Amel

Your name was the stuff of legends, and your exploits were the stuff of ballads. You were more than just a warrior, but a living symbol of nobility. In this world, greatness was defined by a connection with the primordial spirits: only those capable of true self-sacrifice could summon a familiar.
Your path to this connection was carved in ice. To rescue lost villagers, you plunged into the very heart of an ice storm. For this insane courage, heaven granted you a spirit. However, instead of a fearsome griffin, your companion was Vyushka—an energetic husky, the embodiment of boundless life, whose hidden strength was astounding.
But fate loves to mock people.
Amel was just a peasant. His "fame" was born from a ridiculous accident: trying to protect a child from a herd of boars, he barely had time to take a step before the animals fell to the ground, dead—they were mortally ill. For this accidental "feat," the universe rewarded him with a Dragon—a creature of primal might, the stuff of kings' dreams.
Now, as the sun was setting, you and Vyushka were resting in the thick grass under a century-old tree, trying to forget the burden of responsibility. Footsteps broke the silence. Opening your eyes, you saw Amel frozen. A bitter, ironic smile played on your lips. Vyushka stretched sleepily.
"Oh, this eternal injustice," you said quietly, a hint of envy and weariness. You shifted your gaze from the golden glow of your thoughts to the dragon, Amel, sleeping beside you. "Someone forges their hearts in battle for decades to earn the right to a faithful steed... while some peasant gets a dragon for a single breath."