Rowan Oak grieved for two days and nights.

Memories of the time he spent on the farm flooded the boy’s mind. It had not been long, no more than a month, but he enjoyed the experience. It was tough, but rewarding at the same time.

Now it is all gone.

It was hard to believe that it had been little over a month since he had finished his Blessing Ceremony and swore to himself that he would become a knight. Now look at himself.

He couldn’t even use his arms anymore. 

After spending his days crying, he began to question what was the final outcome between Grandpa Rodan and the dragon.

He desperately wanted his grandpa to be victorious against the dragon, but his fate was unknown. The same for his companions such as Buckbeak and Dolly. What the boy did know for sure was that Bessie and the other farm animals  perished against the dragon. 

He had seen it personally, even if he wished he hadn’t.

Maybe not personally for Bessie, but she could not have survived much longer with her injuries. Grandpa Rodan had mentioned how Bessie would not last much longer before his final face off.

Rowan constantly thought about the whole situation. What could he have done differently so that just maybe one more person or animal could have survived? Maybe if he had been faster? Or taken a left instead of right? There were so many different actions that could have ended things differently.

Analyze and adapt.

That was one of the lessons taught by his grandpa and he decided to put it to use. Rowan knew he wasn’t the brightest. He much prefer learning with his body than with his mind. However it was only his mind that was free to work now while his body needed to rest.

The constant remembrance of the traumatic event burdened the child’s mind further as that day's events kept repeating in his mind. It tormented him even in his sleep. It was almost better when his mind along with his body was too exhausted to think. Despite the fearsome nightmares, Rowan persisted in wondering about the possibilities of what he could have done different.

It was not productive for his mental health, but it was something the boy needed to do to ease his guilt.

In addition, Almar had not been helpful in regards to Rowan;s self-inflicted tormented. Perhaps the elf  needed time to mentally adjust himself as well as he also lost a great deal. That was a possibility, or perhaps elves just dealt with loss and grief differently than humans. For the most part, he left the human boy alone, only to come in to help feed the boy meals. Rowan was hand fed two meals a day(which was always a simple soup)  as his body was unable to get up. Almar also came in to change his covers. His cloth had been too damaged after they escaped, so the elf had burned them. 

That’s right, Rowan was naked as the day he was born, using only a piece of animal skin to cover himself. Not as cloth, but as a blanket. Since the elf village was destroyed, there was nothing for Rowan to wear and he had to make do with using an animal skin as a blanket. 

And the most embarrassing part of all?

Rowan was unable to use the bathroom. He hadn’t felt this ashamed since…well, forever. Only babies needed help when doing their business, and Rowan was way past that stage, or at least he thought he was.

 It did not help the animal skin used to cover him was terribly itchy. He couldn’t even scratch himself as his new arms refused to obey his commands. Almar would enter and leave the tent a few times a day to help change Rowan’s covers as it was soiled after Rowan did his ‘business’. 

For the most part, Rowan was left to his own devices and he was grateful for that. His mind wandered freely as it went through despair and grief.

Amongst his sorrow, a gradual calm eventually overcame him as he began to sort out his thoughts. Days of crying were useless as it was not going to bring back anyone. His tears dried up and no longer rolled down his eyes.. 

Rowan had come to the conclusion that that was nothing he could have done differently against the dragon. He had no idea of the strength of the farm animals or his grandpa, nor the power of the dragon. Everything had happened too quickly and there was too many things he did not know until the fighting actually started. There were hints of the animal’s strengths, but Rowan had self consciously ignored them.

Rowan Oak was too young, too inexperienced, and weak to have made a difference.

After all, he was still just a ten year old boy.

Not that his age was a good reason why he was so powerless. Most adults would have agreed that there was nothing Rowan could have done in that situation as even adults were powerless against such a threat. 

Maybe if he was smarter, he could have thought of a different solution.

All the reasons why Rowan couldn’t help merely sounded like excuses in his own mind and Rowan hated himself for it.

It all came down to strength in the end. 

The only thing that would have made a difference was if Rowan was stronger. Strong enough that the other animals didn’t need to worry about him. That way, maybe a few animals would have survived. The boy knew Bessie had a chance of survival if she hadn’t stepped in front to protect him from the flames. The cow was just that strong.

Dragons in story books are portrayed as powerful monsters. Some were good, some were evil. Different stories had different features, but there was one thing they shared in common. Dragons were mighty and powerful. Rowan had once admired them  and would have given anything to meet one, given how heroic some of the dragons were in the stories.

Now?

Now he only had hatred and fear for such a being. 

Rowan decided he would become stronger, strong enough that he would never fear such a monster again. And if he ever met the black dragon once more? He’ll be sure to slay it.

Now the question was what could the boy do to become strong?

His body was still recovering and his new wooden arms refused to cooperate. 

He constantly tried to make his arms move. Every moment he laid there, he would concentrate on his arms, hoping for some feedback, only to be met with disappointment.

After countless failures, Eventually he decided to move on to work on something he was focusing on when had been at the farm. 

Meditation.

That was the foundation that Grandpa Rodan wanted him to build. Rowan remembered on the day of the attack, he had been close to feeling his own mana. The boy had been planning to succeed the next day in grasping the feel of his  mana, only to be attacked that night.

Rowan slowed his breathing, taking deep breaths, as he tried to remember the feeling.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Rowan felt something flowing from his head down to his chest. Then it moved towards his legs. Everything had felt normal as far as the boy was concern. That was when Rowan finally felt it.

A connection with his arms.