“And so that's how the story ends.”

  “Ahh, already?”

  Von cried out loud.

  “I wanna listen to it once more.”

  “Not today.”

  “Please?”

  He begged his mother, with adorable eyes comparable to that of a three week old kitten.

  “No. It's time for you to sleep.”

  His mother bluntly said, as she climbed out of his small wooden bed and fixed her dress. Then she walked to the window and opened it. Cold mountain breeze hit her face and blew her hair and the fire torch inside, as it entered the room.

  She then looked at the backyard, at the garden brightened by the full moon. Nothing was unusual. No thief. No movements at all except for the dancing petals of red Castilleja and pale blue Musk Larkspur.

  After a few moments of looking around, she closed the window.

  “Ma, can I become as good as that Rider in the story?”

  Von asked. His eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling, full of admiration and respect. His mind and soul wished that he could have the same adventure and glory as that character in the story.

  “You still aren't asleep?”

  His mother asked.

  “I wanna become like him, Ma.”

  “You won't be able to if you don't sleep early.”

  Von tucked himself with the blanket and made snoring sounds, in the fear of his mother's words coming true. On one hand, she giggled, due to her son's antics. Then she looked at him with a hint of pity and sadness. His body and face are still covered with a blanket.

  “Sleep well.”

  She said as she walked out of his room, then towards her own. A loud and familiar wail could be heard in the sky above, outside the house. It was drawing near. She looked out from the window and waved. It was her husband, Vun, riding on Orgeng, his darkish red wyvern with dark grey stripped underwing, returning from a hunt. He was a decade and a half older than her, a retired middle aged soldier without a noble background.

  Then, her eyes went to the silhouette in the front yard, of a young fellow with a sword in his right hand. His left hand behind, his sword hand swung at empty air and his feet shuffled and body weaved in a dancing manner.

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  “What are you doing outside in the middle of the night?”

  She shouted.

  “Uh, M-Ma.”

  It was her elder son, Orn.

  “Get back inside. You can do whatever you're doing right now during the day.”

  “I am guarding the house, you know-”

  “We have Orgeng for that. Your only job at night is to rest.”

  “Okay, Ma.”

  He sighed as he sheathed his sword and walked back into the house.

  “Wait.”

  She stopped him, when he walked past her.

  “You smell of sweat. Go take a bath.”

  “Ma, It's midnight!”

  Orn protested.

  “How are you going to become a wyvern rider if you are afraid of cold water?”

  She taunted him. Though it worked just fine. He dropped his sword in the living room and went out to their bathhouse right beside their house in the south.

  Wings flapping created a gushing wind as the wyvern prepared to land. Then a loud stomp that shook the earth when he did. Vun slid down from his back to the ground by his wing. He lowered his head, looking for a pat. Which Vun gave. Then spoke out in a deep voice.

  “I am leaving the meat tied on your back for tonight. Rest, but look out for the Stray Drakes. Today is a bright night so they may invade again.”

  Orgeng nodded and grunted in agreement. Then, Vun walked towards his house.

  —

  “Dear, how was your day?”

  His wife asked, sitting on the large bed with a blanket around her body. The fireplace lit the entire room.

  “It was fine.”

  He replied as he took off his shirt and climbed the bed.

  “Vun dear.”

  “Yes.”

  “I have been meaning to have a word with you.”

  She spoke.

  “About ?”

  “Your son.”

  “Orn or Von?”

  “Von.”

  He gives a heavy sigh and replies.

  “Ruhi, I am too tired for this right now.”

  "At least listen to me for once!”

  Ruhi shouted. Her husband, surprised, looked at her. She was angry.

  “Alright then, what about him?”

  He asked.

  “Why don't we let him be a wyvern rider too?”

  “...”

  “If Orn becomes a rider, Von would surely want to be one. Couldn't you put out a word for a newborn wyvern ?”

  He took a deep breath, then spoke with a soft deep voice.

  “Say Ruhi, how about I tell you a story?”

  “What's that got to do with him?”

  “Did I ever tell you that I had two step brothers ?”

  “... No.”

  “Me, Obo and Mans were young when we all decided to make a name for ourselves. In order to surprise one another, we all walked through different paths.

  Obo and I were already aiming to join the Sky battalion for the Kingdom. But Mans, he was different. He wanted to be an adventurer. But the law for our kingdom was that every wyvern rider must atleast serve for ten years as a part of Sky battalion no matter what, after graduating from Wyvern Riding school. We didn't know or choose not to believe in the fact that our king at the time used his troops to invade the neighbouring territories to expand his own.

  But Mans wanted no part in that, so he flew away from Haiyen Kingdom. I heard he became an adventurer, saving villages and towns by fighting off Pillagers, Beasts and Lotia and Mitia class Drakes and Wyverns. While me and Obo rose in the ranks at the Sky Battalion. All done through burning down innocents who were supposedly in the way of the Kingdom. I sometimes still hear the cries and wails of people while they burn when I close my eyes.

  One night I found Obo outside near a pond, drunk and wailing. ‘Tell me, Brother’, He asked me when I approached him. ‘Is this the glory we dreamed of?’. I couldn't even answer him. ‘I don't think I want this anymore’. He continued. ‘Unsheathe the sword. Hurry up, unsheathe the sword! End this.’

  I left him alone after that. Only to find him dead in the morning at the same place. His throat stabbed with his own dagger.

  Years later, I saw Mans again. He was on the other side of the Hori battle. I tried to reason with the commander to spare his life, after we defeated the other side. He refused. So, I opened his cell lock and helped him and his wyvern Mogo escape. The commander forgave me for that.

  Then a few months later, I heard that he got executed by the Gasim Kingdom for reasons unknown.”

  “...”

  Ruhi did not know what to say. But Vun continued.

  “Most of us die young, Ruhi. Only ten among fifty wyvern riders live up to old age. I don't want my children to live a dangerous life. The only reason why I am even allowing Orn to become one is because King Boraj is not a warmonger like his father was.”

  “Then isn't it fine for Von too?”

  “You don't understand. King Boraj might not be a warmonger. But I can't say the same for our neighbours. They still have animosity toward this kingdom due to the previous King. Who knows when they might wage war against us once more.”

  Then Vun yawned and laid down on the bed.

  “I am tired, Ruhi. If you wanna talk about something we will talk tomorrow.”

  Ruhi remained seated for a bit longer.

  “What happened? Not sleepy?”

  Her husband asked. Then she laid down too, pulled the blanket covering herself and Vun from the cold, put her head on his arm and hugged him.

  “I once saw a kid who also dreamed of becoming something. But his parents wanted something different for him. Yet he still pursued. But because he had no one to hold onto he couldn't reach it. Years later, out of frustration he became a drunkard who picked a fight with anyone then got stabbed while walking home.”

  Tears rolled down from Ruhi’s eyes as she was speaking.

  “I don't want my son to end up like my little brother either.”

  She cried as she hugged Vun tighter. Vun in return patted her head. He tried to think of a word to stop her from crying but couldn't due to exhaustion.

  The night passed.