Saint George And The Dragon Of Toscaham

• Sarah Watson
• Short Story
• 2006

Chapter one: the wind

The village of Toscaham was a simple and peaceful place. The people of the village were all friends. The village stood stranded in the middle of the desert, but the villagers were happy. They bred cattle and supplied their own food for each other.
Once a yeah the village would celebrate the day Saint George defeated the evil dragon, Corgath. They called that day Saint George Day. This day had come around, and at this very moment they were celebrating in the great palace.
“Let us celebrate this day in great happiness,” yelled the mayor in front of the village people. “For we know that Saint George defeated the evil dragon Corgath, who terrorized this village for twenty years, and because of Saint George we live in happiness. We have been celebrating this day for ten years now and during that time we have been searching in vain to find Saint George. Unfortunately, so far we have had no luck, but we shall find him in the end,” The mayor of the village fell quiet after finishing his speech, and so the celebration began.


۞۞۞


Half way through the party some keen sensed people took notice of small vibrations in the ground. As the vibrations became rougher, the villages began to hear a sound, like a giant stomping. As the stomping grew louder, a great wind began to build, but it did not attack until it became so strong that it finally gave away and the great wind let go and sent the beautiful palace crumbling to bits.
As the palace began to crumble, the people within the walls began screaming and yelling, they all ran towards the two large doors that led outside the palace and into the village. When most of the villagers were out of the crumbling palace they started to look towards the direction from which the sound was coming from.
As the people saw what had sent the vibrations, the stomping sound and the strong wind, they groaned, for what beheld them was a massive monster of a dragon. The dragon had a jaw lined with double rows of razor and kind of blackish teeth, which was enough to send a shiver down your spine, but there was more. The dragon in whole was red with dirty scales that ran down his leg meeting his claws, the dragons claws itself were as sharp as its teeth. The dragon’s long red tail danced about as if it had a mind of its own.
The people of Toscaham were struck with a terrorizing fear, they couldn’t bring themselves to move, for they know that what beheld them wasn’t just any dragon, it was the dragon of wind, Corzan, and even worse, Corzan wasn’t here just for a bit of fun, he was here for revenge on his mothers death, this dragon was the mighty dragon, Lisara’s son.


۞۞۞

But fortunately for the people of Toscaham, Saint George had sensed a dragon near by, and he wasn’t going to let it get away.
He jumped onto his trusty horse, General, and galloped in the direction to which he could smell the dragon.
When Saint George came to a small village in the blazing desert he immediately recognized as a village he had saved from another dragon just ten years ago. Soon after Saint George spotted the village he spotted the dragon, he could see that it was red but with dirty scales and it seemed to be holding its breath somehow, almost suffocating, but before Saint George could think on the matter anyone more, the dragon let go of the breath, it met with the wind, surprisingly they joined forces and created a great wind. The wind flew in the direction of the town’s people standing outside a crumbling palace. The crowd of people fell, one after the other, like dominos. Unfortunately Saint George had been coming from behind the crowd and it seemed he was next in line. Saint George braced himself for the wind, he held on fight to his frightened horse, then before he knew it a huge gust of wind smashed into him. Saint George closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

Chapter two:
The battle

When Saint George woke he was under the heavy weight of his horse, which had fallen over with the power of the wind. When he managed to get out under his beloved horse, he checked seeing if he was still alive, he was, but just.
Saint George paused and suddenly all the memories came flooding back, the dragon, the wind…. wait he thought if that dragon was red, and was the dragon of the wind, he would be Corzan. Saint George gulped; if he was here for revenge then he is going to be angry, very angry.
Saint George looked over at the village; he had only been unconscious for a minute or more, the villagers were getting ready to fight, arming themselves with what looked like pitchforks and some other un-useful things.
Saint George unsheathed his sword and charged into Toscaham, to save once again, their home.



۞۞۞


As the crowd of villagers charged, Saint George decided he would stay back and attack with his crossbow. He retrieved his crossbow from his back, took out one of his black arrows and aimed at the dragon’s armored section of its head, just as the knight had aimed. The dragon roared in laughter. The dragon’s laughter filled Saint George’s head, dragons still have a sense of humor Saint George thought to himself with a grin,
He knocked another arrow this time aiming to the dragons open mouth, as he let go of the string he whispered a small spell. The arrow hit its target, lodged in one of the dragon’s gums, but it did not fall as George had hoped. He must be protected by some kind of spell. He thought. Though the dragon did not fall, it did roar out in pain as any dragon would when he had an arrow lodged in its gum. As the dragon roared, Saint George felt the ground beneath him shake; he looked at the dragon and at the people below his mighty stomach. He sighed, he had hoped, he had really hoped that he wouldn’t have to use it, but if he wanted to save the village of Toscaham, he would have to.
Saint George pulled an ancient looking arrow out of his quiver, the dragon glimpsed the arrow. The dragon had thought that Saint George wouldn’t even have the arrow!
The ancient looking arrow was the arrow of Alethia, if the arrow were to draw blood from a dragon, it would instantly die.
As Saint George pulled the arrow out from his quiver, Corzan charged towards the knight knocking some unlucky villagers out of his way. Before Saint George could react he was in the dragons claws leveled with its eyes. “Do you have any last words, Corzan?” Saint George asked bravely.
“You who killed my mother, have no right to be called dragonslayer, you are a murderer and you shall pay for what you have done,” replied the dragon staring at Saint George.
Saint George sighed, he knew what would happen if he were to stab the dragon, therefore drawing blood, but he cared not. He grabbed his crossbow, knocked the ancient arrow of Alethia, and before the dragon could do anything, Saint George took aim, and fired. He watched as the arrow flew towards the dragons open mouth and lodged itself into one of his gums. The dragon let go a horrible shriek, but Saint George did not hear it, nor did he hear the dragon slowly fall, all he heard was his heart beat, he could hear it echoing in his ears, till the last one, and from then on, the heart shall never beat again.