The Last Dragon Manicurist

The Last Dragon Manicurist

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

That fact mattered little since no one alive could remember a time without dragons here in the Estaullian Valley.

At age 15, Cedric was all boy, especially when it came to dragon lore. In his short life, he had met more dragons than most folks twice his age. When Cedric was only eight years old, he befriended an infant dragon that he discovered in a cave above his village of Neudorf. Nature was his teacher. Nature was his sacred scripture, his mentor, and his adversary.

Now eighteen, Cedric began insisting that his friends call him, ‘Said’. His intense interest in the spiritual earned him the additional appellation of, ‘Rev. Dr.‘ Now, he did not even blink when they yelled for ‘Rev. Dr. Said’. He had made his chivalry vow when he turned sixteen. Thus in the eyes of the whole village, Cedric was a man.

At age fourteen, Cedric became apprenticed to the last, living dragon manicurist. In practical terms, this meant that Cedric got to spend one week a month with his best friend, the dragon he grew up with, known to the village as, ‘Mea’olich’ (My Little One). Looking back over his short time on the planet, Said counted his years as an apprentice among the best years of his life.

The young apprentice applied himself diligently to learn both the art and science of his craft. His diligent focus paid off. Before his thirtieth year around the Sun, ‘Ced’ had gained the reputation as the ‘best in the field’, which, by the way, was very small. Dragon manicurist is a dying profession. And that is because dragons are a dying breed.

Most folks never stop to consider the subtleties of the manicurist's vocation. Cut a few tough nails and make small talk. In addition to knowing all of the 72 Dragon nail diseases and their treatments, dragon manicurists had to master the art and science of dragon counseling and therapy. Cedrick was a master counselor. His name was well known far beyond this verdant valley. He had heard every fear, fantasy, and foul feeling a dragon was capable of. Ced always confided to his friends, “I know how to love every fowl fart a dragon can produce.” … And this always got the laughter he sought.

Today, Cedrick had three old dragons on his schedule. He always looked forward to these days with ‘the old ones’. He loved to hear their stories. He knew them all by heart. His first appointment was with Abu Grani, the oldest living dragon, the Grand Pubba of the age. He had been waiting all month for this encounter. He planned to ask Abu to tell the story of The Pearl of Great Price.

In the lexicon of dragon lore, this story was a classic. Every school child grew up with some version of the story. By the time he was ten years old, Cedric knew every variant of the story existing. Sometimes late at night when all the village’s best tellers were either too drunk or passed out. Then, Cedrick would nurse his most resounding, deepest voice to entertain and beguile folks, hungry for a good tale.

This is the version Cedrick told that night in May when the new moon began the week. Once upon a time so long ago that memory failed to produce a consensual version, a Dragon was born in the shelter of the highest mountain, Mt. Taybron. As the egg cracked opened, a dragon of uniquely brilliant colors in a pattern never seen before stepped gingerly, haltingly, from the shattered eggshell. The colors were luminescent, the patterns, exquisite.

Word went out from Mount Taybron, come see this young one, who bears the sign of Chrosti-muln. A Fortnight later, all of dragondom was gathered on the holy mountain. No one said it out loud, but all shared the knowledge: the days of the dragon were numbered. They were gathered, not only to celebrate a new birth, but also, to celebrate dying.

[Let the reader be aware! There is no turning back from this sentence on.]

From this moment on, the story begins to bloom.

The High Council was called. A Hush filled the mountain. For seven days and a night, silence reigned. The Council Sought a name for three days before there was an answer. The new dragon was to be called, ‘Tobias’.

On the eighth day, his training began in earnest. An academic council was called to determine the highest elements of his royal path of lessons. Tobias was not to be coddled. His Kingly station was no protection from the hard lessons of a dragon’s life. Being the royal shepherd of the last generation of dragons on the middle earth was more glory than grind. Nevertheless, there was grind.

Tobias was an eager student. He was curious about everything. From his first day out of the nest, Tobias was all about flying. He had bruises on his bruises from his many crashes. But, he was determined. On his third day of instruction, he lost track of time and spent seventy-two hours without food or water as he attempted to master gentle landings. Finally, he got it. It happened this way:

He was approaching his landing zone too fast again when his mind went quiet. The sound of the wind rushing past his ears filled him with zesty life. He shouted, “YES!”, as he came to rest gently on his back talons. His ‘Yes’ was the call and the sky thundered in response as lightning flashed from cloud to cloud and cloud to ground. He danced like a ballerina and them, with a mighty cry, he filled his mighty wings with pillows of rising winds and he left the ground.

He arched his spine and circled over the village below. With a mighty ‘whoosh’ his tail guided him to a new course. Soaring upward, he surveyed the valley below. The sun was shining full and bright and the shadows from the mountain peaks outlined the village below, as if by design. And, of course, it was by design. Flying was fun!

Tobias finished his flying lessons three weeks early. Now he was fascinated by geology. He had fallen in love with rocks - every kind and size of rock from a paltry pebble to a sizable stone. His collection already had green ones of every hue, and purple ones, not to mention yellow and orange ones. The prize of his collection was the rainbow infuser crystal that was given to him by the council at birth. It was an amazing specimen. No matter what direction one looked from, the stone emanated luminescent rainbows.

When Tobias turned fifteen, the Council of Elders met again to choose his vision quest parameters. He was to spend four days and nights in the ‘land beyond knowing’. He was to go alone with no bread or water. He was to carry only his sacred florne. Beginning at midnight, he was to offer his soul song on the florne three times. Then he was to STOP! No thought, no movement, no feeling; only aliveness opening more and more. In this state, (he was told), he would be blessed with his life’s mission and purpose.

It could come in any form. The trick would be to be able to recognize the thought, the music, the poetry, the knowing, the loving, the blessing, the grace-giving light of life, and the peace-surrounding truth of love. In Tobias’ case, it came as a symphonic cloud of knowing, a melody of mission.

This was now his song! It was his Light in the darkness; his comfort in the storms that raged around and through him. The words were seared into his consciousness.

Oh Sun, your return brings a joyful day.

I pray to serve Thee well.

the dawn brings life

A breeze of hope

Fills hungry lungs

Uniting Love

With every sacred purpose.

Our joy’s made complete

In loving, holy service

To The One.

Oh fill me now

With a gentle growing purpose.

My life fulfilled in bowing

To The One.

Oh Holy God

Our Mother true to focus

All love’s return

In sacred flowing circles.

Then sings my soul,

My Savior, Christ to Thee;

How gloriously great Thou art.

I bow before Thee.

Be Thou, my rock, my shield, my Buckler.

For the past three years, Tobias would offer this song daily, to greet the morning sky.

Today was different … just how? He could not say. It was some vibration deep in his soul, manifesting as a ‘gut rumble’ The words of the song were the same. The tenor of his voice was the same, Yet, he could not escape his intensifying awareness that today would be different with a capital D. Tobias loved the intensity of this moment, like being frozen in place in the middle of a pond of thin ice. This was his life on this November morning. “Life is good, and we are blessed!”, he whispered aloud.