Disclaimer: I do not own the Dungeons & Dragons™ franchise or any other companies this story references.
In a dark room of a very quiet home, a child sleeps peacefully. But suddenly, its brow furrows and he begins to whine. Soon enough, that whine turned into a cry. A light to flicker in the hallway as a beautiful woman in white robes entered the room. Her hair was pure black, reflecting a little light from the candle she was carrying. Though her eyes burned a bright red, they had a soft and kind nature to them. She sat the candle on the nightstand and lifted the baby out of its cradle. She shushed gently and rocked the child back and forth in her arms.
"My child . . ." she said softly, "why do you cry?" She swept the little hair that was on the child's head back as she comforted it. Then, the child's crying halted and it opened its eyes, glistening bright red in the light of the candle. The child smiled and began to reach for his mother's face. Its hands gently rubbed against the soft scales that speckled his mother's face. She grinned at this and held the child's hand, but her smile slowly faded. Tears began to gather in her eyes. "You have a long and difficult journey ahead of you, my child, one that not even I can help you along," she whispered softly, choking on every word as if they were poison. "You know that I love you and your father, but for both of your safety . . . I must leave you."
She lifted the child and gently laid it back in its cradle, kissing its forehead. She wiped the tears from her eyes and blew out the candle. Before she left the room, she turned and took on last look at her son.
"Good bye . . . Aaron," she softly said as she left the room. Aaron, upset that his mother was leaving, began to whine as he lay in bed. He rolled his head and looked out the window, seeing his mother standing at the edge of the lawn. She turned and met with Aaron's eyes, blowing him a kiss through the window. Then, her form began to change.
Her back stiffened as leathery wings emerged from her robes, her feet lengthened as her legs bent into a new form, and her face grew longer as horns grew from her forehead. A tail whipped from beneath her cloak as she took off into the night, causing cries of fear from nearby houses at the sight of a dragon. She flew towards the horizon, letting out a roar that shook the earth, but, to the child she knew and loved, sounded like a song of great beauty.
Now, Aaron lay in the dark, crying with great passion. Another light came to the doorway, carried by a man in his sleeping attire. His complexion was dirty, like that of a farmer, but his features were chiseled and handsome. His red hair was tied back to keep hair out of his face, but a few grey strands hung over his brow. He sat his light down and held his child in his strong hands. He rocked Aaron back and forth in his arms and tried to pacify him, but his attempts were unsuccessful. As he sat there, holding his crying son in his arms, he began to sing an old song he had heard on his travels.
Soon enough, Aaron was sound asleep in his hands, cooing gently as he rested. His father gently laid him in his cradle and left the room. He was about to go back to bed when he heard someone knocking on the door. He quickly went to the door, hoping that it wouldn't wake Aaron. When he opened the door, he found a man dressed in a poorly furnished set of armor.
"John, there's been a dragon sighting," the man said, pulling off his helmet and patting down his sweaty and dirty hair.
"Brutus," John sighed, rubbing his eyes, "you of all people should know I've hung up my blade for good." He glanced at the wall to find his long sword from his service in the Legion. "And I can't leave my son here."
"No," Brutus groaned, pulling John closer, "They saw the dragon come from your home, John . . . they know what Meridia really was now."
John staggered back as if he had been struck by a troll. He looked at Brutus with a look of fear and horror. "So . . . how are they going to proceed?" he asked solemnly, even though he already knew the answer.
"You know it's the law that no man should have any affiliation with any dragons, so they're fixing to hang you and . . ."
"WHAT OF THE BOY?!" John roared, not caring about his fate.
"They . . . plan to take a blade to his throat . . ." he said, trailing off as he finished his statement. Tears welled in John's eyes as he rested his head on the frame of the door. He wanted to shout to the skies and curse the gods for the cruel hand they had dealt. He thought all was lost, but a dim idea of hope flickered in the back of him mind. He realized that even though his fate was sealed, his son's future was still unwritten.
"Brutus," he said, looking at Brutus with pleading eyes, "you have been a dear and loyal comrade to me for many years. Now . . . I ask of you a favor that I may not be able to repay. I want to take my son far away from this place. I know this is a lot to ask from one man, but I know I can trust you, Brutus."
Brutus looked uneasy for a minute, like he was weighing the risks and rewards. But finally, he raised his head and grinned at John with a look of assurance.
"I would march through the Gates of Hell for you," he stated, "and then go there and back again." He grabbed John's shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. While in Brutus's arms, John could see the town's Legionnaires gathering in the streets and marching towards them.
"I will buy you some time, my comrade," John said, retrieving his sword from its mantle, "but you must leave now."
Understand that time is of the essence, Brutus disappeared into the house. When John turned, he found himself standing face to face with a group of 50 Legion soldiers. Among them was a captain with blue stripes painted on his armor. The captain removed his helmet and addressed John.
"John Monroe," he stated, "you are charged with Treason against the code of the Empire and plotting with dragons! You are under arrest, and we will be imprisoning you along your child! Please come quietly or we'll have to use lethal force!" John smirked at this and drew his sword.
"I guess it's time to make some noise, then!" John yelled as he charged at the Legionnaires.
Before they even had time to react, John had already swung his blade and taken out three soldiers. Two soldiers tried to flank him, but he was too quick. He caught the arm of one soldier and swung it at another, killing the second. John released the soldier's arm and plunged his blade into his enemy's flesh. As that soldier fell, three more charged. He quickly dodged the first and swung low, sweeping the soldier off his feet. Then, the next swung his blade vertically, trying to catch John's shoulder, but John simply side-stepped, let the soldier's swing hit the dirt, and smashed his helmet in with the hilt of his sword.
The last one swung for John's abdomen. John jumped back, but not far enough, for the soldier's blade cut through the edge of his shirt. John regained his footing as the soldier moved in for one more strike. The soldier swung at John's head, attempting to score a fatal blow, but John anticipated this. He rolled below the soldier's swing, planted his sword into the ground and uppercut the soldier, lifting him up off his feet and sending a dust cloud where his body landed. Before he had time to face his next target, he felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder as he spun and hit the ground.
As he was lifted to his feet, John looked down and saw an arrow imbedded into his shoulder. He lifted his head wearily to find himself face to face with the captain of the Legion. The captain shook his head as he pace in front of John.
"Lieutenant!" he shouted, and a soldier with armor decorated in red emerged from the crowd, "I believe that the punishment for resisting arrest is death. While I quickly dispose of this trash, take a few men and burn the house." John's heart sank as he heard these words.
"NO! PLEASE! SPARE THE BOY!" he cried, with tears streaming down his face, "I'M THE ONE YOU WANT, JUST LEAVE THE BOY OUT OF THIS!"
"I'm afraid you've given us no choice, Mr. Monroe," the Captain stated as his men tossed a rope over the nearest tree branch. The Lieutenant took his men and poured oil around the house. The men holding John drug him to the base of the tree and wrapped the noose around his neck. Tears continued to flood his eyes as he said a silent prayer to whatever god would hear him. They lifted him onto a box and tightened the rope as the Lieutenant lit the house on fire. Before too long, the house was lit into a blazing inferno. John took one more look at the house, knowing it would be his last, when he saw movement in the bedroom window.
Then, suddenly, the door burst open as a horse jumped out of the blaze, ridden by a man in a cloak carrying a bundle of blankets in his arm. Before the Legionnaires had time to react, he sped off, disappearing into the night. A smile emerged on John's face as he realized his son is alive and well. The Captain, furious at this loss, kicked the box out from under John's feet and strode away. John died a happy man, knowing Aaron was in good hands.
All i can ask is please R&R