There's a big tree by our house. I'm not sure what draws me to it. Maybe it's just so peaceful here. The shade keeps me cool, and it feels like an escape. But there's a dragon in that tree. Mom and Dad keep saying dragons aren't real, that they're just in stories. But no—this one's real. It attacks me, swooping down and roaring fiercely. Every time I want to rest under the tree, I have to fight it.

  I grab my sword, the one I keep hidden from my parents. It's actually just a stick, but I've called it a sword—and that makes it one. Another battle awaits, and I declare myself a knight. And, in that moment, I become one. The dragon bursts out of the tree, circling me from above. It's too high for my sword to reach, and it screeches with bone-chilling cries. I'm scared, but I press on toward the tree. Any minute now, it'll attack. The dragon loops around, diving straight at me. I clutch my sword with both hands and brace myself. It's getting closer, closer—this is it. I swing as hard as I can. Missed! But the dragon veers off at the last second, soaring back up into the sky.

  Step by step, I move closer to the tree. The dragon screams, circling back for another attack. I stand my ground, sword raised. This time, I strike—got it! The dragon flies off, wounded. One of its wings barely moves. The tree is mine! Exhausted, I collapse in its shade.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "Son! Where are you?" Mom's voice cuts through the air. Quick, I have to hide my sword. I toss it into the nearest bush. "Yeah, Mom!" "There you are! And you're filthy—again!" "Mom, I was fighting a dragon!" "There are no dragons! Quit making up stories!" she scolds. "Now go change your clothes!"

  But then I see it. The dragon is coming back. It's injured—and furious. "Mom, look!" I point. She turns, and her face fills with fear. "Oh my God! What the hell is that?!" She grabs me, shielding me with her body. I see Dad running toward us. He won't make it in time—but suddenly, he's there. He steps in front of us, raises his fist, and aims it at the dragon.

  A beam of blinding light shoots out from his hand, striking the dragon down. "Is everyone okay?" His voice is calm. "Yes... yes! Where the hell have you been?! That crazy crow nearly killed your son!" Mom yells. "Sorry," he says. "Sorry?!?" Her voice rises. "And what was THAT?" she demands. "What are you talking about?" "You can travel through time!" she accuses, her voice sharp and filled with an unspoken threat. "There are only supposed to be two entities capable of controlling time..." "Well, not just two," Dad responds, trying to stay calm. "There were four. And now—our son too." "Our son?" Mom's tone turns icy. "And what about the other two? Are they your sons as well?" "Don't..." "Oh, we ARE going to talk about this," she snaps. "Come on, sweetie." She grabs my hand and drags me back to the house.

  

What are they talking about? I'm utterly lost. Mom is furious.

  ***

  To be continued...