In a way, Kris once acted like some twisted version of the evil queen from snow white.  He lives for the wind rustling in his hair, he loves the feeling of the rush on his wings.  Being able to shapeshift into an actual dragon makes him the king of the skies – and a master of flying them he should be. 

For a long time he is, he smirks at the cadets all high and mighty.   He watches them widen eyes because he stands before them.  Whispers of his name fly in corridors – I saw the white dragon today – and it all makes his head swell. 

He liked to kick down doors and toss the captain of the academy a toothy grin.  He’d cough to announce his presence, never bowed down, never showed respect.  He was the White Dragon, king of the air, he needed not respect anyone.   And the thing that grounded him, one day, was when he kicked down the door to the captain’s office and asked “Who’s the best pilot around?” 

Of course, he knew the answer, but watching the captain’s lips frown, and the crease of his eyes dip made it worth it.  It made it worth it to hear the disgruntled “You are.” Every time.   It filled his lungs with ego and Kris liked that, he liked the feeling of power thrumming in his veins. 

Until one day, it didn’t.  One day, the answer was, “This new kid.” 

Kris needed to find that kid.  He needed to beat her, destroy her, show her that no one ruled the skies but him.  And of course, the captain not once revealed her identity.  Not once would Kris learn the name of the girl that stole his title. 

Twenty-five year old Kris looks back at the experience as grounding.  It pushes him off the high horse he lived on and forces him to train harder, work harder, earn back the title he never had the right to, he had to earn it.  He asked every day, and each day it had less and less meaning to him. 

Instead of a challenge, it became a game.  Kris wanted to meet this girl, challenge her to a race, to see who could break the atmosphere quicker.  Who could fly to the moon and back faster, maybe have a cup of coffee after, maybe he would pay, maybe they’d be friends, and maybe he’d thank her.  Thank her for teaching him that the air has no king, but only soldiers.  And even the white dragon is nothing but a soldier for the sky to use. 

But then, the day came, that the captain had sunken eyes and his fingers shook.  And when Kris asked, the answer crushed his heart.  “You are.”