Chapter Two: The Forgotten Legacy
1019 Words
Chapter 2: The Forgotten Legacy
"Aww man... there is nothing more."
The boy said this as he was going through the books. He searched everywhere, looking for anything that could explain the dragon, but nothing was there.
Eventually, tired from searching, he fell asleep with his little companion beside him.
In the morning, the sun beamed onto his face. He slowly opened his eyes, but then he heard something.
Drums.
The kind of drums that were used to alert the village that something was happening.
The towers around the village stood tall in all four directions, and the boy looked outside.
He saw groups of people gathering.
Then he saw his father.
He was on a wooden stretcher, being carried by four people. His father was injured, and some of the guards were injured too.
After a while, the healer allowed him to see his father.
His father looked at him and said,
"I am very proud of you, son. The day before your birthday, you proved you are a dragon slayer, even though you might not have slayed one yet, because we do not know if the dragon was immune to the dagger."
He paused.
"However, even though we could not find the dragon you injured, we found a family pack that attacked me and my guards."
The boy stayed quiet.
"Now, let me tell you the story of your ancestors. It is your tenth birthday. I think it is time."
His father took a breath.
"Once upon a time, our bloodline came from Vikings. We were one of the most feared bloodlines, the only ones who could face dragons face to face."
"We had respect."
"We were not commanders."
"We were leaders."
"We were kings."
"But one day, our ancestor found a dragon."
"He did not kill it."
"He petted it."
"They became friends... or something close to friends."
His father's voice became serious.
"But that was the dragon's trap."
"When he led the dragon back to the village, the dragon destroyed everything."
"Many innocent lives were taken."
"It was the strongest of all dragons."
"One of our ancestor's brothers lost his wife and child because of that dragon."
"Because of that, he swore to kill that kind of dragon."
"Many generations passed."
"Until one of my cousins, who came from that bloodline, killed the last one."
"And that last dragon..."
"Was the one who killed your mother."
"I am sure he was the last one."
The boy sat silently, thinking about the dragon hidden in his room.
His father looked at him.
"Hopefully, you are not upset that I never told you this story before."
A moment passed.
"But son..."
"I am proud of you."
A few hours later, the boy returned to his room.
The little dragon looked at him.
The boy stopped.
"I never saw him properly when we came out of the well."
He thought back to that moment.
He had been too focused on his father calling him that he never noticed the dragon's appearance.
The dragon had a whitish colour on his belly and chest, going up to his neck and ending at his tail.
The rest of his body was black.
His eyes were beautiful blue.
The boy stared.
"Wait..."
Before he could think more, the dragon turned towards a wooden training dummy.
Suddenly, he fired a powerful blast, almost like a plasma bomb, at the dummy.
"NO!"
The boy ran as fast as he could.
He quickly grabbed the dragon.
"You nearly got us caught!"
The dragon looked at him innocently.
The boy sighed.
Then he smiled.
"Alright..."
"I have a name for you now."
He leaned closer to the dragon's ear and whispered three times.
"Storm Rune."
"Storm Rune."
"Storm Rune."
The dragon looked at him.
The boy smiled.
"Alright, I'm going to the library. You stay here and make sure you are quiet."
The boy left.
As he stepped outside, the blacksmith, Mr Einar StoneForge, caught him.
"Where are you off to?" Einar asked.
The boy froze.
"Uh... nowhere. I might be going to the training field."
Luckily, a guard came running.
"Mr Einar StoneForge, Harald IronWolf is calling you."
The blacksmith turned.
"Alright, I'll be there."
The boy quietly smiled.
"Thank goodness... right timing. Thanks, Dad."
He ran to the library.
Inside, he searched through everything.
Books.
Scrolls.
Ripped letters.
Old records.
He threw them all onto a table.
From the sun at its peak in the sky until sunset, he searched.
Finally...
He found something.
A scroll.
It was filled with a strange red liquid. Nobody knew what it was.
He opened it.
The writing was ancient.
Most of it was impossible to understand.
But one part stood out.
Bold.
Black.
"If one should ever hatch again, the fate of both dragons and mankind will change forever."
The boy stared.
In his heart, he had no clue what it meant.
But his brain understood the message.
He quickly tied the scroll up.
He took it to Mr Einar StoneForge.
"Can you please tidy the basement out? I need it. The room is small, and I cannot work there. It would be a good birthday gift for me."
Einar agreed.
The boy went back to his father.
After a good feast for his birthday, he walked towards his father.
He held the scroll up but did not give it to him, because he was worried his father might rip it.
"What does this mean?"
The moment his father saw it, his face went red.
His brown beard shook.
It looked like steam was coming from his nose and ears.
"Throw that in the fire."
"You will know soon enough."
The boy did not argue.
He went through his empty diary papers and placed the scroll in his armour slot.
"Mr Einar is calling me. I have to go."
He went to the basement.
It was tidy.
He built a pinboard, a wooden one, and made sharp wooden pieces to stick papers onto it.
Then he placed his three links.
The old book.
His father's story.
The scroll.
Three clues.
Three mysteries.
All connected to Storm Rune.
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