The world population is rapidly depleting, and we sit around, unaware of the quiet shifts in fate gathering beyond the horizon.
A young Dragonkin, dressed in Qitoran ceremony robes and standing around 5'10, is running through the mountains and jumping through the clouds as fast as possible, his legs burning, the cold fall wind burning his eyes.
He looks no different than the rest of the Qitorans—muscular, with brown hair, silver eyes, around 6 ft tall, and all sorts of jewelry covering his body that clinks softly with each step.
As he makes his way down from his house near the top of the steps, he passes the armory and merchant quarters.
General Idkrix, a Salaciean recruit sent in exchange for protection, is already working in the armory.
There are three separate types of Dragonkin—Qitoran, Salaciean, and Devalonians—and they look the same in every way except for eyes and hair.
See, the Qitorans generally have brown hair and grey eyes, the Devalonians have white hair and emerald eyes, and the Salacieans, like General Idkrix, are blonde-haired with red eyes.
Of course, there are mixed Dragonkin as well, so that leads to some color variations in the hair, but you can always tell their kin ancestry by the eyes.
The differences are subtle but unmistakable up close, like faint brushstrokes of lineage embedded in the eyes.
The young Dragonkin speeds past the armory when General Idkrix yells,
"Hey, Venshind, where you goin' this early?"
"Gotta find Arsheo, our Deiju is today!"
The young man explains as he keeps running, breath escaping him in short white puffs.
See, in Qitor, the people are naturally warriors from birth, so as soon as a Qitoran turns of age, they go through a ceremony of warriors called Deiju Drathar.
This doesn't mean they just started fighting, however, as Qitorans learn how to use every weapon by the age of 13.
On his way to find his kezhan, he runs into his father and older brother.
"Izha, Dozha, have you seen Arsheo?"
"I'm not sure where he went,"
says Vidrand, the young man's older brother, a Qitoran with sandy blonde hair and red eyes.
"I think he went to the cliffs earlier; he's probably just training like he has been since we brought him here,"
explains his father, Oktath, the 1st General of Qitor and a full Qitoran with brown hair and silver eyes.
"Okay, I'll go look for him there then. Thanks, Dozha!"
Venshind says to his father.
On his way down to the cliffs, he passes by the housing district filled with amazing rock houses that have glow rock roofs, which emanate a bright orange glow that lights up the city, casting warm reflections across polished stone paths.
The sight—no doubt wondrous to visitors—doesn't even make the young Dragonkin bat an eye as he speeds toward his friend and brother.
As he gets closer to the outermost barrier known as the cliffs, he yells,
"Arsheo! It's time to meet at the Great Hall for our Deiju ceremony! Let's go become official Dragon Knights now! King Keorthogg is waiting at the Great Hall!"
Venshind quietly awaits a response from his kezhan, but it seems almost too quiet—so quiet that the young man gets nervous.
As the sounds fade into silence, Venshind's appearance quickly changes from carefree to worried when he says to himself,
We never learned to use flight yet. What if he came too close to the cliff and fell? We're thousands of feet in the air!
He quickly runs over to the edge of the cliff and tries to yell for Arsheo when a young Dragonkin, around the same age as Venshind, rockets from below the cliff.
In the confusion, Venshind grabs his knife and yells,
"Get ready for battle! We're under attack!"
A short distance behind him, he starts to hear laughing, so he quickly turns around.
The laughter echoes sharp against the cliff walls, and as soon as he turns around—embarrassed—it was Oktath, Vidrand, and Arsheo.
They were playing a trick on him this entire time, and he fell for it like a fish to bait; he is the most gullible in the family after all.
"What the hell, guys! I was seriously about to hurt someone—I charged up my special attack and all!"
Venshind exclaims, as serious as ever.
The three burst into laughter once again after hearing their gullible family member's statement, their laughter rolling through the open air like a chorus of bells.
Amid all the laughter, Arsheo chimes in as if he was imitating Venshind's voice,
"What the hell, you guys! I charged up my secret move! Ha ha ha!"
The group falls to the floor from laughing so hard, clutching their stomachs and wheezing between breaths.
"I'm sorry, Venshind. You're always so tense before a big event, so I got Dozhan and Izhan here to help break the tension. I hope you aren't too mad,"
says the tall and impressive Arsheo.
Arsheo is the adopted member in this young Dragon family.
Arsheo is a fiery red, curly-haired 6'2.
He has golden eyes and an incredibly muscular body, even for Dragonkin.
Oktath found him near the bottom of the mountain that Qitor sits on top of and took him in to raise as his own.
The family of five is a close-knit family, and though they didn't know the exact kin he originated from, they assumed his parents were most likely nomadic dragons who died to a beast and quickly made him a permanent member of the family.
A choice that shaped all their futures.
"I'm not mad at all. I just want to know who taught you to fly and why they didn't teach me,"
says Venshind furiously.
"You definitely sound mad—you can't hide it from me. I won't tell you till you aren't mad anymore and you promise not to lie again,"
Arsheo continues to tease Venshind.
"Just tell me already, you Grelith! I'm tired of your games!"
Venshind bursts out, his voice cracking between frustration and embarrassment.
"Is that any way to talk to a person that you've never beat in Izthal?
I guess I'll teach you how to speak with restraint so nobody else has to,"
Arsheo boldly states as they both put their hands under their ceremonial robes to draw their weapons, the tension between them sparking like flint.
"Calm down, boys—is that any way to act on the day of your adulting ceremony?"
They hear as murderous aura floods the area, heavy enough to make the hairs on their arms stand straight.
"We need to head to the Great Hall now. We wasted too much time on this silly prank.
And to stop your bickering, I taught Arsheo how to fly.
He should learn as much as possible before the ceremony because he could grow to a general's size during the ritual.
That would mean he's likely to take a military position immediately,"
firmly explains Vidrand to his kezhans while they traverse up the steps to the highest point of the kingdom, the castle of Qitor, where the Great Hall is located, the climb steep and echoing with distant winds.