The Dreamer And The Dragon

• Cade Swanson, Grade 9, Calvin Secondary School
• Short Story
• 2017

Excellence Award in the 'Spread The Word 2017' competition

The boy stood atop a hill. The night was cold and merciless. It bit through his three layers of clothing like a hot knife through butter. He shivered, his hand nearly slipping from the hilt of the weapon that he was so very unfamiliar with. He was weary, ill-equipped and unskilled for the job he had come to do, but still, he felt that he had to do it.
The full moon shone through a gap in the clouds, saturating the countryside with its pale fire while the ground shook with a sudden and powerful force. Trees and their leaves trembled in the wake of a gale that felt like the sky's wrath was falling onto the land. The boy dropped his sword, nearly severing a few toes in the process. It bounced and flew down the hill, landing with an ungraceful clatter at the bottom.
"Dammit," he hissed. He made to run after it, but it was already too late. Behind him, almighty wingbeats forced the wind to scream, blowing the trees into splinters. The boy flattened himself to the ground just in time. He covered his ears and braced himself until an impossibly loud thump told him that the aggressor had landed.
"What are you doing here, child?" a primal voice boomed, alien and unplaceable in gender.
The boy slowly got to his feet, dazed, but feeling lucky to be alive. He turned to the speaker and felt his fortune was fading fast.
The beast was enormous, far bigger than he had imagined. It stood there, a wall of glittering amethyst scales. Almost cat-like was its stance, perched precariously on the hill, which seemed almost unable to bear its weight. It cocked its head to one side and studied the boy. It took him longer than it should have for the boy to realise a question had been asked of him.
“...I'm...here to...to kill you.” he stuttered, knowing full well the dragon could crush him under one toe.
“If that is the case, where is your weapon, o noble warrior?” the dragon asked, golden eyes gleaming.
The boy eased. His would-be opponent seemed to be legitimately curious, albeit in a condescending way.
“I..I dropped it.” he looked to the ground and scratched his head. “I'm supposed to kill you because something's been stealing my father's livestock and...I wanted to prove myself. If I could prove that I killed a dragon...then maybe Dad...maybe everyone would respect me more.”
“But does that give you a good reason to do it?”
“No,” the boy stared at his feet, unable to meet the dragon's gaze. “No, it doesn't. I don't know what I was thinking,” he sighed.
“All you wanted to do was be the hero in your own story. I don't think you are mentally capable of killing another person.”
The boy looked up at the last word.
“Come fly with me,” the dragon hummed.
A surprised expression crossed the boy's face for a brief moment. Hesitantly, he nodded.