"I Kind of Love Being a Dragon"

There are certain things, as a dragon, that can be a bit of a nuisance.

Most of you humans assume it must all be glorious: gliding through clouds, breathing literal balls of fire, fearing absolutely nothing. But I challenge you, you little two-legged smooth skinned sack of mush, to imagine a life where you've sprouted wings the size of trees, where your skin has crisped into an armor of itchy, jagged scales, and where with every sneeze you wonder if whatever's in front of you will be incinerated in a blazing ball of fire and mucous. You see, it's not as glorious as you might think.

One of the worst of all dragon nuisances is the sheer amount of food that must be consumed to fuel our two ton frames. For some dragons, this is not a problem at all. In fact, if you asked my friend Jeremy he would say eating is his number one favorite thing about being a dragon. Jeremy will eat anything. Anywhere. Anytime. And he will absolutely love doing it. Just yesterday I found him munching on an eagle's nest. Apparently the birds had flown off, but there were enough eagle feathers left behind to give the twigs what he called "an avian tang."

As for myself, the fact that roughly 80% of my life is devoted to finding my next snack is a bit of a bore. I'd rather be hundreds of feet off the ground, exploring the air, twisting and turning amongst the birds, leaving wisps of cloud in my wake as I speed across every corner of this land we call home. You know. Dragon stuff. Stuff that actually matters. The fact that I cannot do such things leads me to the worst dragon nuisance of all: Secrecy.

Ever since the end of the Second Great War, when dragons were driven from the Valley by the steel and arrow of man, my kind has lived in secrecy. It was determined that dragons function best in the midst of other dragons, and interaction with man was gradually completely eliminated. Over time, dragons slipped from a threat of the present to a legend of the past, and for some they were a complete fiction all together.

To maintain this protective shroud of secrecy, us dragons were under strict instruction to limit interaction with your kind to an absolute minimum. Most dragons didn't mind this. In fact, as a concept I didn't mind it either because, quite frankly, I hate humans. You're weak, soft, and make annoying noises. It was the logistics of actually executing this concept that I took offense to. Flight patterns were limited according to cloud coverage and time of day, boundaries were placed and enforced, and all forms of aerial acrobatics were strictly prohibited on account of their tendency to attract attention.

Of course, interactions with humans could not be completely eliminated. Every dragon had at least one or two stories to tell of the humans they encountered along the outer perimeters. As for myself, I might have had more than just one or two. My adventures often brought me to areas that some might consider "out of bounds" and man meetings were a semi-frequent occurrence. But these incidents were easily controlled by following two chief rules: (1) eat the human and (2) cover your tracks.

This particular story begins with one such incident. What was intended to be a regular ole "fly n' munch" quickly turned into the life altering event that led me to where I am today. It all started with a human child.

Now, I've eaten plenty of human children in my life (not because I particularly prefer the children, but just because I have eaten plenty of humans and, being that the age of the human subjects I encounter aligns with the normal distribution of age throughout the entire human population, several of those humans happened to be children), but this one was particularly memorable. Let me tell you why.

First of all, the child was a boy. It's not that he was a boy that made it memorable, but the fact that I noted his gender at all. Normally I don't take the time to determine if it's a boy or a girl. I'm usually just hungry, and quite honestly, they all taste about the same. But in this case I hesitated. There was something strange about this child.

He was quite young. Old enough to walk certainly, and old enough to talk, but definitely not old enough to be on the bank of Middle River completely alone. He wasn't dressed in the normal human clothes either, at least not the drab brown rags and sheepskins I was accustomed to seeing. Instead he wore a pair of well-tailored trousers and a forest green vest, and his stupid little feet were clad in burgundy leather boots.

He was sitting crosslegged on the riverbank, his backside resting on a bed of leaves he'd piled together to keep his pants dry. On his lap was a book of some kind. He was crouched over it intently, scribbling something across the pages in quiet concentration. When he finally looked up and saw me he froze completely. His eyes locked with mine.

He looked scared and alone. So I solved those problems for him and ate him. Easy day.

What made this incident particularly memorable, however, more so than the gender, and more so than the taste and texture, was how I felt afterwords. I felt bad. I felt bad because after my final swallow I saw what he'd been scribbling in that book of his. Upon closer look I could see it was a sketchbook and scribbled there in blue ink was the crude image of what was undeniably a dragon. The wings and neck were ridiculously out of proportion and the boy had no chance whatsoever of achieving anything notable in the world of art, but still...I could see in that drawing the boy's passion for us dragons.

Knowing what I know now, I would never have eaten that poor little man child. If I could, I would have spat him out whole in one piece, right back next to his poorly drawn dragon cartoon. Unfortunately, I had chewed him quite thoroughly, and with the rate of dragon digestion being as rapid as it is, he was already melted into a thick stomach soup by the time I flew back to the Hive. Little Blue was definitely dead.

I called him Little Blue because of the blue pigment he'd used to make his drawing. Most would advise against naming your food but I always do, since it helps me recall how much I've consumed in a particular day. On Monday, for example, there was Mr. Puddles (the juicy pig splashing about in the rain), Frog Stain (the cow with a frog shaped spot in the middle of his back), and Cave Goat (the goat that hid inside a cave; I'll admit with that one that not all my names are super creative). On a side note, Cave Goat failed to realize he'd cornered himself in what was basically a perfect nature-made oven. The crisp was heavenly.

Anyway, Little Blue was dead. And while I did feel bad, by the time I was up above the clouds the thought was as digested as the little boy in my belly. I spent the rest of the day rewarding myself for a successful morning hunt. The conditions were ideal for executing my choreographed spirals and dives. A blanket of clouds lay beneath me, providing enough coverage to fly as I pleased. Up here there was a stillness that cleared my mind. A gentle eastward wind carried me toward the mountains, and my scales shimmered in the afternoon sun, as if being charged with a zest for life, for the life of a dragon. This was what being a dragon was all about. I rolled onto my back and ejected a pillar of flame high into the empty sky above me; a fiery exclamation point to emphasize the beauty of the moment. Little did I know of the storm brewing below.

It was dusk by the time I swooped through the mountain pass of Twin Peaks, leading to the Hive. It was here that us dragons had thrived for the past century and a half (thrived is too positive a word; simply ''existed" is definitely a more apt description). The pass was far from any human civilization and even those that had ventured so far never successfully navigated the subsequent twists and turns that led deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain range.

As you meander the mountains you reach a point where the mountains give way to the open beaches of the sea. Rather than emerging onto the sandy plains you veer right, beneath a cavernous rocky overpass at the base of the mountain. What begins as a seemingly normal cave eventually expands into the interior of the mountain itself. Hallowed over centuries from the combined toils of nature and dragon, this stony cathedral houses hundreds of dragons. From floor to ceiling it spans thousands of feet, and along the perimeter at every level dragons make their nests, hidden from the sight of man and the outside world. Personally, it makes me claustrophobic.

I stood at the base when I saw Jeremy spiraling down from above. He looked unsettled.

"Wow Jeremy. You look like you dropped your cow in the ocean"

The fact that he didn't laugh was the first bad sign.

"The is bad Charlie," he said. "Very bad"

The fact that he said it was bad was the second bad sign. I'm very observant that way. I had no idea what he was talking about, but the way he cast his gaze downwards and tapped his talons convinced me to take it very seriously.

"What is it? What happened" I tried to get him to look at me.

But Jeremy didn't have to answer. He simply looked to his left. I followed his gaze and saw a glint of gold emerging from the shadows.

King Calvin had led the Hive for the past 20 years. He was a respected leader, and the fact that his golden scales so aptly matched his position of royalty was simply a convenient coincidence. I had always gotten along with him well enough, even though we had had our fair share of disputes over the secrecy of dragons and my occasional insistence on doing dragon things. By the look in his eye now I could tell this was bringing our dispute into new uncharted territory. I gave my head a slight bow, "Good evening your majesty."

"Do you realize what you have done?!" his voice reverberated throughout the chamber, giving my eardrums the pleasure of hearing the echo of his rage three more times.

After a moment of silence I realized this question wasn’t rhetorical. “No, I actually don’t” I said.

“You have jeopardized two centuries of dragon-human relations!” He boomed.

My look of blank confusion must have cued him that I needed some extra help understanding. “Did you not feast on a small human man child this very morning?”

Little Blue rumbled a private affirmative in my stomach. “Uhm yes. I did. But we have all done that multiple times. Respectfully my liege, I do not know why this is a problem.”

He shook his head in raging disappointment. He spoke to the dragon to his right, “Tell him what you saw Stephen.”

I’d always hated Stephen. He was a sniveling shell of a dragon who’d used his father’s friendship with King Calvin to snake his way into a royal position. He directed the Watch, the thunder of dragons that discreetly monitored the activities of the human inhabitants of our land.

Stephen cleared his throat. However bad this news was, he clearly relished the fact that it was I who caused it. “During our morning scout this morning we could tell there was a disturbance amongst the kingdom of man. After further investigation it was clear a panic had taken over the town over a lost boy. Ten parties on horseback were dispatched to scour the nearby forests in search of him. The boy you ate, Charlie, was the son of the King”

I heard a gasp of horror from Jeremy.

Thanks for the dramatics Jeremy

I myself hoped my silent face betrayed none of the rising panic in my chest.

It all made sense now. Of course Little Blue was wearing the rich garb that he was; he was a prince. He’d likely been out hunting with a band of the King’s men, or perhaps even the King himself. After getting separated he’d found a place by the river to rest and gather his thoughts. Perhaps he began his dragon drawing to distract himself from the fear of being lost. When he heard me trampling through the brush he likely at first thought it was the King’s men returning to retrieve him. Instead it was myself. Just me and my appetite ready to mince him to pieces and destroy centuries of human-dragon relations.

So yes this was bad, very bad in fact. So bad that I didn’t even question the fact Jeremy had quietly excused himself to the corner to deposit a pool of nervous vomit. That was perfectly appropriate for the situation at hand. But there was one saving fact that helped me stay calm, and that was this: even though I did eat the King’s son, there was no way the King could know it was myself that did the eating, or any dragon at all for that matter. For all they knew, Little Blue had wandered off a cliff or drowned in the river.

“Tell him the rest Stephen,” Calvin said.

There was more? Jeremy’s corner suddenly looked very inviting.

“The Watch found the site of your feasting,” Stephen grinned slyly. “Not only did they find blood soaked ground, but also a tattered tunic, a child-size leather boot and…” he paused for effect, “uncovered dragon tracks" There were signs of horse tracks too. The humans undoubtedly saw the same signs we did and are gathering themselves for the largest dragon hunt this side of the millennium has ever seen.”

No one said a word, unless one counts the second wretch from Jeremy in Vomit Corner. Finally King Calvin spoke, “Do you know what this means Charlie?” He said it softly, which was far more terrifying than the booming rage from before.

I looked towards the ground, “Yes, my King. What can I do?”

He continued, “It means the end of an era. An era of peace amongst us dragons where humans knew nothing of our existence and mettled little in our affairs."

Privately I thought "Yes I know that’s what it means. That’s why I answered 'yes' to your question ‘Do you know what that means?’ but out loud I simply begged my question a second time, “What can I do?”

“You will do nothing," he said. "You will remain here at the Hive while we further assess the situation. Our only saving grace now is the fact they will never uncover our hiding place. If we are lucky we can keep sightings to a minimum and over the next several decades the panic will dissipate and dragons will fall back to a place of legend”

I nodded in understanding before being left with my thoughts on the mountain floor. Jeremy appeared beside me.

“Well that did not go too well” he said.

"No. No it did not.”

“What are you going to do?”

The Hive had fully awoken to the fact that dragon kind’s very manner of existence was in jeopardy. Wings flapped within the mountain

I slunk quietly across the base of the cavern, making my way toward the back wall. Above me dragons flew back and forth, counseling with friends and family on what to do next. I reached the back wall. With a single pump of my wings I launched myself to the ledge sitting 30ft above me. A youngling dragon was perched there as well, his wings folded up around his chest, whimpering in apparent fright.

I sighed with annoyance. Sometimes it’s a major chore doing the right thing. “Where are your parents” I asked

“Looking for my sister,” he said this while staring at me intently. “Wait a minute,” he said, “You’re the one that caused all this. You’re the one that killed the King’s —“

With a flick of my tail I toppled him off the edge. Of course I only did this after properly assessing his age and wing development. It was clear to me the hatchling could fly; it was his fault that I decided to test my theory. Sure enough he spread his wings well before the ground and with a couple beats he glided upwards, no doubt to tell his parents of the new terrible things Charlie the dragon had done.

I turned toward the cavernous opening that sat on this ledge. This winding tunnel marked the back exit of the Hive. I waddled through and emerged into the pale glow of a moonlit night in the mountains.

These were the perfect kind of evenings to fly. A light breeze blew in from the sea, giving lift to my wings and cooling my scales. I breathed deep, calming myself from the days events. The darkness gave cover against any unwanted onlookers; that’s why I often flew at this time. Today it was mainly to escape from the chaos of the Hive. I wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular today.

The shame began to shift however, dissolving into a frustration with the current system. I thought back on my great dragon ancestors of old, in the time of the first Age of War between dragon and man when dragons were fierce and proud, refusing to shy away form their two legged counterparts.

I was thinking this when a flicker of orange broke up the blanket of darkness below. I dropped a few hundred feet for a better view. It was undoubtedly a fire, but it looked too small to be a dragon fire. Besides, I was not aware of any other dragon besides myself and the Watch that were away from the Hive at this moment. This of course meant that a man had made this fire in one of their mysterious man ways.

I hovered in place, thinking on what to do. I knew of course what King Calvin would do. He’d command me to return immediately to the Hive to report the presence of a human nearby. A member of the Watch would be dispatched to further investigate, most likely leading to the human’s elimination. While the thought of another dead man didn’t bother me, the thought of abiding by King Calvin’s policy of cowardice did. I was tired of hiding. Tired of the secrecy…

I flew toward the light.

The final beat of my wings above the ground nearly extinguished the bonfire in its entirety, but it survived enough to illuminate the small clearing. There was a pack propped up against a boulder and a horse that tugged against his rope in panic and looked half dead with fright. But there was no man in sight.

The horse’s brays suddenly grew less frantic and the strain on his rope relaxed at the sound of a reassuring whisper from the woods

A gloved hand reached out from the darkness, stroking the beast’s muzzle until he calmed completely. The rest of his figure then followed, stepping out into the full light of the fire.

He was tall for a human. Tall and slender. A hood hid half his face, but I could see beneath its shadow the shape of a well kept beard and the glint of light blue eyes. He wore similar clothes to the boy; the maroon boots on his feet almost looked identical. He stared upon by figure with surprisingly little reaction, so much so that I was internally questioning whether or not he truly understood what I was.

“So the legends are true,” he said, “The dragons live.”

I guess he understood.

I bared my teeth and flashed my talons, “How foolish of man to think a beast as great as myself might perish while man survive.”

What happened next nearly made me choke on my fire: He responded.

“Foolish for such a great beast as yourself to live in hiding”

He saw the look of incredulity on my face and laughed, “Yes dragon, I know your tongue. I know much about your kind.”

I shook my head in disbelief. The speak of dragon was long thought to be lost to man. The last dragon speakers were thought to have died in the Second Great War. “How is that possible?”

“I’ve made a study of dragons since childhood," he responded. I’ve had access to every text on the subject and dreamed of a day like this to use it."

It was hard to comprehend what was happening. It had been approximately 30 seconds since I met this human and it was already twice as long as any human encounter I’d ever had. Normally I’d be picking him out of my teeth by now.

“Who are you?” I asked.

He casually made his way to the fire, plopping down on his pack and removing his gloves to warm his hands over the flames. “You know that boy you chomped to bits this morning?”

I nodded in affirmation.

“Well that was my brother.”

My muscles tensed and I prepared myself to either add this man to my digestive juices or launch myself to the sky in retreat.

But he only laughed, “Don’t worry. I’m not here to exact my revenge or anything like that. In truth, I hated the lad. You actually did me a favor”

He left room for a response but in light of my shocked silence he continued, “As first born I of course have rights to the throne. But my father and I have always had our differences, and as soon as Benjamin was born he attracted all of father’s favor. My advisors have told me he’s been looking to find a way to award him the throne over myself.”

Finally I could speak, “Well what are you doing here then?”

“I was already on my way to you before this morning even happened,” he said. "My years of research had led me to this mountain pass, knowing your kind must be somewhere close. The tidings of this morning only expedited my cause. I’m here to win your kind’s favor in the battle against my father. His army is marching this way now in search of you and your Hive. With my help we can overthrow him. If you do this, I guarantee peace with my people.”

I paused. Well this was a curious development.

“I'm listening," I said.

We spent the next several hours discussing the details of his plan. Of how I might convince King Calvin of its merit. We discussed how the politics of future man and dragon relations would be shaped differently for the rest of time. How the very conversation we were having then would be remembered as the discussion that changed the future forever. We talked of these things until the sky tinted orange and the sounds of morning began to play. The plan was for me to return to the Hive that morning to tell the others of what’d transpired. If receptive, King Calvin and myself would return later that day for an additional meeting.

I bid farewell and distanced myself from the clearing to avoid blowing a storm of dust across his campsite. As I crouched down to launch myself into the air I heard a crash. A giant thud. The horse cried out even louder than last night. A human scream followed.

I whipped around. There in the clearing was none other than Jeremy. And there from his dragon jaws protruded one royal boot of burgundy leather.

“Jeremy No!!!” I cried out, but it was too late. The boot disappeared as Jeremy gobbled down his morning breakfast. He let out a satisfied, fiery burp.

“Jeremy what have you done,” I groaned.

He looked unperplexed. “I was hungry,” he said matter of factly, “And besides, this human was awfully close to the Hive. Can you imagine if King Calvin had found him?"

I sighed. I didn’t have the energy to explain to him what he had done, the opportunity that was now lost. But then he said something that reminded me of what I'd felt earlier that day, soaring amongst the clouds and sunshine.

“I kind of love being a dragon,” he said.

I had to smile.

“As do I Jeremy. As do I”

I launched myself into the air. At the peak of my climb I unfurled my wings, suspending myself in the air like a spider in its web.

In the distance I could see the King's army marching across the valley.

Secret no more