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Xavier Godwin sat patiently waiting, thinking of his mother. Very few could read his stonelike and expressionless
face as he sat, pending his father’s return.
His village was much like others. Houses were long-distance apart, connected by the few crumbling cobblestone roads. His town had been tormented for millennia by the dragon of the west that lived near the peak of Sconvolta Mountain. His father was the head of the DragonHunter army which held dominion over their village. Xavier’s dad was a tough man, yet he had his soft spots. But while the young boy was pondering over his father’s homecoming, the ear-piercing sound of the town siren penetrated the soft tranquility of his home. It had been going for many minutes now, and he knew his father was fighting everlastingly against the dragon.
Xavier looked up from the ground, perturbed at sight of his father’s silhouette at the front door. The mans’ face reflected Xavier’s expression as he made his way to the bench. He had a small stream of blood trickling down his arm, and yet another cut on his forehead. His eyes were emotionless, his face exhausted.
“Xavier Ludovic Godwin,” he said, kneeling down on one knee. He let out a grunt in doing so.
“You have your grandfather’s name, you will carry down our next generation much as I did ours. Half of our army is dead, and the other will follow suit. If I am to fall, you must carry the responsibility to avenge us all.” He pulled a long sword from its scabbard with a single ruby encrusted in the handle. It glinted in the fire that the dragon had spewed over the village.
“This is Xavier the Great’s sword, handle it with care my son. You shall lead our nation well.” On that note his father rose from his kneeling position and walked back to the door pulling his own sword out of its cover and facing the crimson light, shouting a battle cry he disappeared into the night.
Xavier rose from the bench at once and ran to the door watching his father.
An enormous and extensive scaly foot took a step to his father. Another fearless battle cry filled the air. A vivid burst of light lit the whole room. A shriek of anguish and pain filled the world around him, it seemed to echo in his ears.
“Father!” he shouted into the night. The bright light from the outside temporarily blinded him, but he let his other senses explore the predicament of the night. The fresh smell of blood filled his nostrils as his eyesight returned to him.
He stared at the corpse and anger overthrew him. As he watched the foot retreat from the body he heard the hum of the dragon’s wings as it took off.
Without hesitation, he ran out the door and towards the lifeless body. He had lost his mother to dragons when he was young. He couldn’t live with this. No, wouldn’t.
Kneeling to the body he picked up his sheath which was left remarkably untouched and fastened the belt around his waist.
Following the faint sound of the beating of dragon wings, He began his trek up Mount Sconvolta following the dragon’s path.
His legs ached. His head pounded. His ankles were bloodied and scratched, but his pace never faltered, he never took on step out of line. After many tumultuous hours, he reached a cave.
It was a beautiful sight, gold, silver, and jewels of all kinds lining the walls. He could make out rubies that reflected his own on the sword. He was dazzled, awestruck, whatever one must say to describe his wide eyes. But his delight was cut short as a hot puff of breath hit the back of his neck.
In the blink of an eye, the boy was turned around with his sword drawn, ready for battle
Shivers went up to his spine.
Facing the dragon he realized for the first time the immense and comprehensive size of his enemy.
Scales ran up its scabrous spine. Gold tinted plates ran down its body giving it a majestic and proud look. Its dignified and immaculate appearance struck him dumb with awe as he stared into the beast’s scarlet and ruby eyes that pierced his soul as it looked downward at his gaunt and angular body.
Xavier let out a battle cry that sounded much like his father’s and charged towards the beasts’ foot. The creature thought nothing of the small human’s attempts of a battle.
Xavier thrust his sword through the dragon’s foot and it let out a deafening howl. Rising up into the cave the dragon let fire spew from its mouth leaving a ring surrounding Xavier. The boy completely ignored it, and with yet another hollar, he threw his sword into the air at the reptilian beast.
It penetrated the dragon’s left shoulder with ease, and the ground quaked as the thousand-ton body hit the floor. But within seconds, the dragon was back onto its feet.
The sword fell from the shoulder and to the ground. The dragon flew up again and left Xavier in the ring of fire that the creature had created around him. Xavier took his sword and swished it in the fire surrounding him leaving a temporary minuscule escape without getting burnt.
As the dragon was about to fully exit the cave, the boy ran with great momentum and leaped onto the swinging tail of the dragon. He clutched its bronze plates and began to meagerly make his way up to its back.
Down the mountain, towards the town, the two flew. They were now circling above the village. The dragon roared furiously, wanting to shake its attacker yet failing ever-so. But Xavier was too determined to not give up, so he stood up, and with all his might, he slammed his blade into the wing ligament.
They were tumbling, down, down, the ground getting close every second. At the last moment, Xavier jumped onto a nearby tree, whereas the dragon fell on top of a house, laying in a crumpled heap.
The writhing mass of gold and silver rose up to his full height. Heaving Xavier picked his bloodied sword up from the dirt and looked at the dragon. By this time, a crowd of villagers had arrived to watch the battle.
The dragon roared and blasted fire all around the boy, but he dodged. He then drove his sword into the toe, and the beast roared in pain and fury. Quickly, Xavier gripped his sword and jumped away. The eyes of the animal were burning with infinite rage and exasperation, and it seemed to be radiating hate.
A young man from the village threw a small kunai to Xavier, who caught it and with all his might, hurled it right at the dragon’s eye. All his accuracy practice finally paid off.
The wyvern threw itself to the ground, spasming in pain as a silvery-black liquid began to pour out from all its scales. Xavier merely stood and watched, as his foe, the murderer of his parents, the killer of his friends, and the destroyer of his life began to die.
“DragonHunter!” It hissed, and with one last shuddering breath, the dragon was dead.
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