Razor-sharp talons sliced into Jehon’s flesh as the enraged Dragon clutched him in its massive fist. Its steel muscles rippled angrily beneath its cool, leathered skin, and Jehon found it impossible to breathe within its deadly grip. By some miracle, he had managed to hold on to his sword as the claws bit into his waist, and he plunged it now with all his might into the Creature’s sinewy hide.
The Dragon gave an earsplitting shriek, heaving mouthfuls of sulfurous flame into the air. Scalding heat singed Jehon’s face as he squeezed his eyes shut, tears streaming from the acrid smoke. But the Creature squeezed even tighter, causing Jehon’s vision to blur.
How had it come to this? As a boy Jehon had dreamed of becoming one of the infamous White Knights, and after joining the Order he had proudly carried the banner emblazoned with the mighty lion of Joh-El, the Great King. He had trained hard, and his teachers had been quite impressed with how well he had learned to handle a sword. But now, as he faced the first great battle of his life, it appeared that it would also be his last.
Jehon squirmed helplessly in the Dragon’s terrible grasp, his lungs screaming for air. He had charged into battle so fearlessly, convinced that he had grown strong and cunning enough to handle anything. Instants later, his life was quickly fading.
“By His Strength,” the White Knights used to repeat solemnly.
Something deep within Jehon’s mind snapped awake. “By His Strength,” his mind whispered. “Trust the Maker… for that is where your strength comes from.”
The harder he had struggled, the tighter the Dragon’s grip had become. Now, in a moment of complete desperation, Jehon forced his muscles to relax. “Please help me, Maker,” he prayed from the depths of his soul. “Without You, I am nothing.”
The next instant, Jehon slumped into a free-fall as he slipped from the Dragon’s mighty claws. His lungs managed one exquisite breath before he splashed into the cool waters of a river below.
And he emerged from the waters a True Warrior, at last.
Save yourself like a gazelle escaping from a hunter, like a bird fleeing from a net.