King of Storms
The sound of thunder roaring becomes muffled as I walk up the stone spiral stairs, two seemly endless walls to either side of me, clad of steel armor, the sound of cannon fire echoes inside my memory. The click of armor hitting itself as I walk rumbles through the old, yet impenetrable tower of stone. A blade at my side, a shield hanging from my arm, my vison hindered by my helm, though it may keep me safe, it may also be my downfall. As I glance around the spiralling walls, I notice… singes in the creases. Yet this burn had come from outside. I grunt, and brace my mind for the challenge that is to come, even with the rain and wind storming outside; the towers indoors remain dry, and warm. What flame could have done this in a storm so strong? I think to myself, stopping I rest my hand on a burn mark, still warm… I reluctantly continue up the giant tower, step by step I get closer to what I’ve came to retrieve.
The roar of thunder grows ever louder as I sense I near the top, the air dampens and dries and the same time… Warmth and coldness surround me, as I see the grey light of day; I slowly step out onto the roof of the tower. Left only to see a hulking mass of scales, bone and fire. Closed eyes glare at me, a slumber in the storm. I dare not take another step, in fear of waking the monster. With scales red and jaws wide, the breath the beast gives pulses a sense of warmth my way. I glance around, “How could a beast sleep in such a racket?” I wonder to myself. I catch sight of what it is I came to retrieve. A silver crown, adorned with jewels of all color and lined with gold, it rests atop the pile of gold which most likely belongs to the beast. I step closer. “Fool” I mutter to myself before the dragons’ eyes slam open, and with a burning growl it rears its ugly head back.
With a roar to rival the strength of the storm around us it awakens. With audible sharpness my hand quickly draws my finely made blade from its sheath. My heart beats like a drum, and an almost never ending chime ticks in my brain.
Judgement day. Training as a squire never prepares you for a battle of such legendary awe you feel when facing such a powerful and fearful creature. With a quick slash of my steel blade I realise, this dragon is faster than a human blade. It draws its own blade, its teeth and charges forward quickly snapping my pathetic blade in half. Bone clashes against metal, and soon and easily it has cut through my metal armor as if it was liquid. Time appears to slow, as I fall backwards, the roar of thunder and dragons alike muffled. Seconds feel like hours and pain never ends; yet the dragon does not give in.
Reparations. Streaks of energy flash across the sky, and the echo of thunder rumbles in my head. Towering over me, the outline of a creature. Scales so strong, it was as if they were lined with stone. Teeth sharper than any blade and an iron will far more dangerous than all. A quick flash of light blinds me. When I come back to my sense, the dragon is downed, stone scales torn off its back, steam replacing them. Without a pause I reach for my broken sword. Within a few seconds I find myself on the beasts back and with one quick stab, the beast falls.
Free-fall. My mind stops thinking and lets go, the dragon soaring limp below me, as I fall down through the clouds, through the roaring storm and the burning lighting. Outlines of the dragons mangled and twisted body below me.
My eyes open and I see the twisted body of the dragon. Yet, my sword had not pierced its scales. Had the storm killed it? Or was it the gods. Surely it was not the fall, or I too would be in a mangled state. With a weakened force I push myself to stand, blood rolls off my bent and twisted armor that confides and tightly keeps its iron grip on me. With a glance up, sunlight pierces the dark lights of my helm. I both feel proud and ashamed, knowing it was not my blade that had cut the beast down. But I shall live to tell the tale. Rays of sunlight shine past the scaled deceased body. As if it were hollow, I see my prize. A simple wooden crown. No gems or jewels, just cracks and knots adorn this crown. I dare not touch this crown, but feel as if I do feel something, perhaps, this crown is something more. Perhaps it means nothing. Maybe everything has meaning, yet we only perceive it if we wish to?
Maybe everything means nothing.
Or… is nothing, meaningful?
An abyss cannot speak, it cannot walk, talk or even move, but it still frightens us.
Light doesn’t talk to us, but it still comforts us.
A dragon does as a dragon does; yet we as humans hate them
Perhaps a dragon reminds us that even the foulest, kindest and even quietest mean something to everything.
Perhaps it simply wishes for a feast.
I think a dragon, is an effigy of humanities dark side.
Greedy and power hungry.
Wishing for all it wants to be and taking it by force
And wanting all the power it can have to take what it wishes.
So do not, see a dragon as a simple beast.
See it as a man.
Cody Perry is a 14 year old grade 9 student from PWK High School in Ft. Smith. He started to enjoy creative writing in grade 6 and now writes all the time. He likes writing about people who are unusual or creating his own creatures and worlds. Cody enjoys reading fantasy and horror. His favourite writer is Tolkien.