With an air of enchantment around her that sang odes to her dazzling green eyes and the brilliant red hair, Shelly was fit to be a Princess. That is, first, if Monarchy was open to the Commonfolk of Cynthea. Second, if she dressed like a proper Lady of the House.

Casually plodding the street in her white tee and greasy jeans, her heavy black boots resounded the joy of victory in every step.

Blood was shed, some nasal bones were broken and justice had been delivered not more than a few minutes ago when she punched the neighbourhood bully, Grostie Boltman, a dumbass kid obsessed with bullying her friend Daisy.

Lost in the sweet moments of her victory, little did she notice the dull armour clad man who slid beside her in a little dragon.

"In the name of His Majesty, I command you to stop." The knight made it a point to be authoritative. Slightest fear and it's said these witches could suck the life out of you. (Using magic, of course.)

"What the-" Shelly started. She thought of running, but her legs failed. She tried to protest, but the words wouldn't come out of her rubbery tongue; the dragon freaked the hell out of her.

A pang of terror swept her as she was bodily lifted off the ground like a ragdoll. After putting her on the dragonback, she got giddly.

The terror soon faded into a blackout, with the swooshing of the wind ringing in her ears.

It was in the middle of a clearing in the forest the knight landed his dragonling. Shelly fell down with a ploppy thud and felt her regaining control over her senses.

As any feeble minded minotaur wrestler could've guessed it, the man in a dull armor was me, yes, Sir Jackson Kross. The action scene may appear to be slightly exaggerated, but I guarantee you that it's not. I'm more awesome than you think. Thank you very much.

"See, I am Sir Jackson Kross, Knight of The Flying Lion; and I am pleased to meet you, Miss. Sangsteiner." It was a majorly awkward start, the girl was young and at sixteen.

Very much out of my age group and too innocent looking was she, hence I decided to come clean rather than fumble with pickup lines.

"Okay, to be really blunt, I regret this task that I'm doing, but my orders are to kill you and bring a part of your liver to my Madame."

I shrugged. That went easier than I had anticipated.

But little did I have an idea of what was in store for me.