Pure Vanilla

It was an ordinary day in the Viking village. Everything started as usual; there weren't many teenagers in the village, but they were already being trained as recruits to fight dragons. These were creatures with horns, tails, and wings, and they had been ruthlessly attacking the village for seven generations now.

Pure Vanilla was returning from the arena. These slaughters had never interested him; he couldn't bring himself to kill dragons, it just wasn't for him... but his father wanted his son to become a great Viking. A true dragon slayer. As the blond walked along the road, he glanced toward the forest, where a very painful roar could be heard... perhaps it wasn't a dragon, but some other Viking who needed help? The blond didn't think for long and ran toward the forest, wanting to help whoever was there. The youth emerged in the forest by a large ravine, at the bottom of which was a big lake and a tree... but at first, he didn't understand what was going on or how. The blond slowly descended into the ravine. He looked around, noticing nothing. But in that same instant, a soft growling sound came from behind. The blond spun around and froze in terror. A dragon was sitting there.

A youth with a tail, wings, and small fins on his head looked at the Viking with interest. This was Shadow Milk.