The Sky Beast

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Across the courtyard, the boy was thrown off the saddled dragon; his back hit the ground painfully. He gasped in pain as he tumbled and rolled, landed on his side.

“Get up!” the monk roared.

Ryoumaru pushed off the ground slowly, and became steadied on his feet. He turned to face the dragon, the dirt and grass stuck to his head and his clothes. He circled the dragon, his feet pushed off the ground and he bolted.

It had been three months since, and the prince still struggled with keeping the dragon under control. He had no clue about how to control it, he had been forbidden in naming such a creature.

“They don’t speak,” Monk Sarutobi had instructed him. “They possess intelligence, but they are silent creatures. Beasts. Treat them as such.”

It was easier to do that, but every time the dragon disobeyed, the whip came out. Ryoumaru had only witnessed the whipping, but today, his instructor handed it to him. “If it misbehaves, discipline.”

Ryoumaru pulled out the whip, unsure whether he should do such a task. It was nearly dark, and they’d been training since morning bell. Three months in and the dragon hadn’t backed down.

It needed to be broken.

The whip coiled around his hand as he approached the dragon, tightened as his nervousness took over. He shook off the feeling and withdrew, and his hand came crashing forward.

Thwack!

The dragon endured the first hit, flinched as it sliced into its shoulder. The prince came at it again and again, stopping after the fourth hit. He panted as the creature crouched down, a wafted sigh escaped from its jaws. The boy hesitated, slowly headed towards the creature the whip held firmly in his grip. A hand reached out to touch the dragon, and it did not react. Ryoumaru hauled himself up onto the saddle and stayed there for a few moments. This time the dragon did not throw him off or retaliate.

It had been broken.

Monk Sarutobi clapped behind him as he approached. “Well done! Well done!” he praised. “You’ve gotten control of the Beast!”

Ryoumaru gave a weak grin in return as the monk placed a hand on the dragon’s leg. “We’ll brand him tomorrow evening and then the real training begins.”

“Brand him?” the boy asked.

The monk nodded. “Each Emperor who has picked their dragon had their name branded on the beast. It represents that he is yours until death.”

Ryoumaru searched about the body and found no such brands on the dragon’s scales. “This one doesn’t have any,” he remarked.

“That’s because no Emperor has ever tried to tame it,” Monk Sarutobi replied. “We obtained him fifteen years ago, a young dragon but the Emperor’s brothers struggled and failed to control him.”

“My uncles did?” Ryoumaru asked as he gazed down at the back of its scaled neck. It hung low to the ground, defeated.

“Yes,” the monk answered. “Anyway, we’ll end training for today and tomorrow night, the branding ceremony will begin.”

Monk Sarutobi helped the boy off his ride and removed its armour with the help of Oskar who stood on the sidelines. He remained quiet as Ryoumaru tried to make conversation, but Oskar did not reply. He quickly removed the saddle and straps, and Monk Sarutobi slapped the animal’s behind. It retreated back into the south tower, a splatter of blood landed on the grass.