Davion sighed in relief, recognizing the familiar traces of the Eldwurm.
For eight years he had been pursuing his prey, the legendary dragon Slyrak. Davion had begun his search at the age of sixteen, leaving behind his friends in the Knight's Academy, with nothing to guide him other than the tales of old and his instincts. From the fiery lands of Pyrion, to the frigid Pagetus Mountains, Slyrak was no where to be seen, and yet Davion never gave up. Hearing rumors of a dragon roaming the haunted island Umbrae, where no man had dared to set foot on before, Davion bought a small ship with what money he had left and sailed across the Great Sea to his destination.
Umbrae meant "Shadows" in the Language of the Ancients, and the island was aptly named. Though not as cold as Pagetus, the sun's rays could not penetrate the mists of Umbrae, and a ghastly chill haunted Davion from his first step on the island. Immediately, Davion regretted his choice; dragons, especially Eldwurms, were creatures of light; he could not imagine what would bring any dragon to this desolated place. But when he caught sight of a claw print larger than his entire ship, he knew he had come to the right place.
That was sixteen days ago. Davion had followed the traces of Slyrak without delay, resting whenever light graced the dark mist of the island. He meant to slay the dragon in its sleep, and avoiding direct combat if possible. Davion was skilled, but he still wasn't sure he could face Slyrak at day and survive the battle. After all, he had only slain five or six dragons in his lifetime, and the dragonslayer that was eaten by Slyrak in the tales had slain at least thirty.