Sir Eyan looked across the ravine to the tower: carved marble with red-roofed towers, just as the witch had said. The only way across was a thin, swaying rope bridge. He dismounted his steed, removed his weapons, set his supply pack on the ground, and slapped the horse on its rump. As the horse ran off back home, he gave a salute and bade it farewell. Peering down into the ravine, he could see for about a hundred yards down, but no further as his vision was assaulted by a flowing river of lava that popped and gurgled like a fat lord’s stomach after a greasy feast.

No signs of a dragon yet, the knight thought to himself. He wished greatly that Frederick could have accompanied him on this quest, it would have only taken the comfort of his presence to lead them both across this deathtrap of rope and wood. The winds picked up, threatening to throw the bridge into a violent tumble, as if daring him to attempt a crossing. Eyan muscled over his trepidation to take his first step onto the bridge. As the plank groaned under his armored form, and a lava bubble burst loudly below, every bone in his body told him to abandon this foolish quest, to let some other knight take on this duty, save the princess. But that would be the certain end of Frederick, he knew. His father would never lay a finger on him, but he would kill the stable boy he found in bed with his son without a second thought.

“For Frederick.” Eyan said aloud as he pushed himself across the bridge. “I’ll get that lousy lord the daughter-in-law he wants. For Frederick!” Shouting across the ravine, gripping the rope with white knuckles, putting one foot in front of the other, quicker and quicker, his vision blurred and eventually disappeared. He blindly stumbled forward until his feet hit solid earth. Eyan fell to the ground, taking deep breaths, suffering more from his own anxiety than even the exertion in his plate armor. Now he was at the base of the dragon’s castle, looking across at the hills from which he had traveled. It had been a long journey across all of Minhold to get here: through woods, across rivers, over mountains. It all came to a head here, at the dragon’s lair where smoky clouds circled above, threatening lightning.

The wind howled now, and the bridge was being turned over like a sack being dumped onto the ground. Eyan wondered how he even made it across such a thing. He stood up and steadied himself on the wall of the keep. There was no portcullis lowered in front of the gate, so Eyan readied his shield and entered. Immediately inside the gate was a large courtyard with a tower at the opposite end, the yard was dotted with statues. The statues were dark, and contrasted starkly with the marble walls of the keep. Seven in total, by Eyan’s count, each in a different position. He approached one closest to the gate, the material was like nothing he had seen before, and the person it depicted...it was another knight. The statue was intricate in detail, the curly hair and crooked nose could have been breathing right before him. Eyan recognized it to be Sir Proust of Silverwall, who had come before to slay the dragon. He raised a hand to the statue’s cheek, but as soon as he touched it, the whole thing collapsed into a flutter of ash and dirt.

Eyan leapt back with a gasp, his heart suddenly beat on his ribcage like a prisoner yelling to be set free. Six more statues remained around the courtyard. Sir Havenmyr, Sir Grishen, Sir Yellen, Sir Thomas, Sir Percival, and Sir Traynt. The knights who came before Eyan stood around him now, all turned toward the gate caught in a desperate moment of flight.

The young knight looked around frantically for cover in the courtyard, there was seemingly none except his own shield, and the tower and the other side. Another thing occurred to him: there was no dragon. Not yet, at least. None of the other knights had made it to the tower, Eyan wondered if he should take that as his cue to run. Turn tail and head home, make a desperate rescue of Frederick and escape into the wilderness. Living as a fugitive from his father would be better than dying for his ambition. He looked to the gate, still open. There was the option. Frederick wouldn’t mind, he thought, we could fall in with some elves, or find our way south. But the first escape attempt stuck in his mind, the nasty scar that now adorned Frederick’s cheek from the beating he received. He was lucky to survive being trampled by that horse. Escape would not do.

Though his heart still thundered inside him, Eyan stepped forward now with resolve. Dragon or father, he was determined not to live in fear. He moved forward boldly, quick in step and shield first until he reached the end of the courtyard. As he approached the door at the tower’s base, a din of ratcheting gears and chains sounded off and the portcullis at the entry gate slammed down, sending a shudder across the courtyard. Eyan tied the door, only to find that it was locked and barred on the other side. Before he could take an ax out to chop it down, the steady howl of the wind was broken by the rhythmic flapping of enormous leather wings.

The great red lizard landed on the red tiled roof of the tower without so much as disturbing a shingle. “Step out to where I can see you...knight.” it said with disdain. “Let me look at the man who challenges me.”

Eyan loaded his crossbow, holding it akimbo with his shield and stepped out into the courtyard. The shield’s enchantment glimmered a little, as if to assure him that the dragon’s fire would not pass it. He put on as much an air of confidence as he could and stepped away from the tower. “Here I am, dragon.” he said, trying to mimic the dragon’s tone.

The dragon let out a deep rumble of a chuckle, Eyan could see it in full now: wings spread wide, teeth and claws shining brilliant white. When it laughed, he could even make out a grim smile on its scaly face. “Have you come to save the princess, armored man? To save her from my clutches?” it laughed again, its eyes glowing like hot coals.

“Let us be on with it, devil!” Eyan shouted up. With that he fired off the crossbow, the enchanted bolt sailing through the air. The bolt stuck itself into the shoulder of the dragon, nestling itself in between two scales, but missing the heart entirely.

A third, hearty laugh boomed from the dragon, “This fight will not be won so easily, knight.” It flexed its muscle, popping the bolt out from the scales, leaving no trace of any wound. “But I admire the fire in your heart. Now, see mine!” As it finished the word ‘mine’, a deluge of flame poured from its maw. Eyan raised his shield, which glowed with blue light as it created a magical barrier to protect him from the dragon’s breath. When he lowered the shield, the dragon had taken off and was circling overhead, climbing higher and higher. He pulled a hook and chain off his belt and watched for the dragon’s next move. “A fine trick, knight, but common. Surely one deserving of the maiden’s hand will have to do better!” The dragon’s taunt was no less audible from its great height. Suddenly it folded its wings in and turned straight downward, plummeting to the courtyard with immense speed, letting out a terrifying roar.

It was all Eyan could to throw himself out of the impact area before the dragon landed like a lightning bolt right where he had been standing. He scrambled to his feet clumsily in his armor, but managed to get upright while the dragon was still shaking off dust and rubble from its crash. Eyan rushed forward with the hook raised, aiming for the dragon’s neck. Before he could reach it, the dragon’s tail whipped in front of him, causing him to faceplant. “I see through you, knight. I’ve dealt with your kind for years!” Eyan craned his neck up to see the dragon’s claw poised to make a blow. He rolled to the side, but talons ripped into the back of his armor, gouging right through the metal like it was tissue. The whole breastplate came apart, and as Eyan landed on his back he felt bruising on his side and deep scratches on his back.

The dragon reared back, a glow starting to form in its mouth. Eyan curled into a ball and held his shield above him once more. The fire engulfed him fully, and the blue light of his shield began to flicker, he could feel the heat coming as a giant wave. Encased in flame, he thought of Frederick, his resolve was not weakened. When the flames stopped, he quickly located the hook and chain. They were red hot, searing through the leather of his gauntlets, but he gripped it tightly, got to one knee, and sunk it as deep as he could into the arm that had just ripped the breastplate off his back. The dragon let out a pained growl.

“Did you see that, monster?” Eyan said aloud, finding a moment to be pleased with himself.

“You fight with a purpose, knight.” the dragon said, almost calmly, “Let us test your resolve.” Eyan slid his hand down to the other end of the chain, where a metal stake was attached. As he drove it into the ground, a rippling of magical energy came from it. “Clever,” the dragon murmured, a hint of admiration in its voice, “but not enough to save you.”

Without another word, Eyan stood on both feet and drew his sword. When the dragon’s tail came whipping around this time, he parried it to the side and closed in on the dragon’s head. The head alone was the size of a horse, its mouth practically capable of swallowing the knight whole. The rows of bony daggers in its mouth would have frightened any warrior not stupefied by love or blindness. As the teeth began to close around him, Eyan lifted the shield once again. The blue light shone, then flickered. A crack appeared in the magical barrier as it struggled against the dragon’s bite. The crack grew, Eyan tried to push forward, enough to get his sword into dragon flesh. He stabbed and swung, hitting nothing, the crack grew and spread. Eyan managed another step forward, he caught the tip on a tooth. He pushed himself. One. More. Step.

Before he could swing, the shield’s blue light burst a bright white, throwing back both the dragon’s head and Eyan. A cloud of dust filled the center of the courtyard. Coughing and wobbly, Eyan stood up. His ears rang and his vision was clouded, but he gathered that the dragon was shaken from the explosion as well. He picked up his shield and tried raising it again. Nothing. There was now a crack in the shield, he saw. Exactly the same shape as had appeared in the enchantment, right across the neck of the buck in his family crest. He tossed the shield aside and took his sword in both hands.

The dust settled quickly, and Eyan saw the dragon tugging on the hook and chain he had placed. A shattering glass sound and burst of white light came from it to let him know that that enchantment was broken now, too. Instead of leaping to its next attack, or breathing fire, or taking off into the air, the dragon stood where it was.

“You fight well. The gate is there, knight.” it gestured its head toward the portcullis, currently ratcheting up into the upper wall. “Leave if you desire, you have earned that.” Eyan recalled how he had found the other knights, backs turned, fleeing. Moreover, he thought of Frederick. He knew what that stable boy would do.

“No.”

“No?”

Eyan glared at the dragon, readying himself for a last, desperate charge.

“I see through you, knight.” Eyan knew he could delay no longer. He took off as fast as his feet would carry him, putting everything into this charge. The fire spewed from the dragon, the fire in his heart was raging twice as hot, and he yelled out, “For Frederick!” With a final push, he thrust his sword into the chest of the dragon. Scales cracked and he could feel the dragon flesh separate around his blade. Bruised and bloody, Eyan looked up at the dragon’s face. No more fire poured from its mouth, its eyes went cold.

Slowly, the dragon’s form began to disintegrate like falling sand. The grains fell into a flow that defied the direction of the wind, following their own path. They flowed behind Eyan and gathered into the form of a woman. Eyan’s sword clattered to the ground, and the as the woman’s form completed, she said, “I see through you, knight.”