“Hello, it is I, again, the last of the Dragons.
I do so enjoy a good tale now and then. The literature of the human species is absolutely fascinating to me. However, it does bother me greatly when
an author attempts to pass off fiction as fact. It boggles my mind how the truth of the matter got so twisted and warped after only a few centuries.
I did a little research, and discovered, to my great dismay, that the false story is the accepted version of events, no less! It is amazing how one
proponent of misinformation can so completely alter the veracity of a piece of history.
Seeking to rectify this wrong, I shall now relate to you the real events, as they truly occurred. I should know, for I was there.
Behold! The true story of Sir George and the Dragon!”
SIR GEORGE AND THE DRAGON
I had just spent an exhilarating afternoon soaring the skies over that little island… what is it called by humans? Ah, yes. England. I was
reveling in the beautiful weather; the clear, cerulean sky, the glistening, golden sunlight, and a slight, cooling breeze at my back. Perfect flying
conditions! Oh, I was enjoying myself so very much; there is nothing quite like flying, you know.
Flying tends to make me hungry, and this time was no exception, so I decided to look about for a tiny snack. I spotted a herd of cattle several miles
off, so I headed in that direction. When I got closer, I noticed that a colony of humans were living next to the cattle. As I approached, all of the
humans left the colony in a mass exodus to the north for some reason.
I hovered above the nearest cow, which was mooing quite rudely at me. I stretched out my right foreclaw, seized the bovine snack, and bit into its
succulent, juicy torso. Mmm!
Devouring the cow in three quick bites, I immediately pounced upon the next cow, which let out a short bleat before I ate it. I looked about me, and
counted the remaining cows, of which there were thirty-seven. I selected four more cows, those that appeared to be oldest, and ate those ones. I
always leave some behind, so that they will reproduce, and provide a meal for me sometime in the future. I have learned, the hard way, how very
important it is never to wipe out a particular species.
Eating tends to make me sleepy, so I cast my eyes about for a good resting-place, and found a wonderful bed of soft, golden wheat quite close by the
cattle herd and the abandoned human colony. How fortunate! I landed in the wheat field, and settled down for a nice, summer snooze.
I awoke to someone tickling me in the chest.
How peculiar! I thought. Tickling a sleeping dragon? I opened my eyes and beheld the strangest sight. It was a horse! A horse was tickling me
with an odd-shaped piece of metal! This was absolutely fascinating to me, as I had no idea that horses were skilled in metallurgy, or that they had
any predisposition to tickle sleeping dragons, so I allowed this to continue for a moment, while I simply observed.
The horse circled away to a distance about the length of my body, and then charged forward, carrying the twisted, misshapen piece of metal on its
back. The heap of metal had a long shaft sticking out of it, and it was this point that the horse then proceeded to jab into my chest again,
producing the tickling sensation. The silly animal then backed away and rushed forward to tickle me again!
I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh. I had been trying not to; I didn’t know if it would offend the horse or not. I obviously knew much less
about horses than I thought I had, if they could craft metal in such detail, and did not wish to make a mistake again where this equine creature was
concerned.
When I began my laughter, the horse stopped. Oh dear, I thought, I hope I didn’t upset the poor thing. Then, to add to my amazement, the horse
spoke to me! Shouted, actually. It said, “Damn you, vile beast! Will you not fight me?”
Well! I certainly don’t appreciate being talked to in that manner!
“I beg your pardon?” I asked.
The horse snorted. “I say, will you not fight me?”
I shook my head. “I most certainly will not,” I replied, “I gave up fighting a very long time ago. It’s terribly foolish, and almost
inevitably results in someone getting hurt.”
“Coward!” The horse screamed, and then tickled me some more with the silly-looking piece of metal. I resolved not to utter a peep of laughter,
this time.
“I am curious,” I began, “I have never seen a talking horse, before. How is it that you can speak?”
The horse stopped. The contraption on its back moved, pulling on itself at the top. I blinked in surprise. There was a human face inside the metal
device! I realized my mistake then; how silly I had been! This was no talking horse; this was a knight! I had seen them before in my travels, and
should have recognized this one sooner for what it was.
“Are you stupid as well as a coward?” the knight taunted, raising the tickler that I now realized was called a ‘lance’ at me. That meant this
knight was actually trying to hurt me!
I sighed. “Sir Knight, I have nothing against you. There is no reason for you to act so violently. In addition, you will never succeed in
wounding me with your lance; I am immune to such weapons.”
The knight, however, was not deterred by my words. “Vile beast, you have attacked this village, which I am sworn to protect with my life. One of
us will not survive this day.” And the brave but foolhardy knight spurred his horse forward, and attempted to run me through again.
I was taken aback by that. I had not attacked anyone, except for a few cows, and that only for food. “I did not attack this village,” I replied,
“All I did was eat a few cows.” This knight seemed awfully confused to me.
“How can you sit there and lie about your misdeeds, foul creature,” the knight shouted, “when the evidence is all about you? Your bloated body
as we speak now crushes a year’s worth of crops. The entire village had to flee or be devoured, and you have the gall to claim you did
nothing?”
Oh, dear! That simply had not occurred to me. The very bed of wheat that had served me so well as a mattress had been growing as food for those poor
runaway humans, apparently afraid I was going to eat them.
“I am very sorry, Sir Knight, I had no intentions of causing any trouble. I shall fix the problem immediately.” I flapped my wings, and lifted
myself off of the field of wheat. The horse screamed (yes, the horse this time, I am sure) and threw the knight to the ground, and bolted away as
fast as it could. The knight took several moments to stand up, evidently weighed down by the suit of chain mail he wore. With a clang of metal, he
drew a sword from the scabbard at his waist, and attempted to cut open my underbelly. Of course, a sword was no good for that task. I lifted myself
just high enough to keep out of the knight’s reach, and waited for him to calm down.
“Now, Sir Knight,” I said, “I shall rectify the situation immediately.”
I do not know if you are aware, but Dragons possess magical powers. At least, those who do not understand them call them magical. I used those
powers then on the wheat, closing my eyes and waving my forepaws slightly as I concentrated. I straightened the wheat back to its full height, and
also coaxed it into growing even beyond that a little bit, just for good measure. The knight dropped his sword in astonishment and gaped in silence
as I repaired the field of wheat. It took only a minute or two, then it was done.
“Sir Knight. I cannot replace your cows, but I have righted your grain. There is no sense trying to hurt me; you shall not succeed, and besides, I
mean you or your kind no harm. If I had wanted to, I could have destroyed you at any time, but I didn’t.” To prove my point, I spewed a small
jet of flame into the sky, hot enough to have turned the knight and his armor into a bubbling liquid mess.
I think the knight finally came to his senses at this point, and realized I wasn’t his enemy. He fell to his knees, and whispered, “I cannot
believe my eyes.” I tend to get that reaction a lot when I use my magic for some reason.
“Again, my apologies about the cows; I did not realize they belonged to anyone. Now, if there is nothing else, I’ll be going.”
“Wait, noble Dragon,” the knight begged. I waited. “There is something you can do, to make up for the cows.”
Oh, good! I was so happy to hear this! I felt so awful about eating from those poor peoples herd. “If it is in my power to do so,” I
promised.
The knight lowered his head. “I swore on my honor to the villagers that I would bring back your head or die trying. Since I cannot harm
you…”
“Oh, I see.” I thought I understood. “This will only take a few moments, Sir Knight.”
“George. Sir George,” the knight said.
“Sir George. Very well, I shall oblige your request.” I began to call upon my magic again. While I did so, I noticed the knight shivering with
fear below me; why, I could not imagine. He must still be nervous about magic, I reasoned. I carefully wove the threads of magic, and watched my
creation take form, growing out of the dirt, larger and larger. It began to assume the beautiful greenish hue of my kind. Oh, how I missed seeing
that color! Finally, it was finished.
As the magic finished, the knight stopped his shivering and looked up tentatively, and saw my creation. His eyes bulged in surprise and relief. He
looked up, and the look on his visage was replaced by one of perplexity.
I had formed an imitation Dragon’s head out of the soil of the earth. It was only the size of a Dragon child’s head, but any bigger and Sir
George could not have possibly lifted it. I do not know what Sir George had been expecting, but it had apparently been something very different,
indeed.
“Th-thank you!” Sir George stammered, “Thank you for sparing me!”
“You are most welcome, Sir George, although I had no intention of harming you, as I believe I mentioned earlier. There is your Dragon’s head; I
believe my debt is now repaid. I shall be off, now. Good day, Sir George.” And with that, I took to the skies again. It was still prime flying
conditions, after all; such days should not be wasted sleeping, now, should they?
“I do not know what Sir George did after that, but apparently the man was more than a little dishonest in relating his deeds to his fellows. The
stories I have read about this event claim that Sir George vanquished me in combat (haha!) in an epic struggle, which, as anybody who knows anything
about Dragons knows, is absolutely ridiculous. No human would last two seconds against a Dragon, and no human could possibly slay a Dragon; we are,
after all, immortal. Strangely, people believed his fanciful tale, and it became the accepted version of truth.”
“I hope you enjoyed my tale of SIR GEORGE AND THE DRAGON. I have many, many more tales to tell, more than I could possibly tell to you in your
lifetime. I shall now ponder which of my life’s experiences I shall share with you next. Until then…”
-Dragon