Heart of the Hunted.

Theron had devoted most of his later life to training his swordsmanship.
His early childhood has been spent on a farm, where he lived happily with his family, and Alexander, an orphan they had taken in. Theron and Alexander had spent almost every waking moment together, helping with the farm work or fishing at the nearby creek. Alexander was shy, quiet, and kind. He had a gentle smile that could warm Theron's heart. He was almost the complete opposite of Theron, who was rash, outgoing and mischievous.
But those happy days had ended one night, when their house was set ablaze. Theron had awoken in a panic to a smoke filled room and fled the house, the roar of the fire almost deafening in the still of the night. Then another noise caught his attention.
He turned, and froze, as the silver moonlight glinted off of the ebony black scales of a dragon, throwing its head back, roaring fiercely and spewing flame in to the night sky.
Theron feinted dead away with fear, and awoke to the afternoon sun bearing down on him. A few feet away lay the smoldering rubble of his house.
Theron spent the next week desperately digging through the rubble, but found no identifiable human remains.

He might have lay in the field, crying, until **** claimed him, if it weren't for a band of mercenaries who took him in and taught him the way of the sword.

Over the next few years, Theron dedicated himself wholly to training his swordsmanship, often helping the mercenaries out on the jobs they took. He gained courage and strength from the time he spent with them, and actually slew a few dragons along the way. However, they had all been brown.
Theron never forgot the dragon with the ebony scales. It was that memory that drove him on.
The moment the mercenaries had led him away from the smoldering pile that had once been his home, he swore on his family, and especially on Alexander, that he would have his ****.

One day, in Theron's nineteenth year, the mercenaries were resting for a few days in the village of Sharisse, when Theron overheard a conversation in the local tavern.

"I heard it's still at large."
"What? The black dragon?"
"Aye. It's like a nightmare, they say. Only coming and going in the dead of night, and leaving no trace."

Theron's curiosity was immediately piqued. He turned from where he sat at the bar to listen better, when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He turned to find the owner of the hand, and gaped.
It was Alexander.
Theron blinked. It had to be Alexander, but it couldn't be. He was dead. Theron had searched through every inch of their home's rubble. But the boy that set next to him now was the spitting image of Alexander. He had the same pale skin, and the same raven hair. Even the same soft eyes, though this boy did not look happy or kind, he looked lost.

"I wouldn't pay any mind to them," the boy spoke softly, in the same soft voice Alexander had, "They're drunks, and often babble. There's no such thing as the black dragon."

Theron became more and more convinced that this boy beside him, was infact, Alexander, and he became more and more hurt that Alexander had yet to show any signs of recognizing him.

Theron shoved his hurt deep down and responded to the boy, "The black dragon exists, Alexander. I've seen it."

The boy blanched away from Theron, "What did you call me?"

Theron tried to keep the hurt out of his voice as he spoke, "I called you Alexander. It's your name... Don't you recognize me?"

Pain flashed in the other boy's eye momentarily, "No, I... should I?"

"Yes!" Theron almost shouted, "We lived together years ago! We used to go fishing and help with the farm! I... I thought you were dead." Theron choked out the last bit.

"I... I'm sorry. I do not remember. My name is Kass now."

Theron felt like crying for the first time in years. It felt as if he was losing his best friend all over again.
"Wait..." Theron thought for a moment, "Did you say 'now'? What was your name before?"

The boy who called himself Kass looked away, "I just... don't know. My earliest memory is waking up in a forest, cold, and alone. I don't know who I am."

Theron felt renewed hope and reached for the boy's arm, "Then you must be Alexander. Come with me, I'll help you remember who you are," but Theron flinched as the other boy jerked his arm away.

"It would be better, for both of us, if I did not." And with that, the boy who called himself Kass, stood up, and left the tavern, leaving Theron staring sadly in his wake.