A Tale of Dragons - Prompt 5 - Kuchisabishii
A Tale of Dragons
"Gather around, children," she said, nestling in her privileged spot near the fireplace. It was a windy, rainy day and the three girls and one boy were beginning to drive their parents crazy. It was too cold and too muddy for them to play outdoors, and the wind was howling with the promise of overnight snow. The siblings jostled for position, but a sharp stare from their guest ended their sharp elbows and extended feet.
Their mother reached a glass of warm tea over to the storyteller with a grateful look. Anything that would occupy her four older children while she tended to the babe was welcome.
"So," she began, looking at the four sets of eyes bright and open staring at her. "Have you heard of dragons before?"
"Yes!" came a chorus.
"We know all about them," the boy declared, crossing his arms and resembling his father more than he realized.
"All? You know ALL about them?"
Temporarily quelled, the boy merely nodded his head.
"If you truly know ALL about them, can you tell me why we don't see dragons anymore?"
The youngling chewed at his lip, eyes downcast. "No'em. They just aren't," he mumbled.
"Well, young Master, there's a reason for that absence. Would you be interested in hearing about it?" A chorus of "Yes, oh yes, please" followed from all four children. The storyteller nodded and took another sip of tea. "Well then, I will tell you."
"There's some things you need to know about dragons. They grew up quickly - hatching from eggs as brilliant as jewels. They were raised by birds …"
The middle daughter interrupted her. "Birds? Why's a dragon raised by a bird?"
"Well, that's a tale for another day for it's been told before. But, in short, beautiful birds with long, multi-colored tail feathers were actually the dragon mothers."
"But birds aren't dragons."
"Very true, but only boy dragons grew up to become true dragons. The girl dragons grew into beautiful birds with very long, multi-colored tails. They were the ones who found food for the dragons. When they saw a herd of beasts below them, they watched to make sure there were no humans around. If the beasts were alone, or a few beasts had wandered far from the others, they flew back to lead one dragon to the herd to feed."
The young boy puffed up and looked proud. "I would grow up to be a dragon!" said he.
"Indeed you would," said the storyteller as she sipped a bit more of her tea. "But without the birds, you would starve. The beasts of the field and forest are not stupid. They know to run and hide when they see a dragon's shadow on the ground or hear its roar."
"But Mistress," the eldest daughter interjected. "Why didn't the herds scatter when the dragon comes to feed? Surely they knew it was a dragon and was dangerous to them?"
"Oh yes, they did. That is one more thing that their mothers, the birds, helped with. You see, the songs of the long-feathered multi-colored birds was so enchanting that the herd stood mesmerized by its beauty, even while one or more of the herd was carried away to become dinner for a dragon."
The storyteller's small audience sighed at the thought of such a song and the terrible beauty of the dragons as well.
"The other problem with dragons is that they were always hungry. If the birds hadn't moved them around from place to place regularly, they would have starved to death quickly. The birds made sure the dragons only ate when they should, and never more than a single kine at a time. Otherwise they would have eaten every beast available and still wanted more."
The storyteller leaned towards her small audience and the children looked at her, locked into the tale. "Your father and uncles move the herds from field to field, and sometimes from mountain valley to mountain valley. The farmers in those days also wanted to make things a bit harder for the dragons to capture their herds, so they moved their animals regularly. As a bonus, the manure from the animals helped by fertilizing the soil for the next year's crop."
"But the bird's songs were powerful. They kept calling the dragons to pluck kine from the herds, and finally, the dragon's never-ending hunger pushed the famers to their limits. The farmers decided this could not continue. The dragon numbers had increased, often taking several beasts in a single night. No farmer could survive long under those conditions. "
Their mother stepped forward with a refill of tea and a plate of cookies. After a short time, the children settled at the feet of the storyteller again, and she continued. "The farmers held a meeting in a nearby town. They chose one of their number to address King Denbold, the first and last of that name. The King lived in a beautiful but drafty castle near a silvered river. His herds were rarely bothered by dragons because guards with crossbows were always on watch against the beautiful birds and their dragons."
"Kenneth - who insisted on being called 'Ken' - was chosen to present their petition to the King. The farmers wanted more guards for their herds, and help to build barns for the animals to shelter in whenever dragons appeared. It seemed like a reasonable request to the farmers - a bit of building here and there and the herds would be safe once again. A small parade escorted Ken as he left the mountain valley. Girls ran ahead of him, singing and dancing, while the streams of their multi-colored ribbons waved in the breeze. All in the town hoped for a successful petition to the King."
"Winter grew closer and several more kine had been lost to dragons before Ken returned with far less fanfare than his leaving. In fact, he almost sneaked into town, although eventually he straightened his back and walked to the town hall to speak with the Mayor with his head held high.
"Later that afternoon, the Mayor ordered the bell sounded to gather the people in the village square. He came onto the second floor balcony and looked over the crowd, patiently waiting until the rustles and conversations had ended.
"We have heard from King Denbold," he stated. "Although he will help us, it is not as we wanted." Excited and worried whispers ran through the crowd. The Mayor held up his hands, asking for silence, then continued. "The King has decreed that all of the birds shall be killed on sight. He also decreed that all dragons must be attacked as well, by arrows or by spears and swords. It is his thinking that slaying the birds will ensure there will be no more eggs laid or dragons born, and if feeding from the herds proves too costly to the dragons, they will seek their meals elsewhere."
"But the birds are so beautiful," a young woman cried. "Their feathers are prized and their songs are sweet."
"I agree with you. Nevertheless, the King has decreed they must die so die they shall. Hunting parties will go from the villages beginning tomorrow morning in search of the birds. All found will be killed immediately." The Mayor heard the rumblings of discontent in the crowd, but he continued.
"The King has further suggested that all of our kine should be gathered together in a central location to help us guard them with greater ease. I have decided we will fence the northeastern fallow fields. Mark each of your animals so that they are not confused with those of your friends and neighbors. Grouping the animals should make it easier to guard them from the dragons."
The crowd's muttering grew louder. The Mayor smacked his hands on the balcony rail. "You requested the aid of the King, and he has done what you asked. So be it!" he called out, and then retreated into his office, closing the wooden door behind him.
"And, so it was," the storyteller continued. "The people gathered the herds together and various hunting parties were sent out to find and kill the beautiful birds. After some dragons were attacked immediately when they tried to carry off a ram or two, most of the dragons left for other valleys and herds.
"Several dragons did stay in the area. But even though dragons had a thick hide that was almost impervious to spear points and arrows, they didn't like having to fight for meals. By the end of the winter only a single dragon remained. It was desperate and it was starving. Its ribs stood out starkly against its hide, its wings drooped and those townspeople who loved the sight of dragons in the air above their valley, wondered if the poor beast even had the strength to carry off a fully-grown kine any more.
"On a cold and dark morning, a young boy, going out to check on his few cows, saw the dragon lying atop the snow in the distance. He immediately turned and ran to the head of the Guard. "The dragon," he panted. "The dragon lies in the far pasture, unmoving. I fear it is dead."
"A small group gathered - several soldiers and three of the town Elders. They forged their way to the dragon through the deep drifts, finally reaching it by mid-afternoon. They were startled to hear its voice in their heads.
"I hunger," it said. "I hunger for food, but also for my family - my wife, my daughters, my sisters and brothers. We asked for little - yet you refused to share. Now I die, and some of the magic in this world will die along with me. I will once again see those I love, and fly in skies of unrivaled beauty, but you will only have memories and tales by the fire." The beast closed his eyes and soon was dead and the townsfolk who had gathered around it, for indeed, many had come out from the town to bear witness, wept to see such beauty end.
The storyteller finished her tea. "There, now you know why you don't see dragons anymore," she said to the four children. "But you also don't see the beautiful birds, and you don't have the opportunity to watch the dragons fly high, playing in the upper winds. The herds might be safe, but I think the cost may have been too high. What do you think?"
The four children sat quietly, a tear snaking down the cheek of the oldest girl. "That was a very sad story, Storyteller."
"Not all stories have happy endings, children. Life is like that. But learn from the dragons. Let not your hungers rule your lives, for you too might die unsatisfied and almost forgotten. Now, let's help your mother serve the evening meal, shall we?
That night the children all dreamed of hungry dragons playing in the skies with beautiful long-feathered birds. Who knows? Perhaps dragons do still live in a different world.