George Atmell

I think it's best if I introduce myself, and tell you the story that lead me to an adventure I will never forget.

I am George Atmell, a human who once aspired to be a dragon rider, only that I did not personally know any dragon willing to take me as their partner. That was the only requirement that's left for me to be considered a dragon rider, and not a cadet.

It is very important to find a dragon that respects you and is willing to learn with the rider. The Order does not consider dragons as a mount, as that makes them no different with horses. Dragons are intelligent beasts that can talk and are natural users of magic. I also know that Eastern dragons hailing from the Eastern Region have the same privileges and rights as the humans. Along with the Southern Region, the Eastern Region has dragons employed in professional works. One of those, which I find peculiar, yet interesting, is a mayor. Some cities in the Eastern Regions have dragons as mayors.

Anyway, if I did not find any dragons, or maybe a wyvern for that matter, I would be taken out of the rider program and transferred to the Sword and Shield group. To be fair, it was not that bad if you're not a dragon rider. A Sword or a Shield (depending on their position) had all the trainings for a dragon rider, except they did not have a dragon partner. However, they were valuable as leaders of an army or a platoon as they were considered the senior, while dragon riders followed a different command line. Let's just say they were the equivalent of the army, while dragon and wyvern riders were the air force.

And that's what worried me. Being a Sword's not bad. You're paid better, you got access to some comfort, and you could eat with a sense of luxury. However, you are not riding a dragon. It's always my dream to be a rider one day, preferably a dragon. It's like that social thing, you know. You're working so hard to be a rider, even falling ill. You come at the top of your class only to find out you do not fulfill one requirement. Just one, and you're off the list.

I admit, I was not the top of my class. Still, I was not in danger of being kicked out, either. I got myself an internship with Zardes and Malkar, and I even got a chance to ride with Itresil, a dragon that was notorious for being...frightening. I swore I sometimes saw her lower jaw split into two. It must be my imagination, but still....

Anyway, my worries aside, the day I met Arcturus was a normal day, and I did not expect anything unusual. On the day before our fateful meeting, I woke up in the morning, pondering my future. I was pondering so deeply, in fact, that I was startled by someone saying, "Hey, you okay there?"

I turned towards the voice's owner, a brown-furred, orange-eyed hellhound who happened to be the member of Hellfighter. Hellfighters, as the name suggested, consisted of only hellhounds. Before I continue, I must clarify that it is not a way to segregate them. It's true that the humans still considered hellhounds as demons due to the fact that they were a subterranean race, along with the fact that they look pretty imposing themselves. The reason this group was formed was simple; they were the only race that could travel into the Underworld. Also, all hellhounds are natural fighters, as they can quickly master any kind of martial arts or even a weapon given time and a little effort. Well, humans do, too, but they need much more effort compared to hellhounds.

Anyway, Zardes Itruan was a kind fellow who talked to me about things. He was also the only one who I could talk to about my worries. In fact, when I shared my worries, he tried to encourage me to find a smaller dragon, or maybe a wyvern. I was quite stubborn and kept telling him that I wanted a dragon partner I could fly with, not a dragon perched on my shoulder supporting me. Man, I sounded like a jerk.

My worries were exacerbated by the fact that in just a week, I had to report to the admin for a graduation. Unlike a normal educational institution, it's either a dragon rider or a Sword/Shield. You do not hold back a year just because you fail something. So, planning and a little swallowing of pride is necessary if you want to get out to the world. Otherwise, you'll simply fail. Those who failed (or just dropped out) ended up becoming mercenaries. An over-skilled, underpaid, mercenary. I did not want that. I wanted to succeed, but my stubbornness was the bane on my side.

And then the talk turned into something...well, normal. He also shared his worries for me about my girlfriend. Carilla. Carilla was a cait sith that I dated a while ago, and I was fully aware of her identity. She was a lust demon, basically a succubus. You don't normally date a succubus. They are there to have sex with you and take your life force. Well, she wasn't that kind of succubus, and she did have an apprehension of doing it, knowing that three strikes and I'm dead.

It was a short diversion from the matter at hand, though. Zardes kept encouraging me to not throw all my training to waste. I thought about it. He even threw in a little cheeky remark about praying to a god and hoping for a miracle.

"Do you?" I said.

He just chuckled and reminded me that he was not the kind to pray to any god. I mean, he's a hellhound. He has 'hell' on his race's name! Anyway, Zardes and I talked about Malkar's expedition and what they were trying to unravel. We talked and talked the whole day, even walking out of Qeveriyt and to the farmlands that decorated the city's perimeter. We went to a restaurant, eat a hearty meal, and we parted ways. I thought that Zardes tried to let me ease up a bit, and it worked. I ended that day forgetting about my worries.

The next day, however, I started to think that he had an ulterior motive, because he knocked my door early in the morning, told me to change into my traveling gear (he was already in full gear), and followed him. I obliged. I was still working under him, after all. He never asked me to wake up this early in the morning, however. The sun was barely up! Anyway, it was a rather important day, and after I changed, I met Itresil on the landing pad, all saddled up and ready to go.

The flight to the digging site was uneventful. The dry wind of the desert helped me wake up without coffee. It turned out Zardes was also woken up by a phone call from his friend, Malkar, who told him that they had finally gained access to something interesting. As I listened, it became clear that it was not the project Malkar had been doing, and I was out of the loop with this one.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"So, a wind dragon practiced his magic in the middle of the desert when he blew the sands around this object," said Zardes. "He quickly flew back to Qeveriyt, thinking that it was yet another prison for dangerous dragons. I was told to prepare myself in case it was true."

"And apparently, Malkar's there to help excavating it?" I asked.

"He's excavating a door, so why don't he look at another door?"

It sounded as if Malkar was a door enthusiast, but that's not the case. He just happened to be the only archaeologist around that area, so he was called there while the rest of his team kept doing the usual thing.

Before long, we landed near the site: a lone door in the middle of a vast desert. I quickly spotted a hellhound I also knew personally. While I sometimes mistook one hellhound with another, especially if they had the same fur color (both Malkar and Zardes were brown-furred), it wasn't hard to miss Malkar, not with those round glasses over his yellow eyes. Malkar was waiting for us and was elated to see us land. He immediately shook hands with Zardes and greeted both me and Itresil. Even if Malkar was an archaeologist, it was clear that he was still a hellhound, especially since he was rather well-toned for an academic. Well, I did say he was a hellhound, but he was in fact a half-hellhound. He had horns and long prehensile 'devil tail', but his eyes were closer to a wolf than a hellhound, showing the other half of his heritage. Those same eyes shone brightly as he excitedly talked about the thing he found, like a hungry dog looking at its food.

He also told us a surprising fact. The door led to an entryway that went down to a room beneath the sand, but that was after Malkar told us that the small entryway was made from rusted metal. Malkar speculated that it was part of an ancient civilization that populated the Central Region when it was not a desert. The rust of the metal was consistent with exposure to a climate closer to that of the Southern Region, where rainfall was common and at times developed into storms. I was there once. It was awful.

Anyway, Malkar may be a hellhound (well, half-hellhound, but still), but the light brown furred hellhound was not going in alone, as he considered it to be reckless. So, he waited for the two of us as we were trained to tackle all kinds of problems, including draconic ones.

We got ready for this occasion. As I learned from the academy, you never leave home without carrying your weapon. It worked both as a defensive measure and a way to identify yourself, as everyone had their own weapons. The weapon ranged from something common like swords and battleaxes to something equally deadly like a sharp garotte wire or a gun. Well, the garotte part was very unconventional, and it made you look like a sadistic villain. Still, it had its own charm for some people.

Not me, though. I prefer something loud and practical. My idea was 'why not combine a sword and a gun?' Thus, my gun-sword was made. Even then, this weapon still had a problem with the 'practical' part. It could shoot a kind of energy out of it, but it consumed a great amount of mana due to it being so condensed. I was planning to tune it later, but the thought of not having a partner still lingered to the point I forgot all about it. It wasn't a requirement to have a perfectly working personal weapon to graduate, so it was the least of my worries.

Anyway, Zardes knew about my weapon's problem, and warned me to stay vigilant. There was a small chance that it was in fact a prison for dangerous dragons from the past, much like the Northern dragon incident 20 years ago. We called it 'the Northern Problem', especially if we wanted to call a potentially disastrous development. Even if it was not a prison for dragons, an unknown dungeon like this could hold many dangers like traps.

As we walked into the dungeon, it became more and more apparent that the design of the interior was not of this Earth, especially if you had previously determined that something this ancient would not be made from processed metal. The door was far too small for a dragon, though it was big enough to fit an 8-feet to 9-feet giant. It felt like we walked into something lost to history, which excited Malkar (couldn't blame him. He was an archaeologist).

We talked about the dark entryway and how ancient civilizations had the idea of creating stairs when something happened. Zardes almost slipped into a chasm in the darkness. It was only a timely help from me and his own reflexes that saved him from certain death. I quickly shot a light magic to illuminate the area, taking care not to use a lot of mana when using my gun-sword. It turned out that the stairs ended there, and beyond that was a chasm. As hellhounds were adapted to see in the dark, Zardes and Malkar noticed something on the far side of the chasm and directed me to illuminate the area they pointed. I followed their words and it also became clear to me.

There was something on the other side of the chasm. It was a locked door with intricate, otherworldly symbol that did not conform to any kind of language. We also found that the chasm Zardes almost fell into was in fact a part of a bridge of some sort, apparently broken due to age and neglect. We decided that we could not cross it. Even a hellhound's more animalistic legs could not make the jump: it was simply too far for them. Unless you could walk on the air or maybe a second boost mid-jump, you could not traverse the chasm (or simply having wings). So, in the end, we decided to wait and set up a camp near the chasm. The floor near the broken bridge was big enough for a camp of three, and that's where we stayed while we assess the dark environment.

Well, Malkar was the one doing the assessing. We were there to protect him from harm. Since there was no harm yet, we decided to talk. Once again, I voiced my concerns towards Zardes, and again, he assured me that I would be fine. He even told me that he'd take me to the breeding home to see if any dragon whelps would be interested to have me as a dragon partner. People had always said that a younger dragon would be easier to bond with. I started to think that I was acting like a brat who was adamant that I got that one thing, and so I started thinking about it.

Our day went on in complete darkness. While the hellhounds were more in their element, I was not comfortable with dark places, so I walked outside for a little sun. Before long, I stayed outside, talking with the local pathfinders that had been with the team and helping them. Given that we were the only humans in the group, we started to bond (Malkar's team consisted only of hellhounds, with only the human pathfinder and myself the only humans).

We talked, ate, and talked until it was already night. That's when he talked about something interesting regarding the metal entryway.

"My people had a legend about this place," said the pathfinder. "It is said that a long time ago, the people of the desert kingdom, my ancestors, were menaced by an evil coming from the stars. They feared the evil but had no idea on how to appease it. Then, a warrior came and fought the evil by entering its mouth and destroying it from within, in which he came out, became the king's heir, and made the kingdom prosper."

"And you're telling me this metal thing is the carcass of the creature?" I asked.

"There is a possibility," he said. "That door looks eerily like a creature's gaping maws, does it not? Well, nowadays, we do not regard these stories as true, but I wonder if the sand buried anything that might prove or disprove the legends?"

I concurred. Legends had their own truth. Sometimes, the truth was not as grand as the story, or sometimes the story underestimated the scope of the truth. I had not found anything that had that kind of balance, both in real life and even in books. I doubted that this deceptive entryway could give that kind of balance.

Little did I know that this time, the legend was not just a legend. Even better, the truth was far more interesting that I thought it would be.