A shadow loomed against an endless sky, its wings blotting out the sun. A blade of crimson light arced toward it, and then---flames, searing and all-consuming. The clash of a sword against hard scales rang throughout the world. Those below looked on in worry.
"Is he gonna win?" One said in worry
"He has to win." Another said
"He's the only hope mankind has."
With a small blue shield covering him, the man survived a breath of black dragon's fire. Glistening with sweat, his gaze fixed on the dragon, a fierce resolve burning in his eyes. He caught his breath, murmuring, "That was too close." His glance shifted to the sword in his hand, its blade forged from the crystalline bone of a Phoenix, shimmering with a faint crimson hue. Its beauty was a stark contrast to the destruction around him.
"I'm glad you're holding up Chicken Strip." The sword rang in a sad but grateful tone.
Beyond the sight of his sword, was once his home, now a desolated city with patches of black fire. "I've done what I can, I'll risk my life in this next move and give it my all". Flooding his body and sword with as much energy as possible. He looked back at the black dragon and pointed his sword. The dragon looked haggard but ready, for the final clash. Gathering up its own power it started racing towards him. With as much strength as he could, the man used a move like the flick of a feather, light, fast, and gentle. The dragon roared in response and gathered its fire in its' maw. Upon their clash the light flashed, and they stood on alternate sides again. The dragons wing slowly fell off, and the people below cheered for its defeat. When they looked at their hero, they discovered that half his body was on engulfed in fire.
Gregory woke up with a start. "What a strange dream," Gregory muttered, running a hand through his scruffy hair. "Dreams are just the mind's way of processing things... nothing to worry about." But his brow furrowed as the vivid images lingered. Shaking his head, he looked to his left at his sleeping wife and smiled in happiness.
"Aaaaaahhhhhh!!!!" A scream was heard coming from his son's room.
"Azur!!!" Jumping out of bed disturbing the soundly sleeping Rayla, Greg raced towards Azur's room. Did they find me, why would they be after Azur. To black mail me. The government promised to keep this a secret, I'm nothing more than a standard soldier in the military in their database and their books. Prone to overthinking Greg busted into his sons' room to find Azur crying in his bed. Quickly checking the room, making sure the windows were locked and nothing was amiss, he walked towards his son and asked, "What's wrong Azur, is everything okay?"
"I I I I I…. had a lot of bad dreams." Azur cried out
"Oh, son it'll be alright, it's all over now, you've woken up."
Azur clung to his father's shirt, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't wake up before it... before it got me." His eyes brimmed with tears. "It felt so real."
Once the adrenaline wore off, Greg picked up his son while saying "I'm sorry you had to go through that. Wanna sleep with Mommy and me?".
"Ye ye yeah."
"I had a bad dream to son"
"You did?"
"Yup, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."
"Oooo okay. Ummmm, I had a lot of bad dreams, in one I was a bird."
Hugging his son close to him Greg carried him back to his room and spoke with his wife about what happened.
"Daddy tell me yours, I can't remember much of mine."
"If you practice you can remember a lot of your dreams, let's see, it started out with a man with a beautiful sword name Chicken Strip."
Bursting into laughter Azur said, "Chicken Strip, he named his sword chicken strip."
"Yeah, I thought it was funny too."
With Greg telling the rest of his dream, they went to bed peacefully.
In the morning, "I want chicken strips…"
With slight frustration Rayla looked towards Greg with piercing eyes.
"Alright, alright. I'll make breakfast today. What do you say about chicken strips and waffles?"
"Yaaaay"
On that day, 20 years ago, was the last day I saw my father.