So here he was, panting like a dog, trying to catch what little breath he could at this brief staredown. His raven black hair was matted down and soaked with sweat, and he ached with every brutal beat that his heat continued to pound against his chest. His muscles twitched with any movement of his body, and he was extremely fatigued, his arms and legs ready to lash out wildly at the slightest sound. But he couldn't quit now, not when he was this close.

People had told him he was different all his like. He was only fourteen, but his bodily form indicated that he was at least four years the senior. He trained constantly, and although he had actually never been in a real battle, the other knights said he fought with the heart and sole of a war tattered veteran. His skill was beyond reproach for the Dragon Knights, save for a select few, and this was proven by his man "circle of survival" endeavors. He was currently working on his sixteenth victim, which would tie his own record. He made it to ten wins almost every time with relative ease, and this was quite astonishing considering that only one other knight had made it past seven victories. He was special, and everybody knew it.

He watched his opponent through emerald-green eyes, and waited for the move he knew was going to come. He had a memorized "catalog" of almost every Dragon Knight stored in his head. He analyzed them as they sparred and tried to catch their weaknesses and strengths. All he had to do was see who popped into the ring, and his mind would automatically shift to that knight's profile in his "catalog", and he would remember what he needed to know. This man was no different. This man's weakness was repetitiveness; he used the same move over and over, and it was going to be exploited, it was just a matter of when.

His opponent approached with caution, the attack was coming, but he was ready. He let a smile appear on his face. His muscles tensed up even more(if that were possible), and time seemed to move in slow motion. He knew what was coming, but he didn't want to move to early and give his intentions away. Just one more step, one more, he pleaded inside his over-exerted brain. This was all timing, he had to do this just right...NOW! his mind shouted, and he sprung into action. As his enemy began a thrust at him, he dropped his lance and shield, and began to spin out of the way to his left on a diagonal course, the opposition's lance missing him by barely an inch or two. He continued to spin until he got about halfway up the antagonist's spear, when he slowed down. He placed both hands on the weapon and yanked it violently out of his enemy's hands. He continued his spin, moving the lance around in his arms as he did so. Placing his hands gently above the steel tip, he continued to spin until he was directly next to his opponent. Once there, he suddenly stopped and swung the end of the lance at his enemy. The weapon struck the man in the back of the knees, and he fell to the ground in spasms of pain.

"I yield" the downed knight said, as the point of his own lance was placed against the soft, tender, exposed flesh of his neck.

The prodigy didn't respond, he simply dropped the borrowed weapon and performed a couple of backflips to get back to his own gear before the next person got to him.

Too late.

As soon as he had his things in his hands once again, the next knight's spear was already at his neck.

"Do you yield?" the man said, the triumph and self assurance already in his voice.

The child marvel sighed deeply, hoping his opponent would take this as a sign that he was indeed going to surrender. However, he had no intention of doing any such thing. He spun his lance around in his hand idly and acted as if he were in deep thought. He wasn't giving up now, with this victory he'd have a new record.

"I said do you yield?" the man said once again, only this time his voice was filled with several different feelings. Triumph, concern, and nervousness all escaped his body, and each one was evident as the words hung in the like storm clouds on a gloomy day.

"Nah, I don't think so" he responded, a large smile on his face. Not wasting another second, he dropped his shield once again, and twirled his weapon in his hand [again]. He caught the spinning lance in both hands and slammed it against his adversary's own weapon. He drove his opponent's spear to the ground, tucked neatly beneath his own.

He looked up, and gave a cocky smile to his unfortunate foe. Without looking back down, he slammed his foot down on the man's lance, snapping it in two. Bringing his foot back up, he delivered a crushing roundhouse to the man's jaw. Going on his momentum, he dropped down and performed a foot sweep with the same leg, knocking the once proud knight on his back.

He got back to his feet and walked over to his latest victim. He stuck his lance in the man's face.

"Now,...do YOU yield?" he stated, a slight swagger in his voice.

"Oh damn, yeah, I guess" the fallen knight replied, ashamed to have let the victory get away from him.

Nothing was said, not a word spoken. Seventeen wins, a new record. He had little time to savor the feeling however, as just seconds later he was kicked in the back. He stumbled forward, and was about to regain his footing when he was struck in the kidney with the butt end of the man's weapon. The armor took most of the blow, but it was still a pretty good jolt. He tried to regain his composure, but this latest knight was fresh, he, on the other hand, was not. He gave a wild thrust with his lance, but the man easily dodged it. It retaliation he was given a swift kick to the gut.

He fell to the ground with a dull *thud*. His lance fell out of his hand and was thrown away by his newest opponent. Seventeen wins would be it for him today. It wasn't bad for a day's work though.

His opponent stepped over his body and stuck the lance over his heart. "Not bad, but it's over. Do you surrender?"

Damn, just seventeen, he had to admit, he was slightly disappointed. He thought he had twenty for sure. "Yeah".

The glorious knight let a smile purse his lips. "Job well done." he said as he offered his hand to help his comrade to his feet.

"Fellow knights, I give you Cyrano and a new record seventeen wins" the man said, and an eruption of applause came from the circle.

Cyrano laughed and looked at the crowd. He took his customary bows, still smiling, and when he was done, exited the ring.

Cyrano took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat off of his brow. He was bleeding a little from the neck, he saw, obviously Tomas, his seventeenth victim, had his lance a little closer to his neck than Cyrano had realized. He began to take his steel breastplate off when somebody approached him from behind.

"What happened out there? You just got killed." the man said humorously.

Cyrano turned to see Joshua standing in front of him. "Oh, hello Lord Joshua. Yeah, I'm dead, I thought I had twenty for sure" he responded with a smile.

"So what happened?" Joshua asked, still teasing the fourteen year old.

"I got cocky, started overestimating myself. I knew I had the record and was a little preoccupied, so now...I'm dead. But next time twenty for sure" Cyrano declared.

Joshua chuckled. "I'd like to see that. You're doing alright, next time don't get yourself killed." and with that Joshua left Cyrano to himself, still trying to remove the breastplate.

When he finally excavated himself out of the weighty aegis, he began to stroll around the grounds at a leisurely pace. He watched the knights as he walked, the ones still enticed and engaged in the circle of survival, and those who deemed not to partake in such "silliness". Joshua, was currently talking to another of the knights, his second in command, a man by the name of Martyn.

Cyrano sauntered past the inert knights, until he came to two of his friends, Shyla and Elias. Evidently they were discussing strategy, something Cyrano was a whiz at and loved to discuss.

"Hey Cyr, what's up?" Shyla said, her brown eyes lighting up at the sight of the new visitor.

"Not much, just came over to see what you guys were talking about" Cyrano replied congenially.

"Impressive showing today, I swear, I think you're getting better every time you go out there, if that's even possible." Elias said, introducing himself into the conversation.

Cyrano blushed, he hated when his friends did things like that, it made him feel...weird. "yeah...well, uh...", he was at a loss for words.

"You know Lord Joshua is checking you out almost everyday now, I'm beginning to think he's really impressed with you" Elias continued to say.

"Yeah, I hope he's going to pay real good attention, because after 'ol Martyn retires(or dies, he thought), the position of Joshua's aide de camp will be open, and I want that job" Cyrano said with sudden conviction.

Elias burst out laughing. "You? He wouldn't pick you quite yet, I think your still a little young. I'm not exactly sure, but I don't think Joshua is going to make one of us fourteen year olds his second in command." Elias said, as he continued to laugh.

"Laugh it Elias, but you'll see, he won't have a choice in the matter." Cyrano responded.

"What do you mean by that, Cyr?" Shyla questioned, her face unlike that of Elias, was nothing but seriousness.

"Easy, there's no one here better than me." Oooh, that hurt. Elias stopped laughing and looked at Cyrano. "I mean honestly, I think he's going to have to pick me."

Elias shot a bemused glance at Shyla and then was promptly given a scolding by Shyla's eyes.

"You know, Cyr, you are special, there's no doubt about that, and everybody knows it, but I think Joshua is going to use somebody with a little more experience and who's a little more mature." Shyla said, giving Cyrano a glance that took pity on the disillusioned boy.

"Well, whatever, I still think he's going to have to pick me, but we'll see when the time comes. Now, let's get back to what you guys were doing." Cyrano said, sitting down next to Shyla. The new subject picked up almost at once.

The dragon's den was a dark and damp place, but each knight usually went there once a day, if for nothing else as just to see his/her dragon. Cyrano visited his dragon usually three times a day, once after he woke up, once in the afternoon (this is when they usually went out for a ride together), and once before he went to bed. It was nothing new he had been performing the ritual since before he could remember.

All Dragon Knights had a special bond with their dragons. The dragons weren't merely pets, and the knights were by no means their master. The dragons were part of the family, if a dragon were to die, they would grieve it just as they would a human, and sometimes even more. There was an unspoken connection between the knight and his dragon, when a knight was sad, or unhappy, the dragon was sad and unhappy. It was a connection no human outside of the Dragon Knights could ever comprehend, and with each passing day the bond grows stronger. If a dragon were to ever die, a part of the knight goes with it(if not all of the knight), if the knight happens to die, the dragon would usually kill itself. Now that was a bond nobody could grasp, and it is this bond which makes being a Dragon Knight well worth it.

He walked through the dank chamber, with only the sounds of the dragons heavy breathing to keep him company. He passed Elias' and Shyla's dragons, Fang and Rock, and instinctively knew he was coming up on his own dragon. His bonded brother was easy to distinguish out of all the other dragons, he was the only one who was blue. Most dragons were black, or orange, or red, but not his dragon. His dragon was blue, brighter than the most luminous sky, yet somehow darker than the deepest ocean, and so had been aspersed with name, Ice.

He followed the path he could have take with his eyes closed and eventually found himself facing his dragon. When Ice opened his eyes he offered what Cyrano like to consider "Dragon Smiles"(He did show his teeth). Cyrano smiled back and rubbed the dragon on it's head. Ice offered another "smile" and looked at Cyrano. Suddenly, without warning, Shyla's comments came back to him: "Cyr, your special, there's no doubt about that, and everybody knows it..."