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everyone else, but not tonight. Elsewhere in the
house, I could hear distant, mumbled voices. I instantly recognised
one of them to be my Grandpa. I knew exactly what was going on.
    I quietly
slipped out of bed, dressed in nothing but my pyjama bottoms, and
tip toed out of my bedroom and down the hall way to the room where
my brother and sister slept. Just as I suspected, the sound of my
Grandpa’s voice was coming from here.
    I found the
door to be slightly agar. A thin trail of light shone through into
the otherwise pitch black hallway. Inside the small room, my two
younger siblings, Toby and Amber sat up in their beds; their faces
alight with fascination as my Grandpa sat beside them, telling the
same old stories that he used to tell me when I was their age.
    Hearing his
soft, warm voice talk about a distant time filled with technology
and peace brought a rush of warmth and nostalgia to my heart. It
took me right back to my childhood, when I sat in the very same bed
that my younger brother, Toby sat in. Stories from before the Rise
always fascinated me.
    “ Tell my favourite story, grandpa!” Amber said as Grandpa
finished telling a story about how he had once gone on holiday to a
foreign country called Spain. Amber’s face was a picture of youth
and innocence, at the tender age of seven, she was too young to
comprehend the harshness of the world that she had been brought
into. I would do anything to have a time machine and visit the days
Grandpa told us of.
    “ Which one is that?” My Grandpa chuckled.
    “ The one about the Dragon Rider.” She replied, sitting up
eagerly.
    “ Ah, Mogbane.” He said, pausing and looking to the ceiling as
though trying to remember the story.
    I remembered
the story of Mogbane. Just like my sister, it fascinated me, though
part of me never truly allowed myself to believe this particular
story.
    “ One day a traveller passed through Haven and with him, he
brought stories of a man living high up in the mountains beyond
Manchester. The man he told us of had a rare, and special ability.
It is said that this man, named Mogbane, has trained and tamed one
of the winged beasts that ravaged the skies. People speak of seeing
him riding upon the dragon, thousands of feet into the air like a
majestic angel.”
    “ How did he tame one, Grandpa?” Toby interrupted, his voice
thick with doubt – I wasn’t surprised by this. Toby was a smart kid
who had a habit of questioning everything. He wanted to know the
causes and reasons for everything, a trait which at times could be
a little annoying, but would surely eventually craft him into a
perfect citizen of the Charred Lands.
    “ It is said that he raised the dragon as his own from birth. It
is still a small dragon, but powerful nevertheless. Mogbane comes
from a small group of people living in the mountains who call
themselves ‘The Church of Fire’. These people have different views
about the dragons. They seem to think that they have religious
roots and look to the creatures as Gods - looney’s if you ask me.”
My Grandpa finished, with a laugh.
    “ Do you think it’s true?” Toby asked.
    “ I’m afraid I don’t. There’s a lot we human’s don’t know about
the Dragons, but one thing that we have been able to concur on is
that they’re killing machines. They live to breath their reign of
destruction or tear anything apart that moves. They’re monsters,
plain and simple. I don’t believe that they can be tamed.” He
sighed, the mood in the room shifted somewhat.
    “ Aren’t you a little old for stories?” A voice said from
behind. I almost jumped from my skin as I spun around to find my
father standing alone in the dark hallway.
    “ I was just…” I stuttered, feeling my face turn red with
embarrassment.
    “ It’s okay. I can’t sleep either, but we won’t drift off if
we’re not in bed now, will we?” He said, gesturing me to return to
my room. I nodded my head and silently made my way back.
    “ Goodnight