A ferocious roar wracked my body.

It was all I needed to hear to tell me that Gustaf had donned his true dragon form. I rushed towards a large, double-layered door. It was open, but I couldn’t see outside with Gustaf’s threatening bulk hiding the view.

He was about thrice a man’s size, a flaming mix of orange and black. Horns ran through the back of his spine. His stance stood tall and neck long. The draconic scales seemed sturdy even at a glance. He bared his wings, the muscles supporting it flexed, while his thick tail blocked the entrance. I jumped over the tail and landed to a nice view:

Gustaf’s menacing scowl against a perfect wall of knights.

How did I know they were knights?

First, the crest on their hearts were the symbol of the King’s authority. Their armors weren’t golden; they were an undecorated but pristine, shimmering alloy of adamantium and mithril, the former known for its physical endurance and the other magical. Their gear was custom-fit, and did not in anyway hinder (and probably enhanced) their combat performance. There might even be some magic enchantments.

Their helmets hid their face, there were only tiny slits for their mouths, noses, and eyes. It must be tough to breathe wearing that, but I didn’t see it affecting them. It must be what they meant when the Royal Knights’ value on integrity. Unless you ask their names, really know them, or are lucky, it’s almost impossible to tell who’s who for all these lower ranking gentlemen. It was a test of their integrity, so to speak.

To be honest, it’s a dumb idea but they seem to be doing a perfect job seeing as they have us all surrounded in great numbers. Their grayish capes fluttered with the wind, and their stances and aura talked violence, although the fear and loathing is palpable, too.

There was also another super important thing that caught my attention.

I shivered.

Around me were buildings that towered even the tallest titans of myths. Their walls and foundations, most likely, were made of precious metals such as those found in the armors of these scary (and scared?) warriors of valor. Did this mean that they were not so precious anymore?

The towers formed vertical lines touching the skies, each shape more elongated or baroque every time. There was almost no logic to it, but I bet the folks living over there could give a thousand explanations why it was made that way -- and we’re not even talking about the bullshit answers yet.

Mindful that now was not the time to know whether my sense of direction was evolved enough not to be mazed traversing this travesty, I looked back towards the knights, thinking over how to mitigate this brewing bout between them and a raging hot Gustaf. If they insist, well…

They’re toast, so to speak. “Hey,” I called out to Gustaf with a whisper.

He snarled, steam rising from the corners of his mouth. The knights flinched. I also flinched but it was to hold a chuckle.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to get them all riled up. Look,” I beckoned towards the structures and the flying wagon-lizard--like contraptions in the sky. “Wouldn’t you want to just mate with one of them? A lot less trouble and it's good for your mental health,” I jested in good fun, smiling playfully. I could see him trying to stifle a laugh of his own. Such a good sport, this dragon. Just don’t catch him during his actual tantrums.

The knights were wary about our silent conversation. I wouldn’t blame them since I just pointed towards their direction, although upwards. In hindsight that was thoughtless but things must move on.

“Say,” I said.

“How would you like for this to continue?” I stared intently at Gustaf, patiently waiting for an answer. He was weird but he was a smart dragon.

There was a glint in his eye.

I smiled.

A knife imbued with magic just flew past his eye, almost hitting him. He flinched. “Let’s go!” I shouted, the both of us gearing into action.

So that’s where the glint came from. Well, not that it mattered. It wouldn’t have scratched him, much less be a bother.

We flew and gradually, we were out of sight, our escape simple but effective.

As we continued upwards, I couldn’t help but be amazed and irritated by these towers. There were a few times when I would almost hit an eccentrically placed portion of a tower here and there, hidden by the clouds. It was a good thing I monitored Gustaf’s flight closely, as he is obviously more than a master when it comes to air travel.

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We flew in a frantic, but controlled pace, and when we were high enough it allowed us a better view of the sprawling cityscape. There wasn’t just these towers - in fact, they were just a small but domineering part of the types of structures scattered disorderly about the city.

A mismatch of grand colors, from the creamiest blue to the darkest pink, all laid bare, some asking for attention. Some were obviously small and meant for residential purposes, but there were larger ones, smoke spewing from openings on their roofdecks.

Tetrahedrons, hexagons, and even three large domes, it was a city of wonder and irritance that I’d like to get acquainted with a bit more… alas, that wasn’t possible right now.

Hearing almost inaudible gasps almost similar to the swooshing wind, Gustaf and I were awarded a closer look at the lizard-like wagons ferrying panicking passengers. So that was the thing.

There was a magic that encompassed the contraptions; I’d guess it was the magic powering their flight. Just the sheer amount of power behind it was enormous, uneconomical even, and I frowned. I wasn’t totally sure if the actual magical result is something to be proud of, but the innovation of automating flight itself was something worth mentioning.

How did I know it was automated? There wasn’t a soul powering the magic.

The wagons were made of either wood or adamantium. Each wagon had varied lengths and could house a number of passengers (though some wagons could only house around two or three, and are decorated in a more flashy fashion). Seats were placed across and in-front of each other, and depending on width each row could have at most three seats.

I wondered how they dealt with rain, but seeing as they have little reaction to the erratic wind and some others looking confident amidst the curious dragon’s gaze, it must be that there are protective magic in place for situations like this. Although, they must not realize how curious this dragon can be, and how he’s no cat.

We didn’t take long to observe, and soon found ourselves safely out of the pesky range of the city and in more forest dense areas. I noticed that the few miles to the capital that I talked about earlier were filled to the brim with structures now. Did this mean that they extended the capital or was this a newly developed area? Did that mean our jurisdiction was an important one for it to house all those abominations?

That made me feel disgustingly proud. Then I realized:

“What about our house!?” Sis is going to kill me!

Why do I vaguely feel that Gustaf was happy about this?

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“Captain,” a nondescript knight-scout gave his salute, placing his left hand behind the tail of his spine and his right on the sternum. “The anomalies… they…” the hesitance in the man irked Alexander Ruth, and his gaze reflected a growing impatience. The scout’s right hand shook in response.

“They what?” the general’s voice was no different from a deep rumble, and he could see the line of sights of everyone slowly moving away from the skies and towards him. It only served to anger him more.

“Why is everyone’s eye stuck to the clouds? Have you gotten charmed, lad?” he asked sardonically, the scout gulping before squeaking through a reply. “They were able to…” he took a deep breath. The general didn’t like where this was going.

“They escaped,” a calm, silvery voice rescued the scout from behind him. A tall and athletic knight approached. He did not wear a helmet, and it revealed his jet-black, messy hair. The general frowned, but he trusted this knight enough to know that there was more to this anomaly. He lamented being late but the knight’s captain can’t just leave the King’s side nilly willy.

The general gave a passing glance towards the scout and gestured for him to leave. Lucas put a hand on the scout’s shoulder, giving him a silent reassurance. The scout nodded frantically and left.

“Lucas,” the General greeted monotonically. “Salutations, General Ruth,” Lucas’ lips thinned into a smile, but his deep, black, sharp eyes were pensive. The man was never known to physically salute to anyone, and the general was never bothered by trivialities like that anyway, so he let Lucas be. “Do you mind giving an explanation? How could your unit allow them to escape?”

Judging by the scout’s earlier brief description, the anomalies must have been living beings, thought the General.

“There were two anomalies,” Lucas put a hand on his chin as he said, sinking deeper into his thoughts. “One was a dragon,” he revealed.

“A dragon?” The general raised a brow. There were a lot of so-called dragons roaming around the continent, and none of them deserved that moniker. “Are you saying that your unit failed to apprehend a dragon?” His eyes glared at Lucas, unbelieving that the 1st banner could fail such a simple task.

“That was what I first thought, but…” he snickered. “Even I couldn’t find it in myself to step foot inside that dreadnought’s range,” he said, motioning slightly through every word, an untold mix of thoughts must have been grating at him.

The general’s glare turned into contemplation. “Dreadnought? Are you saying it was a gigantic one?” Of course, there existed “dragons” with sizes half as tall as the building’s around this area, but they still didn’t warrant the fear associated with the dragon’s of olden tale.

Lucas shook his head. “No, general. In fact, he was quite small compared to the giant draconic lizards found on the dunes. This dragon… it was its magic that was humongous. I could not even begin to compare him to… that’s wrong -- it was a being of magic himself. It wasn’t touched by magic; it is.”

There was an undertone of interest in Lucas’ voice. The general ignored it. It was normal for the young upstart to have such vague inclinations. Lucas may do as he please so long as it doesn’t affect the General’s work.

But should he be surprised now? By the look on Lucas’ face, there might be more to this than meets the eye.

“So, anything else?” The general said, at the end of his wits.

“They flew away.”

“They? Were there a number of dragons?”

Lucas shook his head. “No,” he answered simply.

When General Alexander Ruth heard the next few words that clarified everything, his body trembled. The implications are endless-

-and unpredictable.

“He flew, too.”

The King must know.