Epilouge
There was a child.
A boy, with scraggly dark hair and pointed ears. His almond-shaped blue eyes would sparkle with laughter and vast intelligence one his age would normally never have. Graceful as the summer breeze and just as warm, his laugh was contagious and sent shivers of warmth to those around him.
He could run with wolves. He could speak with dragons.
In a secluded clearing where none would ever find him save the pups, the child romped with the wolves and hissed in strange a language few knew and understood. He had seen the world the way only a dovah could, perched on the back of a glittering ruby and black serpent and had roared along with him. His silvery-blue eyes' pupils were slitted and would flash with menace should you provoke him.
A young boy. A young hero.
A legend.
It's short. I know. Painfully so. But here marks the end of my first completed, published work, Nightmares of the Beast. Thanks a million to all you out there who have enjoyed and read this; I'm so grateful for everything you've said and done.