William's perspective

I stared in awe as gusts of wind blew past me and my father. The dragon that flew to us was bigger than our house. I can almost feel its might just by standing near it.

Its bright snow-white scales reflected the sunlight. It opens its massive, beak-like mouth, letting loose a triumphant roar. I could even hear its jaws slamming shut, like a dog chomping down on whatever it could.

It gazed down at me and my father with its blue-azure eyes. Three horns protruded from its head, one going straight back, following the spine, while the other two curved back on the sides, following the lining of the mouth. 

I stare at its remaining body, wings spread out for all to see, as it stands on its hind legs. Each wing has to be about twenty feet long. One flap could send a child rolling for the hills. Its four limbs bared menacing claws that could cut down trees. Its long tail appears to have a block of icicles shaped like a trident, sharpened to the tip, ready to slice whoever was foolish enough to cross the dragon's path.

On the dragon's neck was a harness strapped to a saddle. The saddle was huge, designed for a person to not only sit on and ride but also stand up without the concern of falling.

However, a white knight sits on the saddle, making me assume they are the dragon's rider.

The knight donned shiny white armor, appearing as magnificent as the dragon they rode. This dazzling ensemble encased him from chest to feet, a spectacle of white metal bound by ornate clasps of gold that snaked around his form. Each piece of armor gleamed with purpose and intent. Streaks of vibrant red traced the contours of his armor, emboldening the edges of his shoulder guards, forearms, and leg plate, bleeding down to his armored greaves. An intricately designed armored skirt fanned out from his waist, safeguarding the joints that the rigid plates above could not, ensuring seamless protection.

Underneath that armor was a fabric of silk or leather, white like their armor but skin tight, designed in a scale-like pattern. I could see no ounce of what I considered everyday clothing—no wrinkles, no nothing.

But I didn't care. I knew who they were. Especially when he wasn't wearing a helmet.

Without waiting another second, I shouted, "Barren," as I ran past my father to the dragon.

The dragon lowered its neck so Barren could hop off. As he climbed off, I saw Barren's blonde hair combed back neatly like usual, and I saw he had been trimming his beard. It looks far more elegant than the last time I saw him, two years ago.

That made me more excited that he took my advice. I can't believe he listened.

His dark blue eyes matched his facial hair, accentuating a scar on his cheek. The scar didn't do anything good for his looks in my mind, but I can easily believe all the noble women would be so captivated by him. His face was rugged, but you could still see his nobility behind it all.

I watch him caress his dragon's neck, sliding his hand to its snout as he approaches me.

The dragon groans, managing to move its beak-like mouth somehow, almost like it is speaking in a foreign tongue.

"William!" Barren said to me, baring his perfect teeth in a big smile.

I always hate his perfect teeth. "How's it been, you squirt?"

I charged at him as I swung my arm at him. "A lot stronger and faster than before!" Barren laughed as he sidestepped out of the way from me.

I gritted my teeth and smiled as I kept swinging at him. Each punch I threw was broad and heavy, which Barren took full advantage of as he kept dodging.

"Stand Still!"

Barren and I always "sparred," or that's what he calls it. We always horsed around ever since I wanted to be just like him, a Dragon Knight.

Chuckling loudly, Barren spoke, "Last time you punched me, you knocked the wind out of me." Spinning around me, evading my last wide punch, he pushes his back against me. I felt the cold metal plating of his armor against my back as I fell over. "And I was wearing armor too!"

The next thing I knew, Barren shoved me to the ground as he chuckled. I laughed as I heard my father approaching, snickering in amusement. I sat back up, resting on my knees as I tried to recover from exhaustion.

The running, jumping, and carriage pulling I did must have made my body far more fatigued than I realized.

I was so excited to see Barren and his dragon that I forgot all about it. 

Finally, I looked up and saw his dragon in front of me. It moved its lips in as I made a groaning sound as if it were speaking to me.

"I miss you too, Lady Elrid." I watch her stand tall on both legs, looking proud and dignified as she speaks again.

Seeing Elrid again brought me a sense of joy. I would always play with her when I was growing up.

Or, to be more specific, I would talk to her and assume what she would say. Then, there were times I climbed up her tail, and she would swing me around.

Once, I even got onto her saddle and pretended to ride her through the clouds. She, however, only walked around. From what I understand, dragons are prideful and would only ride with one person. I was an exception to Elrid, or that's what I tell myself.

"She says she's glad to see you have grown stronger." Barren spoke for her as he and my father approached each other.

I knew well that dragons understand what we say, but only their rider can understand what their dragon is saying.

"It's been a while, Gwyn, my old friend."

"It has been, Sir Barren," my father replied as he approached Barren, extending his arm to him as Barren reciprocated, latching their hands onto each other's forearms. My father gave him a bright smile.

I couldn't hear much of what they were saying, and I didn't care. Lady Elrid has lowered her snout, allowing me to scratch her. I felt her smooth, white scales press against my hands as I rubbed and scratched her snout.

From what I was told, Barren helped my father when he first arrived in Hearthglen with me. In return, my father helped the town with its monster problems, since most adventurers don't come to this city.

I don't remember anything back then. Father said I was only two when we came to Hearthglen, right after my mother passed. Thinking about her made me mad.

Mad at the Blight, specifically. It was my reason why I wanted to be just like Barren.

I managed to overhear my father telling Barren about my little chase, which made him laugh. "To think you were close to catching a heraraptor with your bear hands." Barren approached me and patted my shoulder. "You make a fine Dragon Knight if you can reach that level as a Rider."

"You mean it?" My eyes widen in excitement. My goal was to become a dragon rider, especially a Dragon Knight. Maybe even a Titan Rider.

"Of course," Barren responded sincerely. Now let me help you and your old man with your carriage. I don't want you to hurt your back, old man." I muffled a giggle, watching Barren as he walked back to Lady Elrid, hopped onto her neck, and mounted the saddle.

Father scoffed at him, making a big smirk. "Old man? I'm only 38."

"Not with those wrinkles." Barren chuckled as Lady Elrid stood back up. Barren rode her as she approached the carriage, grabbing it with her front arms and taking off as gusts of wind from her wings almost swept me off my feet.

I looked back up to see Barren and Lady Elrid carrying the carriage full of all the game my father and I had gathered from our hunt. Getting back up, I watched them fly to the city. Almost bursting with excitement, I gave a big smile, almost like a child about to scream after getting a puppy.

"You hear that, Father!" I yell out as I jump over to my father, almost jumping out of my shoes. "He said I'd make a fine dragon knight!"

Father puts me in a headlock as he starts to dig his knuckles into my head, making me squirm and wiggle as pain jolts throughout my scapel. "You will be a fine rider if you can pass my training," my father retorts as he continues to keep me in a headlock, delivering his painful treatment to my head as I manage to wiggle out. "And don't forget that Sir Barren may be Knight Commander of the Riders; he isn't a Matriarch. Only they can ensure one can be a rider."

"I know, I know," I replied, knowing what my father says is true.

But still, the Knight Commander himself told me I would be a fine knight. That's enough to tell me that I'm making good progress. It has to be.

"But don't you think it would be time, though? If Lord Knight Commander Barren says I'll be fine, then surely that means I'm good enough."

"No, you're not ready yet," my father retorted immediately. My mouth was agape in shock and disbelief as I watched him follow the path to the city, brushing my opinion off. "You haven't completed our deal yet."

"Come On! That's not fair!" I yelled at him. "I've done everything you asked. I've done your weird training! I've pushed your carriage around for years! I've done your hunting trips! What more do you want me to do besides catch your damn lizard?"

My father turned around and approached me. His steps were fast, heavy, and intimidating. But I stood my ground. I wasn't afraid. I wasn't. I've done so much to prove to him that I'm ready—everything he asked for, even the bizarre magic training he made me do.

As he got closer and closer, I felt my confidence fade, my heart pounding as I tripped over my feet, stumbling back as I landed on the ground.

I tried to recover, but my father grabbed my arm and yanked me off the ground.

"This is why. You're reckless and impatient, quick to outburst, and for many other obvious reasons." I yanked my arm out of his hands, annoyed and angry at his words.

I yelled to the sky, walking off to the city as I kicked a mound of dirt clear off the ground. 

We have a job to do. We still have to turn in the animal bodies to the guild. Just because Knight Commander Barren took it from us doesn't mean we are done.

20 minutes later

 

I looked up at the mountain, walking towards the Northern Gate of the city, which lies south of the Zarmen Forest. The same forest where my father and I go hunting. 

The Zarmen Forest is next to the farmlands that help the city and country thrive for food. It's not the only place where Drakelene gets its food, but it is the only place I knew.

Staring at the gatehouse, which consisted of two massive, sturdy brick hexagon-like towers connected through an archway-looking gate. The towers are linked to the walls that encircle the entire city, extending to the mountain. The armed guards stand ready with swords and rifles on each tower and walkway above the gate. Some parts of the old brick walls were covered in moss. Windows line the building, and the roof of each window is covered in shingles, most likely intended for protection from aerial attacks.

The gate itself is open, but I can see the sharp metal points of the gate protruding from the brick-arching walkway between the two towers.

I approached the gate, passing it as my father tailed me from behind. He smacks the back of my head.