The conversation with his mother hadn’t been easy.
Noah sat at the wooden table in their small ho, the remains of breakfast scattered between them while Gertrude played outside in the morning sun. His mother’s hands were folded in her lap, her expression carrying that particular kind of worry that only parents seed capable of producing.
"Dragon knights," she said quietly, testing the words like they might break in her mouth. "My son, training to beco a dragon knight."
"It’s an opportunity," Noah replied, keeping his voice gentle. "A real chance to make sothing of myself. To prove that I’m not just..."
He trailed off, but they both knew what he ant. Not just the coward’s son. Not just the boy everyone had written off before he’d even had a chance.
His mother reached across the table and took his hand, her fingers rough from years of laundry work at the castle.
"I know what this ans to you, Burt. I know how hard it’s been, carrying your father’s sha. And I’m proud of you. So proud that you survived that dragon, that you’ve shown everyone what I’ve always known. That you’re brave, and strong, and capable of amazing things."
She paused, her grip tightening slightly.
"But dragon knights die, Burt. They die fighting monsters that regular soldiers won’t even approach. I’ve already lost your father. I don’t know if I can bear losing you too."
Noah felt sothing twist in his chest. Because this woman wasn’t really his mother. Burt wasn’t really him. But sitting here, seeing the genuine fear and love in her eyes, it felt real in ways that made everything complicated.
’They’re good people,’ Noah thought, looking at her worn face, the lines around her eyes that ca from years of worry and hard work. ’She reminds of Mrs. Harper. The way she cares, the way she tries so hard despite everything being stacked against her.’
The thought of Mrs. Harper brought a pang of guilt. When he got back to his tiline, whenever that happened, he needed to visit her. She still worked as a cleaner at the academy despite Noah’s repeated attempts to set her up with permanent retirent. The woman was stubborn, insisting she needed to stay useful, that sitting around doing nothing would kill her faster than any amount of work.
He’d go see her. Bring her a gift. Maybe finally convince her to accept help.
But that was for later. Right now, he had a different mother figure to reassure.
"I’ll be careful," Noah said, squeezing her hand. "I promise. And this training, it’ll make safer, not less safe. I’ll learn how to fight properly, how to survive encounters with beasts. I won’t be stumbling through luck anymore."
His mother studied his face for a long mont, searching for sothing. Finally, she nodded.
"Then you have my blessing," she said, her voice steady despite the fear he could see in her eyes. "But you co back to us, Burt. You hear ? You co back."
"I will."
They sat there for a while longer, just holding hands across the table while morning light filtered through the window and Gertrude’s laughter drifted in from outside.
***
The dragon knights had co to the tavern earlier that day, all six of them piling through the door like they owned the place. Master Grayson had practically fallen over himself serving them, his earlier contempt for Noah completely forgotten in favor of the profitable association.
Roland had clapped Noah on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble.
"So, boy, have you thought about our offer?"
Noah had looked at them, at their expectant faces, at the genuine hope that he’d say yes.
"I accept," he’d said simply.
The tavern had erupted in cheers. Custors who’d been eavesdropping joined in, buying rounds for everyone, congratulating Noah like he’d just won so kind of prize. Marcus had actually hugged him, lifting him off his feet despite Noah being taller.
"Excellent!" Roland had declared, his voice carrying over the noise. "et us at our usual spot after your shift ends. We’ll finalize everything, explain what cos next."
And now, as the sun began setting and Noah wiped down the last table of the day, he felt a knot of anticipation building in his stomach.
Master Grayson appeared from the back room, counting coins with the kind of focus that suggested he’d forgotten Noah existed.
"You’re done for today," Grayson said without looking up. "Go on. Your dragon knight friends are waiting."
Noah removed his apron, hung it on the hook by the kitchen, and stepped out into the evening air.
The Red Lantern District was already coming alive, music drifting from open windows, laughter echoing between buildings. Noah found the establishnt where they’d celebrated before, pushed through the door, and spotted the knights imdiately.
They’d claid a corner table, drinks already in hand, deep in conversation that stopped the mont they saw him.
"There he is!" Marcus called out. "Our newest recruit!"
Noah approached and took the offered seat. Egor sat at the head of the table, silent as usual, his eyes tracking Noah’s movent with that sa unreadable expression.
"So," Roland began, setting his drink down with deliberate care, "becoming a dragon knight isn’t just about accepting an offer and showing up. There’s training involved. Real training, not just swinging swords at practice dummies."
"How long?" Noah asked.
"Depends on the recruit," Davos replied. "So take six months. Others take two years. It’s not about ti, it’s about proving you can survive what we face."
"And where?"
"A training camp," Brom said. "About eight hours ride north. You’ll leave tomorrow morning, train with other recruits, learn everything from basic combat to dragon behavior to tactical formations."
Marcus leaned forward, his expression more serious than Noah had seen it. "I’m not going to lie to you, Burt. The training is brutal. People wash out. So get injured badly enough they can’t continue. A few have died over the years, though the instructors try to prevent that."
"But if you make it through," Roland continued, "you’ll be one of us. A dragon knight. Respected, well-paid, part of sothing that actually matters."
Noah absorbed this, thinking through the implications. Training ant ti away from tracking down whatever "Extinguish the Flas" actually referred to. But it also ant getting closer to these people, to understanding this tiline, to potentially uncovering whatever caused the kingdom’s eventual destruction.
’No halfway markers,’ Noah thought, rembering the quest notification. ’No indication if I’m going the right direction. Just trust that this path leads sowhere useful.’
"We need to tell your mother," Egor said, speaking for the first ti. His voice carried authority that made everyone else go quiet. "She deserves to know what her son is committing to."
They finished their drinks and left together, seven figures moving through evening streets toward the hill where Noah’s house sat. The walk took maybe twenty minutes, conversation dying as they climbed the path.
His mother was outside when they arrived, hanging laundry that caught the last of the day’s light. She saw them approaching and her expression shifted from curiosity to understanding to resigned acceptance.
"Mrs. Aldric," Roland said formally, executing a small bow. "Your son has accepted our offer to train as a dragon knight. We wanted to inform you personally and answer any questions you might have."
She looked at Noah, then at the knights, then back at Noah.
"When does he leave?"
"Tomorrow morning," Egor replied. "We’ll collect him at dawn."
"And how long?"
"That depends on his progress. Could be months. Could be longer."
She nodded slowly, her hands clasped in front of her like she was physically holding herself together.
"He’ll be ready," she said quietly. "Thank you for this opportunity. For seeing past..."
She didn’t finish, but everyone knew what she ant.
The knights departed with promises to return at first light, leaving Noah alone with his mother in the fading evening.
***
Dinner was quiet. Gertrude sensed sothing was different, her usual chatter subdued while she picked at her food. His mother ate chanically, her mind clearly elsewhere.
Finally, after the dishes were cleared, Noah told Gertrude what was happening.
"I’m going away for training," he said, crouching down to her level. "To beco a dragon knight like the n who were here earlier."
Her eyes went wide. "You’re leaving?"
"Just for a while. I’ll co back, I promise."
"But who’s going to help fetch water? Who’s going to tell stories before bed?"
Noah felt his throat tighten. This little girl, with her pigtails and boundless energy, who’d woken him up every morning with such enthusiasm.
"Mother will help you," he said gently. "And when I co back, I’ll have new stories to tell. Better ones."
Gertrude threw her arms around his neck, her small body shaking slightly. Noah hugged her back, surprised by the emotion welling up in his chest.
’She’s not really my sister,’ he thought. ’This isn’t really my life. But it feels real. She feels real.’
Eventually, his mother ushered Gertrude to bed, tucking her in with soft words Noah couldn’t quite hear from the main room. When she returned, she sat across from him at the table.
"I’m scared," she admitted quietly. "I know I said I was proud, and I am. But I’m terrified, Burt. Of losing you like I lost your father."
"You won’t lose ," Noah said with more confidence than he felt.
"Promise sothing," she continued, reaching across to take his hand again. "Promise you’ll be smart. Not just brave. Bravery without wisdom is just another way to die young."
"I promise."
She squeezed his hand once, then stood.
"Get so rest. Dawn cos early."
Noah lay in his bed later, staring at the ceiling beams while the house settled into night silence. His mind churned through possibilities, trying to find the logic in what he was doing.
’Is this the right decision?’ he wondered. ’Spending ti training when I should be searching for whatever will destroy this kingdom? What if I’m wasting ti that could be used solving the actual quest?’
But there were no markers. No indication from the system whether he was on the right path or completely off track. Just that original notification: Extinguish the Flas.
’Maybe becoming a dragon knight is part of it,’ Noah reasoned. ’Maybe I need to be closer to Ego, to understand what happens to him. Or maybe I need to be positioned where I can actually affect whatever causes the kingdom’s fall.’
Or maybe he was completely wrong and this was a waste of ti that would cost him dearly later.
No way to know except to commit and see where it led.
He waited until he was certain everyone was asleep, then climbed out his window off into the night.
***
Morning ca with Gertrude’s voice calling through his door, though softer than usual.
"Brother? The knights are here."
Noah was already dressed, his few belongings packed in a cloth bag that wouldn’t have impressed anyone but was all Burt owned. He opened the door to find his sister standing there in her nightgown, her eyes red from crying.
"Hey," he said gently. "No tears, rember? I’ll be back before you know it."
She nodded but didn’t speak, just threw her arms around him one more ti.
His mother waited by the door, her composure firmly in place despite the worry clear in her eyes. The dragon knights stood outside, their horses saddled and ready, an extra mount prepared for Noah.
"Be safe," his mother said, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Be smart. Co ho."
"I will," Noah promised.
He kissed her forehead, hugged Gertrude one final ti, then walked outside to where the knights waited.
Marcus grinned at him. "Ready to beco a dragon knight, mama’s boy?"
"Leave him alone," Davos countered. "At least he has a mother who cares. What’ve you got? A father who pretends you don’t exist?"
"Oi, that’s hitting below the belt!"
Roland laughed. "Both of you shut up and mount up. We’ve got eight hours of riding ahead."
Noah climbed onto the horse they’d provided, settling into the saddle with reasonable competence. The animal was calm, well-trained, responding to gentle pressure rather than requiring harsh commands.
Egor remained silent at the front of their formation, his expression unreadable as always.
They rode out as the sun crested the horizon, seven figures on horseback moving north through countryside that gradually shifted from settled farmland to wilder territory.
***
Back at the house, Noah’s mother stood in the doorway long after they’d disappeared from view. Finally, she turned to Gertrude.
"Co on, sweetie. Let’s go fetch water together this morning. Just you and ."
They walked down the familiar path hand in hand, Gertrude still sniffling occasionally. When they reached the stream, both of them stopped.
Extra containers lined the bank. Five of them, each one new, each one already filled with clean water. And beside them, stacked neatly, was enough firewood to last a month.
His mother stared at the supplies, her hand going to her mouth.
"Burt did this," she whispered. "Last night, while we were sleeping. He knew we’d struggle without him, so he..."
She didn’t finish, just stood there looking at evidence of her son’s care, tears running down her face that had nothing to do with sadness.
***
The ride north took them through forests that grew denser as they traveled, the road becoming less maintained until it was barely more than a dirt path. Noah’s muscles protested the extended ti in the saddle, but he kept pace without complaint.
The other knights talked amongst themselves, sharing stories from previous hunts, speculating about the current crop of recruits. Noah listened more than he spoke, learning what he could about what waited ahead.
By the ti the sun reached its peak, they’d covered maybe half the distance. Roland called for a break near a stream where the horses could drink.
"You’re handling the ride well," Brom observed, offering Noah dried at from his pack. "Most city boys complain after the first hour."
"I’m motivated," Noah replied, which was true if misleading.
They continued through the afternoon, the landscape becoming hillier, the trees larger and older. Eventually, as the sun began its descent toward evening, the forest opened into a clearing.
The training camp sprawled across maybe ten acres of cleared land, surrounded by wooden palisades that suggested defensive capability rather than just marking boundaries. Watch towers stood at intervals, manned by figures in white that Noah could see even from a distance.
Buildings dotted the interior, arranged in organized rows that reminded Noah of military installations from his own tiline. Barracks, probably. Training yards. Administrative structures.
And everywhere, activity. n moved between buildings with purpose, so in full armor, others in simple training clothes. The sound of combat drifted across the distance, tal on tal, shouts of exertion.
"Ho sweet ho," Marcus said with theatrical enthusiasm. "Well, not ho. More like suffering made architecture. But you get used to it!"
They approached the main gate where guards in white tabards stood watch. The guards nodded to Egor, recognizing him imdiately, and waved them through without question.
Inside, the scale beca more apparent. The camp was massive, easily housing several hundred people based on the number of structures Noah could see. Training yards occupied central positions, each one filled with recruits practicing forms or sparring under the watchful eyes of instructors.
Those instructors all wore white crests on their chests, marking them as different from the trainees who wore colored hoods. Green, red, and yellow dominated, creating a rainbow effect when large groups gathered.
"The white crests are instructors," Egor said, speaking directly to Noah for the first ti since they’d left. "You obey them without question. They’ve earned their positions through years of service and more dragon kills than you can imagine."
Noah nodded, taking it all in.
They rode through the camp toward a central building larger than the others. A gathering space, Noah realized, seeing recruits filing in and out with the casual familiarity of routine.
"This is where we leave you," Roland said, dismounting. "You’ll et with the Constable, he’ll explain the program, assign you to a group. We’ll see you when training’s complete."
"Assuming you make it through," Marcus added with a grin that took the edge off the words.
Noah dismounted, grabbed his bag, and faced the knights who’d brought him here.
"Thank you," he said simply.
"Don’t thank us yet," Davos replied. "You might hate us by the end of this."
They rode off, leaving Noah standing alone outside the central building. He took a breath, adjusted his bag, and walked inside.
The interior was a large open hall, rough wooden benches arranged in rows facing a raised platform at the far end. Maybe forty young n and won sat waiting, all of them around Noah’s age, all of them wearing expressions that ranged from confident to terrified.
Noah found a spot near the middle and sat, his eyes scanning the other recruits. So looked like they ca from wealth, their clothes well-made despite being simple. Others wore poverty like a second skin, threadbare fabric and hollow cheeks that spoke of not enough food.
All of them were here for the sa reason. To beco dragon knights or die trying.
A door at the back of the hall opened and a man entered.
He was massive. Easily six and a half feet tall, with shoulders broad enough that he had to turn slightly to fit through the doorway. His arms were thick with muscle that showed even through the simple tunic he wore, and his hands looked like they could crush stone. His face was weathered, scarred in places, with a nose that had been broken multiple tis and healed slightly crooked each ti. Dark hair cut short, a beard trimd close to his jaw, and eyes that swept across the gathered recruits with the kind of assessnt that made everyone sit a little straighter.
No armor, just simple clothes that sohow made him look more dangerous rather than less.
He stepped onto the platform and the hall went completely silent.
"I am Constable Ironside," his voice rumbled across the space, deep and carrying authority that didn’t need volu. "For the next however-many months, I own you. Your ti, your effort, your blood. Everything you are belongs to this training until I say otherwise."
Noah felt his breath catch.
’No shit,’ he thought, staring at the man who’d nearly killed him in the castle dungeon. ’It’s Ironside.’
The headless knight who’d used his own severed head as a weapon. Who’d moved with speed that exceeded what Noah could track. Who’d forced him to use every trick he had just to survive.
Except here, now, Ironside had his head firmly attached to his shoulders. Was alive. Was real. Was one of the dragon knights who’d existed before whatever destroyed the kingdom.
They were all real people at so point.
And Noah was standing among recruits, preparing to train under the instruction of soone he’d fought to the death in another tiline.
Ironside’s eyes swept the crowd and for one brief mont, his gaze landed on Noah.
Perhaps recognition flickered there, gone so fast Noah almost thought he’d imagined it.
Then Ironside smiled, and Noah felt ice settle in his stomach.
This was going to be interesting.
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