The Dragon Father

The Life of a Young Dragon Saint

Serena was in his small house. Serena liked his quiet time and his moments of isolation. He never showed it because he had made an image for himself, but he was rather self-conscious and had been for years. He loved poetry and drama, but, his dreams were looked down upon by... other people so he had instead pursued wizardry and became the second strongest wizard in Ishgar. The only one who ever knew of Serena's secret ambition was... Acnologia... and who came knocking?

"Hey Serena," Acnologia grumbled stomping in.

Serena quickly stuffed a few papers inside his desk and walked out of his study, "You called," he bowed.

"We're going training," Acnologia explained.

"We..."

"So what'cha writing? Sting asked looking over Acnologia's shoulder.

"That would be my... uh, autobiography, I'm on chapter 253, do you want to hear it?" Serena lied.

"No, we're good," Rogue's voice called out nervously somewhere behind Acnologia out of the house.

"You need my expertise?" Serena smiled.

"I need your strength... and your company," Acnologia shrugged.

"I knew it, I knew you'd come around, ha! Admit it, you care about me," Serena laughed.

"I will never admit that in my life."

"You will, you will," Serena teased walking past Acnologia.

On his desk sat a piece of paper that looked as if it had been crumpled up many times. Only three words were recognizable, Drama tryouts tomorrow. It was a remnant from his past, much like the pictures of his new family on his mantle. The paper, however, was a painful reminder of why he was who he was.

"What do you mean theater?" Serena's father cried wringing his hands through his hair.

An orange-haired boy stood in the center of the room grasping the signup sheet, "It sounded interesting," the teen defended.

"Interesting, my son, interesting is being able to solve complex equations in a millisecond. Interesting is being able to name every flora and fauna you see. Interesting is being able to level continents with a glance, that is what you can be," his father sighed.

"Leave the poor child alone," his mother defended, "he'll go try out and when he realizes that it is an occupation for the meaningless failures he'll pursue other means."

"And if he doesn't, what if my heir goes and becomes a drama brat, practicing lines, singing, making props acting like... like... You get what I mean!"

"Let the darling do as he pleases, you can't blame him for wanting to show off that pretty face," the mother smiled.

"Now listen, son-" Serena's father tried to reason but when he turned Serena was gone; he had run up the stairs holding his tongue, the signup sheet now crumpled up and shoved under his bed. He sat dejectedly on his bed twirling a pen in his hand. He looked up at a mirror sitting across the room. He hated that mirror; his mother had insisted they get it so that he could always look presentable. It wasn't like it mattered, they weren't rich, they weren't famous, they were just normal people, but his parents liked to act like the royalty that they dreamed of being.

They had done this to him since the day he was born, they told him to be the best so that he could care for himself. Serena knew the truth; they wanted him to succeed so that they could live the lavish life they had always dreamed about.

Serena felt the pen beginning to bend in his hand. He stared at his reflection his blood boiling; he wanted to be a failure just so that they would be forced to be like everyone else. He wanted to throw them off the thrones that they had built for themselves. More than anything, he wanted to run away, but where would he go, what would he do? It was a pointless struggle that he grappled with constantly.

Loud voices echoed from downstairs and Serena guessed that his parents were fighting, it wasn't unusual; they acted all collected and proper but the moment you bumped them they became vicious bloodthirsty mongrels... Serena hated that too.

They had always pushed him to do things that would benefit them. Made him pursue things so that their dreams could become reality... and Serena? he was a tool, he knew it, and he hated it. He despised being a tool and he promised himself that he wouldn't be one ever again once he had escaped his parents.

The thing Serena hated worst of all... that was himself. He had been told for years that he was never good enough, and he had no-one to blame but himself for that one. He was never 'proper enough' never 'acceptable' that 'his face made up for his failures'... at least that was what he was told. He made the pen bend more as the anger flowed through him.

He looked up at the mirror one last time, every flaw that his parents had pointed out to him echoed in his mind, every scoff, and every outburst, it all echoed in his mind as he looked at his face... his perfect, handsome face.

He hadn't realized he had thrown the pen before it had happened; the pen slammed itself into the mirror causing an array of cracks to spread out from the impact center. Serena looked at the now broken mirror displaying his face hundreds and hundreds of times over. His perfect face.

Serena stood up and took a piece of broken glass in his hand, he hated his face, he hated his parents... and he hated his home. But right now, he hated his face.

A scar was etched onto his face that day, across his nose, he made sure it was deep; he made sure it would stand out; he made sure that no one would miss it. He would look into the mirror for years to come and smile because never again, did his parents tell him he had a perfect face.

Years later, there was an opportunity. An opportunity to become strong, to escape. Serena didn't hesitate... and neither did his parents. They thought Serena could become the strongest and that once he was strong they could live as they dreamed. They were wrong.

Once Serena tasted freedom on the back of a dragon, he refused to let it go. He never wanted to be a tool or a pawn, he wanted to be an apprentice. He found his true calling because of his parent's cruelty, but that was the only thing he thanked them for. He never spoke to them again.