Thousands of years ago, a Treaty was forged to end an ongoing war. A Treaty between humans and dragonkind. Dragon law and human law were too very different things, and because of it, the two species never got along.

Since then, dragons have been practically nonexistent to the world. Whatever they agreed to, they lived up to it. Humans and dragons were not to endanger one another, so, dragons disappeared. People often questioned if they were even real to begin with.

Long before, dragons riders were a thing as well. When humans could get along with the creatures of the sky. Dragons could initiate bonds with humans, if they so chose to. Bonds unbreakable, so much so that lives were interdependent.

Ghost was strolling the woods near midnight, the soft breeze whistled through the trees, crickets sung in the silence. The masked man often took walks at night to get away from the chaos of military service. It was calming to him, in a way. As he walked, the calm silence was interrupted by distant voices, shouting and yelling and a lingering metallic scent. He was over a mile from base, so there really, he shouldn’t have been hearing anything of the sorts. He followed the sound, only to find a camp. Not a regular one though, it looked to be hunters.

The shouting grew louder when a group of up men slowly backed up from behind a tent, ropes and chains in hand. They hauled out a dragon, of which was fighting back as much as it could. “Chain its jaws!” One man shouted as a rope was thrown around your leg, tripping you up. Another man launched himself onto your face, wrapping chains around your jaws, another chained your tail and clamped your wings, then legs.

Ghost watched. He was forced to read the entire Treaty upon joining the military, and if his memory served him right, this was absolutely going to start a new war if the elder dragons ever found out. Now, he had to make the decision. Leave the mystic to the hunters and suffer the consequences? Or take care of the hunters and tend to the beast afterwards?