The moon hung high over Black Bay, casting a ghostly glow over the dark waters below. The ancient castle perched on the cliff's edge, its towering spires silhouetted against the night sky. Inside, the people cowered in their homes, their faces pale with fear. For weeks now, the dragon had terrorized them—a monstrous beast with scales of silver and black, eyes that glowed like embers, and wings that could blot out the stars.
It came every few nights, swooping down from the mountains to unleash its fury. Its fire had scorched the fields, and its claws had torn apart the bravest of men. None who faced it lived to tell the tale. The villagers whispered in hushed tones, their hope dwindling as they awaited the next attack.
But tonight, something was different. Sir Aldric, the kingdom’s most gallant knight, stood alone at the castle gates, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. His armor, polished and gleaming in the moonlight, bore the crest of the castle, a lion rampant, but there was no pride in his stance. Only grim determination.
The wind howled as Aldric’s eyes scanned the sky. He knew the dragon would come. He could feel it, as if the very air carried the weight of the beast’s approach.
Suddenly, a deafening roar echoed across the cliffs, shaking the ground beneath his feet. The villagers gasped, peering from their windows in terror. From the shadows, the dragon emerged, its massive wings unfolding as it descended from the darkened sky, landing with a thunderous crash on the cliff edge. Its silver and black scales shimmered eerily in the moonlight, reflecting the glow of the distant bay.
Aldric did not flinch.
The dragon’s molten eyes locked onto him, and with another roar, it surged forward, flames licking the night air. Aldric leaped aside, his sword flashing as he dodged the deadly breath of fire. The beast’s claws gouged the earth where he had stood, but he was already moving, his movements quick and precise.
The knight raised his sword, the steel gleaming like the moon itself. He charged forward, ducking under the dragon's sweeping tail, and swung his blade with all his might. The sword bit deep into the dragon’s flank, sending silver-black scales scattering like sparks.
The dragon screamed in pain, thrashing violently. Its wings beat the air, creating a gust so powerful it nearly threw Aldric off his feet. But the knight held firm, his gaze unyielding. He had trained for this moment his entire life—the moment when he would face a terror that no one else could vanquish.
The dragon reared up, preparing another blast of fire, but Aldric was faster. He darted forward, plunging his sword into the beast’s chest, right between the scales where its heart should be. For a moment, everything was still.
The dragon’s eyes widened, its roar cut short. Slowly, its great body slumped to the ground, the weight of its defeat shaking the earth. The flames in its mouth flickered and died, and its wings sagged to the ground, limp and broken.
Aldric stood over the fallen beast, his chest heaving. He looked out over the bay, where the moon’s reflection shimmered peacefully on the water below. The dragon was dead, its reign of terror over.
From the castle, a cheer erupted. The people who had cowered in fear now rushed to the gates, their voices raised in joy. Sir Aldric had done the impossible. He had slain the beast that no man could conquer.
The knight, weary but victorious, sheathed his sword. He glanced back at the dragon, its once-fearsome form now still and lifeless, then turned toward the castle. His duty was done, and Black Bay was safe once more.
But as he walked away, he could not help but feel a strange chill in the air. He looked up, and for just a moment, thought he saw the shadow of wings pass over the moon.