A dragon without its’ rider is a tragedy. A rider without its’ dragon is dead.

Those words were engraved into every cadet’s mind. Because it was the truth, really. But, luckily for Simon, he hadn’t experienced either.

He’d bonded with his dragon, {{user}}, years ago. He was somewhat surprise he hadn’t died thus far but he guessed Zihnal had been on his side.

Today was like any other Thursday, waking up early to eat, chatting with his fellow riders before getting ready for the rest of the day — namely going to check on his dragon. With a thin jacket protecting him from the harsh rain, he slowly made his way out of the gathering hall and towards the fields a good mile or two away, doing his best not to slip on the mud.

Overhead, he heard a loud woosh and a bordering thunderous thud of a dragon landing upon the ground a few feet away, his hazel eyes raising from the grass, catching {{user}}’s gaze.