The White Dragon

"Your first task," Sire Chert said, stopping midway to increase the suspense. "Kill the White Dragon of Light Speed!"

Gasps and murmurs are heard from the audiences after the announcement in the dusty old tavern. The knights and the trainees, that include me, stood out with our shining armors that glint in the faint light amidst the sea of commoners in their brown drab and intoxicated faces of horror. I stood bravely in the elevated stage of the tavern, near the bar of potions and beer.

"The dragon we speak of, as the name states, has scales as white as snow in the deathly winter," he said, more gasps heard every description. "Movements as fast as…" he trailed. "As fast as toenail clippings!" More gasps as I kept a straight face. "And worst of all, as big as a knight's hand!" The crowd shouted in terror, babies crying, sounds of dread fill the room.

A knight's hand, I thought to myself. I looked at Sire's hand and questioned what I've heard. "Wait, a knight's hand?"

"Yes, me boyo!" He replied, showing his hand, which, I admit, is abnormally large for a human but not for a dragon. "Don't belittle the White Dragon as it's the master of deception. That's why I gave this job to you, the trainee with emotions as blank as a pitiful artist's canvas!"

Sire Chert handed me a scroll with butter-like color and tattered edges, the blue ribbon tied nicely on the middle. "Begone, Slyke!" He shouted with pride in his voice. "And when you come back, you'll be blessed as an official part of the calvary. A knight!" The crowd shifted to give a path in the middle, cheering and applauding me.

I walked confidently in the path, with a hand in the sheathed sword. I left the tavern and unto the forest in broad daylight. I unraveled the scroll that shows an illustration of a dragon with, unexpectedly, adorable face. It is stated that the dragon resided in this forest and proceeded to frantically look for it.

A menacing shriek can be heard in the north, a voice of a strong and formidable monstrosity, the dragon. I rushed towards the sound in a quick pace.

And there it is, the White Dragon, positioned in a fetal manner underneath a tree, sleeping. Everything Sire said was true, albino skin and small stature. I don't know about its speed and I am not gonna find it out. I unsheathed my sword and swung my sword towards its neck. As my weapon made contact, its eyes opened wide and let out a strong shriek, different from the one I've heard, but it did not flinch as it meets its impending doom, knowing that this is his endgame.

I grabbed the head and the body and placed it my duffel bag. I hurriedly ran back towards the tavern where they are still announcing the missions of other trainees.

"I did it!" I exclaimed in joy. Sire halted the announcement and rushed towards me. I raised the duffel bag with pride and glory.

"Show me the body," Sire said. I opened the bag and dropped the carcass of the dragon. Its white scales erratically painted with a crimson red hue and red, gooey, mass coming from its head. Sire leaned and examined the body, frantically looking for something. "This is not it."

Gasps were once again heard from the crowd. "This is definitely the one," I said defensively. "Look at the illustration in the scroll." I unrolled and the scroll and handed it to Sire.

"The one you killed does not have a scar," he said in horror. A great shriek can be heard, the same one I've first heard in the forest. A cold shiver runs down in my body from the sound. The ground shook every after sounds of stepping.

All of us went out, Sire and I leading the way. There it was, an exact replica of the one in the illustration but this was bigger than the tavern.

"The one you've killed is the child, that is the mother," Sire said, pointing at the monster. "I should've known it will eventually have a growth spurt. I should've said that the info from scroll was 50 years old."

I looked at him wide-eyed, anger fueling up inside me for not telling me sooner. The brave knight Chert was gone and all I see is a scared commoner in shining armor of grey. This was supposed to be my defining moment and I will surely get it. I grabbed my sword and pursued the dragon.