Dragonslayer

Haya though he knew everything about the dragons of old--how magnificent beings they were, with shining scales stronger than diamond, and wings that spanned villages. But nothing prepared him for this... being that stood before him.

It was a dragon. Yet...

Its eyes were red, with blood dropping from them. As it moved, its skin would go brittle and break, wounding it. It folded its wings, which were nothing more than bones, around its body protectively, as if afraid that a mere touch would shatter it.

This dragon was decaying.

Questions flooded through Haya but only one came out of his mouth. "Who are you?"

The dragon took a step but as soon as its front leg held its weight, the bones underneath it broke, and the dragon fell on the ground. Yet it continued to move forward, even if it was crawling.

Haya stood paralyzed as the dragon laid down its fragile head in front of him, exposing its neck. He, then, realized what the dragon wanted.

With a final look to the downed being, Haya raised his sword and brought it down to the dragon.

He was Haya, the dragonslayer, but for the first time, he shed a tear for his victim.