A cold, dark voice, yet eager, rang out in the middle of the dark room. "Son, it is time now for me to teach you the Dark Arts... You shall continue the noble work of mine when it is time when I die. One cannot live forever, I had learned, as it is against the nature of a living being. However," the voice grew more insane and loud, "one's spirit can linger forever and ever!" A flash of lightning lit up the room, and as the black curtains, torn with claw marks were blown up by a gust of wind, a cloaked dragon and a childragon(child-dragons) were revealed. 'For example, you need to learn how to kill-" The childragon seemed confused at first, but he was now horrified. "Father! How can you? I would never, ever learn to kill! I hate the Dark Arts! I am ashamed to be your son!" All of a sudden, the glass of the window smashed and a dragon leapt through it. Before the cloaked dragon even has time to react, a streak silver light flashed and at the next moment, the cloaked dragon lay dead on the floor, blood oozing out from an opening of the lining of the cloak. The eyes beneath the hood of the stranger watched the childragon closely. Shock was in the bright, blue eyes. Then grief appeared, and finally, unexpectedly, happiness. "I'll let you live, child, for you cannot choose how and where you are born. However, if you ever went on the other way, the bad, dark one, I will not spare you. I sense that you'll be great though," said the stranger. "Thank you," whispered the childragon.