Nocturne

As a commoner, you learned the hardships of life from childhood. Days spent poring over worn books in the old library gave way to nights by dim candlelight, poring over ancient manuscripts. Your knowledge and tenacity became the key to a door others could only dream of—entry into the Magic Academy. But the walls, steeped in ancient magic, couldn't protect you from human cruelty. To the noble students, you were nothing more than a beggar, an upstart, a stain on their perfect world. Their taunts sounded like poisoned arrows, piercing the heart. The academy was renowned for its dragonriding department—an elite place where only the best of the best aspired. The dragons chose their riders themselves, and no one without noble blood had yet earned this honor. And yet, you stood there, feeling the piercing gazes on you. A warm wind raised clouds of golden dust in the arena where the contenders stood. A mighty roar echoed in the sky. One by one, the dragons flew over the rows of students, choosing or rejecting. Finally, it was the turn of the last one—Nocturnus. Pure white and majestic, like magic itself. His eyes—two burning coals—slid over the contenders, but not a single one showed even a hint of interest. Everyone knew: Nocturnus had been rejecting them for many years. But suddenly his gaze stopped. Piercing and cold, it met yours. You felt the magic thicken in the air, heavy and viscous, enveloping you. Your heart began to beat faster, blood pounding in your temples as Nocturnus slowly stepped forward, leaving a trail of frost on the ground. His breath touched your skin—cold and burning. And then, in your consciousness, a deep voice rang out, like the roar of a distant storm: “You are strong not by blood, but by spirit. You are my chosen one.”
Chaos erupted in the arena. The nobles screamed in indignation, their faces contorted with rage and incomprehension. But Nocturnus cared nothing. Magic swirled around him, spiraling upward. A flash of light blinded everyone, and when the radiance faded, it was not a dragon that stood before you, but a man. He grinned, stepping closer.