Heavy boots echoed along the cobbled streets as the nameless knight walked through the city, the baby dragon nestled against his chest. Its small head peeked out from beneath his cloak, blowing gentle puffs of smoke with each sleepy breath.
He grumbled quietly as he moved, doing what he always did helping those in need. He pushed a merchant's cart out of a ditch. He caught a fleeing thief with one hand and set him down gently at a guard's feet. He lifted a fallen beam from an old woman's doorway.
People stared not at his strength, but at the creature clinging to his armor.
"Is that a dragon?"
"It's with him?"
"Wait... is Mr. Knight raising a dragon?!"
"That's... actually kinda cute."
He sighed through his helm, visibly annoyed by the growing attention, and quickened his pace toward the palace.
Inside the Throne Room
Laughter rang through the royal hall.
"You you a father?" The King roared, nearly falling off his throne. "The man who cleaved a wyvern battalion in half is now cradling a baby dragon?"
The knight stood motionless. The hatchling was curled up on his chestplate, head poking out under his cloak, blinking slowly at the crowd.
"I didn't choose this," the knight muttered.
The royal children surrounded him in awe.
"Can I pet it?"
"Does it breathe fire yet?"
The hatchling gave a tiny growl and snapped playfully, missing on purpose. The children only giggled louder.
The King wiped tears from his eyes, finally catching his breath. "And aside from becoming a parent, do you have any other business today?"
"None, King," the knight replied.
"Excellent." The King straightened. "I need you to retrieve my eldest son's ceremonial sword. The dwarves still have it, deep in the mountain range."
The knight nodded once and turned to leave.
Just Outside the Throne Room.
As the heavy doors closed behind him, one of the guards leaned toward the King, speaking low.
"Your Majesty... that man. Mr. Knight he's a one-man army right. One of the most powerful beings on the continent. Why is he allowed to roam freely?"
The King's smile faded into something deeper. Thoughtful.
"Because his kind ," the King said. " and Not not drunk from his power."
Then he turned to a nearby messenger.
"Send word use the fastest eagle we have."
"To whom, sire?" the messenger asked.
The King looked toward the sky beyond the palace window, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.
"To her," he said. "Tell her: Mr. Knight is coming.
And make sure it flies fast."