A couple of months had passed, and Aiden found himself enjoying a rare moment of peace in the fields on a tranquil afternoon.
Children ran through the tall grass, their laughter carrying on the breeze. Women washed clothes by the stream, chatting as they worked. Men tended to the fields, their steady rhythm adding to the serene backdrop.
It was beautiful.
Aiden sighed, his hand twitching with the need to hold his sword again. Killing was in his blood, and the quiet, idyllic life only served to highlight the restlessness simmering within him.
His parents, meanwhile, had become increasingly insistent about his future—marriage, family, stability. He sighed again, leaning back on the soft grass and shutting his eyes. He was grateful to his adoptive father, who had taken him in when he'd lost everything. But he was not a family man.
He didn't dream of a cozy bed, a beautiful wife, or cherubic children. No, his dreams were filled with fire and chaos. He dreamed of driving his blade through a dragon's throat.
The sound of his sister's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Aiden! Aiden!" Alessia's voice rang out, carried by the wind. He opened one eye to see her running toward him, her hair and skirt billowing in the breeze.
"I'm not deaf, Alessia!" he called back, sitting up.
"Father requires your presence. The knights are here!" she shouted, excitement clear in her voice.
Aiden's pulse quickened. Knights meant orders. Orders meant action. He stood, brushing grass from his pants, and made his way back through the fields toward the fortress.
Walking through the familiar halls, he arrived at the Chamber of Order, where powerful, high-ranking knights were already seated. His chair at the table stood empty, waiting for him.
"Come, sit," his father ordered gruffly.
Aiden inclined his head respectfully, offering a curt greeting to the knights as he took his seat. In the center of the table lay a large map, its surface marked with pins representing their villages and the king's palace at the center.
"A dragon is terrorizing the western border," his father said, pointing to a small village labeled Creeks.
Aiden's eyes followed the pin thoughtfully.
"You'll lead a troop of one hundred to eliminate it," his father continued. "You leave in three days."
Aiden nodded and bowed, accepting the order without hesitation.
As they left the chamber, his father clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I believe this will be an easy task, my son," he said, leading Aiden toward the dining hall.
Aiden shrugged. "What kind of dragon is it?"
"We have no detailed information yet," his father admitted. "It flies and has burned down the maize fields—that much we know. We're working on damage control before—"
"Before it escalates. Got it." Aiden finished the thought, his tone calm and decisive.
When they stepped into the dining hall, they were met with his mother's wrath.
"You're sending him to death's clutches again?" Agness snapped, setting plates down with enough force to make them clatter. Alessia assisted her, though she avoided meeting their father's eyes.
"It's his duty," his father said simply, taking his seat at the head of the table.
"His duty?" Agness scoffed, her voice rising. "You're sending him to die, just like you always do! After seven miscarriages, adopting this child was the only thing that kept me from losing my mind, and you think you can just—"
"Ma, I'll be fine," Aiden interjected gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She shook her head, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "He's no longer a boy, Agness," his father said, though his voice softened slightly.
"Tell your father we are not on speaking terms," she spat, folding her arms.
Aiden sighed. "Ma, don't be mad. I want to leave here happy."
Her lip trembled, but she managed a watery smile. "I hate that you chose to be a knight over a farmer," she murmured.
He nudged her playfully. "Smile for me, Ma."
She smiled through her tears. "Just promise me you'll marry someone when you return?"
Aiden nearly choked on his wine, earning a hidden laugh from his father.
"Brother would rather be burnt to ashes by the dragon," Alessia quipped, grinning as her husband joined them at the table.
---
The morning of the third day dawned gray and somber, the air heavy with the promise of rain.
The west was a two-day journey, and the weather was not on their side. Steep cliffs and marshlands lay ahead, and the rains would only make the trek more treacherous.
His mother packed enough food for five days, her tears spilling over as she kissed his cheek. "You better come home—you hear me?"
"I will," Aiden promised, embracing her tightly before mounting his horse.
The rain began only a few hours after they left the outskirts of the village, a fierce downpour that forced them to take shelter in a nearby cave.
Aiden sat by the fire, sharpening his blade. The rhythmic scrape of steel on stone filled the silence as his thoughts turned to the dragon.
"Don't worry, little dragon," he muttered under his breath, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You just wait."