It was Fennyr's first fight. However, his father had given tips and lessons on how to fight. In fact, it was all he could talk about. Fennyr never thought his father's ramblings on would be of any use. But as Dulkrn flew through the air towards him, he heard Sulfer's voice in his head. "Dodge, Fennyr, dodge!"

At the last second, Fennyr raced to the right, out of the way of the attack. Dulkrn landed snout-first on the stone floor. The crowd roared with approval. The scarlet dragon laid spread-eagled on the floor for a few moments before raising his head and scowling at Fennyr. A steady stream of blood was seeping out of one nostril.

Dulkrn leaped at Fennyr again. Guided by his father's voice in his head, Fennyr rolled then sliced at Dulkrn's exposed underbelly. The wound wasn't deep enough to cause any damage, but Dulkrn howled in pain.

The battle continued this way for a while with Dulkrn attacking and Fennyr mostly dodging and counterattacking. Eventually, Dulkrn began to gain ground, despite of Fennyr's good start. Dulkrn was larger than Fennyr and had more fighting experience, and he was soon winning. 

Despite of the size difference, both fighters were panting and leaking blood on the arena floor. Fennyr's scratch on his snout had reopened and was now bleeding. A wound on his back leg was forcing him to limp. Dulkrn wasn't much better. The tip of his snout was badly bruised from his collision with the floor and his underbelly was spilling blood.

Fennyr locked eyes with Dulkrn."Five minutes?" He asked.  

Dulkrn blinked in surprise. "You tired already, shrimp? Fine." He snarled, his eyes filled with venom. They retreated to their own half of the arena, the crowd booing.

"Water." Fennyr croaked. A medic handed him a canteen. Greedily, Fennyr gulped it down. The water had turned warm in the mid-day sun, but it felt inviting to his parched throat. The rest of the medics helped to stop the bleeding of his leg and other various wounds.

BLARRRP!!! A bugle sounded, signaling the end of the break. The crowd was roaring. Fennyr felt refreshed after his break. Unfortunately, it looked like Dulkrn had also benefited from the time out. He wasn't panting so hard and his wounds were bleeding less heavily. He seemed restored to his former strength and he was grinning smugly. Fennyr assumed the attack position; ears folded and back, scales raised along his spine, a snarl on his face and ready to pounce.

But however fierce he looked on the outside, on the inside he didn't want to fight. Maybe his father saw some hidden warrior in him, but that wasn't who Fennyr really was.

"Go for the eyes! Use your fire! Don't let him see your fear!" said Sulfur in Fennyr's head. But to Fennyr's amazement, he heard the voice in his ears, not in his imagination. He looked and saw something shocking. His father was to his claws, cheering for him.

For the first time in years, Sulfur was proud of his son. Fennyr felt a warm feeling fill him from his heart to the tips of his wings. He looked around in awe. Although many were cheering for Dulkrn because he was so big and strong, many more were cheering for Fennyr. He heard whispers from the adult about his skill. "Did you see that dodge." ... "He fights like a true warrior." ... "Isn't that Sulfer's son?" ... "He taught his son well."

Despite the pain he felt, Fennyr beamed. In twenty-four hours, he had gone from being bullied to being cheered on by most of the tribe. The crowd started to chant. "Fennyr, Fennyr, Fennyr!!!"

Was this his destiny? To follow in his father's footsteps and win the Gladnar trails? The cheers convinced him that it must be so. He was so proud of his decision that he didn't notice Dulkrn slowly curling his tail close to his body.

CRACK!! A sound like thunder rolled across the arena. Simultaneously, Fennyr felt an excruciating pain across his face. He felt his head snap to the left. The crowd gasped in dismay as Fennyr collapsed. Dulkrn had used his tail as a whip and slashed Fennyr in the face.

Everything went dark for a second, then red as Fennyr grew angry. How dare this wretch whip him? He was Fennyr, son of Sulfur, Champion of the Gladnar. He rose to his feet eyes alight with fury. He leapt at Dulkrn, roaring. The smugness in Dulkrn's eyes was replaced by surprise than a hint of fear. Fennyr relished the dread in Dulkrn's eyes.

Fennyr landed on top of Dulkrn and the fight continued. The first half of the fight, Dulkrn was the one who was really attacking and Fennyr was only dodging and counterattacking. But Fennyr had been swept away by the chanting, and the excitement of having his father cheering, and perhaps even his hatred of Dulkrn. Now he was fighting fiercer than ever.

They rolled around the arena clawing and yowling like feral cats as the crowd roared. Fennyr was deep in the battle rage; sinking, sinking, closer and closer to the point of no return.

Do not feel badly towards Fennyr, dear Reader. Many a man or dragon wanting peace have succumbed to the blood rage over the centuries.

He could feel every claw as they tore at him, every tongue of flame as it scorched him, and every scale that Dulkrn violently tore out of Fennyr's back with his teeth. The pain didn't faze him; it only made his fury stronger.

They rolled and slashed and roared with pain, the battle getting fiercer and louder until it stopped suddenly. The congregation was at the edge of their seats. The dust cleared. The crowd roared.

Fennyr was of top of Dulkrn pinning down his forearms just as Pyria pinned him down not two hours earlier. Only this time, he held one talon up to Dulkrn's neck. There was a pause.

"Go on wimp. Finish the job." Dulkrn said with contempt.

"I'm not going to kill you Dulkrn." Fennyr replied. "Submit and we both walk away."

Dulkrn tried to chuckle through the claw at his neck. "I'd rather die in battle than live defeated by the likes of you." He struggled to get up but Fennyr held him tight. "What are you waiting for? Make your father proud."

These comments only enraged Fennyr further and he tensed, ready to thrust his talon into Dulkrn's throat. He prepared for the final blow.

Then he stopped.

In those sickly yellow eyes, he saw something.

It was his own reflection.

Oh by the talons of Vrynlan, he looked terrifying.

The sight of himself in his opponent's eyes, the opponent he was about to kill, evaporated his rage like morning dew. He looked up at the crowd. They were frozen on the edge of their seats probably wondering why there wasn't a victor yet.

He looked at his father knowing that he would never earn his pride again. His heart felt like lead in his chest.

He turned to his left. And what he saw only sealed his belief that this was wrong.

There was a group of dragons standing just outside the arena. They were the dragonlings soon to be banished. He saw Azul and her twin brother Coal standing together. Tears were falling from her cheeks onto the cracked ground. She looked depressed but not really surprised. Coal looked about ready to cry too, but he held the tears back and tried to look tough.

Next to them was Pyria. She had a claw on Azul's shoulder as if trying to comfort her friend but her wings were drooping with sadness. The sight of her disappointed face tore Fennyr's heart in two.

Even though the trials weren't even halfway over, the group consisted of about eight or nine dragonlings all smaller than Fennyr. Some looked angry, some looked shell shocked, and others were saying tearful goodbyes to friends and loved ones.

They would be allowed to take a week's worth of food and water and one personal item, as if that would make up for it all, before being banished from Renzr forever. The rest of the citizens would be forbidden to help them, so their only hope was to make it to another village. However, the nearest village was hundreds of miles away, and the chance of making it with that little food was near impossible.

For years, Fennyr thought this was right. Every year, he was one of the ones cheering with every blow. Now that he looked back into the past, he remembered when he was only five, a dragon in the arena had bled to death right in front of him. After the trials, he had talked to his father.

"Why did nobody help him?" he had asked, his big brown eyes full of concern.

His father had knelt down. "Because he didn't deserve help. In this world, you must help yourself."

Fennyr knew in his heart of hearts, this was wrong. Slowly, he let go of Dulkrn's neck. He stood up and faced the crowd. He inhaled deeply and spoke the last phrase the tribe expected to hear.

"I submit."

The proclamation of rebellion ricocheted around the arena until the echo was lost in stunned silence.