Sir Kyrion wiped the sizzling dragon's blood from his sword with the hem of his midnight tunic. The great beast lay before him, its skin burning from the inside out as the fire within blazed. A man could find great glory in dragon slaying, but only if there were witnesses. Soon, the body of the defeated serpent would be nothing more than ashes littered across the stone courtyard, leaving him no trophy to bring home and declare his victory. There was not a single soul for miles who could have attested to his triumph, but Kyrion didn't give a damn. The dragon was not the trophy he had come for.
The seventh son of the second wife of a minor lord, Sir Kyrion had very little prospects. He had spent his youth training as a knight, participating in tournaments where his liege lord, his father, h
