Finally at the entrance of the Den of Damnation, Sir Cromwell of the Blue’s solo mission to slay the fearsome beast that took shelter inside was almost over. Even the entrance to it was foreboding, the opening to the cave tall and narrow, dark smoke seeping through the cracks between each crevasse. Slipping the visor of his metal helmet over his eyes, he entered the cavern cautiously.

He snuck around each twist and turn of the dark maze as he made a mental map of the area, expecting to be ambushed at any moment. Cromwell finally entered a large, dim chamber, illuminated only by a sliver of sunlight that bled into the inky black. He drew his sword slowly, careful to not alert the monster to his presence. He sidled around the jagged walls of the room, taking a guarded stance.

“Who goes there?” bellowed the creature of the cave, its voice echoing off the large space. The knight took a deep breath, bracing himself, then shouted back, “I’m here to plunge my sword through your heart, beast! Now reveal yourself!”

“As you wish, human.”

There was a burst of orange and white light that rippled through the area, bringing a great heat with it. And there it was.

Large, outstretched wings reflected the fiery light off the coal-black scales. The skin stretched between the digits of the limbs were redder than the hottest of flames. Fearsome claws gripped the cave floor tightly. Its long, muscular tail trashed back and forth, and formed on the end of it, a blade-shaped scale.

As Cromwell scanned the features of his foe, his gaze landed on the massive, golden, cat-like eyes that had suddenly opened. They almost seemed to glow in the light of the dragon’s fiery breath.

The imposing animal’s face softened quickly, and it bent down to give him a good look. Silently it moved, now face to face with the knight, staring at him with great interest. Sir Cromwell’s battle-ready posture faltered slightly, and he lowered his sword the faintest bit. Before he knew it, his blade was swiped out of his hands, clattering across the edge of visibility and into the darkness. 

“Where are your troops, little one?” The dragon asked gently as it touched its snout to Cromwell’s chest, making him stumble back.

“I have none,” He began with a shaking voice, “For I am a great knight, and could slay you all on my own!”

“Without a sword?”

Cromwell hesitated. The dragon took his silence as its answer.

“Ah, well that won’t do,” It scooped him up in its mighty claws, holding him close to its chest as it walked toward the opening that it had probably come from, “You may call me Mother. I have taken great care of your other human companions.” She laughed, a loud rumble emanating from her chest.

She brought him around a large boulder, and light flooded the knight’s vision. There, in an undiscovered clearing, was every single person that had ever gone missing. All of them were assumed to be dead in the kingdom, and a few of them, he recognized. The other humans, clean and happy-looking, cheered.

Sir Cromwell of the Blue, was now just Cromwell. And apparently, he was a son!