• The full moon shone bright in the night sky, shedding a soft light on the Kingdom of England. In the valley below, a small hamlet was resting in the stillness. The small village of Dover was rather primitive, built only of wood. The large castle, not twenty miles form the small village, stood five stories tall. It was built completely of stone and only nobles ever entered it. Now, during the stillness of a wintry night, a young man of seventeen rose from sleep, planning to enlist himself as a knight. With great optimism, he dresses and picked up his father’s armour, still slightly too large. Though slightly groggy, he pulled on the armour and clipped a sword to his belt. Silently, he made his way out the door and went to the small stable attached to his small abode. His olfactory senses kicked in and he almost had to cover his nose form the stench as he entered the stable. He made his way over to his favourite horse, Nightrider. The large black stallion stomped and snorted as the young man saddled him. The ordeal was painstakingly slow but once the bout was over, he mounted and quickly rode out. And so began the journey of a young, spirited knight.

    Meanwhile, above the valley, was a large, snow-capped mountain. Many caves were gouged into the sides and in one particular cave, was a young frost dragon. He was coloured white and tinged blue, fearsome horns protruding from his massive head. His tail, wrapped around his sleeping mass, was decorated with large spikes, very easily sharp enough to take off a human head in one blow. But his facial expression looked grieved, even as he slept. Just two days before, an illusionist or sorceress had found their way into their cave and cast a spell on his parents, who now sat frozen in stone at the bosom of the cave. They then placed an illusion of some sort to ensure their getaway. Unable to sleep any longer, the dragon rose and lumbered over to the cave entrance. Looking down on the valley below, he spotted a small black figure riding swiftly to the castle. A thought so pleasant crossed his mind he had to use all his restraint to keep from flying out the cave. Maybe this knight, bound to know the rules of chivalry, could help him track down the illusionist who placed the spell on his parents. With rapture, the dragon flew from his cave, in hopes of finding help.

    The young man was almost at the castle gates when a shadow flew overhead. He took a quick second to look up and gasped, reining in his horse to a stop. Above him hovered a massive frost dragon. His appendages shook beneath his too big armour. What looked like a smile crossed the dragon’s face and the expression on the boy’s face was obviously bewildered. Two thoughts went through the mind of the young man. The first, he was going to die. The second, a hope he wouldn’t be mulcted out of anything. The dragon landed slowly beside him and folded his wings against his back. A look of anticipation crossed the dragon’s large face.
    “Excuse me,” the dragon spoke, “can you help me with a quest?” The young man’s face brightened.
    “What sort of quest?” the fastidious boy asked.
    “I’m trying to find the illusionist that cast a spell on my parents,” the dragon told him and the boy smiled. His armour jangled as he dismounted.
    “I will help you on your obscure quest,” he said. The dragon frowned.
    “How is it obscure?” the dragon asked and the young “knight” shrugged.
    “It isn’t. I just use words I hear,” he explained.
    “That will suffice,” the dragon told him and the boy out a hand out. The dragon put a mighty hand on top.

    Yet what they didn’t know was that a very powerful force was watching them. She looked cynically at the odd pair below.
    “They know nothing on how to find me,” the sorceress spoke with menace. And her name was Morgan le Fay.

    To Be Continued…