“One isn’t born without a mother, but learns to live life in the absence of one.”

….……

Why?…

His voiced chocked with pain and loss, though quietly spoken, rang loud in the dead silence of the forest…

Why?..

he screamed the question into the void…

….……

Whoosh…

The wind rushed past his ears as the boy raced down the familiar streets of the commoner district. He looked no older than seven to eight, with his brown hair and hazel colored eyes, his face still had a lot of baby fat with his cute nose and red thin lips. His fair skin flushed from exertion, catching the cool breeze as he ran through the streets. He knew this roads as well as he knew his own hands. His feet skimmed the cobblestones, deftly dodging people and obstacles as if it were second nature－because it was. Every turn, every narrow alley, he moved through with ease-this was his home, his playground.

He loved the thrill of it－the way the wind felt on his face as he ran past people, the sun softly warming his skin, the crowded streets feeling like a maze, he and only he could solve it. The stone and wood houses became part of the maze—the right alley to pass to get a couple of streets ahead. Sure, some people knew of this shortcuts before he did, but he could argue that none new as many as he did or could navigate them as quickly.‘There I go again, arguing with myself over who knows more shortcuts with people who don’t exist,’ he thought as he ducked into a side alley, barely missing a vendor’s cart by a hair’s breadth, the smell of freshly baked bread wafting up in his wake. A few curses followed him as he rushed passed, which only made him laugh heartily.

He truly loved this place－the streets, the way the common folk went about their daily lives, the sounds of younger children laughing and playing, the shouting of peddlers trying to get people to buy their goods, the smell of fresh food in the morning. Nearby the town guards bickered about who could take on a wildcat in the tavern while downing liquor and teasing the barmaid when she would get married. Their boisterous laughter rang out loud in the street, as he was passing the tavern locally called “goatee” for the owner’s impeccably groomed facial hair.

Keith waved toward the owner of the tavern who was outside about to dust the tavern sign, after noticing Keith he shouted, “Ahh! Keith! How are you doing. Hope you aren’t causing any trouble for the folks! I always here complaints about you, boy. Anyway, tell your mum she should come visit once in awhile, I miss my drinking partner and sister. Also Carl could use your company; heaven knows the boy won’t shut up about you and the time you guys spent near the fountain. Darn boy might get himself a whooping if he doesn’t hush about it!”

Keith chuckled at the end of the owner’s statement, nodding as he continued on his way. He came across an alley he normally wouldn’t consider taking, but he was already running late due to his short stop at his uncle’s tavern. He wanted to get home as quickly as possible because the faster he got home, the sooner he could tell his mother he’d completed her errand. Maybe－just maybe－she’d make his favourite dish tonight. The thought painted a foolish grin on his face. He made up his mind and entered the alley he otherwise stared clear of because of the shady figures that mostly occupied. ‘I’ll be quick,’ he told himself.

Not even five breaths later he could see the exit, the sight made him quicken his already fast pace, but just as he was about to leave the alleyway－

Thud!

He collided with someone, loosing his balance and falling to the ground. Startled by the sharp pain in his backside, he slowly glanced up to see who he stumbled into, but he saw a group of five people, all hooded, blocking the alley. The one he had bumped into grumbled, standing tall and brushing of his cloak.

“Watch where you are going, brat!,” the man snapped at him, his voice deep and rough, filled with irritation.

Keith barely registered the words directed at him. His eyes were locked onto something else, something peeking out of the sack the man carried. It shimmered, it was black, dark even, darker than anything he had ever seen, almost like it was absorbing the faint light filtering into the the alley. ‘Scales…?’ His heart quickened for reasons he couldn’t quite understand. There was something beautiful about the object with its ethereal like surface－something dangerous.

But his reverie was short lived; following his line of sight, the man quickly yanked the sack further up, covering the object. “You’d best learn to mind your own business, boy,” he growled, his tone sharp and final. “And keep your eyes off things that does not concern you.”

Keith snapped back to reality after the man’s final remark, who shot him a glare and dusted off his clothes before hurrying to rejoin his companions. They swiftly left, disappearing around the corner as quickly as they had appeared.

For a moment, Keith sat frozen, staring at the space where the group had vanished, nothing to testify to their existence but the dull pain coming from his backside and the image of that strange object imprinted in his memory.He shook his head, brushing of this encounter as just another odd occurrence in this chaotic street, another mystery and like his mother always warned him about. It wasn’t his place to get involved.

‘Ah…’ Kieth muttered, quickly gathering his satchel from where it had fallen. The sight of the dark scales flashed in his mind again, but he shook his head and resumed his run, albeit at a slightly slower pace now to avoid any further mishap. His next assailant might not be so forgiving.

As the sight of his house came into view, his unease faded to the back of his mind like it had never happened. He quickened his stride, eager for the warmth of his mother and her beautiful smile.

Stolen story; please report.

Bang!

“Mom! I’m here!” Keith hollered as he threw the door open as usual but this time with more enthusiasm than normal－by his standards anyway. The door groaned in protest. His mother had told him over a hundred times to be gentle when opening the door, but old habits die hard, he could already feel her scolding coming and sure enough it came.

“Keith! How many times have I told you not to slam the door open like that? Are you trying to break it down?” Her voice rang out from the kitchen, tinged with exasperation.

Keith winced at the reprimanding but then smiled. He knew one thing for sure: no matter how quick his mother was to chide him, she was even quicker to forgive him.

“Sorry, Mom! I was just so excited to see you!” he replied back, his voice filled with mock innocence. There was a short pause, then a sigh.

“What am I going to do with you, boy?” she muttered, though he could hear the smile in her voice.

Keith grinned wide and satisfied; she’d already forgiven him. He kicked off his shoes at the door and strode further inside the house, the familiar warmth of their small home instantly calming his racing heart. Though small, it was enough for both of them. The light from the sun filtered into the house through the windows, casting a warm, serene glow. As he went further inside he could already smell his mothers familiar cooking wafting past the living room and into the kitchen.

There she was, about average height, sporting the same brown hair as him, with her hazel colored eyes, a short but cute nose, and red pucker lips. All her features fit her face perfectly. She was beautiful and he wasn’t just saying it because she was his mother her beauty couldn’t be denied or exaggerated. He knew she had received countless proposals from men after her husband—his father—had passed away years ago, but she always turned them down. Whenever he asked her why, she’d always tell me the same thing:

“I don’t need another man in my life; I got my handful taking care of you.”

She’d say that with a happy smile on her face, filled with peace and contentment, satisfied with what life had given her. He’d always hug her to sleep those nights, happy to be in her warm embrace, happy to be her son.

She wore an apron over her dark brown gown, as she skillfully handled the kitchen as if it were her very own domain where she reigned supreme. Keith went over to the counter and began bringing out the items she had told him to get, along with her change. She saw him do this with her usual smile, but them she frowned and said.

“Why were you longer than usual today, and why are your pants dirty?”

“Ah… Uncle Turner stopped me for a little chat, he said something like he misses his drinking partner and we should stop by sometime so that you two can catch and I can play with Carl again.” At the end of his response, his mother sighed.

“Turner won’t give up till I drink with him again; he forgets we aren’t teens anymore…” She sighed again and looked up at him. “That answers the lateness but not the dirt.”

Then he replied, “ I bumped into someone and fell down.”

“I keep on telling you to not run so fast in the streets for this very reason.” She sighed again, and Keith couldn’t count how many times she had sighed just that morning. “Anyway, when you’re done eating, go and get changed, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She sighed again and started arranging the things Keith had brought for her, then she noticed something was missing. Honey. She had forgotten to remind him to get some, as the little they had wouldn’t be enough for both of them; her son had quite a sweet tooth, just like her. She quickly grabbed the loose change he had dropped earlier and gave it back to him and said with an apologetic tone.

“Dear, I’m sorry; I forgot to remind you to buy more honey. Quickly run down to the marketplace and get some more”

“Okay!” he snatched the coins from her hand and was about to bolt through the door when he heard his mothers voice again

“Aren’t you forgetting something, young man”

He stopped in his track and looked back to her, holding his satchel, after collecting it from her. He grinned sheepishly. She looked at him with a motherly smile and said, “Give mom a hug”

“But I’m dirty,” he protested.

“Nonsense! Nothing is going to stop me from embracing my boy, not even dirt that can be washed away later” She hadn’t finished her statement when she was already dragging him towards her, hugging him deeply. ‘Warm,’ Keith thought. Then she knelt to his level and said, “Look at my baby boy, already half my height! I remember as if it were yesterday when you came out of me, crying and shouting so loudly, as if announcing yourarrival to the world. You’re so big now!”

She ruffled his hair with a happy smile on her face. He started pouting.

“I’m already seven, Mom! You have to stop treating me like a little kid…Hmph!”

She laughed heartily. “You’ll always remain my little boy.” After that she kissed his cheek and sent him on his way.

He had just reached the door when she added, “ I’ll make your favorite dish tonight—extra serving as a treat if you’re quick!”

Keith turned back, his eyes brightened at the promise. “Yes, ma’am!” he chirped, swinging his satchel over his shoulder and dashing out the door without hesitation.

The marketplace wasn’t far; with the right shortcuts, he could cut down the journey time by half. Easy. As he made his way towards the market place he caught sight of an immaculately detailed sculpture of an armored man holding a round shield on his right arm and a war hammer in his left, riding on a goat with to large horns on its head. The whole statue was beautiful and very detailed. The statue was in service to the “Hero of the Federation.” According to the old man down the street, who always liked to educate anyone willing to listen about the history of how the “Federation of Tholsian Kingdom” came to be, he was a man of common blood born in one of the lesser kingdoms in the surrounding mountains.

After distinguishing himself in “The Great War of Tholsia,” where all kingdoms surrounding the “Heavens Mountain” fought like mad men for land, resources or whatever else, until a Dragon came and settled the war—more like scared everyone so much that they just stopped fighting and went home. After proving himself in the war, he returned to his kingdom, which was on the verge of being destroyed by one of the bordering kingdom. He alone rallied some men and fought against the kingdom that was attacking his own, even in the face of certain doom, he did not falter nor run away. It was this act of selflessness that sparked the flames of revolution within the masses mainly called the “common blood” by royalty and nobles, causing them to stand up and fight for their lives and their children's future.

This revolution, which started out small and was thought of as nothing but the ramblings of people of no consequences, but they were wrong, as it quickly grew and engulfed the surrounding kingdoms. After much deliberation by the kings, they decided to enter a peace treaty to stop all their infighting and came together as different kingdoms under one name—a coalition of sorts called the “Federation of the Tholsian Kingdoms.”

‘Though I doubt how much of that is true,’ Keith thought, as the old man has been known to exaggerate things out of proportion, ‘Also it happened over a hundred years ago. Who knows what’s true and what’s not?’

As Keith continued ruminating over the sayings of the history of his and the surrounding kingdoms, he noticed something felt… off. The usual chatter in the background was quieter than normal, as if the entire marketplace had collectively held its breath. Keith slowed his pace, frowning, scanning the surrounding crowd for a clue to the sudden change in the atmosphere.

Then, a voice—more like a shriek—cut through the uneasy silence like a blade.

“DRAGON!!”