The Dragon

Originally written 01/03/18.

The dragon came on a rush of black scales, huge gusts of air, and the overwhelming stench of ozone. It swooped low over the panicked sheep, scattering them like ants. The sound it made was deafening, wings smacking the air, stirring clouds of dust that rose amid the herd. Blind and deaf, the poor animals didn’t stand a chance. The dragon plucked two sheep and rose into the air. It cut a fearsome, reptilian silhouette against the blue sky, with the sun shooting glances of silver off its hide.

Across the countryside, heads turned, following the dragon’s flight into the mountains. Doors were barred, and children gathered close. Superstitious hands made signs to ward off evil.

In the palace, the ministers wiped sweat off their powdered brows and stowed trembling fingers in silken sleeves. The king looked thunderous.

“How dare that beast maraud the skies and torment our countrymen further! It was sheep today - tomorrow it could be a child! This cannot continue!” The king’s heels beat a frenetic pace along the shiny rim of the royal dais. “Come, my good men, advise me. How might I rid my country of this terror?”

He clasped both hands behind his back and pointed his bearded chin at one counselor after another.

“Hmm? What good word have we to share?”

The advisors shifted. Their eyes darted around the chamber. 

“Who would believe it?” scoffed the king. “The finest minds in the nation stymied by a glorified snake!” He snorted, but the color was high in his cheeks. “Give me one man with a take on this dragon and I will be that man’s solution for the rest of his life. Any challenge of his, I will resolve. Any desire of his, I will see granted.”

The offer hung like diamonds in the air.

“I will do it,” said a voice. The attendants whirled to gape at the speaker. 

“You?” squeaked the king.

“Yes, me,” said the prince. “Give me my desire and I will take on your dragon.”

“Your desire,” the king repeated. His eyes were wide and shiny like coins in his face. “What is it you desire, son? The kingdom is already yours!”

“Ah,” said the prince. “Well that is a slight problem.”

“This is madness,” barked the king. “You shan't go slaying dragons, boy. You are the crown prince of this kingdom, and you belong right here.”

“You asked for one man,” said the prince. He pointed to himself. “You have one.”

“Gah,” said the king. He turned a beribboned back on the room and took a long look at his throne. The prince waited, hands clasped before him. The courtiers shifted and looked around the chamber. “So be it,” said the king at last. He whirled on his son, eyes flashing like dragon scales. “Find the beast. Destroy it. And come home.”

The prince bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.” He strode from the hall.

The king seated himself on the royal throne. He raised his chin, beard pointing straight ahead. His hands gripped the golden arms of the chair, the carved lion’s faces imprinting in his palms. “Well?” he demanded of the nearest attendant. “Next order of business!”