The final YCH by the talented  zana6, also featuring  cyberlightning. Check his submission, as well as his version of the story, here!

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I walked by the edge of the training grounds when movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. An orange dragon was there, holding a wooden sword and swinging it wildly at a few training dummies. He thrust and struck with little technique or form, and it showed. He stumbled and tripped many times, leaving himself open many more, seemingly without even realizing. A couple of spectators leaned against the wall and laughed.
“Look at this guy!” one of them jeered. “I’m surprised he knows which end of the sword to hold!”
“How long has he been at it?” I asked the pair as he approached.
“Not long enough, by the looks of it,” replied the other. “Ha, you just missed him getting his sword stuck in his own wing claw! It’s like he doesn’t even know his own body!”

As the two continued to taunt, I kept a close eye on the orange dragon. It was true, what they said. He was lucky he held only a wooden training weapon, with the amount of times he struck his own wings. And he was lucky his opponents were inanimate straw and wood, with the amount of times he left himself clearly open. And he was lucky the ground was flat and soft, with the amount of times he tripped over himself. Still, each time he did, he got back up, and was right back at it, hacking and slashing away, within seconds. His build was impressive enough, too. He was a strong dragon, that much was for sure. And he seemed to refuse to stay down.

The sword went flying from his grip, and the spectators laughed.
“Disarmed by a straw dummy!” the larger one said. “Glad he’s not in the guard. Can you imagine the city’s security being up to this guy?”
I turned to look at the pair. From one glance, it was clear neither of them had held a weapon for longer than a few seconds. One was rather thin and gangly, in a rather ragged tunic. The other, although hardly out of shape, did have a clear paunch. A stark contrast to the display of determination and athleticism that the orange dragon showed.
“You’re right,” I told them. “I think what he needs is a sparring partner to show him the ropes. How about one of you guys pick up one of those weapons and give him a challenge?”

The pair looked back at the orange dragon, and fell silent. Their faces said it all – they now saw not the tumbling buffoon tripping over his own tail, but the powerfully-built dragon who refused to stay down. The smaller one opened his mouth to speak, then looked back up at me, and quickly closed it again.
“That’s what I thought,” I said. I turned my back to the pair and approached him myself. He didn’t notice, having already landed once more on his back. I knelt down beside him and offered a hand.

“That looked like a rough fall,” I said. He opened his eyes, taking a few moments to gather his senses before he was finally able to focus on me. “Need a hand?”
After a few seconds of hesitation, he shoved my hand away roughly, hauling himself back to his feet. “No thank you,” he spat. “I’m perfectly fine. Don’t need a hand.” He turned his back to me, once more focusing on the training dummy.
“Really?” I grabbed at the training sword that had been left in the dust. “You forgot your sword.” I gripped the blade, offering the handle to him as he turned to face me again.
“…thanks,” he grunted, before snatching it out of my grasp and turning back to the dummy. I stepped back, taking a few moments to watch him close-up. Such aggression. Such pent-up rage. The way he flailed so wildly, with such reckless abandon. For a brief moment, it almost appeared as if he were much younger, his scales a deeper red instead of the bright orange.

“Your feet are too close together,” I said. He froze in place, as though weighing up some choices, then turned to look over his shoulder at me. I assumed a simple stance, keeping my feet at shoulder width and my dominant leg forward. “You want them like this. You’re sturdier this way. Keeping them so close will throw off your balance. Any decent shove will knock you clean over. It’ll help to stop you from tripping over yourself, too. You can move any way you need at a moment’s notice.”
I picked up another training sword and held it firm, reassuming my stance and facing the dummy. With a swift step forward, I brought the blade down heavily upon its shoulder, then stepped away from the swinging blade attached to its arm. “See?”
“I didn’t ask for any help,” he said, shoving his way past me. “Now if you could just mind your own business…”
“Look, I have a bit of experience in this area, kid. I’m trying to give you some adv – “

In a flash, the wooden blade was against my neck.
“I told you to leave me be!” he snarled. “I don’t need your help!”
“So that fall was intentional?” The orange dragon’s eyes flicked to the ground, his snarl fading. I smiled. “Thought so.” I stepped away from the dummy, holding the training sword in front of me. “Come at me.”

He needed little convincing, rushing towards me with blade at the ready. Just before he struck, I lifted my own weapon, locking it with his and shoving him aside. In one swift motion, I circled behind him and brought the wooden blade onto the back of his neck.
“You’re strong,” I said, “but you can’t assume your opponent is weak. Reckless abandon will get you nowhere.”
He leapt away and turned to face me again, keeping himself hunched low. He lunged again, landing short as I stepped back, and thrust the sword forward. I turned away and jumped up, holding my sword in both hands and bringing it down on his. He yelped as he grasped the hilt tight, sending him crashing onto the ground. In a second, I was standing above him, blade pointed at him.
“Know when to let go,” I said. “Drop your weapon if you need to, you can always retrieve it later. Your weak point is your defence – you’re too focused on the attack.”

We continued to spar for some time. My words, for the most part, went unheeded – although I couldn’t blame him for it. Nobody changes in the space of a few scant minutes, I thought. I did notice he at least made some attempts, once in a while, to defend himself. It would take some time before it became instinctive, but at least he was paying attention. I used every weapon at my disposal – not just the sword, but kicks, tail swipes, punches, shoves. It seems he noticed, as after a few maneuvers, he started doing the same. He thrust the blade forward, and I turned and leapt back, beating my wings for extra distance.

And there we stood, facing each other for a few intense seconds, before we both charged at once. I held my blade back, ready to thrust, and as we met, time slowed. I saw the other dragon’s face. Something changed. No longer was it twisted in an angry snarl, nor the fierce determination to succeed. Instead, for the briefest moment, he seemed afraid.

He flinched away, withdrawing his sword. I pulled mine away as well as he flew by. Dropping my sword in the dust, I turned to view my opponent. His back was turned to me, and he was on his knees, shaking. To any outsider, it may have seemed odd. But again I saw that red-scaled youth, cowering beneath a gigantic beast, blood streaming from his arm and shattered horn lying about his head, holding his sword shakily in front of him in a vain attempt to ward the beast away. Even among warriors, fear is universal.

I walked to him and rested a hand upon his shoulder. He jumped slightly, but made no other move. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” I said. “You’re bold, courageous, and strong. I’d say you’re a natural at this, if you can only hone your instincts a little.”
After a few seconds, he stopped shaking. I saw a small smile on his face. “Thanks.”
“So you can smile, too.” I grinned and held out my hand. He took it and rose to his feet, keeping firm hold of my hand as he shook it. “My name is Arix.”
“Richard.”
“This world could use more like you, Richard. Keep it up. I want to see a statue honouring you, one day.”

He laughed a little, and at that, I turned to leave.
“Next time,” he called from behind me, “I don’t want you holding yourself back.”
I stopped in my tracks. “You noticed that?”
“I know I keep leaving myself open. You don’t seem like you wouldn’t take advantage of that.”
“…work on it.”