Fate of Dragons

The hand is metallic red with claws the size of a grown man’s thigh, yet with the delicacy and precision of a loving father, the dragon reaches down to the young boy’s hand and picks up the small offering of a single rock crystal.  With eyes that have seen without time, the mighty dragon inspects the delicacy of this small crystal.  This crystal represents all the boy has left in the world, and its offering moves the dragon to tears and with a feeling of inadequacy over this offering, he places it on the highest golden table, for all to see.  The boy’s mouth opens in awe of where his gift has been consigned, and he moves backwards towards the entrance of the grotto.

“My child, what work is it that you perform?” asked the Ancient One.  “I help dig the trenches around the Holy Places, moving the earth locks and keeping water sluices clear too, my Lord.” 

“Then you, mover of earth, will be known as Toiler.”  It was the only thing the dragon could give this young boy for this, the greatest gifts lying within his mighty cavern.

The time is Winter’s Tidefest, which belongs to all the community as it is the day that the dragon ascends into the heavens to force the Sun to not wander off much further from his appointed rounds in the sky.  It has been a day of great rejoicing by all humans in the region since they first arrived many thousands of years ago during the Age of the Ices.  It is a great time of feasting for the humans as well as a time for all the dragons to likewise demonstrate the force of their protection of the humans.

However, these Tidefests are attended with fewer and fewer people through the years, as the new belief enters the land like spies and thieves; tearing into the Ancient Ways and calling them “demonic” or “possessed with evil.”  They started by stealing away both of the very Tidefests both Winter and Spring, and renaming them as “holy days,” in the image of their Pierced One.  The humans in their flowing robes and finery that rivals the richest lair of the oldest dragon, are called “priests” and they force the humans into an unnatural position by telling the groveling humans that they are sinners and that all things related to the Ancient Ways are evil or demonic and must be abandoned or better as yet, destroyed.

This dragon’s piercing eyes cannot see the evil or demon held within a mound of earth or the edifices of sarsen stones, or even within a piece of rock crystal, which he again picks up.  A tear begins to drop from his eye, but he wipes it away.  The boy was the last of the humans to enter his lair today, so now the time has come to spread his wings and fly forth into the heavens, just high enough that he can see the arc of blue that gives the planet life, and the darkness that envelopes it in death.

He allows himself to fall backwards, pulled back by the loving arms of the earth, burning without pain upon his entering the breathable air.  The sight is an amazing one, even in the middle of the day, and the hundred or so humans gasp in wonder at the spectacle of the Ancient One.

This year, the dragon chooses to crash near the village where most of the humans have come to attend Winter’s Tidefest, and in doing so, the weight and heat of his fall causes ejecta to fly wildly from the impact.  This time, the ejecta are brightly colored yellow globs of a soft yellow metal; they are gold.  He had been feasting on it for days prior to this ceremony, knowing full well that he could at the same moment of impact make it appear to come from within his body.  This way, the Ancient One gives to the humas, as he takes from the humans.  There is little regard by the humans about the “how” that this happens.

A little known fact:  Dragons have three small rows of ventricles on their sides that with training can be used to give them the great maneuverability as they fly.  It is from here that the gold came forth; a much practiced deception as well, but one used for the good of the people.  It’s a very delicate trick, but at least the dragon’s actions are done in public for all to see, never behind closed doors.  All are welcome to the gifts bestowed by the Ancient One; few are ever allowed to seek assistance in gold from the richly robed men of the new belief.

Many dozens of years have passed now, and while the dragon seems ageless, he is aware only of the passing of a beloved human’s life, and this is the measure of time for him.  There is a drought on the land, as there are no Toilers to keep the small channels of the larger river and streams open; there are too many feast days and services that keep the humans from properly working the earth and in reality, it seems that all that is ever done is in a fast.  This, and the fact that both Spring’s Tidefest as well as Winter’s Tidefest are no longer celebrated, but the new beliefs have been persecuted with vengeance.  Most have abandoned the Ancient One in favor of the Resurrected One.  “I should very much like to meet him someday” mulls the dragon and begins to think about this new belief that allows consuming human flesh and the imbibing of human blood.  Word has reached the dragon that though they were a great and powerful species on this planet, many have been murdered, and many more have fled to either more welcoming environs or out to the Sun itself.

“I wonder how one does that, fly to the Sun.”  On his next to last Winter’s Tidefest, the Ancient One flew to the edge of the blue arc, and tried to fly further but failed wretchedly, as there was no air to push against with his massive wings. 

His last Spring’s Tidefest, had seen him gorging himself on the last of the gold, silver and precious stones, save one; a small rock crystal, his most cherish possession.  This year, he crashed down directly into the courtyard of the new belief’s building.  The building turned instantly from stone to gold.  Diamonds and gems are also strewn out from his sides passing through the dragon’s body.  Then the dragon waited for the Resurrected One to come out.

The first few steps were tentative; two altar boys came out to see what had happened.  In the background was the sound of sobbing and babies crying.  He never intended for this reaction, he could never see himself as harming anyone of the precious humans, even if they have forsaken the Old Ways.  This was absolutely not the contact he wished to have with these people.  Heaving his body up, and expressing the air from his sides, the dragon leapt into the air, and flew away, very far away.

Nearly a year has passed since then, and the dragon hears the cries of a young woman.  They are indistinct, but growing louder as she apparently draws nearer.  She has been brutally tied to a post with a cross-bar near the top, and this has been mounted on a wagon.  She is a virgin offering to the dragon from the villagers, to prevent the horror of the last Resurrection Feast, or so the two burly men yell to the dragon.  “Take her, and leave us alone!” and they ran from the presence of the Ancient One as quickly as their thick legs would take them.

“Take her? Take her where?” thought the dragon.  The men are not alone in the far distance, as there is a dazzling movement of gold near the men; it is a priest performing some sort of ritual and splashing in the direction of the girl with water from a golden bucket.  When they have left, the dragon simply unties the girl, who in terror, runs with breakneck speed back to the village many miles away.  The dragon stretches his mighty wings and flies to the building within which the Resurrected One resides.  Landing on the highest bell-tower, the dragon roars “I require no more sustenance from you humans, nor have I ever sought the flesh and blood of any human being.  I have returned your maiden to you unharmed, and believe that you, golden robed priest, are only looking for reasons to persecute me and my kind.  You have long sought ways and means to consume the Old Ways of the people who were here millennia before you.  Now LEAVE ME IN PEACE!”  The last four words were spoken as the dragon lowered his body, and flames shot from his mouth, burning the trees in the front of the building, but not reducing them to ashes; instead, they flowered; “for good dramatic effect” thought the dragon.

A Summer’s day found the following words bellowed into the mouth of the dragon’s den:  “Greedy, filthy dragon, I command you in the name of all that is holy to come out of your cowardice and face me!”  By now, the Ancient One knew that he was now the last of his species as his mental connection to the others was now silent, and the dragon knew also that knights had become monthly occurrences, if not a little more of late.  This one he knew was no different, and he also knew that he had at least enough time to formulate a plan, while the knight read the new beliefs Bull of Holy Wrath which allowed him to hunt all dragons with impunity.

“Vile filth, you are the reason our crops do not grow.  Unholy spawn of demons you are the reason our children hunger.  Contemptible wickedness from the fiery depth, you are the reason that evil now rejoices and that the devil himself has been seen to wander about the earth seeking whom he may devour.”

“What, no edict?” thought the dragon.  “This one must be desperate to be rid of me.” 

And with those three sentences uttered the knight rode directly into the dragon’s lair with a diamond tipped spear tucked under his arm and buttressed against a metal saddle that is mounted on a grey horse. 

“What?!” roared the dragon.  “You dare enter into my sacred realm?” 

“I may enter anywhere I choose, Filth!” said the knight. “Dragon, there is nothing sacred about you or you realm; you are the last of your kind.  We have hunted you down and persecuted those who share in your venomous beliefs.  You now have come to personally represent all that is evil and wicked about the Old Ways.  You lie, you have led souls astray, you steal, you rob us of our virgin women and you cheat us from our proper birthright.

“You are the last of your kind, and with your death, I Sir George, will usher into this world a new age; an age of peace and prosperity, where we may live without fear of attack or retribution from any dragon of the Ancient Ages.  With a sweep of my spear, the last of the pagan ages will pass, and the life of Resurrected One will be the rule of conscience and compassion.

“Now prepare for battle, or die with cowardice in your heart; it makes no matter to me dragon.”

The dragon thought to himself “I am Ancient, even amongst my own kind.  Perhaps it is time to find a way to fly to the Sun.”  From the depths of his compassion, he chooses to try one last time to show that the Ancient One is not the monster all have made him out to be.  He opened his giant maw, and breathed fire upon the Knight and his horse.  To the amazement of the Knight, the fire was cool, and the horse did not rear.  Looking down in bewilderment, the Knight saw that his horse was now the purest white, and any metal whether it is riding tack or armor, was now a beautiful gold.

Looking back up at the dragon, the Knight sees that the dragon has silently sat back on his haunches and has spread his wings to their fullest.  A glint of light shines for a brief moment, and seems to come from deep within the center of the dragon’s chest.  It is gone as quickly as it appeared, and the Knight took direct aim where the light emerged.

With an arm that had muscles built and trained for this Holy Work, the Knight launches his spear at the dragon.

To the Knight, it was a most satisfying sound of “k-chunk” as the diamond lodged itself within the depths of the Ancient One’s chest, piercing the heart.  For the dragon, there was an odd sense of weightlessness.  He looked up and saw the Sun and he reached for it.  Then something happened that the dragon could never have anticipated; the Resurrected One stood there with his hands open:  Hands that had endured a cruel and too early of a death.  With the delicacy and precision of a loving son caring for an aged father, the dragon reaches out to gently take the extended hand of the Resurrected One, and at that moment, he seemed to have new eyes, as he saw hundreds of thousands of dragons flying around him, with countless humans reaching out to touch the Ancient One in awe and reverence; welcoming him to his new eternal home, hand in hand with the Resurrected One.

The Knight approached the carcass of the dragon and saw what had been the source of the brief moment of light; a rock crystal that hung from a golden chain.  The crystal had written on one facet; “Toiler” and skipping one facet, the next had “earth mover” written on it; and again, skipping the following facet, on the third facet was written; “George.”  Around the metal bezel that held the crystal in place was written:  “An earth mover by any other name is still an earth mover.”

Taking the crystal necklace out into the light, Sir George held it up to eye level, and steadied it with his other hand.  “Could this be?” he wondered.  His mind goes back to too many dozens of years, and remembers a great Red Dragon, and a small rock he had found while cleaning the earthen sluices that controlled the water flows.  The rock was put on a golden table, and all the community stood with him in awe that the dragon had chosen something so simple, and yet made it so precious.

© Elizabeth Bathory