Prologue

A Breathing Mythologia

Dragons.

Not a mere legend but a living legend. Sights and encounters of such beasts had been accounted by reliable sources no more than by a few dozens witnesses in a span of centuries, detailed into sensible analyses but privileged for few only. With such a little number of sightings within a long time span, added with exclusivity of such knowledge, no wonder society would prefer to consider dragons as legends.

Yet here she was, carrying on a task to find a legend as if looking for ordinary beasts.

No lying, at the first moment she received the briefing of her quest, she needed a lot of exertion not to laugh and scoffs cynically. This quest had  high importance without no doubt, for it was the King himself who ordered, but the air of unrealistic possibility still lingered almost ridiculously. She still couldn't stop the guessing the true purpose of this legend-chasing mission of hers. A dragon had a tremendous power and surely would bolster the kingdom's strength in arms, but if that was the reason, the kingdom wasn't in a state of war. Ocassional strife and friction from neighboring states were still present, yes, but not in an alarming level. Not in a level a dragon is needed to unleash a destruction.

For the honor of House Kwon, the Dragon-beheaders, shouldn't she stop questioning and just carry on her errand? She shouldn't have questioned the King's cause from the start. She wasn't sent for a suicide mission. Only a mad king who wanted a destruction of his own land nor his vassals, and she could swore her King is anything but mad. Flawed as he might be, but not mad. 

Her breath wheezed slightly as she barely landed her footing safely. The weight of her gear and the uneasy path had deterred quite amount of her stamina and she'd dismounted to walk the terrain that was too difficult for the hooves of a horse. With the perilous terrain she'd gone through, it quizzed her why this errand was handed to the hands of a single knight, while sending a small group of handpicked elites would be much more safer and efficient.

For the difficulties of her journey, there was a share of folly from her part. She chose to don her steel set of protective gear instead of leather and light metal-based one. Of course, her choice for the exhaustive armor wasn't baseles; she didn't want to take chances with a dragon.

And legend said even steel couldn't hinder a dragon's claws.

Trying to recompose her breath, she took a quick assessment of her surrounding. The area was covered in thick foliage and invited only little amount of sunlight. Underneath the high rising trees, the roots and undergrowth entwined together to become a malice to every steps she took. Eerie air that hung all around strung a sense of unease to her guts. A place befitting for a beast's hideout indeed. The perimeter of this location should've been where the dragon hid, according to the information she'd briefed with.  

“Took you long enough.”

She jumped and quickly drew her sword, pointing to the source of the voice. A youthful looking woman, barefoot, in ragged clothes.

“Who are you?”

“Me?” a vile-natured but harmless laugh erupts. “Whoever, whatever the goal of your errand, knight.”

It took the lady in steel mail a second of pondering to digest the stranger’s remark. Her eyes widened after she’d done so.

“No way…” She breathed in a lisp of gasp. “…You’re not possibly the dragon—“

“Surprise, surprise,” the stranger shook her head in a comedic fashion, obviously mocking the lady knight. “I bet in your head you already calculated at least a dozen tactics to defeat a humongous, flame-breathing beast with tough hide. Turns out what you seek is standing on the same height with you, looking as vulnerable as you.”

The knight frowned and held her sword tight.

Every muscles and senses of her were winded for a blitz of fight and flight. Her brain refused to acknowledge this wild looking female as a dragon, but her body and subconsciousness acted as if she was facing one. Either way, she still held her sword pointing to that wild stranger; for either her suspicion to the other as a human, or her instinct to defend herself before a  looming dragon.  

"Pointing a sword to someone unarmed is rude. Sheathe your sword, will you?" The woman in tattered clothes scoffed. Seeing the knight gave no visible response, she snorted and turned away. “Tsk, whatever. Let us no tarry. I wager your king, lord or whatever who pass the command is expecting my presence.”

Dampened noise of crunched dry leaves rustled under the sole of the self-proclaimed dragon's feet. Some more steps and still she didn't hear other footsteps following her own. She looked over her shoulder and found the knight still motionless, her hands hanging relaxed but still having her sword ready, her gaze was strong and intense.

“And pray and tell what your look might mean, knight.”

The knight had nothing but her lips in motion to utter, “What is your name, dragon?”