There was something different in the air.

The dragon stilled, large green eyes flicking this way and that. It listened closely. Yes, voices. Footsteps, even. It growled. Visitors were uncommon. The last time a human had dared step foot into its domain had been four hundred years prior. The dragon was sure the unfortunate man's bones were still lying somewhere nearby, slowly eroding.

These footsteps hadn't stopped. There appeared to be more than one. Still nothing the grand creature could not take care of. Humans, it had learned, were fragile. So terribly easy to break their bones, but disappointingly hard to break their spirits. By the sound of it, these young souls were full of determination.

It heard them enter, but could not spot where they had entered from. Instead, it relied on its sense of smell, seeking them out. It slowly stalked towards a specific corner. It thought it heard breath become caught in someone's throat. Intriguing.

Was that a boot poking out? The dragon let out a guttural growl once more, lunging forward. With a loud bang, it rammed its tough head into the pillar in which the human was hiding behind. Debris cascaded down from the ceiling, but the pillar nor the temple fell, for it was built to withstand the winged creature's might.

It merely hooked its claws around the pillar, seeking the small, plush form of a human body.

Ah, there it was, but it was on the move. This human was not even a full grown man yet. This was a blond boy with quick feet and a chest full of fear. The dragon could smell the boy's fear, it was so strong. It began pursuit, slashing at the small form, but he simply kept weaving in and out and dodging left and right by pure chance. Or perhaps it was adrenaline. The dragon was getting frustrated. No prey should ever be this fast, especially a human. Humans were meant to be slow, thoughtful creatures. Most were lazy and uncreative, but this boy was none of that. He was practically wind itself, twisting this way and that and extraordinarily crafty.

Enough was enough, in that case, the dragon thought.

Being a Forester dragon, it almost never used fire. Fire was the very destroyer of nature, killing anything it touched. However, at the same time, the forest fire was precisely the thing that renewed the earth again, that brought healing and order.

Unfortunately, for the boy, fire was incredibly hard to dodge.

The dragon threw back its head, summoning a raging fire within its chest, one that had been built up for seven hundred years, one that could burn through the toughest material with pure passionate anger and sorrow alone.

"Lynvok!"

The dragon paused. Lynvok. Yes, that was the dragon's name. One that it had almost forgotten itself. Its name was Lynvok.

Lynvok slowly twisted around its neck to find its second target. The blond haired boy was crumpled on the ground, heaving sharp breaths and staring wide eyed at the grand creature looming above him.

Upon first glance, Lynvok knew who this new boy was. Or rather, what he was.

He was a Trunswick.

Everard's eyes pierced into his own through the glossy eyes of a young boy. But instead of the smugness and cleverness that was constantly present in Everard's, this boy's eyes were full of a mixture of fear, wonder, and recognition.

This boy matched his own sorrow, Lynvok thought. He was sad for a dragon.

"You're the dragon from the old story," the boy said shakily, "the dragon that outlasted them all. The dragon they couldn't kill."

Lynvok narrowed its eyes.

"My ancestors wronged you, Lynvok." The dragon was surprised to hear what sounded like anger in his voice. "But I won't, nor will my friend. My name is Devin Trunswick, and that over there is Conor."

Devin Trunswick. Lynvok made a mental note. He was obviously of the newest generation of Trunswicks. So far, the dragon was impressed. Not only by the pure courage it took to face a dragon, but the ability to understand them as well.

"I only ask one thing of you," Devin went on. "If you plan to set Trunswick up in flames, then think it through once more. I know better than most what it feels like to do something you'll regret so soon."

The dragon went very still. Lynvok had no such idea. Everard Trunswick was its nemesis, but the town had not directly tried to harm it. The town was relatively peaceful.

Then the truth dawned on it.

Lynvok threw back its head, but not to spit flames. Instead, it let out one long, mournful roar of sorrow. Sorrow for what his past friend had chosen to do.

When Lynvok looked back at the boys, eyes heavy with sadness, they were still recovering from such a noisy sound. Then, it spread its wings out, making an inviting gesture first to Devin, then to Conor. Very reluctantly, they shared a glance before climbing on. They both yelped as they slid onto the dragon's scaly back.

Then, starting at a run, Lynvok darted out of the temple that had contained it for so long, unraveling its great, grey-ish green wings once more and taking off into the sky. "What about Heron and Balios?" it heard Devin yelp.

Lynvok assumed those were the two horses that were currently whinnying beneath them. Frankly, it did not care for the lives of those two animals, even if its boys loved them. There were more pressing matters to attend to--its final duty to the world, to save the town that had never once belonged to it.

Setting its course south bound, Lynvok flew with all the speed and steadiness it had learned in its centuries of being alive, every now and then checking to make sure its passengers were still breathing. The Trunswick boy seemed to be in his glory, but the adventurer was looking quite pale.

That was usually how it went, anyways.