Now, the fact that there was a Draken having his hand broken by a human was truly a moment that garnered awe, and no Draken that day would have said otherwise, but the presence of this new Drakeness was starting to make a bigger headline. Oberon sat there, confused, as the wailing of the small yellow Draken could be heard in the distance.

  "Is she not the daughter of the Six-Claw legend?"

  "By the Hydra, I have never seen a purple Draken!"

  "I hear that she is the mightiest in this land."

  All of the whispers were going around as she looked back at him. The Knight could feel it; her eyes blazed as if they were on fire, however showing nothing in her static state. She was huge, almost as if she were a talking wall walking tall, standing out from the top, maybe the size of a small fortress. Oberon, this entire time had been thinking about why the building was so huge, and he was now getting front row seats to the reason for why the ceiling went past the clouds. It was hard to think that he did not notice her upon his entrance… almost as if, she concealed her presence.

  The tavernkeeper looked concerned, as he knew that things were about to escalate. "You know, I think we should-"

  "Who are your parents, and why are your eyes like that?" the Drakeness demanded Oberon, her voice showing a demanding opression. “I want to know what’s really inside you, Knight.”

  He felt fear when he heard this, but he pushed it down even though her figure was looming over, observing him. There was a condescending air of pride in his voice when Oberon started, and he could feel something changing about himself, the need to start being a hero, the need to make a name for himself, because in all this chaos of seeking vengeance and troubling himself with matters that he tried convincing himself he had control over, the truth in his mind permeated that he could not have done anything. But he realized that he could change things now, change things for the future, shape a destiny…

  And he liked it.

  "I… have honestly never known. My parents were never open to me about my ancestry. But if we are to advance in any conversation about this…" he trailed off. "...you are going to have to battle me first! The same way this opponent did!"

  Everyone was shocked by the amount of adrenaline that was rushing through the human before them, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation continuing to stew in everyone’s minds. Still, it was even more surprising that the most robust and most gargantuan Draken in the tavern had appeared and heard out a challenge from such a lowlife everyone had just met.

  There was a moment of silence between all of them, and she chuckled softly. "Okay. If that is what you want, then I accept it. Good luck to you."

  Oberon bowed. "You as well."

  From the intel he had heard from the whispers, he knew what some of her features were. And since Oberon learned lessons about colors and genders in Drakens he remembered what the professor said.

  Purple, the color of royalty and power, is the rarest color a Draken can have. It only belongs to queens and princesses, not to be handled by the hands of males. It grants insurmountable authority to those wielding it as well as great power. Not only that, but Oberon started counting her talons. One, two, three, four… five. Not only that, but her thumbs were on the opposing sides, facing outwards. A genetic freak of nature. This Draken was no mere child but rather a one-woman army that he was dealing with right now. There had to be centuries of experience behind these scales, and even thinking with all the facts in place, he was not going to stop his journey right here with his tail between his legs even if he had one; no, he was determined to get the information he needed in his quest, even if it required excessive force. Oberon had gotten this far, and he was not planning to stop at just this. All the Drakens gathered together to observe the most extraordinary battle that would ever be known in the history of both worlds. A boy, barely even into adulthood, donned in armor fighting a being more than ten times his size, having weapons built into her hands and a presence nobody was willing to defy… The two got up to their positions as everyone got prepared and comfortable.

  Without any further consent from the bartender, he looked around, worried about the challenge that he had set going to its logical limit. The giant Draken stepped up, setting her elbow on the table. She was much too tall unlike the previous contender, so she had to lie down on the wooden floor. As Oberon prepared his limb to make sure everything was good to go, he took notice and saw that her thumb was on the opposite side as he put his corparative twig of a forearm against her cold paw. The Knight was certainly muscular for his age, but even he knew that it may not stand that much of a chance if his opposition had the width of trees for arms. Her talons felt like the hard metal doors of the guild, and her scales were rough and scarred, the sensation running through his calloused hand. It was a sensation of formality and habituation and he could feel the raw power despite no sudden movements but amongst everything, he felt the most that stood out was, well, some type of fear?

  Her expression was unmoving, but there was still something she was scared of, despite no natural indication. The Knight’s soul told him that this Draken had something dwelling on the back of her mind, but the dreamy feeling faded as he got into the mindset of the battle.

  "Are you ready, human?" She spoke. “I will start progressively increasing my threshold of strength against you. I am not stopping until you are out of bounds or incapacitated.”

  He nodded solemnly. “Likewise,” waiting for her following actions. The bartender watched, laughing nervously as he had no control over their situation. They were all on their own to play, as the other Drakens watched with the greatest interest. Surely the might of either would clash significantly or was there to see another one-sided defeat?

  "Ready-"

  She flexed her talons preemptively, and he readied his palm. They both looked at each other. There was a whole lot of bridled rage inside of them waiting to spill out, but nothing could stop them from exhibiting honor.

  "Set-"

  They both began to build up a force before they even started.

  "Go!" They both said, their voices echoing through the wooden walls. The force caused a small gust of wind and it blew away every Draken and their expectations, as the battle seemingly continued despite differences in dimensions of size. Everyone growled and flicked their tongues, inspecting the battle intensely. There were fair amounts of vigor against him, but The Knight already had gotten his warmup with the first Draken and increased the intensity of pressure in his frying pan of a hand, whereas his opponent did not falter to his counter. She fought every inch of his power as if it were nothing.

  She chuckled. “Is that all you have for me?”

  "Ah, so you want to get serious?" He said, gritting his teeth as he fought for dominance.

  Her other paw tapped on the stone floor, needle-like nails tapping on the floor and making scratching sounds sharper than swords in a skirmish. "I am only waiting for you to continue to intensify this battle, knight of the kingdoms. Eventually, your time will come though."

  "Are you sure? You are dealing with a shark here, my friend."

  She laughed. "Ha! A shark to a shark, then this shall be pleasant!"

  He grinned belligerently. "Then so be it."

  Her arm grew more substantial and shaky, enough to the point where her veins were starting to sticking out. Despite her petite and luscious form, there was the power behind it, a rare combination that could win any man’s heart, surely if for a Draken. A princess, but with her own personal arsenal, waiting to be unleashed. This was about to get messy quickly if he did not pull out an ace out of his sleeve.

  Oberon struggled to keep up and he was beginning to falter in the battle of wits and strength. His grip was loosening and he was being pushed over the edge. She was not joking; I suppose I will have to use my secret ability! He thought, forcing himself to the limit before realizing it would be futile if he only kept up like this.

  His brain released stimuli that coursed through his veins, and the world around him grew ever darker as his body began bending and bulging out of control. The Draken blood that was mixed with his human cell build began to spark, and his armor was cracking and booming. As a warrior, he hated using this ability, as his interest in chivalry and swordsmanship were all helooked

  “Let yourself be controlled, your fury will keep you intact.”

  Oberon could sense the dismay of everyone in the room as his sentience began to leave his body, losing a sense of what was right and what was wrong anymore. His blood ran colder than the rivers in wintertime, leaving him in a state of berserk, and like snowfall, it snowballed and it built up. He could feel unlimited power coming to him as he commanded it, welling and swelling his unit of a body. This was his final crusade in this battle, and he would not stop until his determination and stamina pulled through this grand fight.

  And with that, his frame grew exponentially more enormous, the iron bindings on his body snapping loose and breaking, shattering at the force of his new form. The armor shot like bullets to the floor and the Draken in the crowd as if it were just another layer to his divinity in Drakenhood and humanity, everyone watching with comically large expressions, some covering themselves to ensure they would not get shot by his pieces of metal flying off. He wanted to laugh to his heart's content to ease everyone down, but his pride was on the line and every part of his brain was focused on throwing this Draken’s arm to the floor. The Knight seethed with delectation. He had never fought such a feasible yet impossible opponent, and it was driving him mad, and he kne deep down it was not really making him any better than what he set out to be separated from, but he flowed with what his heart wanted, and his heart wanted thrills.

  His opponent was shocked as well, and her guard was lowered. It only phased her slightly, but it was still a small breakthrough to her powerful mind, and they both chuckled in apprehension. He had quite a lead on her now, and he was about to deal the final blow until she pulled and pushed further, concentrating hard. Oberon could tell she was working up a sweat and that she was actually trying her best now, and so was he. But at that moment, when the Draken’s mind was opened for a split second, he felt something saddening. The sense of fear that he realized only before the battle, the feeling that he knew about this entire time but chose to disregard for his own satisfaction. The feeling everyone in this room least expected to sense, the feeling that nobody else had picked up until he made it real at that very moment.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Could it be that the Drakeness was not actually that formidable and that she was simply putting up an act like he was, trying to appease the masses? He kept going and going but the intuition he had at the beginning was starting to show itself more clearly.

  It was not fear that he thought it was in the beginning. It was loneliness. She only had a couple of significant individuals in her life, but other than that, in all her centuries of living she experienced heavy emotional pain that had not healed, and he finally saw through her mirage. Everyone she met was too scared or submissive to continue talking to her because of her rather strange and ominous presence, and the only friendly Drakens in her life were the ones higher in power; her parents. He was hit with relatable grief that could not be ignored as he shared her conflict for a moment, knowing that she had not found many friends she could trust and be herself with.

  She was like him.

  But then, all of a sudden in the middle of his thoughts, The Knight's arm cramped as he exited the trance, and suddenly he gave out by accident. Her arm ended up going so far down that it broke the furniture they were battling on, sending wooden shrapnel as a sudden wrap to their battle. Oberon’s arm was perfectly fine, but since his rage was suppressed for a moment, he went flying along with her hand, being slammed into the ground at the speed of sound. Oberon coughed, blood flying out of his mouth as his back went back into shape, as he laid on the floor shirtless. Everyone watched in a stupor of oblivion. The battle had concluded, and Roselia was the winner of their competition.

  "Not the table!" The bartender yelled. Everyone released the imaginary breath they were holding in. Everyone clapped honorably, praising Oberon for his efforts.

  Oberon got up and dusted himself off, feeling his muscles shrink again into his more athletic form. "Well I must say. Good slam, madam!" The Knight suffered no breaks or punctures, but he certainly took quite the blow as he took a moment to breathe and stretch out his muscles. The Drakeness nudged him up her claw as she looked at him, satisfied that her opponent was worthy and principled. “Thank you, kind knight.”

  But the victory of the Drakeness was short-lived as a sound and scent of wood broke the air, leaving everyone disturbed. The wood, underneath Oberon and his opponent, had broken to pieces in the span of a second and the whole floor collapsed. He used his strengthened foot to push off the wood board, springing onto safety. The Draken looked around in dismay, panicking and trying to grab something for leverage, and Oberon thought she would be okay as she grabbed a part of the cliff in the wood, but to no avail as it snapped, as she kept falling in stopped time. Worse, as he could barely tell, there were sharp rocks at the bottom waiting to pierce her body. Oberon, without hesitation, dashed forward with a great speed across the expanse, and took her scaly forearm with his fleshed-out hand, slightly cutting himself to her claws and her needle-like body in the process. The Knight grimaced but persisted in the unpleasant situation as he began to lift what could easily be a ton or two, using his other hand for more support. The Draken watched as she was left in awe, hypnotized by his perseverance. She felt as if this was truly the first time that anyone had ever stuck out a limb for her… literally, but also figureatively.

  “I… have… it… under control!” With one hefty heave and a swing using all his inertia, he threw her whole, massive, scaly dragon body upwards onto a safer destination where she slid across the floor. The large purple Draken took a deep breath, then calmed down after mere seconds. They all cheered in anticipation after Oberon’s heroic act. The battle was hard-fought, an accident was avoided, and everyone was happy with the sheer excitement in the set of events that had just occurred. Well, all except for the poor lad who had his finger snapped.

  She looked at him shyly, pawing her shoulder a bit in discomfort. "Thanks… even if I have wings and I would have been fine, I do appreciate your help." Oberon could tell by her movements that she was lying partially about how little she had control over the situation and that she was ridiculously embarrassed, but he nodded despite the circumstances. "Anything to help a damsel in distress," he replied.

  He decided it would be better to leave his book and map in his greaves for right now before leaving the tavern. It was a sad sight to see, but alas, he was defeated, and his mind was once again his while his muscles shrunk down in size after saving Roselia, and he had really exhausted his Draken blood by flaring up twice. His quest would still continue despite his shortcomings. The whole crowd turned away so that the two could discuss matters privately. "So, you were saying, young knight?" She said, triumphant about her recent fight. “What is the secret behind your power and your ancestry?”

  Oberon looked at her in amusement. “I go by the name of Oberon. And yes! I forgot that was why we were battling in the first place. That, I will show you soon. But…" he paused. She might have some kind of connection to the village’s death. I have a feeling she will help me out, he randomly guessed. I have a good feeling about this. "If you can, before I show you, may you also accompany me on my quest, supposed mistress of Drakens?"

  Her face became frivolous, completely unexpected to him as she appeared more menacing and even somewhat evil before their battle. "M-mistress?!" She looked away for a moment, ignoring his question, clearly showing signs of a firm personality that could be broken with unexpected responses. "Why would you even call me that after you saved me? That… no, just call me Roselia."

  Oberon tilted his head. "But why not? I think you are worthy of higher authority."

  She stuck her forked tongue out, giving him a look of disrelish. "That just sounds like you are my servant, or worse like it has some kind of carnal intention- forget it. Why do you want me to come on this adventure of yours?"

  "Because, my lady-" he noticed her shift her legs around a bit, acting aloof- "you seem rather isolated and forlorn... Am I correct?" She flinched as if a sword was driven through her heart. The way she was being too weird about this whole conversation just really told him how driven she was social interaction. Right on target, I knew I could not be wrong. Oberon had noticed it before when he was battling with her, but he was too busy to point it out at the scene.

  She dismissed his attempt to dig into her. “Are you part Draken, Oberon?”

  Now it was Oberon’s turn to be taken by surprise. Aaron told me I should not tell other people about my identity, but he never said anything about other Drakens. “How did you know?”

  “Pfft.” She sat down, eyeing him over as she touched his little Draken wings that dangled on his head. “I had a feeling you had some kind of power. Did you read my mind when we were fighting?”

  “No… why?”

  “Some Drakens, especially eastern ones, have access to powers of the lightning element. From there, if they are powerful enough, they can read minds through electricity!” She was clearly enjoying the opportunity to explain this. However, Roselia’s enjoyment quickly wilted as she once again seemed to acknowledge what she had ignored. "It is true. I have been rather lonely, especially since the only Draken I talk with on a daily basis is Avrid; he is my messenger and my butler… or at least he tries to be. I am really not quite sure. To be truthful, you are the only person to look me in the eyes like that. Everyone was overly compliant, but you acted like I was not a threat! Everyone else is just too scared, or they are too afraid they are going to be hurt." She tapped her talons together, making an odd metallic sound as she gave him a genuinely gleeful and toothy grin that probably did not look very happy at all and instead looked like she was bearing all her fangs in an attempt to show how hungry she was. Her deeper villainous voice probably did not help either. “As a display of my gratitude for saving me and showing me a good time, I will gladly accompany you on your journey, Oberon.”

  This is great! I can get more access to other parts and areas quicker now if she lets me fly with her! With Roselia helping me, I should be able to solve this mystery in a heartbeat. Oberon questioned why her tail and claws were metal in the first place as he had noticed at first, but it was probably something more personal, and he did not want to delve too much into it especially after their recent events. After so much tension, even he was ready to tuck in for the night. “That is great news! I hope we may do well together on my mission. I will discuss the quest with you another time, but I must be going. My kingdom needs me.” Oberon put his hand on her paw. "I am here for you if you need me."

  "I will take that into account. Thank you." Roselia chuckled, a slight blush on her face. “Also, you may want to fix your armor. Everyone is giving you funny looks.”

  It only took a moment as Oberon pinpointed where she was looking and forgot that he lost the upper half of his armor by blowing it to smithereens with his buff muscles. He was indeed exposed to the world, even if he was showing his manly pectorals and biceps.

  "Heavens, I forgot!" He shouted unexpectedly, trying to avert any extra awkwardness. "I have to go right away! Excuse me!"

  "But wait, Knight!"

  Oberon turned around to face her.

  "When will we meet again?"

  The Knight took a moment to process her response. "I promise I will be here next week to discuss more, my mistress! Same day, same time." And with that, he left out the door hurriedly.

  That was way more than I bargained for, but thank goodness I am alive! I did not think I would feel the light of day again. His brain was not thinking clearly at that moment as he had never been in a situation that involved so many Drakens and fights. Oberon began to run without a care in the world, as usual, sliding down the mountain as fast as possible without looking back. The journey was only beginning though, and he could not deny that the progress he was making gave him a sense of justice to exact as he ran back home, leaping across the open fields back to the Kingdom Of Dirawin.

  It was a wonderful day outside.

  People were talking, the kingdom booming…

  On days like these, knights like Oberon would be walking around aimlessly, practicing some fighting skills, or helping their families with their chores off-duty.

  Instead, Oberon was looking around for suitable clothing covering his upper half as the number of suspicious looks he got increased tenfold, and he tried his best to impersonate a gladiator in hopes of not looking like a fool. Maybe Targa has an idea of where I could get something to cover these manly abs! Because one thing is for sure, it is not every day people see a young man with abnormally fit muscles… and also probably because no knight would wear only a helmet and leggings. At least my helmet is still intact.

  The Knight knocked on Targa's door nonchalantly, and after waiting a while, instead of seeing the man himself, he opened up to see Targa's parents.

  The old lady looked at him funny. "Why on earth do you have no shirt?"

  Oberon sighed. "It is quite a long story. Is Targa there?"

  The older man called his name, and later, The Knight felt vibrations of a large walking behemoth, and surely enough, it was Targa.

  Targa gave him a strange look. "Why do you not have a shirt? Oh, oh wait… you do not have to tell me! You are totally my new fanatic are you not?”

  Oberon got a little angry. "What?! Why would I be your fanatic of all things?! Also, wait, come to think of it why does everyone not think you look weird without a shirt?"

  They all shrugged.

  "All right, all right, calm down,” Targa replied. “It will probably be better if you come inside and explain it to us. And luckily, we do have some spare clothing. Tell us what happened.”

  ...

  "So basically…" Targa started. "A Draken took your armor and clothes while you were washing up, and you never found them again. And you think this all happened in just a moment’s notice?"

  "I know, crazy, right?" Oberon was pretending to be hysterical. "Also, thanks for the black shirt," he mentioned casually.

  Targa looked at him sternly. "This is the first and last time you will ever get a shirt and gloves from us."

  The room was silent with tautness. The Knight coughed as he choked up his subsequent response similar to the last one he made. "Does that mean you can give me a chestpla-"

  Targa sighed and interrupted him before he could finish. "Do you even know what a job is?"

  "I have no clue," The Knight deduced.

  "You signed up to be an adventurer, and you do not even know what a job is? How are you even okay right now?" He scoffed. "Seriously, you must have been born in the outlands or something." Oberon really wanted to say where he was from, but of course he held his response back to keep himself safe.

  Targa took out a pouch of metallic objects. "A job is a type of work you can do to earn money. Money is simply a way for you to earn things as you do your tasks. They look like this." Targa handed Oberon a tiny silver coin. “If you do work, get these coins that you can then exchange for goods and services. We know this as… currency. Some of them are worth more than other ones.”

  "How much is this one in particular worth?" He asked, curious about this so-called ‘money.’

  "This silver one is worth about a day's wage or so. Enough to get you a couple of meals, depends. You will figure it out in due time. If you bring me three silver coins, I will make you a fresh new set of armor. Blacksmithing is my specialty so you are in luck, although it probably will look nothing like your old one." Oberon handed the coin back.

  "All right, thanks." He bowed respectfully. "I will be heading out, and thank you again!"

  "Good luck, Oberon." And with that, he left the premise to figure out his newfound ‘job.’