I stood there in the inn’s common room, eyes practically glowing with excitement. My mind raced with possibilities, visualizing all sorts of plans and strategies for expanding my newly formed “company” and, more importantly, finding a way to help Eregor and his people.

  “Alright, listen up,” I announced, walking back and forth in front of my confused friends, who were still eating their breakfast. “Here’s the plan: first, we need to establish our reputation. We’ll organize events, gather supporters, and show everyone that Drakonians aren’t the monsters they’ve been led to believe.”

  Sylas, Kael, Mira, and Kaldor exchanged bewildered glances, clearly struggling to follow my train of thought. Mira raised a finger, “Uh, Duke… we were just joking when we suggested using those three to ‘help.’”

  But I was too deep into my strategic flow to notice. “Next, we can establish a network to reach neighboring villages. We could even hire performers to spread the message in a creative way! And for phase three—”

  “Wait… there’s phases?” Kael muttered, scratching his head.

  Ignoring the bewilderment, I continued, “We’ll gather allies and build momentum! We could have them wear uniforms, maybe even create a catchy slogan—”

  Kaldor leaned over to Sylas, whispering, “Is he really taking this seriously?”

  Sylas nodded slowly, mouth slightly agape. “I think he’s already started writing a business plan in his head…”

  I stormed outside the guild’s door, carrying a pile of papers

  But before I could get to the part about distributing leaflets, a soft plink hit my head. Then another. I looked up just in time for a heavier droplet to splatter onto my nose. I blinked, confused, as more raindrops followed in quick succession.

  “Ah… really?” I muttered, staring up at the now overcast sky. My enthusiasm deflated like a punctured balloon as the rain turned into a full-on downpour.

  Plan A, hindered.

  I sighed and trudged back inside, drenched. Looks like I’ll have to move on to Plan B... which, unfortunately, was simply to wait.

  The sound of raindrops pattering against the window filled the room, an endless, rhythmic tapping that somehow made the silence around me even more suffocating. I sat on the wooden chair by the window, staring out at the dreary, rain-soaked street. Streams of water trickled down the glass, distorting the view like a blurred memory, and with every minute that passed, my earlier enthusiasm seemed to wash away with it.

  I had been so full of energy just hours ago, imagining all the ways we could help Eregor. But now, trapped inside with nothing to do but wait for the skies to clear, that same energy had dulled into a restless, almost painful boredom. My fingertips drummed against the armrest as I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against the cold glass with the other side drenched. Outside, villagers hurried past, huddled under makeshift covers, moving like dark silhouettes against the grey background. It felt like the entire world was moving on, while I was stuck here—motionless, useless.

  Why am I even doing this?

  The question lingered in my mind, stubbornly refusing to leave. I had thrown myself into this grand mission with so much confidence, convincing myself that I could make a difference, that I could change the way people saw Eregor’s race. But here I was, on the first day, already brought to a standstill by something as trivial as a rainstorm.

  What was I trying to prove? To whom? And why did it even matter?

  Eregor’s words echoed in my mind, his eyes filled with that desperate hope I couldn’t shake. “But a century ago, we decided to change! We Drakonians want to show the world that we’re more than just fire-breathing lizardmen”. His voice had been steady, but I could hear the pain behind it, the years of suffering and rejection that had chipped away at his resolve. And I’d promised to help him. I’d stood there, chest puffed up with confidence, telling him I could change people’s minds.

  But did I really believe that?

  I let out a long, shaky breath, my fingers gripping the edge of the windowsill until my knuckles turned white. The weight of it all pressed down on me like the dark clouds above. What if it’s hopeless? What if no one listens? The thought gnawed at me like a parasite, feeding off my doubt. I was just one kid—no special power, no grand influence. What right did I have to believe I could change a world so set in its ways?

  Face it, Ketashi, a bitter voice inside me whispered, using the name I hadn’t heard in years, the name that belonged to my past life. You’re trying to solve a problem that’s bigger than you could ever imagine. This world isn’t kind to dreamers like you.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to drown out that inner critic, but the thoughts just kept coming, like a flood I couldn’t dam. I had to be realistic, didn’t I? Maybe I was just setting myself up for failure. Maybe I was destined to let Eregor down.

  But then, in that torrent of doubt, a memory rose to the surface—a flash so vivid it was as if the past had reached through the rain to grab hold of me. My mother’s voice came to me, soft and warm, a sound I hadn’t heard in what felt like lifetimes. I could see her clearly, her gentle smile framed by the glow of the afternoon sun. I was a boy again, sitting on the porch back in my old world, while she ran her fingers through my hair.

  “Ketashi,” she said, her voice filled with that unshakeable kindness that had always felt like a shield against the world. “You’ve always had a big heart. You’re stubborn as a mule when you set your mind to something, but that’s what I love about you. Never stop helping those in need, even if it’s hard. The world needs people like you, who aren’t afraid to care.”

  Her words had been so simple, yet they carried a weight that I hadn’t fully understood back then. Back when I was just a boy, still too naive to understand the cruelties of the world. I let out a sigh, she had raised her son through many hardships, 9 months bearing me, and 12 years of education. Eventually, all those sacrifices just for me to become a scumbag in the future. What was I doing back then…

  My eyes snapped open, and I felt a prickling heat behind them, a stinging that made me blink rapidly. For a moment, I was afraid I was about to cry, and I clenched my fists against my sides, holding back the tears. No. I won’t back down, I told myself fiercely. She had believed in me, even when the others don’t, that’s enough. She had seen something in me that I couldn’t see—something worth fighting for.

  I leaned away from the window, straightening up. The cold glass no longer felt like a comfort, but a reminder of the wall I was putting up between myself and the world. I couldn’t let the rain, the doubts, or the fear stop me. I had to keep going. For Eregor, for the Drakonians, and maybe... maybe even for that part of me that still wanted to prove I was worth something, that I could make a difference.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  “No,” I whispered to the empty room, the word slipping out like a vow. “I can’t give up now. Not after everything I’ve promised. I’m going to help Eregor, no matter how hard it gets.”

  The rain outside continued to pour, but it no longer felt like a barrier. Instead, it felt like a challenge. Something to push through, to overcome. I had been given a second chance in this world, a chance to do things differently than before. And if helping Eregor meant making a fool of myself in the streets, dancing in ridiculous costumes, or facing the ridicule of strangers... then so be it.

  I wasn’t going to let this world, or my own doubts, beat me down. Not when I had the strength of a promise behind me—a promise made not just to Eregor, but to the memory of my mother’s faith in me.

  As the rain slowly began to lighten, I stood up with a renewed fire in my chest. My heart pounded with a steady, determined rhythm. The world outside might be grey, but inside, I felt a light burning brighter than ever.

  This wasn’t just about helping Eregor anymore. It was about proving to myself that I could be the person my mother always believed I was.

  As soon as the rain cleared, I called for Jasper, Lia, and Finn. They arrived within minutes, bursting through the door with such energy that the whole inn turned to look.

  “Boss!” they cried in unison.

  “Stop calling me that,” I grumbled, rubbing my temples. But there was no stopping their enthusiasm.

  “Presenting our full names!” Jasper announced, puffing out his chest. “I am Jasper Redflare, the Sharp Blade of Justice!”

  “I’m Lia Strid, the Swift Gale of Retribution!” Lia added with a wink.

  “And I’m Finn Emtris, the Magic That Glow in The Dark!” Finn finished with a dramatic flourish, nearly tripping over his own feet.

  Lia whispered to Jasper but loud enough for me to hear “Did you hear that? ‘the Magic That Glow in The Dark’, how ridiculous. He had been practicing the nicknames for a while and chose the worst one possible”

  “Shut up before I blow you up, Miss Swift Gale,” Finn said with embarrassment and anger.

  Sylas stifled a laugh, while Mira openly snickered. “These guys...”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, trying to hide my embarrassment. “Enough with the theatrics. Here’s your new uniform.”

  I presented them with three outfits that I and Sylas had hastily designed a few days ago: dragon-themed costumes complete with wings, tails, and fake flames. Each outfit was unique—Jasper’s was crimson red with golden scales, Lia’s had sleek silver and blue designs, and Finn’s was all black with glowing green accents.

  “Ugh, these look so tacky!” Lia groaned, but she put hers on without complaint.

  “These are awesome!” Finn exclaimed, already swinging his fake tail around like a child.

  “Now let’s get to work,” I said, leading them out into the town square.

  We gathered in the center of town, where a small crowd was already forming. I cleared my throat, stepping up on a crate to get everyone’s attention.

  “Gather around, everyone!” I called out, trying to project my voice over the bustling noise of the town square. The drizzle from earlier had stopped, leaving the air fresh, but the crowd’s attention was already waning. I had to make this count.

  “Today, I’m here to speak about something we’ve all been told to fear for generations... the Drakonians!” My words caused a few heads to turn, some eyes narrowing with suspicion. Good. At least I had their attention.

  “For centuries, we’ve heard tales of Drakonians as bloodthirsty monsters—demons with scales, claws, and breath that scorches the earth,” I continued, my voice growing louder with each word. “Stories of devastation, towns destroyed, and innocent lives lost. But what if I told you... that these stories are just that—stories?” I paused for effect, letting the words sink in.

  Jasper and Lia were already moving behind me, mimicking dragon roars and flapping their fake wings. A few giggles erupted from the crowd, but I pressed on.

  “Have any of you ever met a Drakonian?” I asked, looking around. “Have you seen one with your own eyes, spoken to one face to face?” Silence followed. A few villagers exchanged uncertain glances. “I didn’t think so,” I said, my tone softening. “Because if you had, you’d know that they’re not the heartless monsters the legends make them out to be.”

  “They’ve been driven away, forced to hide, because of misunderstandings passed down from our ancestors,” I explained, my hands gesturing passionately. “Yes, there was a war—there were battles fought long before any of us were born. But tell me, is it fair to judge someone based on the actions of their ancestors? Shouldn’t we give them a chance to prove who they truly are?”

  I could see a few of the townsfolk starting to waver, their expressions softening just a bit. It was a small crack in their skepticism, but I would take it.

  “We call them beasts, monsters, but aren’t we the real monsters if we refuse to see beyond their appearance?” I asked, my voice trembling with emotion. “Imagine being judged for something you never did, hated for simply being born a certain way. Drakonians want peace. They want to live just like we do. To laugh, to dream, to protect their loved ones.”

  Behind me, Finn was attempting to mimic a Drakonian roar while flailing his fake dragon tail, nearly tripping over his own feet. It drew laughter from the children, but I kept my focus on the adults.

  “What I’m asking you today isn’t to change your beliefs overnight. I’m not asking you to throw away your fears as if they never existed,” I said, my tone softening. “I’m simply asking you... to open your hearts, just a little. To consider that maybe, just maybe, the Drakonians aren’t our enemies.”

  I took a deep breath, the weight of what I was trying to achieve pressing down on me. “Eregor, a Drakonian, came to me not with threats or demands, but with a plea. A plea for a chance to coexist, to live without fear of being hunted down. Isn’t that what we all want? A life free from hatred and violence?”

  I could see some of the villagers were actually listening now, their eyes no longer filled with hostility but with something closer to curiosity.

  “Let’s not let the mistakes of the past dictate our future!” I shouted, raising my fist in the air. “Let’s build a world where our children don’t grow up fearing things they don’t understand. A world where different races can stand side by side, not as enemies, but as allies.”

  Jasper and Lia, now in full performance mode, twirled and danced behind me, pretending to ‘battle’ while wearing their ridiculous costumes. I could only hope their antics would drive home the point: the Drakonians weren’t the terrifying monsters everyone imagined—they could be just as silly, flawed, and human as the rest of us.

  “So, what do you say? Will you give them a chance? Will you take the first step towards peace?” I asked, my voice almost breaking from the intensity. “Or will we let fear and hatred guide our path forever?”

  For a moment, I dared to hope. I could see a few nods and some thoughtful expressions... But then, one by one, the villagers began to disperse, murmuring amongst themselves, and shaking their heads. My heart sank as I realized they weren’t convinced.

  “Mon look at those chickens, they are hilarious” a random kid laughed pointing at the ‘actors’

  Lia angered, raised her voice “ WHAT? How dare you call an elegant, delegate, charming, and gentle lady a chicken, brat!”

  “Hahaha, mad chicken,” the kid said with his mom running from behind “ Sorry, guys, my kids are not like this when he is at home. Come on Rev, let’s go”

  Though she offered a sorry, I could still see a laugh of hers.

  “It’s hopeless...” I muttered, feeling utterly defeated.

  “C-Come on, boss,” Jasper tried to cheer me up, patting my back. “You did great!”

  “Yeah! It was... uh... a start?” Lia added though she didn’t sound convinced.

  But nothing they said could lift my spirits. That was until a small voice piped up.

  “That was actually kinda cool.”

  I looked up to see a young boy standing there, about a few years younger than me, curiosity shining in his eyes. He had been watching our whole performance, seemingly fascinated.

  “You... you liked it?” I asked, blinking in surprise.

  “Yeah! You’re like those heroes in the stories! But, you know... weirder,” the boy said with a mischievous grin.

  I laughed despite myself. Maybe this wasn’t the disaster I thought it was.

  “Heroes huh? What’s your name, kid?” I asked, standing up with newfound energy.

  “My name is Bran,” he said confidently.

  I looked at him, my mind already racing with possibilities. “Alright, Bran... how would you like to join our team? I’ve got a ‘Plan B’ that I think you’re perfect for.”

  The boy’s eyes widened in excitement. “Really? What do I gotta do?!”

  “Oh, you’ll see,” I said with a grin. “Welcome aboard, Bran.”