Chatterbox: Inkwell

I wrote a thing! I don't know why, I just wanted to. THis is definitely by no means a final copy, as I'm not even sure if one will exist.

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I have been trained my whole life to hunt dragons. In the crib I was told stories about their wicked greed. I grew up on the scary stories of them told by the fire on cold winter nights, I grew up knowing that was what I wanted to do with my life. But when I was little it was all more of a fantasy, my young mind craving adventure and fame. Turns out that’s all much harder than you’d expect.

When I was 12 my village was attacked by a dragon.

At first my younger sister, Sadie, and I thought it was exciting, getting to see a real dragon, then the screams started. There were people running in the streets, trying to get away from the searing flames. I instantly knew that this was not something to be excited about. This was bad. I grabbed my sister and tried to run, but somewhere her hand slipped out of mine and I lost her. Our parents had never really bothered with us much, the only one who really cared was Granny, and she had died a few years before. I didn’t really care much what happened to our parents at the time, I just wanted to get Sadie out. I hoped, hoped with all my heart, that she would make it out as well, but she didn’t.

Our house caught fire, I barely made it out alive, and I was the only one. The rest of the village burned. Some days I wish I had stayed, wish that it had been me that had burned in that fire instead of Sadie. But I know that I can’t change the past. So instead I made a vow. I vow that I would not rest until every dragon was dead. For Sadie, for Granny, for everyone who died in that fire whose name I now cannot remember, and so everyone who comes after me will never have to feel the sorrow of what happened to me.

And I will fight with every fiber of my body to keep that vow.
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And that's that. Let me know if you would like more.