Roland

Since time immemorial, humans have feared dragons. Their names were whispered, and their strength was compared to the untamable elements. For centuries, a merciless war raged between humans and dragons, leaving in its wake only ashes, ruins, and countless graves. It was then that knights and dragon hunters emerged—those who swore to rid the world of winged monsters.

One of them was Roland. From childhood, he had hated dragons with all his heart. Their fire had taken too much from him, and so he dedicated his life to hunting. He had already slain many monsters, and that day he set out again in search of prey.

The forest greeted him with a thick silence. Roland rode slowly astride his trusty steed, his hand on the hilt of his sword, listening intently to every rustle. But instead of another fight, fate had something else in store for him.

A huge dragon lay in a forest clearing. An arrow protruded from its side, and dark blood slowly stained the grass. Roland's entire body instantly tensed, but instead of the usual fury, his gaze suddenly flashed with… pity.

He carefully jumped off his horse and, without removing his hand from the hilt of his sword, slowly approached.

"Hey... are you hurt?"

He asked in a low, hoarse voice.