One Good deed

Arcturus held firm onto the wooden training sword he carried within his hands. The strong, athletic human boy of twelve stood tall, with a grin present on his fair face. Confidence sparkled in his bright green eyes. The golden rays of the sun above bathed his dark-green-shirt-clad chest in its warmth, as well as the rest of his form.

Arcturus stood opposite to two other children of roughly the same age and build as himself. One had long flowing blonde hair and bright icy blue eyes, while the other had olive skin with eyes of amber, and hair of mahogany. They too held training swords at the ready as they circled one another, their eyes looking for the first error to capitalize on. Arcturus already knew trouble was coming. He bravely stepped towards them, for he was trained by the best dragon hunter of them all. He was the son of Markis Lund.

His sword clashed with another as the enemy rose to block the upcoming strike. The rules were simple. Arcturus thought as such as he parried a child's swing, then back stepping and avoiding the other child that came at him. You get three strikes onto you and, you are done. It did not matter where they were, nor how hard the blow hit. The only thing that mattered was the number. Three hits. That's all it took for one of the boys to step outside the dueling area.

Arcturus grinned as the first child took a swing, and he stepped under him, letting two hard thwacks of his wooden sword be the boy's reward. Right after his assault, Arcturus nimbly backed away with a laugh of victory. For you see, he had already bested this boy numerous times. That is why he currently had a partner, even if that partner was not doing him much good.

“Hey, watch it!" The blonde-haired boy yelled out, bumping into his useless partner.

“Watch yourself!" The boy sneered back, “He's fast."

Arcturus backed away, keeping his breath in check and his excitement from getting too high. He had not yet won, something his father had always warned him to be mindful of. Keep your eyes up and expect the unexpected.

“Arcturus!" Came the shout of a bearded man bearing the same eyes as him. They glared at him inquisitively, as they traced his body up and down. “Keep your form up and don't get cocky! Focus, remember? The concentration has to be as sure as your feet." The man thrust a finger at him. “Now, to add a slight twist to this challenge. If you fail to answer my questions correctly, I will count it as a hit against you! What say you?"

“Try your best, father!" Arcturus shouted as the two children advanced on him with grins of mischief. Clearly they were thinking they could get the best of him with this little change in plans. With a shrug, Arcturus met their attacks. He would just have to show them how wrong they were the hard way.

“Name the weak spots of a dragon!"

“That one's too easy!" Arcturus grunted as he shoved the olive-skinned boy back, only to strike the blonde haired one square in the chest during this moment of distraction. “Those are the eyes, the wings, the underside of the paws, the joints....and...Their genitals!" Arcturus flustered at that one, backing away from the other snickering children. “What? They have weaker scales there." Arcturus stuck his tongue out. “You would know if you read the books."

“Read books about their...regions?" The blonde-haired boy snickered, almost dropping his sword. “What sort of weirdo are you?"

“Right answer m'boy!" The man shouted. “He's right you know. Perceptive. More than I can say about the rest of you," he gestured towards the children, who no longer snickered once a respected Lund stared them down with the stern gaze of a hunter. “Good job, Arcturus." He turned his eyes upon his boy. “Good job. Now tell me, what kind of breath is typical for a brass dragon?" His father shouted out as Arcturus smacked the olive-skinned child, taking him out of the contest.

“Take that!" He cheered as the blonde-haired boy swung and struck him on the side. “Grahhh." Arcturus stumbled backwards as the other boy grinned at him.

“I'm waiting boy! Or do you want two strikes against you?" Came the demanding voice of his father. Clearly he did not care that he had just been struck so hard in the chest that even breathing came a little hard for him.

“F-fire!" Arcturus coughed, his eyes narrowing at the blonde child. If he was going to be swinging hard, he would not have to hold back now. “You asked for it now, blondie." Arcturus mumbled as he recomposed himself, holding his sword aloft to point the wooden tip at his annoying enemy.

“Good job! Keep it up Arcturus. Don't fall prey to distraction. Pain is your greatest enemy out there in the field. I've known slayers able to withstand wounds so horrifying they'd put a normal man on his ass. Now tell me, where do green dragons like to nest?"

“Forests, swamps, marshes!" Arcturus shouted, charging at the blonde-haired boy, blocking the child's strike, and then twisting his blade so that it struck the boy once on the underside of his leg. It hit just the right spot to make the boy fall backwards onto the dirt. Arcturus did not let up for an instant, as he easily avoided the boy's retaliation, and then struck him in his sword arm.

“And what do these dragons typically like to hoard?"

“Mortals!" Arcturus swung his sword hard enough that it sent the other boy's sword flying from his grasp to clatter on the dusty ground of the arena. Arcturus finished him off with a solid strike to the torso.

“Gah!" The boy exclaimed, falling back to clench at his chest. “That stings. you dolt!"

“Next time you'll know better than to swing with your entire might in a training match." Arcturus snapped as the boy rose up to glare at him with hateful eyes. Arcturus simply returned the stare as the clearly embarrassed boy walked out of the white fenced area. He headed back to a collection of pockmarked people in multicolored clothing, head down, like a defeated dog with its tail between the legs.

“Great answers, great fighting, great spirit! That was a splendid display of keen ability, m'boy!" His father cheered. The man quickly stepped into the ring, arms stretched wide. “You did your family proud, son."

Markis then turned towards the large collection of people “See there, Jenkins? Takes right after his old man!" His father placed a rough hand to his hair and ruffled it with a chuckle. “You're going to be the best dragon slayer this world will ever know. Just make sure you don't get lazy like the dragons you've learned about, eh? If they spent half as much time hunting us, well, we'd not be here today talking about a dragon's legendary laziness, would we now?"

“But not all of them sit in their nest." Arcturus peeped in.

“They do, boy. They do," Markis patted his son on the back. “There's a couple active ones who can't stay idle, but after you take your first one, you'll start to learn that dragons are just as capable of dying as we are. They just have a hard time learning that, so it is up to us to teach 'em a pair of wings and a few scales do not make them better than us."

Arcturus cringed. The thought of a life spent hunting the great winged beasts that roamed the country of Sethera did not fill him with the excitement one would expect. It was a darker feeling. Something that made his blood run cold every time his father ever mentioned it, especially when he looked so proud and happy with his boy's combat efficiency. Arcturus did not want to be a dragon slayer like the rest of his family, and he certainly did not want to spend his life hunting the creatures simply because he was told to. It was something his mother would have objected about, if she were still around, after all.

“Uh…Sure dad." He replied sheepishly at the man before him. Markis continued to grin.

“You know what? You did remarkably well in besting those two kids." Markis thumbed behind him. “I think I owe you a treat after that exquisite show of Lund swordsmanship."

A treat?

Arcturus' thoughts twisted to what ever his father could mean. Did he bring chocolate? Perhaps my favorite paints? Is it a new horse? Possibly my own set of armor?

“What do you mean, father?" Arcturus decided to seek a simpler answer to his dilemmas.

“Come here and I shall show you." The man grinned as he wrapped his strong arm around his son's shoulders.

“Come on, father. Don't keep me guessing. You look practically ready to burst with excitement as well!" Arcturus laughed as they strolled through the rows upon rows of brightly colored tents. The air was filled with the scents of hundreds of people massed together, mixed with sweat and the smell of cooking meats.

“Tis better if I showed you. Words cannot do justice to what I've prepared for you." His father held up a finger and pointed it skyward. “Trust me, Arcturus, you will be glad I did not spill the beans on this surprise." Markis chuckled. They passed a band of singing gryphons, who, by the sound of their slurred speech, had already gotten piss-ass drunk despite the sun being straight overhead.

Arcturus rolled his eyes at the three stumbling birds that nearly collapsed as the two Lunds, father and son, strolled on by. His eyes traced along the field, to a large green banner that was fluttering in the wind. One that had a golden lion holding a shield and sword. Arcturus knew this flag well, for it was the symbol of the Lunds, the greatest dragon hunters in all of Lumara. According to his father, of course.

The flag that bore his family crest was gathered with a collection of others. They were all different colors and symbols, each one belonging to a different family that came to this place to compete. Each one an opponent for Arcturus to best. For you see, this large collection of tents, this gathering of peoples from all over his nation was all about one thing to his family. It was a celebration of each family's strength, a chance for each bloodline to show off their latest offspring. There were humans, elves, dwarves, minotaurs. Heck. Arcturus thought he had even seen a gryphon bragging about his skills. It did not matter who you were, where you came from, when one single thing bound all these people together.

Each one of them was a dragon hunter.

Arcturus set his eyes on another collection of massed people that parted before his father's stern eyes like water. He thought he spotted his cousin Horace, a portly man who was a simple farmer, a man who had never harmed a dragon in all of his life. He was just one of the many that came to spectate these sorts of things, for it was not just for the dragon hunters themselves. It was something for all their clans to enjoy over song, drink, and cheers of happiness.

“This walk is starting to bore me. Tell me, where are you taking me, father?" He asked as it became apparent his father was leading him away from all the noise, the people, the drink, and the drunk gryphon that had just smacked a lady's ass, only to get a swift kick to the groin. Arcturus had stifled a laugh as the creature rolled around to the squawking laughter of his feathered friends.

“Be patient. What I prepared requires us to get away from all this commotion." His father waved around to the collected masses. “They did not want to disturb the gathering just yet." His father pointed to a larger tent apart from the rest. It was a dark brown thing, completely enclosed from all sides. It had one entrance, which was bound up tighter than a vice. “That is where we are headed."

Arcturus stared at the tent in wonder. As they strode across the brightly lit field of green, his heart started to beat faster with every careful stride. His thoughts danced around in his head at what could be kept waiting in that tent. He knew there would be challenges during the week for them to overcome. Each contestant would get to best a beast specifically collected and prepared for this moment. The moment that would test their skills to the limit. Although… what kind of beast would they hold out here, away from all the noise and the people? Would they not want to build anticipation? Get the crowd riled up for the games ahead? It seemed like something Arcturus would do, if he were in charge of these games.

“Wha-"

His father silenced his mouth with a palm. The strong man guided his son around the tent. “Shhh..." He held a finger to his mouth as their path carried them to the other side of the tent. His father gestured out with a wide sweep of his hand and said nothing, letting the sight before him speak for itself.

Arcturus felt his mouth drop at what his father had gestured to. Bound before them on a large wooden carts were the imposing bodies of dragons. They were bound with heavy brown leathers that seemed to be soaked in some sort of liquid, most likely a flame retardant. Their wings were bound tight against their mighty scaled bodies, and their limbs were shackled in irons. One was scaled in bright golden armor, with underscales of a soft brown. His wings were feathered and bore the color of fresh snow. The black horned male gazed out to the human with his emerald eyes. However, it was not this dragon that drew the boy's gaze, but the other female that robbed his interest.

Her scales were a bright bronze that sparkled in the sun. Atop her back was a frill that extended down from her horned head, all the way to her tail. The base of the membrane was a dark navy, slowly fading until it turned into a light turquoise near the edges. She had talons and horns to match the color of charcoal black, and eyes like molten amber. Their carts were sitting still for the moment, each one of the carts still latched onto a team of large bay horses.

“D-Dragons?" Arcturus quickly snapped his attention away from the things he had only read about, and back to his father, who looked down to him with a stern face.

“Yes...Dragons. They were going to be used for the end of the tournament, but I figured we can extend their purpose to some other things, like an early preview for my worthy son." His father looked back to the bound creatures with a slight grin. “We helped bring in these vile creatures that were plaguing the countryside. It took some effort to overpower and subdue the beasts, but each one, as you can see, fell before our combined might."

“What did they do?" Arcturus asked, looking to the female that had locked her eyes onto him. They did not seem like the eyes that belonged to a monster. In fact, if Arcturus had to point to what they indeed looked like, he would describe them as rather kind, anxious, and full of fear. “What crimes did they commit, father?"

“Does it matter? They're here now, awaiting a most deserved end!"

He must have spoken louder than intended, for he quickly lowered the tone of his voice. “Theft of property, maiming of helpless farmers, burning of houses that still housed whole families. That bronze there has some heinous activities attached to her head, like the slaughter of hunters who wanted only to provide for their families, and the murder of some of our beloved lords. These beasts have no compassion for the other living beings they share the land with, and as such, they have to be punished. Oh yes, they all have to pay for their crimes."

Arcturus wrinkled his brow as his father continued to list crime after crime that the beasts had committed. He was unnaturally coherent, as if he had memorized the entire list. Arcturus even got bored of the humongous list of accusations. He even rolled his eyes as his father seemed to continue until he finally ran out of breath.

Arcturus focused on the beautiful dragons before him. Their strong looking scales, their smooth looking wing membranes. Arcturus twitched his hands as he wondered what one would even feel like to the touch. In fact… he had never actually touched a scale before. He laughed to himself. Here he was, son to the best dragon slayer in the land, and he had yet to touch a living dragon's scale or a wing membrane. He had only read about the mighty beasts in his books, and tested against the illusions his father had conjured with the help of spellcasters.

Arcturus wondered about the accusations. How could something so beautiful be as evil as the men said? He crossed his arms as the horses started to pull the dragons into the now opened tent, disappearing with a flapping of the fabric. He remembered the picture of the supposedly evil dragon, Radiant Flame, from his grand-father's dragonology books. The red dragon had tolled mortals and killed those who could not pay the fee to pass the bridge. After that, as a grisly sign of superiority, or perhaps a warning against the rest of the human kind, the dragon built a bridge from the very bones of the travelers that wandered too close. He always thought about how pretty her turquoise scales were, and her cerulean eyes that matched the color of the brightest sky. When he looked to them on the pages of that book, or when he went to his father's study, he found himself thinking that dragons could not all be evil. There had to be some good ones out there in the world, right? It just…had to be fair.

Arcturus let out a heavy sigh. These were questions his mother would have had. The mother that was no longer there, stolen away from the rearing of a horse, and the hard rock that connected with her neck in the most tragic accident Arcturus knew during his young life.

“Don't worry your mind about them, son." His father swung his arm around his shoulder again and started to lead Arcturus back towards the collection of people, tents, and ever-loud voices. “These wretched beasts are for the victors of this tournament. You can bet it will be your strong arm that gets the honor of delivering justice to these foul beasts. You are going to learn first-hand what it means to be the hand that delivers justice onto the world."

Arcturus felt his blood freeze once more at the thought of running a blade through a dragon's head. His hands quivered and his breath got short. In the blink of an eye, he felt sick to his stomach as he pictured their bleeding corpses, and blood dripping from his hands. He shook his head to force his mind towards something pleasant. The image of the dragonesses' bronze scales sparkling in the sunlight helped him more than he could ever admit to his father. Arcturus knew he had to sketch her. No. A mere sketch was improper for such a majestic creature. He had to paint her, and if he was able to, even speak with her.

* * * * * * * * * *

That night, Arcturus laid down on the bed of straw. It was not the most comfortable thing to be lying on, since they were away from home. It surely made him miss the oversized bed in his room, with the softest blankets he had ever known. The boy sighed at the pleasant memory as he gazed down to the book held within his hands. The soft glow of the mana lantern light was all that lit the tent serving as his room. Thankfully, he had gotten this one to himself, as his father had shared one with the gryphon nanny while they were here. He had rolled his eyes at her giggling laughter as she ruffled her earthen brown feathers, his father leading her away with a flick of her lion-like tail.

His eyes came across the picture of a bronze dragon drawn onto the pages. This one was a male. Arcturus could tell that by the way the horns were sharped. Sharper, more pronounced than the female's had been. He ran a finger along the old vellum, taking a deep breath and letting the pleasant smell linger his nostrils.

“What am I doing?" He tossed the book to the other side of his bed as he leaned back, his mind full of bronze scales. “Here I am... reading about the blasted dragon, when I could…

He shot up with a smile, practically tossing on his boots and belt as quickly as he could. He snatched a leather-bound pack and quickly stuffed some painting materials inside, including a vial of ink, some parchment, and his brushes.

“I'll just greet her...Ask her some questions maybe. Not like I'm breaking any of father's rules if I look at her from a safe distance."

Arcturus pulled a dark brown cloak around his shoulders. He smiled, pushing aside the curtain of his tent. He hesitated as he took his first few steps into the darkness. His father's cautious words rang in his mind.

“Always be able to protect yourself, my son. No matter how safe you think you are, it's always better to be cautious."

Those were words his father lived by, yet Arcturus did not think anything dangerous could happen. It wasn't like the dragon would wait for him to break free if it was able. Still, it always paid to be prepared. With a shrug of his shoulders, he quickly dashed back into the room, grabbed the dagger, and stashed it on his person before heading back towards the dragon's tent.

Arcturus looked over the sea of tents lit by the mana torches that were placed every ten feet along the rows upon rows of cloth. The only other light came from the sky, in the form of thousands of stars shining down on them from above. Arcturus wrinkled his brow. He remembered when friends had told him that the stars were all small portals to the realm of fire. He disliked this theory honestly, as it felt too mundane. Especially in a world where the impossible could be done by magic, like heal the sick. Legend said some people were able to even bring the dead back to life. Arcturus took a deep breath of the cool air, coughing on the scent of smoldering fires and horses.

Silent as a cat, the boy made his way towards the dragon. He made sure to ignore anyone walking around this hour by keeping his eyes low, and sticking close to the shadows of the night. There were typically only party-goers or drunks up at this late hour anyway. Even the tent Arcturus sought had no guard, although there was a chair planted there, supposedly to rest the absent sentry. Arcturus rolled his eyes. As ridiculous as that looked, he was nonetheless thankful the guard was out drinking, or as these celebrations often had it, passed out on the floor of some tent. The guard's absence saved Arcturus the trouble of sneaking past a sentry, and he quickly slipped under the tent's door and into the wide, open area.

The tent was practically empty, except for the metal chains and piles of hay that littered the place. There were several mana lanterns that hardly did a thing to rid the tent of the darkness. However, that did not matter to Arcturus. He paid the surrounding tent little mind as his world narrowed onto the bronze dragon that was laying down in chains upon the layers of hay. He looked around quickly, not finding a scale or a hint of the whereabouts of the other one. He shrugged, figuring they must have hidden it in another tent. He felt his heart skip a beat as he crouched low to sneak over towards one of the stacks of hay for the sole purpose of getting a better look at the bound dragon. He peaked over the hay to see that the creature had leather belts wrapped tight around her neck. Arcturus remembered from his books this would prevent dragons from blowing their breath attacks. He wracked his mind for the information that told him bronze dragons could breathe bolts of lightning from their maws, then sighed in thanks for the belts. The last thing he needed was to be dancing around lightning bolts hurled by the annoyed dragon.

From the belts he looked to her forelimbs. Those too bound ever so tightly to her hind legs, with her tail having a belt wrapped around it, forcing her to curl it towards her bound limbs. Her chest was rising and falling in time with her breaths, and her eyes were shut. She appeared to be asleep.

Arcturus felt a small pang of guilt course through him as he looked to the dragoness, all defenseless, stripped of every sense of freedom. He thought she even looked kinda helpless, bound up like that. He wanted to take a step forward and introduce himself to the beautiful creature from his books.

But he quickly found he lacked the courage to do so, his legs refusing to budge no matter how much he tried to force them forward. “Come on…" He sighed softly to himself as he pulled his pack off his back and set it on the ground. “Fine…If you won't carry me over to the dragon so I don't have to shout...I will just draw her then." He spoke to himself, pulling out a piece of parchment, a bottle of black ink, and his feather quill.

He started to trace her form quickly with the quill, first doing the head, and then working his way to the rest of the body. His eyes would peer from the paper to the fine bronze scales on her body, though from this distance it was hard to determine any detail on her frame. How he wished to be closer and inspect her fine features. It would certainly help him get his picture right. He sighed as he finished making the latest stroke when he noticed something. He looked up to see that she had risen her head and was staring at him with her amber eyes.

“What are you doing over there, scribbling in the darkness?" She spoke sternly, her voice deeper and more booming than he thought it would be. However, it was just as surprising, causing him to jump back and fall into the hay.

“Woah....umppffhh..." He landed on his back, spitting out some hay as he laid sprawled on the ground.

“Is the hay giving you trouble, little human?" Her voice came moments later. It cracked slightly from the sternness she had shown. It occurred to Arcturus she may have been putting on an act for him.

“I-I-I...I'm fine. Isn't as hard as it looks, because it's hay, same as the one you sleep on, actually." He stammered slowly, dusting himself and sitting up, then turning to face the dragoness, who -despite what his father taught him about how all dragons were evil, had a silver tongue, and would eat him at a moment's notice- had kind eyes that stared to him as if a mother would a hurt child. He lowered his head as he remembered his own mother's eyes.

“Are you so sure about that?" She chuckled, “You are not supposed to say I three times...Unless I have been speaking the common tongue wrong all these years." She licked her nose with her long, dull pink tongue. “Did my speaking surprise you, hatchling? I had no intention of sending you sprawled onto the floor."

“N-No." The boy replied, looking to his picture that now had a large streak of ink down the middle. He scrunched up the side of his face at the ruined image.

“Why are you making such a weird face? The one where you are trying to fold your hide together?"

“Like this?" He made the scrunched-up face again, pointing to it with a finger.

“That's the one."

“I...well…I kinda ruined my picture when I fell." He sighed, glancing down to the drawing again.

“Picture? Is that what you were doing? Scratching away with that feather of yours?" She snorted in amusement. “You surprise me, perhaps even more than my voice surprised you. Can I see what you produced?"

Arcturus almost approached the dragoness when she had asked that all too inviting, dangerously suspicious question.

“I would want to…only that…" He looked to her many pristine teeth, only getting flashes of them when she talked. Despite her friendly demeanor, he knew the damage she could do with those. Even with a belt restricting her movement to mere inches, he could not help shake the feeling that she could reach out and grab hold of him with those deadly white daggers.

“You think I am going to bite you." She said flatly. The dragoness let out a small rumbling chuckle from the back of her throat. “That is most wise of you, young hatchling. it would be foolish to approach one such as myself without knowing me first." She snorted, letting out gusts of warm, humid air as she pointed with a claw to the ground. “You can stand fairly close without worrying about repercussions. Just hold out that bit of parchment for me. I shall see it fine even from a distance. Does that sound fine to you, hatchling?"

“Why do you keep calling me a hatchling? I am clearly a human." He took a few tentative steps towards her, his heart starting to beat faster as excitement built within his chest. He was actually getting closer to a dragon. One that seemed eager to hurt him, maim him, or kill him. Even so, he was reminded of his father's words to stay vigilant with every beat of his heart. After all, the dragoness could be lulling him into a false security.

“Hatchling, boy, child." She rolled her eyes. “All these things describe you in the same way, human. I just used the term I am most familiar with."

“Uh...yeah. Makes sense. Here. Take a look." He held out his parchment for the dragoness when he was close enough to her. He watched her eyes look right at the drawing, and waited with baited breath for her answer with his hand trembling slightly. “What do you think? Still pretty, even with that ugly smudge in the middle? I messed it up by falling down at such a bad time..." He trailed off, his face going a slight shade of crimson.

“It's wonderful, little human!" She smiled, eyes closing as she did so. “You really captured my likeness impressively well, although I think it would look even better in color."

“I do have paints that can do that." Arcturus excitedly thumbed back towards his pack. “I do like to do that as well. Painting I mean. It's even more fun than sketching." His mind drifted to a small cave near his home, where he had painted a rather large painting of the red dragon Radiant Flame. One that his father had not known he had done. No need for the man who hated dragons with a passion to know his son fancied painting them.

“Do you now?" She gave a slight croon as he watched her scales ripple and strain slightly against the leathers. Against his better judgement, Arcturus felt himself back away suddenly.

“Oh, don't worry your little snout, human." The dragoness groaned, looking back as much as her belt allowed. “I am thoroughly restrained...graaarrr...by your uncomfortably tight belts."

“Well… they are there to make sure you don't go killing everyone. Or using your lightning breath to do what your claws can't."

“Is that what you think I would do, if given the chance? You wound me, human." She gave a slight growl.

Arcturus stepped back further as she glared at him. “I…" Arcturus faltered for a moment. “Is that not why you are here? To be judged like a criminal? Did you not steal, kill, and hurt others?"

“I did none of these things, human!" The dragoness snorted almost angrily, then licked her nose. “Your brethren took me when I was going for my morning flight. They ambushed me like a pack of vicious monsters, tied me up, and dragged me here to be made an example of."

“T-they can't…be…monsters. I mean…no. We aren't like that. We punish evil dragons," He stopped his retreat as her eyes softened.

“Do you honestly believe that? Tell me, human...Are people that attack innocent creatures...bind them up...spout lies...and then kill them in front of an angry horde that demands blood the kind, gentle creatures you speak of? How is this justice? How are they not the monsters that should rightly scare you?"

Arcturus paused as he thought over her words. “Y-yes." He said after a pregnant pause. “You are…you aren't wrong. People like that are bad. Maybe even worse than some of the dragons I heard about."

“Indeed." She snorted, her mood instantly brightening. “The world is not a fair place, but let us cease this prattle about horrible deeds and monsters. It will only sour my attitude further. You mentioned you like to paint, little hatchling?" Her voice sounded sweet, as if it were a mother talking to her own child.

“Yes...Yes I did. Creating makes me feel much better than training, though father insists I should practice for…uhm, things. Stay in shape, I mean," Arcturus put a timely stop to his words to avoid upsetting the dragoness with further talk of dragon slaying. She seemed to understand him. Able to see past the hardened warrior he would become in a few years under his father's tutelage. She saw him. The real Arcturus Lund, not the offspring of dragon slayers.

“That is good. Becoming a master requires knowledge from all fields, including some that might be considered less important. Did you bring those painting things in your leather sack?" She gave him a tooth filled smiled.

“You mean, my pack?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes, that." She rolled her eyes. “Unless you brought two of them with you."

“I did. I mean I have one pack here, not two. Why would I need two?" He realized the female was joking, and, reddening once again like a ripe tomato, Arcturus looked back to the pack, then quickly back to her. “Why so interested in my crafts? Dragons can't paint."

“We can. Just not in the same way you do. Besides, I hardly think you look like an aspiring artist," Came her voice as he slowly made his way to his pack to retrieve all the tools he needed for the job at hand. It was when he grabbed it and turned around when did he truly take in her size. She must have been at least three times his height if she were able to stand up fully without the leather bindings holding her captive. Arcturus took a few more steps towards her. His eyes traced her entire body, from the tip of her snout to the end of her tail. He figured that she was at least seven times his length from head to foot, at least. He had not realized he was staring as he continued slowly towards her, because she chuckled at him.

“Admiring my splendor, little one?" She pulled against the straps gently. “I did not think my scales would have the same effect on a human as they do on other dragons. Ah yes, our species is very good at flaunting even the most basic of things."

“B-basic?" Arcturus stammered. How could she name such dazzling beauty basic?

“You think otherwise?" The female gave what Arcturus believed to be a snort right after he nodded. “I suppose you don't gawk at each other's hides. That's why you keep them hidden under these ridiculous crafts you call…cloth, was it?"

“Clothes," Arcturus said. “You were close."

She smiled again, her tail twitching slightly within her bonds. “I find the concept of adorning your body with the hide of prey and plants ridiculous. You understand that, right?"

“I suppose."

She must have noticed something in his eyes, for her lips moved to reveal her sharp, deadly, and at the same time, beautiful fangs. “Are you attracted by the way I look, little slayer?" She laughed deep in her throat. “That would certainly be amusing, considering our situation."

“I don't fancy dragons like that." Arcturus sat before her, cross-legged. He was at least three arm lengths away from her head when he opened his pack again and pulled out his painting supplies. He looked up to see her staring at him with her piercing, beautiful eyes. “I... just find your scales...beautiful...and… and striking, like the sun setting over endless fields of gold..." He stopped as he saw her grin at him from each edge of her snout.

“If you are trying to convince me you don't fancy dragons, you are doing a very poor job, little hatchling. To my ears, it sounds like you will have a dragon lover in your future." She chuckled again in the back of her throat, making her scales clink against one another."

“Ahaha, no, no," He laughed, dismissing her with a wave. “I already have a hard time with girls my age." He pulled out some brushes and set them beside the vellum he had procured. His thoughts went to all the time spent training, the hours and hours of reading, fencing, practicing. It felt like that was all he ever did. He never got a moment to himself to do anything he cared about. In fact, this was the most alone time he had gotten in the last few weeks. Inside, alone, with a beautiful living being that was seen by his family like any other dangerous animal. Arcturus wrinkled his brow as he pulled out a few pots of paints. “Seems like all I ever do is train, train, train. Going where? Doing what? I don't want to be miserable like my father. He hides it well, but I know he's not happy, and he pushes me so hard to follow in his footsteps. Like…he wants me to be…him."

“You sound like you're in a cage of your own." She gestured back to her straps. “Or wrapped in bindings, at the very least."

Arcturus chuckled. “Don't get me wrong, fair dragon. I do like the training. It keeps the mind fresh, and the body ready. I just wish…you know, that there was more to do besides swinging swords and learning how to…uhm…hurt dragons." Arcturus blurted those last two words out. He found it too difficult to lie when he stared right into her eyes. He wasn't proud of what his father wanted him to become, and, in many ways, Arcturus wanted the dragoness to understand that.

“Does that mean you look forward to slay a few dragons of your own?" She asked him with a slight raise in her voice.

“We don't train to just kill dragons. That's silly," He sighed as he grabbed a brush, dipped it into an open pot, and started with gentle strokes on the page. “We also train to kill monsters, undead, and anything else that would threaten a small village."

“How about your own kin? Do you train to kill other mortals as well?"

Arcturus stopped to think back to the many times his father had taught him how to wield a sword. How to analyze his opponent's movements. He remembered the weak spots his father taught him about, and how to easily strike and fell an opponent he was fighting. He had asked at the time what good it was, to learn how to kill other people when they were going to be fighting monsters and dragons. His father had only a single, obvious reply. It was dangerous times they lived in. Who knows what you would need to defend yourself from, when you land into the wrong place, at the wrong time?

“Yes, we did." He replied flatly, his blood turning to ice as he remembered his father talking in grisly detail of some of the numerous kills that he had gotten over the years. “But I do not fancy the killing part yet. Probably never will."

“Mmmmm?" Her eyes widened into amber slits. She looked surprised. Stunned, almost.

“I mean, I can kill a beast for food, like a deer or something of that sort. I can also defend myself...but to murder an intelligent creature in cold blood?" Arcturus shivered as he felt a cold tingle rush down his spine. “The mere thought chills me. I don't want to be a murderer for hire that is fueled only by the desire to get rich, or by hate for that matter."

“Those are strong words for a hatchling...What would you want to be, if given the opportunity?" She asked softly, in almost a whisper as she continued to stare at him.

“I prefer to be a knight." He thumbed his chest. “Protecting the innocent, helping others, defending those in need."

“You sound like a genuine paladin...Now hatchling." She cleared her throat with a snort. “What is your name? I would rather cease calling you that title, human, or little one. You have gained my interest, but perhaps you can earn even more than that by lending me your trust."

“My name?" He asked, sounding a bit more surprised than he should have. After all, she would be dead in a few days time, right? His mood darkened at the thought.

“Yes, your name. I assume you have one at this age."

“Ahem." He cleared his own throat in imitation of her, which got another mmmm along with a widening of her eyes. “Please call me… Arcturus Lund."

“Lund?" She wrinkled her snout at the mere mention of his last name. “You're their whelp?"

“Yes." He replied, cringing as she continued to glare at him. “I see you've already been introduced to that name by someone, or something…"

“Every dragon family that hasn't lived centuries inside their cave knows the Lunds." She growled slightly. “They have most likely claimed a life from every dragon family by now, at one point in your family history...So yes." She continued. “I know of the Lunds, and their legacy."

“Oh, I'm…sorry. I think. " There was a pregnant pause as he averted his gaze from hers. Arcturus focused back on the painting he was doing. He made sure to only take quick glances as he worked, finding it hard to look her in the eye. “What…excuse me. I shouldn't be so blunt as to demand. May I know what your name is?" He asked after a few minutes of passive silence.

“You may call me the Howling Tempest for now." She replied proudly.

“That's...a fancy name to have," He chuckled, dipping his paint again and returning to his work.

“What did you expect from a dragon, hatchling? The purry cat? The soft rabbit? Such names hardly befit a dragon."

“No, none of those." He looked up to her amused eyes. “But why Howling Tempest? I'm curious if you like storms or something like that, because I am a bit scared by them. Sometimes, I wonder if dragons even fly during a storm. Do they?"

“That, I'm afraid, is a tale for another time, little Arcturus. For now, all you need to know is what I've already told you."

“Fine." He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “There!" He pulled the brush away, smiling at the fine work he had done. He was proud he was able to capture her radiance in a simple amount of time. Despite her talking and engaging him, he found it quite pleasurable to do.

“How did it turn out?" She asked with a pleased croon. It made him laugh to hear such a noise coming from quite a large dragon.

“You want to see it?"

“Why else would I suggest you paint it? Of course I want to see a picture of me!" She laughed. “Now show it to me! I wish to see!"

Arcturus turned the paper around and held it out proudly to her, just like he did with the drawing before. He saw her eyes squint this time as she stared onto the page.

“Bring it closer. I cannot make out the fine details from here...but it looks nice!" She smiled, closing her eyes as she did so. “Can you bring it closer so that I may gaze upon your fine work from a more proper distance?"

He stood up with a smile, finding that, despite the previous warnings of his thoughts, he was moving towards the dragoness, returning her good cheer. If she was trying to distract him and manipulate him through her mood and flattery, then it was definitely working. Forgetting his safety, he took one last step towards her, but his foot caught a loose chain. His leg snagged, and he fell forward, but when he held his hands out to catch himself, Arcturus did not hit ground. Instead, his little fingers found warm scales, and the dragon's snout, pressed against his chest.

She had caught him from falling with her head.

Terror gripped Arcturus' heart for a moment as he just realized she was right under him. And that if she wanted to, she could sink her bright teeth into him and end his life in a flicker of time.

So this is how it ends for me, huh? He thought as his breaths came quick, and his heart threatened to leap from his chest. He closed his eyes and waited for the end to come from the swift strike of the dragon's gaping jaws. However, after a minute of silence and frenzied breathing, he was still alive. There was no sudden jerk or a snarl. There was not even a growl of displeasure. The only thing that did grace him was a puff of warm air as she snorted into the vest he wore.

“As much as I enjoy your soft touch along my scales, little one, please remove yourself from my head. It is ill fitting of a dragon to be used as a mere resting place for your lazy body."

“Oh!" He pushed himself away from the dragoness as he resumed his sitting position before her. “I-I'm so sorry about that. Gods…I did not mean to…you know...."

He made sure that he was at least three arm's lengths away from her head. He stared into her eyes while she stared into his own. There was an awkward silence between them, as he could only hear his own breathing, and feel the rapid pounding of his heart. “You…you didn't bite me!" He exclaimed at last, louder than he meant to. He quickly covered his mouth with both hands in surprise. “Sorry. I didn't mean that either."

“No... No, I did not bite you." She replied quietly, then quickly snorted. “Why would I do something so…thoughtless? Senseless even!" She rolled her eyes. “One important thing you need to know about me, young one, is that I do not harm hatchlings with my talons nor teeth, no matter what species they belong to. That is simply beneath me. I am not the monster you Lunds painted me to be."

“Oh, that's…I'm relieved. In a weird way, I am happy to hear that." Arcturus placed a hand to his chest, his breaths calming him down with each exhale as he gazed at her. She held him within her stare, unblinking. “I-I would never harm a hatchling too. Goes without saying. I'm not like those monsters you talk about either." He said at last, causing her to smile for a moment.

“Then you might be different from the rest of your kin, even if you bear their name." Her eyes suddenly shot up over his head, Arcturus looked back too. He heard a rustling noise from behind him and the drunken burp that must have been the guard returning to his post. “I think you might want to spirit yourself away before you are caught, Arcturus."

Arcturus ducked low as he gathered his things, hoping that those flaps would not open. He had no idea what would happen if the guard were to return and catch him, but he was sure it was against the rules to talk to the dragon. After all, why else have a guard here in the middle of the night? Maybe it was to protect her from the others drunken people, in case they wanted to carve out a bit of personal vengeance from the female's scales.

“I am grateful for the talk we had, human." She suddenly spoke up, causing him to look to her once more. “You will return tomorrow, will you not?"

Arcturus tilted his head slightly to the side as he raised an eyebrow. Did she think she could predict his actions? That he was this easy to read, like an open book?

“What makes you think I will be back at all?" He lowered his voice to sound as though he did not care.

“Oh...well, a simple look reveals all the answers you need. Your hunters have been stripped of everything but hope," she gave a rumbling noise in the back of her throat that sounded like a purr. “I saw the way you were transfixed by my scales, your hands, when you drew upon that paper of yours." She gave him a sweet smile and closed her eyes. “You will be back to talk to me...because you're...different." She ended the sentence with a soft snort, and a lick on her nose.

“Good night, Arcturus."

“Good night to you too, Howling Tempest." He waved to her, slipped under the tent as quickly as he could, and quietly made his way back to his own bed. He plopped onto his comfortable bedding with a sigh and tossed his pack onto the floor.

“What an encounter." He ran his hands through his hair with a smile. His heart was pounding as his thoughts went to what had transpired. He had talked to a dragon! An actual, living, breathing dragon! She had also been big and radiant, and much kinder than he could ever imagine of such a rugged beast. He sighed deeply as he sank down onto his bed. She had been a lot more different than what his father had kept on telling him. Once again, he found himself doubting his father's words.

“All dragons are evil, son. You must never trust the poison that comes out of their mouths, for even their words are a vile weapon. Allow your defenses to slip, and you're dead.

“Shut up," Arcturus sighed as he turned his face towards the window. This night was too beautiful to be spoiled by his father's hateful advice, so Arcturus looked at the stars until his mind became clear. Only then he allowed himself to fall into the realm of dreams, a realm where he could share the sky with his beloved dragons.

Thanks for reading along with this story! If you want to read more, it can be found at the end of Scales and Honor: The dragon's paladin. The book can be found here:

https://www.amazon.com/Scales-Honor-Dragons-Justin-Lee/dp/0692154825/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1532175350&sr=1-1&keywords=9780692154823

or here:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/scales-and-honor-...

The kindle version can be found here:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07G5NDQMM

The second part can be found here: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1491354