown what a real fucking man is, I’m not raising a bitch here, I’m not letting my only god damn son turn into a wench” His own father loved to call him that when he was upset. Made him feel better about himself, Mitrax believed. 

The two continued their fight, a yelling match worthy of a public debate. As Mitrax tried to not listen, a cold rag being brushed against his skin knocked him out of the state of mind he was trying to keep himself trapped in. The rag, now a pinkish red from his blood, was soaked in water. Clearly, his sister had added more water to not let it stain too badly. 

“I’m sorry…” Mitrax mumbled. 

His sister set down the rag, and entered the room where the argument was taking place, before she piped up, breaking the silence between the two. Mitrax didn’t say anything, as he just wanted to go to bed, wanted to pull out that book and get lost in the pages again.

He retreated back to his room, and the cool nighttime air once again eased him as he face planted onto his bed. He got under his soft wool covers and closed his eyes, trying his damndest to ignore the obvious pain he was in.

The book! He was tired and needed sleep, but yet it called to him from under his pillow. He quickly sat up, and groaned from the pain, but he ignored it. Mitrax pulled out the heavy book, opening to the first page and was instantly greeted with a warm hello by a man who’s name Mitrax didn’t recognize. But he soon flipped to his favorite part, a page about illusions. It was something he always thought seemed so cool and they made him feel as if he could shape his world into something that he could love. He could warp reality as he wished! 

The magic danced around his fingers as he spoke the incantation, the soft and fuzzy form of an apple appeared in his palm. He wasn’t yet at a place where he could focus enough on the items he made, but he was happy with what he could do. He didn’t know how hard some of these other spells would be, since he had only ever gotten to do the small spells that could be hidden away in his room. 

Mitrax enjoyed the apple in his hand, he made it spin… made it roll around, he could even make it float about an inch off his palm before he lost focus and it fizzled away. The dragon let out a sigh as he touched the yellowing pages of the book. He could feel something when touching this magical item… he wasn’t sure what the feeling was but he knew it was something. It made him feel alive, made him feel… strong. 

Heavy footsteps soon made their way to his closed door. Mitrax panicked as he tried to close and hide his book in time, but it was too late as his door swung open, revealing a big, burly silhouette. There was his dad, his face one of fury and anger, his body coiled as if ready to pounce. The book was still out and this was the new point of interest, as he saw his father’s gaze go to it. 

“THAT DAMN BOOK!” He yelled as he barged into Mitrax’s room. Yelling could be heard in the background, from his mother, his sister, and the two baby dragons’ crying.

Mitrax could feel his breathing become unsteady, his nerves shaky. Suddenly, the large man lunged towards Mitrax, anger burning in his eyes as he ripped the book from his son’s grip. No! The book! Please! Mitrax’s father soon roared a flame at the book, and Mitrax could only watch as the scene unfolded. The light from the flames burning Mitrax’s eyes, the heat burning his already tender skin, but the yell that followed. The yell that filled the house as the ashes of the book fell to the floor. My hopes! My… light. My dreams… no. Everything that I wanted was in that book. Emotion began to fill Mitrax as he sat there, looking at what was once his life goal. He wanted to let go, and unleash a torrent of pain upon his father, but Mitrax sat still. Tears began to fill Mitrax’s eyes as he put his head to the floor. As the tears fell to the floor, Mitrax felt a new emotion rising inside of him. One he hadn’t felt before. 

“HOW COULD YOU?” Mitrax yelled, a beam of light being shot from his hand, smoke filling the air.

Mitrax closed his eyes and stood. He didn’t know if the blast was enough to knock his father over, or even make him budge, but after a millennium of keeping his eyes closed, he opened them to see his father standing in the exact same place, wiping the dust from his snout.

“YOU DARE USE MAGIC IN MY HOUSE, BOY?” The man began walking towards Mitrax, who stumbled backwards until he was against his window.

His mother and sisters cried out for him to stop, but Mitrax’s father ignored them, stomping towards Mitrax. I need to leave. But where? To whom? I have no one. I have nowhere to go… I just need to leave. 

In a brief moment of panic, Mitrax slammed his fist into the window, and gritted his teeth as the shards of glass cut his hand, and he jumped.

Mitrax slammed another guard with that beam of light. He’d never felt more powerful. The fire continued to burn out in the distance, but still Mitrax stood there, laughing as he released more magic towards the guards that dared come close. Artuck and the others were holding their own, Christol fighting very inefficiently, and Flim hiding in the shadows. Artuck and Cruu seemed to cut down the enemy like butter, and before they knew it, many of them were dead. Mitrax watched as the blood of the slain began to run into the waters of the harbor, and Mitrax reminisced once more.

Mitrax ran with all he could muster. Every fiber of his being screamed in pain, and his mind flooded with thoughts of ‘Hide!’ Ignoring those feelings, Mitrax pushed on. He knew his father wasn’t too far behind him. The sea air flew past him as he took in deep and desperate breaths of air as he ran.

The pier was usually bustling with dragonborns, selling goods, buying the freshest catch, and everything in between. It was the city’s main trade networking pier, and this meant that many boats would be sitting out for the night. Perfect. As long as I find my way onto one of those, I’ll be okay. 

As his feet met the damp wood of the peer, Mitrax looked around frantically for a boat to hide in. C’mon. Any boat’ll do. A large cargo ship? No, it’d be too hard to get onto, and chances are someones’ guarding the goods aboard. A fishing vessel? Eh, perhaps, but he could get caught easily on the tarps and nets. A small boat will do the trick. No workers, no tarps. Man, I hope dad’s a bad swimmer. Not like I had any real practice, either though. 

Mitrax soon spotted a small rowboat nearby, no one in sight, and no tarp aboard. Perfect. Mitrax jumped on, and attempted to undo the knot. Giving up as quickly as he started, or perhaps in a moment of adrenaline, he breathed fire on the rope, and as it snapped, he began to row away.

“Just a few long hours at sea… Just a few hours for him to calm down, and I’ll come back.” Mitrax began to row, and though he knew his form was sloppy, the boat was moving, so at least his idea was working.

As he rowed, he was now about one hundred feet away from the small dock, Mitrax saw his father standing on the edge of the dock. He seemed to be yelling at him, but Mitrax ignored him. But as quickly as he ignored him, Mitrax found out why his father was calling out to him.

The rope he burned was still on fire, and was quickly engulfing the small boat he was sitting in! 

“Damn it all!” Mitrax cupped water in his hands and began throwing it on the fire, but it only spread quicker. Soon, the fire had spread to his clothes, and his already burning arms were now literally burning, and MItrax stood up in the boat, to which it immediately capsized, sending Mitrax into the cold waters waiting below.

“Don’t go out at night, sweetie. And especially don’t go into the waters. You’ll find them to be very unforgiving.” His mother’s soft, kind words were ingrained into his head starting from when he was but a hatchling. But he remembered the cold water vividly. Freezing, to his very core, the water was less welcoming than he had expected, even with his low expectations. As the waters enveloped him, he could see bubbles rising as he sank. He tried to call out for help, scream, but was answered with nothing. Not even with the sounds of silence. He flailed as he attempted to get himself to the surface, but he only continued to sink lower and lower, his arms and legs growing heavy, his muscles aching and burning at the lack of air.

But even as he sank, Mitrax looked up at the surface above him. Shimmering in the moonlight, shining with the brilliance of a thousand diamonds, it still caught his eye. In its own way, it’s… beautiful. He began to hallucinate the warmth of his home. The smiles of his family, the comfort of his mother’s arms, the light from the fire. I just want to touch it. Feel it one last time. The light from the fire was a stark contrast from the shimmering surface of the waters, Mitrax found himself reaching out, to touch it. To feel it. But even as his hands met the flames, he was met with nothing but the cold reality of the waters that surrounded him.

I guess this is it, huh. This is where I die. I… can’t believe it. This is how I go out…? No honor, no respect? I was really hoping it’d be something like old age, after I’d gained the respect of my own father. Hell, something even a little more extravagant would’ve been nice. I never even got to have my first drink with my family. Never got to see my baby sisters grow up… I… I’ll never get married… never have a family of my own either.

Mitrax felt his limbs giving up, and he took a forced breath. Water rushed into him, and he could feel the coldness filling his lungs, the salt making it burn all the way down. Mitrax felt himself close his eyes, and found himself wishing he was in bed, sleeping soundly, peacefully. As the world turned gray, Mitrax began wishing to some higher power, if one existed, for a chance to redo his choices, to turn back the clock. And as the gray turned to black, he found himself making one last thought. I… I just wanted to make them… happy.

As Mitrax’s vision went dark, he felt a warm hand sizzling in the water, and rested itself upon Mitrax’s back. He could feel his life returning to him, and a voice echoed through the water a moment later.

“How about a deal, my dear friend?”