The Dragon Knight

A black dragon with blue markings flew through the air. Beneath him, a city burned. Why? Because the great dragon was bored. But this was no mere dragon. This was Acnologia, Black Dragon of the Apocalypse. He smiled darkly at the scene, listening to the screams below. But before he could fly back to his home, he heard wingbeats. Turning, he saw a great black and red dragon flying towards him.

"ACNOLOGIA!" He roared. Acnologia chuckled at the bigger dragon's rage.

"Why, if it isn't the Dragon King himself. What do you want, Tyranus?" He asked. Tyranus, King of all dragons, growled at the abomination before him.

"Ah, Acnologia." He said, shaking his head. "You were the best of the Slayers. You could have created a lasting peace between humans and dragons. But you have fallen from grace and betrayed the sacred trust that we, that I, put in you, so now you will pay for all of the innocent lives you have taken!" He roared loudly, causing a huge gust of wind to knock the black dragon back a bit. He returned with his own roar, and they charged, slamming into each other, creating gale force winds that blew out the fires of the burning town. They went back and forth, trading blows strong enough to destroy mountains. Acnologia knocked the Dragon King back, then used his breath attack. A beam of blue-white energy blasted into Tyranus, but he shrugged off the monstrous attack easily. He charged forward with blinding speed, tackling the smaller dragon and sinking his teeth into the other's neck. Below the two titans, a small boy was looking up in awe and hatred. They had done this! They had taken away his family and friends! As he watched, the smaller of the two reared back his head and inhaled. The red and black dragon roared in pain as what looked like a ghost version of itself was pulled out of its body and into the other dragon's mouth. The red and black dragon fell, crushing the forest below it as it drew labored breaths.

"How do you know that magic?" The Dragon King asked, gasping for breath. The black dragon landed in front of its fallen enemy. It reared its head back and laughed.

"That is not your concern." He breathed deeply, savoring this moment. "Ah, how the mighty have fallen! There was a time when you could have beaten me, but now that I have Reaped your very soul, I could crush you as easily as I did this village." Acnologia leaned in close to the bigger dragon. "But I won't. Instead, I will let you linger on these last few years you have left, wallowing in despair with the knowledge that your best was not good enough." With that, he clawed the larger dragon's chest, drawing rivers of blood from its body. It then turned and flew off, rapidly becoming a speck, then disappearing. The dragon groaned in pain, the sound causing slight vibrations to travel through the ground. He laid his head down in defeat.

'So this is how it ends?' He thought. 'I tried to fix my mistake, only to make him more powerful. Perhaps I was wrong all those years ago. Maybe we shouldn't have created the Dragon Slayers.' Before he could finish that thought, he felt something on his face. Opening his eyes, He saw a young boy punching his snout with all his strength, tears streaming down his face. The Dragon King lifted his head, causing the boy to fall back and scramble away from him.

"Why are you hitting me, boy?" He asked. The boy stood back up, a determined fire shining in his eyes.

"You took my family from me! Now I'm going to pay you back!" He yelled. Tyranus immediately lowered his head in shame.

"I'm sorry." He said softly. "I tried to stop him, but I was too weak. I made him to be a bringer of peace, but he has become a monster." Tyranus quickly shifted his focus, hope shining in his glowing green eyes. "I may not be able to fix my mistake, but you can." The boy stepped back, confused.

"W-what do you mean?" He asked. The dragon nodded his head.

"Do you wish to avenge your village?" He asked. The boy nodded immediately, rage consuming his face. The dragon smiled. "Then step forward and tell me your name."

"My name is Draven Reinaut." He stated, his head held high. The dragon nodded.

"Well met, Draven. I am Tyranus, the King of all Dragons." He lifted his head high, expanding his wings. Draven's jaw dropped as he stared in awe of the majestic beast in front of him. "Now, I will not be training you to be a Dragon Slayer. I already made that mistake once. No, this time I will make you something else. Something able to stand against Acnologia, the Slayer-turned-Dragon." He grinned as he finally came up with the solution. He gestured to the small pool of blood that had formed before his wound had clotted. "Drink this, and I will train you, not to be a Dragon Slayer, but to be a Dragon Knight!" Draven hesitated.

"Y-you want me to drink… that?" He asked in disgust and confusion. The titanic dragon nodded.

"'There is power in blood'. An accurate quote that many wizards would agree with. This is even truer with the blood of a dragon, and I am the strongest among them." Tyranus said. Draven gulped almost audibly. For all his talk about avenging his family, he was still just a boy, and he was scared. Scared and alone. He shakily stepped forward, soon reaching the small pool of crimson-and-black blood. He knelt down and scooped up a handful, his hands shaking from nerves and fear.

"Do not worry, boy. Do this, and I will grant you the strength, not only to avenge your village, but to make sure that such a horror is not repeated again." Tyranus comforted the boy, giving him the courage to lift his clasped hands to his mouth and drink. Immediately, Draven fell to his side, clutching at his stomach as wave after wave of pain crashed through his body. Try as he might, he couldn't stop the blood chilling screams that clawed their way out of his throat, echoing in the night. He could feel his blood burning like a hot flame within him, and within his left eye as it slowly changed into a serpentine orange eye with a slitted pupil. Throughout all of this, Tyranus sat emotionlessly, patiently waiting, hoping that his new creation wouldn't fail like his previous error with the Dragon Slayers. Finally, the pain subsided, and the boy could breathe easily again.

"Well done, hatchling." Tyranus said. "The process worked better than I had hoped. I can practically feel your strength, the strength of a Dragon." He raised his head as Draven slowly stood, the boy locking gazes with his new king. "Be proud, for you stand now, not as man, but as Dragon Knight."

Seven Years Later:

Draven woke as sunlight fell across his face. He opened his mix-matched blue and orange eyes, squinting in the dawn's light. He stood from his pallet and stretched, running his hand through his spiked dirty-blonde hair. He looked around at his tent and campfire, the ashes cold from the morning dew. He turned his attention to the giant slumbering dragon several yards away. He sighed. It had been seven years since that fateful day, when he had met his king and sworn justice upon Acnologia for his crimes, against his village and against the Dragonkin. He had been put through hellish training ever since, the tyrant who definitely lived up to his name, Tyranus, pushing him beyond his ridiculous dragon-blood-enhanced limits. He began to go through his morning ritual, starting with five hundred push-ups, sit-ups, and squats. He then ran up and down the mountain they lived next to, finishing with a ridiculously fast sprint. By the time he had finished, Tyranus was slowly stirring from his deep slumber. The Dragon King lifted his head, releasing a yawn that made the trees bend, as if in a strong breeze. He slowly focused his eyes on the young man in front of him.

"Good morning, hatchling." He watched as Draven sat down, drinking from his canteen. "It seems you have already started your daily training, good." He stood up stiffly, the cracks of his joints sounding like falling boulders. Draven had had his suspicions for a while, but he had come to the realization of one thing: Tyranus was aging. Throughout the years he had known him, he had gone from a decently energetic, yet wise dragon, to the weak one he saw now. He knew that Dragons didn't age that fast, but he had no idea what was causing it.

"Draven." Tyranus' call brought the young Knight from his stupor, as he stood, facing the majestic king. "I believe you are getting closer to being ready to face Acnologia, but you can learn nothing more from me." He said, watching his apprentice and friend's reaction. The boy stepped forward, shocked.

"What do you mean?" He asked. "Did I do something wrong?" Tyranus laughed, the sound reverberating through the valley.

"Of course not! If anything, you learned faster than I expected." The dragon shook his head. "No, I mean that you need to see the world, gather your own experiences, maybe even join one of those wizard Guilds." He paused. "In fact, I believe you should join one. That way you can have more friends than just an old lizard." The dragon laughed. Draven stepped forward again.

"But what about you?" He asked. The Dragon King tilted his head in confusion.

"What about me?" He asked. "I am not so old that I need to be looked after. Go! Enjoy your life, tomorrow. Today, we celebrate the end of your training!" Tyranus flapped his wings in eagerness. Draven sighed, a small smile adorning his face. He knew that it was useless to argue with him when he got like this. So they spent most of the day relaxing, hunting, and all around having a good time.

In the evening, as they finished their dinner, Tyranus cleared his throat, getting Draven's attention.

"Now, in celebration of your completion of your training, I have a gift for you." He said as his tail came from behind him, dropping a bundle in front of the young man with a clank. Opening it, he found a suit of armor. It was a mixture of soft green leather, hardened brown leather, silver scale mail, and silver plate armor, with a dragon in flight layered in metal on the breastplate. (To see it, look at the cover art)Draven looked up at the dragon in astonishment.

"For me?" He asked quietly.

"Of course!" Tyranus responded. "What kind of knight doesn't have armor?" He asked. After Draven changed into his new outfit, Tyranus rose to his full height, dwarfing the trees around him.

"Now, tonight, I want you to reaffirm the oath you took when you set out on this path." He said. Draven paused.

"Why?" He asked. "Haven't I already made the oath?" Tyranus gazed into Draven's eyes. The man saw a deep sadness in them.

"Please, Draven." The Dragon King asked. "For me." The warrior nodded, kneeling down on one knee, his head bowed.

"I, Draven Reinaut, by my honor as a warrior, do swear to uphold the tenants and ideals of the Dragon Knight. To show swift judgement, wisdom, honor, and commitment to the protection of both human and dragon kind. If I fail in this task, may my retribution be swift, and my death certain. This I swear on my blood. The blood of a human. The blood of a dragon. And may its power bind me to my oath." Draven readied a small dagger to cut his hand to seal the oath, but Tyranus stopped him with a raised claw.

"Use this instead, and keep it with you throughout your journeys." He brought out a black bladed longsword, with a wide cross-guard and a green two-handed grip. Draven held the blade, marveling at the simple beauty of it. After a few seconds, he pressed the tip into his palm, completing the Binding of the oath. The blood glowed blue for a second, acknowledging the oath. Tyranus took the blade back with his tail, placing the flat o it on Draven's left shoulder, then his right.

"From this moment forth, I name thee Sir Draven, First and Last Dragon Knight!"

'I'm sorry, hatchling.' The dragon thought. 'I wish we had more time.' He returned the sword to Draven, who sheathed it on his back, the hilt poking over his right shoulder. The dragon yawned.

"I believe it is time to get some rest." You'll need it for tomorrow." Tyranus said, laying down and closing his eyes. "Goodnight, hatchling." 'And thank you.'He finished in his mind. Draven nodded and headed to his own sleep roll. In minutes, they were both asleep.

When Draven woke up, he knew something was wrong. He felt it in the air. Something was missing. He spent several minutes looking through his few belongings, but everything was in place.

'Maybe Tyranus will know what's wrong.' Draven froze, realizing what was missing. He turned to where his king slept, except there was something wrong. The old dragon wasn't breathing. Draven dashed to where his king and friend lay.

"Tyranus!? Tyranus!" He yelled, shaking the dragon's head. "Come on!" He cried, refusing to believe what was happening. "Wake up you stupid gecko! This isn't funny!" The tears freely ran down his face as his shaking stopped. "No.." He muttered, falling to his knees. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, sniffling. He buried his face in his hands and cried over his fallen friend. When all of his tears had been shed, he began making a grave for him. He dug with his bare hands, raking great mounds of dirt out with each swipe. Eventually, it was deep enough, so he walked over to the Dragon King's corpse. He then gathered his magic, and activated his magic. There was an explosion of light as a pillar of magic rose from where he was standing. When it dissipated, there stood Draven, as a western dragon. He had crimson scales covering his back, sides, neck, and the outside of his legs. His chest, stomach, and the insides of his neck and legs were covered in black scales. He had one small black spike on his nose, and four black horns coming out of the base of his skull and above the ridges above his glowing orange eyes. He had a row of black spines growing all along his back, ending at his long spiked tail. His wings were black and leathery.

As he stood over his king, he bowed his head once. He then gently picked up the corpse, carrying it to the grave and laying it down inside. He then covered it. Once that was done, he found a giant boulder and placed it as a tombstone. He carved deeply into it. It read:

Here Lies Tyranus

King Of All Dragons

A Great King, Master, And Friend

Draven stood there for a few minutes in silence. Afterwards, he raised his head, giving his king a dragon's goodbye. The roar was deep, echoing around the valley and scaring away anything living. Miles away, a pink haired boy paused in his fighting. He didn't know why, but he knew that now was the time for silence and mourning.