I was born in the little town of Heltheow, a poor fishing village on the coast of the Brishad Sea. I was raised on its waters, with the feel of the north wind in my face and the taste of salt on my tongue.

I lived with my small family in a cottage on the stony beach, living out my days fishing and swimming in my sea’s icy waters.

My little village is in the northwest of the kingdom Marlow. It is cold and snowy there most of the time and is made of nothing but pine trees and ice.

Five others surround the kingdom of Marlow. These all lay in the land of Alderahsia, which is cut off from the rest of the world immense violent ocean, impassable by even the strongest fleet of ships.

As I grew older, I grew tired of my beloved fishing town and yearned for new things, new places. After living peacefully in Heltheow for sixteen years I left for our kingdoms capital, Selphma, on my forbidden journey.

This is where my story began.

As I threw my linen sack over my shoulder, which contained most of my possessions, I cast a regretful glance back to my childhood home. It was just a small, rickety wooden cottage in the woods just off the coast, but I had a lot of good memories there.
My family wouldn’t approve of this journey, but it was something I had to do. I had experienced practically nothing of this world, and I yearned for adventure. I have heard all the stories of the great heroes of old, and I want to have an adventure just like them. As it happens, I got exactly what I asked for, and like they say, it wasn’t what I expected.
Boy, I thought, were they gonna get a surprise when they woke up tomorrow morning, me gone, and a folded letter waiting for them at their bedside table, explaining why I had to leave.
I pictured them as they read the letter, my mother would be crying, and my father would be so furious, he would crush the letter in his fist. My little brother would be asking over and over, “Where did my Alex go? Where’s my Alex?”
It nearly made me turn around and walk back to the house, destroy my note, unpack, and pretend nothing had happened. But only almost.
I steeled my nerves and walked away from my home, down the small dirt path that would take me out of Heltheow and to the Giant’s Ridge, where I would cross a bridge into Larkwood. Then it would be a week’s hike through thick underbrush until I got to the next nearest village, an even smaller one by the name of Kiteras. There, I hoped to purchase some more supplies and water, a map, and possibly a horse or pony to help speed up my progress.
I had packed carefully, bringing just enough to get by on strict rations. I brought thin but warm woolen blanket just large enough to wrap around myself, a wineskin full of water (I was lucky to be traveling near a mountain spring most of the way to Kiteras), two changes of clothes and a jacket, and little bag of coins that I had been saving up for this journey.
I hoped to get a good ways out of Heltheow before I had to stop and rest, so it would be harder for my family to catch up to me and send me home, as I was sure that they would go after me the second they found out that I left.
In fact, I was lucky to have been able to leave in the first place; usually my father sleeps so lightly even the slightest sound or movement could wake him. As if by fate, my brother had caught sick the night before, and my parents had gotten next to no sleep. So, he went to bed earlier than usual because he was exhausted after working all day on the farm with little or no rest, and he could sleep through a hurricane tonight.
A slight breeze wafted through the trees, ruffling my hair and disturbing this quiet spring evening. The rosy afternoon light dappled the dirt road, casting the shadows of the leaves on the road, and illuminating the path with the green color of the light through the leaves. Elm, oak, beech, dogwood, and too many other trees to name lined the road and birds and other small animals flitted between them, getting home to rest after the day’s events.
I ate my meager supper while I walked, enjoyed the nature around me, and eagerly awaited the long journey ahead of me.
I hiked until it was long after dark, and I was well out of Heltheow. I found shelter a little ways off the road in a small hollow at the base of a cavernous tree.
I set my pack in a small niche deeper in the tree and lay down on a bed of moss and ivy with my blanket and fell into a long, contented sleep, my last thought being, Not a bad start.
But I’d slept too long and it was past midmorning when I packed up and started off, again eating while I walked.
I continue on swiftly, not stopping to enjoy my surroundings as I had the night before, because I knew that now, I was being pursued by my family.
The day passed without incident until I made my way out of the woods surrounding Heltheow, and reached the Golden Plains, named for their yellow grasses. The plains sprawled in all directions for miles, and I had to follow the road for several more days until I came to Giant’s Ridge.
I stopped in my tracks for a second, and then I continued on at my rigorous pace. The edge of the Golden Plains was the farthest I’d ever been from home before today.
That was when things started to go wrong. I’d barely gone a few feet onto the trampled golden grass when I heard labored hoof prints from behind me, as if from an animal pushed to their limits for a day or more.
“Come on Jason, just a little bit further! Come on you great ugly brute, move it! We’re almost there!” the voice came from behind me, from the man on the abused animal apparently called Jason.
Jason, I thought, the name of one of our packhorses. It can’t be a coincidence!
I turned my head, and sure enough it was my father, driving Jason towards me. The horse looked like it was about drop dead from exhaustion; spit was frothing at his mouth and dribbling onto his chin, his limbs dragging in the dirt, and his eyes lined with red.
They were too close for me to escape or get away, so I accepted the inevitable and turned all the way around, revealing myself to my father.
He calmly dismounted, and walked Jason over to me. I kept my eyes down, avoiding his gaze, and I didn’t look up until he was standing right in front of me.
I looked up, and flinched as I saw his expression of such disappointment and pain, that I felt like the meanest person alive to have put my family through that.
I stuttered as I tried to explain, “I- I couldn’t stay there anymore. I just had to leave. I couldn’t stand it anymore, I need adventure not just the boring life of a farmer that I’m bound to get if I don’t leave. It’s not like its forever; I’m going to come back. Don’t you understand? I need to do this!”
He stayed quiet through my speech, then after a short moment of consideration, responded by saying, “I do understand, to an extent. But do you understand what you put me and your mother through leaving us like that?”
“But-” I tried to say.
“Don’t say anything yet,” he interrupted me, “I know that you need to do this, you were never the type to settle down and do what you’re told. But that doesn’t mean I approve,” I nodded in response, glumly looking at the ground, sure that I was going to be sent home like a misbehaving child. He continued, “So, I’m going to let you go, against my better judgment. I’ve known for years that I was going to have to do this someday, but that doesn’t prepare you for it. Especially since you left without asking or even telling us, sneaking out when we were all asleep!” he laughed.
“So I’m here to give you my blessing, and your mothers, for you to carry on your travels, among other things. Do you accept?” he said.
“Of course father,” I said, my voice dripping with emotion.
“Then you have it,” he said gruffly, smiling down at me, “And also some advice. For one, be careful, don’t take unnecessary risks. Be honest and truthful, and don’t judge others unjustly. Follow your heart and don’t let others decide how you live your life. Make your own choices and let them be for the right reasons, or you may find yourself living someone else’s life. If you follow this, you should live a happy life. Let it be long and prosperous one, devoid of bad luck and misfortune.”
He pulled me into his arms and whispered, “Goodbye Alex,” into my ear. I could hear the tears in his voice.
I replied, “Goodbye father,” also with tears in my voice.
He let go of me, reached into his saddlebags and handed me a pouch with some more draches of gold and silver, a gold chain and necklace of my mothers, and a letter from my family that brought more tears to my cheeks.
“Thank you so much father,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” he replied quietly and mounted Jason who whinnied in discomfort, his eyes drooping and limbs dragging. They turned around and started to make their way back home, leaving me to make my way onwards in this warm April afternoon.
I shouted after him, my excitement catching up with me, “I’ll see you soon father, and tell you about all my adventures!”
I then turned and walked in the other direction, continuing on my journey to Selphma.

I reached this sprawling city with its golden halls and towering church spires little less than four months after I left my home. I was amazed by the grandeur that was upheld in Selphma’s cobbled streets, side alleys and in the shops and apartments that crowd Main Street. But what was far more surprising and astonishing, was the people that walked through them.

They were of every sort you could think of. Merchants and sailors, shopkeepers and paperboys, elegant ladies that strode the streets in long flowing gowns at the arm of their knights in shining armor. There were hermits and robbers that guarded the cities dark alleyways and children that played gaily in the streets, as if they had not a care in the world. There were dukes and duchesses, peasants and their wives and their many ragtag children. There were even pickpockets dressed in their old patched garments, searching for a loose pack or bag to pick.

I slowly made my through the city streets, strolling among the throngs of people, taking in the beauty around me, while aiming for Selphma’s city square, which contained a grand plaza.

At the center of the plaza lay a magnificent fountain carved from pure white marble. The fountain was engraved with thousands of indecipherable symbols from ages past.

Its crystal clear blue water lay stagnant in the fountains bowl, not spraying about happily as is normal for us, though this is normal in Selphma.

By law, whenever someone visits Selphma, they must toss a golden coin into the fountain, because of a legend that was supposedly prophesized long ago.

The legend goes as such: One day, centuries from now, a person is going to come on a long journey to the fantastic city of Selphma and they are going to stop at the fountain in the grand plaza in the center of the city. They will toss a golden coin into the fountain’s center and when the gold touches the clear blue water, the fountain will spray again after long silence, showing all that that person would be their savior and bring this city out of a time of great sorrow.
For four hundred years the fountain remained silent and wouldn’t shower for anyone, not man, woman, or child. It never had and never would, or so I thought.
And so the king of that time, I think it was King Abermann, took it upon himself to make it a law that you had to toss a gold into the fountains clear water whenever you visit Selphma for the first time. If you should ignore this mandate, thinking it folly, then you shall be punished as the king sees fit. This law is mandatory until the prophecy is fulfilled.
Since our current king isn’t a fan of leniency, and loves a good beheading, I had no intention of becoming a lawbreaker anytime soon (even though it was a waste of a good gold coin, I mean tossing it in a fountain? Seriously?).
I finally made it to the square and strode directly to the fountain. I reached inside my sack for my coin purse, which contained the gold coin that I had been saving for this occasion. My hand groped and shuffled through the few items in the sack but it didn’t seem to be there. I searched again, this time more vigorously, but again came up with nothing. I emptied the contents of my sack onto the ground and rifled through them. No coin purse turned up. I would have to accept it, someone had stolen it.
It could have been anyone on those crowded streets. All it would take is a slight bump by a clever pickpocket, a carefully calculated grab, and away goes my purse.
It wasn’t only a gold piece in there either.
There was a gold chain and necklace of my mothers that she’d given me to sell or trade with, over 150 draches of silver, bronze and gold coins, and a letter from my family back home. It was a devastating loss.
Now all I had were a few changes of clothes, a wineskin half full of water, and a bag of dried fruit and meats.
I despaired. I didn’t have enough supplies to even come close to making it halfway home even with severe rations, but I had nowhere to stay in Selphma without money and no one to ask for help. I could work to pay off lodging fees, but I had limited knowledge, let alone training, in anything but fishing and there wasn’t a body of water big enough to house fish within fifty leagues of Selphma. In short, I was doomed.
I sat slumped at the edge of the fountain, leaning against its side, a look of complete despair and hopelessness on my face. My things were still strewn about me, being stepped on by the crowd.
After a while, a middle-aged man came along. He had a commanding air about him, and was dressed richly, though simply. He held a carved wooden cane in his right hand that he was swinging around him like a baton, and he held a simple golden ring on his left ring finger, a sign of commitment for everyone to see.
He stopped next to me, put a hand on my shoulder, and said, “What’s wrong? I hate to see a fellow distraught and lonesome, especially on a day like today.”
I pulled myself together and replied, “And what special day would that be?” avoiding the question as the kind man pulled me up and I brushed myself off.
I had just begun gathering my things and stuffing them in my leather sack when he said, “Did you not notice the unusually large crowd in the streets today?” he continued before I could reply, “You’re visiting aren’t you? Throwing your golden coin in the fountain as is the tradition? Yes I thought so. Anyway, today is tournament day, as I said. It’s a day of celebrations and festivities that we all enjoy together while watching a display of strength and courage in battle,” he kept talking, and then asked, “So, whatever could be troubling you?”
He looked at me with his pair of kind eyes and I just knew I could trust him, especially since he’d been kind enough to stop and talk to me in the first place. So, I told him everything.
When I was finished with my tale he just said, with a slight smile on his lips, “Come, lets enjoy the festivities together,” and strode away, not bothering to check to see if I was following. But I came without hesitation anyway.
“By the way, my name is Bernard,” he said, shouting from far ahead, invisible in the tumultuous crowd.

Bernard invited me to stay with him, and I paid for his generosity by working in his shop. It took less time then I thought to learn the tricks of the trade, though I wouldn’t have been able to do it with Bernard’s kindness.

I sent letters to my family in Heltheow, told them of all my hardships and triumphs in Selphma, and asked them to come and visit sometime soon while they begged me to come home. But I couldn’t.

I was in love with the city and it’s people, rather odd though they may be. I couldn’t leave, at least not yet. I lived in peace, at least for a little while.

One day, nearly a year after I arrived in Selphma and Bernard took me in, I was running Bernard’s shop and it was just another Tuesday.
Then I started smelling the smoke. It caught me attention, but it wasn’t completely uncommon. Occasionally, the homeless set small fires in the small square in front of the shop. Though it wasn’t normally in the middle of the day, or so far off from winter. But I still did nothing.
The scent of burning wood quickly got stronger. It soon got to the point where I couldn’t pretend to ignore it anymore. I was just getting up when I heard her scream.
I sprinted outside, nearly knocking over stacks of books (did I mention Bernard was a bookseller?) and skidded abruptly to a stop.
It was Bernard’s daughter, only five or six, standing in the middle of the cobbled street, and screaming her heart out.
The smell of wood smoke was stronger outside, and I glanced around scanning the ground vainly for the source of the smoke, assuming that was the reason for her scream.
It took me only a few seconds to find it, “Fire!” I screamed, “Those houses are on fire!”
Nobody heard me. Or they did and chose to ignore me. They were all looking up at the sky. I glanced up, wondering what the hell was going on. I did not expect to see what I did. I mean, who would when the answer is an enormous, fire-breathing dragon?
I looked up and I saw him. It was magnificent, yet horrible, his scales nearly to bright to look at. He was a flame in the sky and seemed to be setting it alight with the way his scales reflected the sun. His long, snake-like tail lashed about in the air furiously, as if batting off invisible enemies.
His roar was a sonic boom, the flames streaming from his jaws as hot as the sun and he was aiming them directly at the streets and buildings and people that I’d come to know and love. He brought destruction and left chaos and death in his wake. He caused fear in the hearts of all. He had to be the legendary Mrothgas dragon.
Naturally, everyone panicked, and that just made him happier. Not only did he cause death, he enjoyed delivering it.
That last realization pushed me over the edge. It terrified me beyond anything else. The things I saw and heard and felt confused me. Everything was overwhelming, it blurred and roared and made no sense. I felt dizzy and nauseous and light headed. It was as it my brain had shut off and stopped processing the things that were happening around me, but things kept happening.
I vaguely heard a street messenger shout, “Get to the kings hall! Get to the city square!” over and over again, getting fainter and fainter each time. I felt someone urging me forward. The man pushed me again, this time harder and brought me to my senses. It was Bernard.
“Get to the king’s hall,” he said, “You will find refuge there. I must stay and find my wife.” Bernard instantly vanished in the throngs of panicking, screaming, moaning people.
I aggressively pushed my way through them, the throng condensing by the second. I headed towards the square, knowing it was useless to try and find Bernard and convince him to come with me, he would find his own way.
It took me nearly an hour to get to the square, which was normally a five-minute walk. As I got closer to the king’s hall, it was practically impossible to move but somehow I made it through the impassible crowd to the halls enormous double doors.

I wormed through the crowd and when I got about halfway through the hall, I faintly heard the queen giving a speech, though I was arriving in the middle of it.

“The entire southwest side of the city has been completely demolished and the southeast side is so immersed in smoke that we couldn’t get close enough to assess the damage, though I assume it’s critical. The other half of Selphma hasn’t been damaged by the Mrothgas dragon (so it was the Mrothgas dragon) but has by the people attempting to escape him. In the flash mob that occurred there hundreds of people were injured and several killed.
“In the homes and streets that were destroyed by the dragons fire, hundreds have been killed or critically injured and twice that have gotten more minor injuries. We have lost many of our people today.
“I didn’t want to come up here and lie to you, coddling you, saying ‘everything would be alright’ like a mother comforting her child after they skin their knee. I went here to tell you the truth for how it is and state the hope that was already there, not ant that I made up. And that is exactly what I have done, state the truth. But I have two other people here who would like to give you the hope. Or, at least one.
“So,” she smiled, “Which would you like to hear first, the good news or the bad?”
A laugh rippled through the audience, even the queen let out a giggle, and various shouts of “good” and “bad” resounded in the hall.
“So? Which will it be? Good or bad?”
Everyone shouted out his or her opinions at the same time and the noise was deafening in the hall, though there was a clear majority.
“Bad news it is,” the queen said and motioned to older man, standing almost directly in front her, to come up and stand next to her.
“As our good queen said, I have bad news to tell all of you,” he began, “And I’m sorry that it won’t provide the hope that you were wishing for. I am a bookseller of rare manuscripts up in the northeast side of Selphma.” Ah, I thought, so this is Nickolas Sopophen, Bernard’s competition in the book selling business. But back to the speech:
“Recently,” he continued, “I took in an extremely rare document whose main subject was the Mrothgas dragon. It had anything you would ever want to know about him within its pages.
“I’ll get right to the point. One thing in there was the dragon’s track record. In the past, in nine out of ten instances in fact, when raiding a city or town, the dragon comes back only a few days after the initial attack to steal any treasure the city might contain while it is still recovering from the havoc it had wrecked only a few days earlier.
“The fact of the matter is, the Mrothgas dragon is coming back within the week to reap his reward.” Nickolas concluded and stepped away from the queen who looked rather distraught and disappeared in the crowd.
Without any introduction, a woman in her mid twenties stepped out next to the queen and began to speak.
“And I have the good news and the hope!” she said in a squeaky, childlike voice that I instantly hated, “I know that not all of you believe in the power of fortunetellers, but I have been invited by the queen,” (she said it like it was the most important thing that had ever happened to her, and probably was), “to tell you that I have the answer!”
As if she expected exuberant applause at the statement, she threw her head back and spread her arms apart. When we responded with silence at her idiocy (it made my day) she continued her speech a little less enthusiastically.
“The queen has invited me here today to ask the ancient spirits to guide me to the person in this room who could defeat the dragon in combat and be the savior of Selphma!”

As you might be able to guess, the fortuneteller picked me, of course.
While she was “summoning the spirits” it was silent as the dead in the hall. I took advantage of the stillness to worm my way to the front and I was quickly in a front row seat. I stood there for what felt like hours, listening to her chant nonsense and wave her arms like a madwoman, all the time the anticipation keeping my stomach clenched in a knot.
Not soon enough, the fortuneteller stopped chanting, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, her arms lay limp at her side. After a few seconds of this, she jerked violently out of her trance, nearly falling on top of the old woman in front of her. She got back to her senses and said, “There stands your hero, the savior of Selphma,” she pointed at me and promptly collapsed to the ground.
There was uproar in the hall. People started shouting at me and pushing and shoving me, while others openly rejoiced. Everyone was laughing and crying, talking, shouting and making noise in general.
I was in shock. I stood, stock still, while the chaos reigned around me like I was an uninteresting statue that happened to be in everyone’s way. The news the fortuneteller had delivered was insane! I can’t fight a dragon! I thought I couldn’t even hold a sword!
Meanwhile the queen was pulling the fortuneteller up, her pale, spindly fingers grasping at the woman’s thick set of shoulders, a look of panic on her face. More and more people began to notice the fortuneteller’s situation, and the noise slowly died in the hall.
“Guards! Guards!” the queen gasped, still trying in vain to pull the woman to her feet. Two knights in cheap, rusty armor swiftly came, roughly pushing through the crowd.
They took her away as fast as they could, desperately trying to get her to a doctor before it was too late.
The queen stood up straight ad brushed herself off, her face gaunt and pulled tight with extra worry for the fortuneteller.
She walked towards me and said, “Come, child. Let us prove her correct. Let us prove that you are our savior.” The crowd was again dead silent as she said again, louder, so everyone could hear her, “Come, my child, so we can prove the fortuneteller right and you can save us from the Mrothgas Dragon!”
Everyone cheered for me, which was a surreal experience. Why are they applauding? I don’t know them and I haven’t done anything for them. We’re not even sure that I am their savior, and even if that is so, what are the chances that I will be able to defeat the monster? No it cannot be me. It cannot be me. Yet still, they cheered for me, a total stranger, because I was their only hope, their only chance to get out of this and they trusted in that, however blind that trust may be.
The queen guided me through the cheering crowd, helping me make my way through to the fountain in the square beyond.
After several minutes of that, I was soon standing at the fountains base, holding a shiny gold coin in my right hand. At the queen’s urging, I lightly tossed the gold piece into the fountain’s bright, clear, water. The coin sank slowly through the liquid, twisting and turning in the small current it had created with impact. The piece settled with a light clink on top of the hundreds of coins before it.
He effect was instantaneous. The water began frothing like a freshly opened bottle of champagne.
The noise the people made was astounding. Spellbinding. It brought me to my knees. I had been so sure I wasn’t the one, so sure that the fortuneteller had been a fake and had made a stupid prediction just to get the queen’s attention. I was wrong. I was going to die.
I broke down in front of my screaming, shouting, cheering crowd.

I woke up on a magnificent bed, a soft, down filled duvet piled on top of me, drowning me in its silkiness. The bed was placed in an unfamiliar room with, a red woven carpet on the floor and golden wallpaper on the ceiling. Tapestries and grand paintings covered the walls.

A carved mahogany door was open, leading to a dark, empty hall.

I stood up and walked down the carpeted hallway. I mad it about five feet before I heard voices down the hall. I walked quicker, bolder now that there was a sign of human life. I turned a corner and there stood the queen and her advisor, a middle-aged woman who was talking anxiously to the queen. The queen shot her a look and the woman clamped her mouth shut as quickly as was possible.

“Ah, there is our hero-to-be!” the queen said assuredly, “ You fainted in front of the fountain and we brought you here, to my castle. You slept for several hours, we were starting to worry.”

“I . . . . . . ” I yawned, “ . . . . . . I’m fine.” I said shakily.

“Well in that case,” said the queens advisor, “We have to figure out what we’re doing. It’s nearly dusk and you don’t have that much time to travel today, but the dragon could get here at any time and we don’t know-“

“That’s the problem,” the queen interrupted, “We just don’t know. We need to figure that out and as soon as possible.

“Dolores,” the queen addressed her assistant, “Call a meeting of my higher council in five minutes and we can decide then what our champion should do.”

* * * * * *

I sat down in the red leather chair the queen had pointed to. I wonder what this chair would have cost? I thought. One Hundred gold coins? One thousand? Either way, I would never be able to afford it.

I slouched in my seat and looked around the room. Various important people were sitting in chairs just like mine. I was sitting at the head of table, on the right side of the queen. On the left, the queen’s advisor, Dolores, sifted through a stack of old, delicate parchment, looking for more information on the Mrothgas Dragon and the route to get there. Going down the long wooden table, there was an assortment of knights, pages, dukes and duchesses, famous scientists and various nobles. I was happy to see the fortuneteller sitting at the other end of the long, rectangular table, chatting to her neighbor.

We were in a fairly large hall, with plenty of space for everyone to sit comfortably. The table sat on a shiny wooden floor that looked as if it had just been waxed. Overhead there was a great domed ceiling that had colored glass set in various shapes and designs. There was one of a dove flying over a green landscape with a lake in the distance and another of the king and queen’s crowns sitting on a red velvet cushion with our kingdoms flower, the lily, draped in front.

On the walls draped magnificent tapestries of all colors, woven in beautiful patterns not unlike those in the colored glass overhead. Windows of clear glass let shafts of light into the room and illuminated the party that had gathered there.

Most of the guests had arrived and taken their seats by now, though there still was some empty chairs scattered about the room. But, it seemed like this was all the company we were to get, and that was confirmed when a page closed the large double doors that we went through to enter the room. Everyone fell silent and went to look at the queen.

“Okay, so lets get right down to business,” the queen said, “I am sure that you have heard about the incident at the fountain?” she asked, looking about the crowd for their answer.

“Good,” she said when she saw all of them nod, “One less thing to explain. So I suppose you also know why you are here. We must decide how our champion is to defeat the insurmountable Mrothgas Dragon and we must do it as quickly as we can.”


And so the meeting proceeded. I won’t bore you with the details of the hours deliberation. It was my life they were talking about and I still nearly fell asleep. Those people really don’t know how to make a decision. They kept second guessing themselves and wasting precious time.
They argued well into the night and it wasn’t until extremely late that we had a plan.

I wasn’t expected to be gone for more than two days, but the queen gave me enough supplies for four or five meals just in case something went wrong. I was given a bag for my food, water, a woven mat to sleep on, and a thin blanket. I was also given magical boots called seven-league-boots that allow me to walk seven leagues in every step. They’re really unnerving to use because when you take one step, you find yourself in a completely different place, and if you get the angle wrong when you turn around to go back, you might find yourself miles from where you intended to be.

The queen also sent me to the blacksmith to get a suit of armor, chain mail, and my sword.

The experience wasn’t as horrible as I was expecting. The smithy measured me in pretty much any way you could imagine (shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist, circumference of my wrist, around my waist and chest etc.) and then found the pieces of armor that were likely to fit me the best, soon as he didn’t have time to make me my own set.

On my way back, I ran into the smiths apprentice on the stairs and he spotted my sword.

“Ah, now this is a beautiful blade!” he exclaimed.

“I agree, though my opinion doesn’t count for much,” I replied as I handed him the sword to examine to his liking.

“It isn’t only beautiful though, not at all,” he said, ignoring what I had said and continuing on this one-sided conversation he was having, “This blade is special.”

Really? I thought to myself. What does it do? Kill dragons? All by itself? Because that’s pretty much the only superpower I need right now.

The man continued, not privy to my thoughts, “According to myth, this blade can turn any novice into a legendary warrior, but you have to really need it, you have to really want it.”

Then the apprentice handed me the sword, and kept walking down the stairs as if nothing had occurred.

When I got back to the queen’s chambers, she walked straight up to me, handed me my pack and said, “The last thing I can give you to help on this journey is advice. Will you accept it?”

I nodded.

“The dragon has but one weakness,” the queen said, “His treasure. He will want to make sure you aren’t a threat to it and it will distract him, make him an easier target.”

She made sure I understood then pushed me out the door into the hall and a page guided me out of the palace, to the gate, and sent me on my way to my imminent demise.

The journey was so easy with those boots it was kind of ridiculous. It had taken me months to walk from Heltheow to Selphma, and Selphma to the dragon’s lair in the Mrothgas Mountains was a longer journey than that, but it took me less then a day.

I had left in the early morning, before dawn, and I had been up all night, so I was tired and I camped out for the night at the foot of the mountains. I didn’t have any protection from the weather with just a woven mat and a thin woolen blanket, so I was forced to hunt for shelter.

After about half an hour of scrambling over loose stones and dirt I eventually found a small dry cave in which I spent the long, uncomfortable night. No matter how tired I was I still barely got any sleep that night. The floor of the cave wasn’t exactly smooth and my mat definitely wasn’t thick enough to make it comfortable. Also, its cold up near the mountains and all I had to protect myself from cold drafts was my thin blanket.

I woke up from my short and fitful sleep at the crack of dawn and began scrambling up Drahsé, the highest peak in the Mrothgas mountains, the peak the contained the dragons lair.

I made it to the top at around noon where I ate small lunch and left everything behind but my armor and my sword.







So now you are caught back up to the present. With me scared out of my mind, hoping to god that the sword will see me as worthy of its gifts, the queen’s tactic would work, a miracle would happen, and I would save Selphma and be a hero. Meanwhile, in front of me a sleeping dragon is waking up and I’m supposed to kill it.

I, the queen, was nervous.
I’d sent my youngest, newest, most inexperienced knight on the most dangerous quest of them all. And there’s a lot to pick from I’m telling you. I mean what was I thinking? On top of it all, she was supposed to return two days ago and she hasn’t got back yet. Yes, SHE was supposed to return two days ago. The first female knight ever! Though, the fortuneteller was adamant that she was the right choice and the fountain did spray for her, and I’d believed in the signs.
Now I wasn’t so sure.

I paced in the hall, almost sure now that she had failed in her task. Yes, I was almost sure that she had died.

What should I do? This is a crisis! To give my people hope and then pull it out from under their feet! Who does that?! And it wasn’t like the king was going to help. Ever since the attack, he’s been in bed moaning about something or other.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh n-
Stop it! I told myself, jerking out of the circle of despair. This is just the panic talking.
You should give another speech and send another person out to face the dragon. I thought. Yes and make this one all stupid and inspirational. But that sounded lame even I my head.
I was about to give the order to send everyone to the hall for my lame speech when the enormous double doors, the entrance to the king’s hall, slammed open. All the people that had remained in the hall because they were homeless stood up and turned to get a look at the newcomer.
It was my lady knight, carrying the head of the dragon skewered on her sword, her armor in tatters and completely barefoot.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, “I lost the seven league boots. They got slashed to pieces when I stepped right into a swordfight between two gypsies when I was two steps from home and had to walk the rest of the way.”
I realized there were tears streaming down my face, “All hail Alexis!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, “All hail Alexis, the savior of Selphma!”