Ahh, the tea is especially rich this time. I would even say that it might be my best brew yet!

Now, now… You two had best not be sleeping already? The traveler here has only just arrived.

Come, huddle around the fire, if you must.

Prologue 2

From the ancient spring atop the mountainous cavern gushed water to the cave's interior, crashing onto the depressions of the cavern in the form of a waterfall. Through erosion and its own combined force, the water carved a path for it to go, making the river from which the nearby denizens of the wild may drink from. Some of the water strayed from landing on the river, however, and made their home on the stalactites near the falls that gushed on without these few drops. Even so, these few droplets cannot escape their fate in falling down like the rest. Their descent and impact on the hard ground made a rhythmic pattern. All is the same as ever, in this world.

The clink of precious metal and other treasures in the chamber right beside the falling water resonated loudly, all of a sudden, as its burly owner shifted uncomfortably on top of it. Many things swirled within this old legend's mind: some of its thoughts focused on its sickness and age; a mite of these its next meal; and the remaining half on nostalgia.

This nostalgia was not merely of one being able to have the energy and mindset of its younger self, but it is a form of nostalgia that brings raids of epic proportions, duels and wars with those that dared to challenge, and many other glorious things to mind, but those days are over, now, and this proud old warrior spends what little time he has left, laying on some of his legacy, using it as bedding. In particularly boring days like these, he would fantasize of an event where another soul like him were to do him a favor and honor him with one last fight. Even though he may have lost the same passion for burning down castles, he couldn't bear the thought of having to deal with dying a cowardly death, but a wizened, old, and sickly dragon like this could only dream, for he hardly has the strength to do much besides trouble the nearby village for some of their delicious cattle, let alone seek out an opponent to honor this wish.

The grand, old reptile breathes out a low, but loud sigh, which echoed a great many times in his old abode. Then, a familiar scent hits his nostrils, one he has not been acquainted with for a while. Perhaps wishes do come true after all, don't they, traveler…?

As the knight approached the target's den at the end of the woods, his mule became somewhat agitated. The knight noticed this, and immediately recognized the cause for such behavior: the eldwyrm was inside. The hunter felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. He kept his mule from going any further, and loosened the constraints on the shield his companion carried.

The man in plate took up his shining shield and broad blade and set foot within the cave, ready to end his hunt. The faint squeals of bats and few other critters rang out and found his ears, heard repetitively to all by the acoustics of the grand cave. As he meandered within the cavern, he keeps up a dedicated vigil, ready to react at a moment's notice to any sudden movements or noise. A loud groan from a great beast is heard, and the knight tensed up, but kept his composure and looked around, but found nothing. The sound was somewhat more faint than it should be, the knight noted. Perhaps the source was further to the end of the cave?

The hunter tread carefully towards the origin, and traversed through the stalagmites that litter the location, encountering a familiar river. On a hunch, the knight followed the stream upwards on its left bank, where further on ahead he could hear the cascading falls crashing only softly onto the ground from where he was. The footing on the narrow path around around the streaming body of water was poor, but years spent in plate have given the knight a fine balance and coordination, even in these conditions for as long as a little care was given.

Eventually, the winding river led him to the falls in all its beautiful and rather loud resplendence. A few pieces of brilliant, golden mint laid near the left of it, on the same bank he tread upon. He went to the wall's edge and peaked his covered visage slowly and slightly around the corner to where the rest of the gold most likely resided, steadily revealing a large room with a scaled beast in it, staring straight into his soul.

"Damn!" the knight exclaims, as he backed his head out of the dragon's den.

"Hold!" the old dragon bellows in a show of bravado. "I mean you no harm."

The knight, no longer looking at the beast, had pushed his back against the wall so the dragon doesn't transfigure him to what would be used as charcoal to any passerby that would stumble across his remains.

"And for what reason should I trust that which has killed many of my comrades before me?" The knight demands bitterly, screaming to make his voice heard over the falling water.

"If I had been able to kill you, I would have done so by now, as you have not done much of a fine job in masking your scent." The dragon retorted at his rookie mistake.

The hunter clenched his fists tightly around his weapons, forgetting something so simple that – as the eldwyrm pointed out – would have gotten him killed. But then he remembered what he just said.

"What now, then, Slyrak?" the knight said. "If you aren't going to kill me, what is it you want?"

"Well, first of all...Your name, mortal. Surely you have one, do you not?" the dragon said.

The falls next to the two flowed on for what felt like hours to Slyrak as he wondered if the young knight slipped away under the cover the cascading water's din. He almost sighed in defeat until...

"Davion," the knight said, "of the Scaled Knights of Uthorian."

"Very well, Sir Davion" the dragon mumbles, "I have another request for you."

"What is it, you fiend?"

"I am nothing but a shell of what I once was. Ages have passed by, and I have become careless of my condition." The old wyrm says, his tone a complete opposite of what it once was just a moment ago, "I beg of you, honor this old soul with one, final duel..."

Another moment of silence. The wyrm had only hoped that his plea didn't seem too obvious. He didn't want make a mockery of himself, and seeing his achievements from times past, he had a lot more to lose than any most others.

Again, the knight did not respond. Once again, Slyrak had hoped that he didn't go then and there, this time with his pathetic confession as his trophy. However, the man around the corner was scrupled with some troubling thoughts. On one hand, the prey he had hunted for years is right there, a few feet away, anticipating a clash. On the other, dragon murder.

Slyrak felt that the knight was crueler than he had hoped, leaving him to die like this, but after seeing the young man in plated armor enter his den, all doubts were quelled.

The hunter was met with a clearer view of his prey, and found himself disappointed, as his eyes saw a frail, overgrown reptile with dull fangs, damaged wings, and rotten scales. A sense of remorse washed over him as he looked into Slyrak's face. Sadly enough for this man, the dragon reminded him of his hound, suffering from age like this old soul. He remembered the day he had to put his old friend down to end his suffering. Now, it seems the situation he's in is no different.

The knight readied himself, and the dragon in front of him stepped forward gently, honorably accepting his immediate death. With another drop of water from above hitting the ground, the knight charged.

The wyrm swung his left claw downwards at him, and the knight deftly stepped aside from the attack. The dragon jumped back to stay out of reach of a counter, and scattering the gold he has amassed all around them in a dizzying spectacle. The hunter still ran towards the target, with the bulwark in front of him easily blocking another of the misfortune dragon's attempts at his savior. The knight retaliated with a swipe of his own, drawing blood from the ancient wyrm's breast. The beast roared in pain, and the knight faltered a bit from the fierce sound of it. The creature struck again, his upward strike with his tail meeting a shield, sending the owner flying back into a small pile gold and trinkets. Slyrak bellowed a fierce roar, spitting out a small gout of flame with it. The cavern's stalactites quivered from the sound, and fell upon them all. The beast repelled most of the rocks away with his tattered wings, and the disoriented knight hid under his shield. Davion quickly rose from his spot and charged at his foe once more, ensuring the dragon deals him no harm while he does so. After the dragon missed his final strike, the young knight slashed his sharp sword into the wound he had made before, forming a bloody X, which bled profusely all over the beast's chest and his talons, no doubt tiring him with every move he makes. The beast gave yet another cry of pain before stumbling clumsily back and falling. The knight climbed atop the belly of his fallen, exhausted foe, breathing heavily and still emotionally disturbed by the situation. He gazed at the writhing wyrm, before finally deciding to sink his sword in his prey's damaged breast.

As the blade went through Slyrak's chest, a talon drove into the knight's throat. The crimson liquids of the two conjoined in a forgotten ritual of gory matrimony. The hunter was certainly not pleased. As he choked from having his neck ruptured, he began to lose his senses.

"I will not forget what you have done for me...Sir Knight..." The dragon sputtered. Davion was not too certain, but the dragon almost seemed to glow, but that could have been just his panicked mind playing one final trick on him. "The least that can be done...Is to grant you my power..."

The wyrm retracted his claw, and all was silent.

A.A.N

Really proud of this chapter. Once again, a symbolic meaning. This time in the water. It represents Slyrak's life and backstory (which I will get to much later.)

In my headcanon, Slyrak is not what he seems. He's more than just a dragon. He and Davion share more than a similar personality that favor things like honor and glory above all.

Don't worry, it'll all make sense later...