The Little Slingshot

There once was a boy with an old brittle slingshot. The wood was splintered and the rubber was cracked, but it always shot straight and true. It was a gift from his father, the King, from the line of kings to come before. Some said it was enchanted, others just referred to it as an old hunk of rock-slinging wood.

“Take this slingshot,” the King told his son, “It was my own then my father’s, and is a gift for a young prince. That gift was something the little Prince Jared practiced every day since.

The Kingdom was not one of riches and luxury, but the people were happy and loved their King. But one day, they were met with a fierce dragon that tore through their land. Homes were burned, mills and shops came crashing down, lives were taken, and little treasures the people had were stolen. The dragon came back over and over again over the next weeks, feeding on livestock or people whenever he grew hungry.

Knights tried to fight the dragon, but either ran away in fear or were killed trying. Some were eaten, and some were burned to a crisp. Other knights tried to find the beast’s lair only to wind up lost, or wind up dead along the way from the dragon itself or other beasts of the land.

Jared’s father lamented, not only for the loss of his crown but for the pain and fear of his people. The crown itself had been a royal heirloom, passed down through the generations as long as there had been a royal family. As for his people, their pain broke his heart, for he was a benevolent king who cared deeply for his Kingdom’s wellbeing.

“I can do it, father,” Jared pleaded. “I can kill that dragon.”

“Don’t be silly, my boy,” the King said hopelessly. “You’re just a boy, and all I’ve got left! Getting to the dragon has been challenging enough for those who have tried.”

“But I know just where he is! The castle is so high up, I’ve watched him return to his cave time and time again.”

“Nonsense, my child. It is no job of yours, nor any other so young. Now off to bed with you,” the King responded gently, but not without a hint of authority.

Jared sighed and made his way to his room, but he did not go right to sleep. Instead, he watched out his window and eyed the glow of the dragon’s flame in the distance.

The following day, the dragon returned to the dwindling kingdom. It had become like a game of burning ants out of an anthill. Even the castle, as strong as it was, had much of its structure destroyed. There were no longer barns left for the livestock, housing was sparse, and most of the crops had been burned to ash. Not much remained, and the kingdom was on its last legs.

Jared had made up his mind that day, and once the dragon returned to its lair, he formulated a plan of his own. He watched the dragon creep back into its cave. The scattered remaining fires around the kingdom were put out, and any citizens left warily went back into the homes that still stood. He knew the dragon never attacked the kingdom two days in a row, and the following day would be his chance.

The following morning he maintained routine. Jared ate his breakfast and showed up for his morning lessons. But shortly after, once his father was busy dealing with the duties of a king, Jared slipped away. He left the castle quietly, slingshot in hand.

He walked for a while, following the layout of the land from the map in his head. A large boulder here, that cluster of trees there, the landmarks were all he needed to keep himself on track. It was a long trek to make on one's own, but he knew it wouldn’t be much longer. He would also need to make it worth his while, or his father would never stand for it. A small prince out on his own? The danger! The idiocy! Even without mentioning that Jared was his father’s only offspring.

Lush lands became scorched the further he walked, and he couldn’t help but lament that it was what his kingdom would become. There was less and less life in his path, replaced with bones that were picked clean, or perhaps scattered pieces of his kingdom’s armor here and there. It gave him chills, but he continued nonetheless. Bravely, but not without fear.

After hours of travel, he found the cave and heard deep snores from within. The boy walked alone into the dragon’s lair, slingshot in hand. He was confident but remained cautious as he walked on. But not far into that cave the snoring had stopped, and Jared was met with the dragon’s red eyes. It was curled atop a great pile of hoarded gold and treasures. While it startled him he continued into the widened cavern, but he maintained what he determined to be a safe distance.

“They couldn’t defeat me with their knights, so they sent a child?” the dragon said, then boomed in laughter.

“You took my father’s crown. I’m here to take it back,” the boy said without hesitation.

Once more, the dragon laughed. “You think you stand a chance? I have killed men ten times your size. I have taken down the mightiest of horses to fill my stomach. I have turned whole kingdoms into little more than ruins and ash. And you believe a scrawny child like yourself can so much as scratch one of my scales?”

“I think you could do with some humility,” Jared said and aimed his slingshot at the dragon with a stone pulled back. “Your pride will be the death of you.”

Offended and done wasting his time, the dragon lifted its head and drew in a breath. It was in that precise moment that Jared loosed the stone in his slingshot; the stone flew straight and true, right into the maw of the dragon, and lodged itself into his throat. It completely cut off the once-rising tendrils of smoke as the dragon’s breath caught. No amount of the creature’s struggling or attempts at hacking it up was enough and, after some violent thrashing, he fell.

Jared took one cautious step, then another, and once confident that the dragon was dead he walked close enough to inspect the treasure heap. He located his father’s crown, picked it up, and left the dragon’s lair.

“How did you get this?” the King asked his son.

“I took it back. The dragon won’t be bothering us anymore,” little Jared said, beaming up at his father.

The kingdom rejoiced in the fall of the dragon and was able to rebuild with the riches of the dragon’s hoard. The little prince himself was hailed as a hero and grew to be a brave and benevolent king himself.