He hadn't been known as Sven since he was a boy

The word prompt this week was a bit specific on subject so I had fun trying to keep the tone light.

He hadn’t been known as Sven since he was a boy. His father hadn’t been that imaginative in names and once he’d been old enough, he’d gotten rid of the name.

Well more like earned his new name. He had survived a roving army, reaching the capital alone through bandits and hunger, enrolling in the academy, and not only passing his classes but excelling in them had earned him the right to leave that name behind.

But here he was on his graduation mission when he should have been earning acclaim for his chosen name. Instead Sven had come back to haunt him. Not that anything about this mission was what he expected.

He’d been expecting to be sent after some house pest. Maybe a griffin or a werewolf. A troll perhaps. But not this.

“Have you decided yet, Sven?” He looked up at the scaly creature addressing him and gnawed at his cheek. No, a dragon hadn’t been on his list of possible graduation missions. Being chosen was overrated.

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