Ralvin was a small boy with a heart that beat like a steady drum, living in a house that felt like a sleeping giant once the lights went out.

He stood in the center of his bedroom, his blue pajamas glowing silver in the moonlight that spilled through the blinds.

Around his shoulders, he had knotted a heavy, fuzzy blanket into a knight’s cape that trailed behind him like a royal robe of wool.

In his right hand, he gripped a wooden sword carved from an old scrap of pine, his knuckles white with purpose. High above his bed, jagged grey shapes flickered and danced across the wallpaper. To anyone else, they were just patches of darkness, but to Ralvin, they were Moon Dragons with smoky wings and starlight eyes, and he was the only knight brave enough to face them.