The Tale of Fardyr and Acacius

It was dawn when he found him. The small hairless creature sat alone in a clearing as Fardyr scoured the jungle for prey from above. It was too small to make a meal for the mighty dragon, but somehow the creature piqued his interest. He believed it to be a human, likely a juvenile due to its small size. Fardyr had never seen one before but had heard many tales of their greed and hostility. This child, however, seemed small and harmless. Scared even. Nonetheless, the dragon approached with caution.

As he drew nearer, the child crawled into the trees, always keeping one eye on the larger beast. Fardyr landed in the clearing, shaking the ground with his weight. His eyes shifted to the human, who had turned to tears. Unsure what to do, the dragon moved towards the smaller creature, perhaps to console him, but each pounding footstep only worsened the fear behind the child’s tears. Certain that the small creature was too fearful to be consoled by such a large and unfamiliar creature, Fardyr retreated, laying himself down in the clearing a good distance. He eyed the child as he lay but made sure not to impose upon him. He wanted to ensure that it knew that he would not harm him.

Eventually, the crying ceased. The child stared the dragon in the eyes for a moment, examining him, and after deciding it was safe, fell onto his hands and began to crawl toward the beast. Fardyr raised his head slightly as the child approached. The human paused but pushed bravely forwards until he was mere feet from the tip of the dragon’s snout. He hesitated briefly before lifting and placing one shaky hand on Fardyr’s nose. A puff of smoke escaped the dragon’s nostrils, startling the child. Worried he had frightened the child, the dragon inched backwards to give him some space, but the child approached him again. This time he spoke.

“Fly!” said the child, waving his arms up and down.

Fardyr could not understand the human tongue but understood his arms flailing to represent the flapping of wings. He propped himself up on his hind legs and flapped his great wings. A carpet of fallen leaves lifted from the jungle floor, circling the child. The child giggled, reaching out to catch the leaves as they floated in the air in front of him. At one point, the child lost balance and fell forward onto his face. Anxiously, Fardyr approached the fallen infant, but the child only continued to laugh. He propped himself back up on all fours and pointed upwards.

“Up!” he exclaimed.

The mighty dragon spread his wings once more and threw himself into the sky. The child struggled to lift his head from his crawling position as the dragon flew circles around him, twisting, turning and entertaining. The child pulled himself into a sitting position and began to clap, ever laughing. The dragon descended from the sky towards the child, cloaking him in shadow. The child appeared fearful again, but again he laughed when the dragon landed, shaking the ground.

“Me!” exclaimed the child. The dragon did not understand. “Me!” he exclaimed again, this time motioning towards himself. He began to flap his arms like wings again.

Fardyr seemed to understand that the child wished to be carried as he flew. Hesitant though he was, he trusted he would be able to carry the child safely into the skies. He reached out a front leg to the child, only beginning to grip the smaller creature when it approached. He made sure the child was secure, but not so tight that he would be too uncomfortable. Again, the dragon pulled himself onto his hind legs and threw himself towards the sun. The child squealed, laughing with joy. Fardyr too would have laughed if he could. The dragon turned into a dive, plummeting towards the ground, pulling himself upwards again at the last second. He twisted and turned, flipped, and dove, all the while the child laughing. They stayed in the air for a while, wasting away the afternoon together. In the lonely life of a dragon, it seemed Fardyr had found a friend, and he hoped that he too had brightened the day of this lost creature.

It was dusk when they found him. A troupe of human soldiers, braving the vast jungle. They were hoping to retrieve a child that had gone missing earlier, while also on the search for a dragon’s gold. And a dragon they found. From afar, they spotted Fardyr, still flying, carrying the child. They did not, however, see the child.

“A dragon!” they exclaimed. An excited mutter rose among the men.

“If there is a dragon, there must be gold nearby too!” proclaimed one of the men named Aeschylus. The others were enthused by this idea. “We must dispose of the dragon first!” declared another. This was also met with enthusiasm. They began to march towards the dragon, singing as they went.

“Off to kill the dragon, off to steal his gold! Off to kill the dragon, rich until we’re old! Off to kill the dragon…”

Now, Fardyr had also spotted the humans. Assuming they must be searching for their lost child, Fardyr began a descent toward them. Sad though he was to be losing his small, hairless friend, he knew it was best for the child to be returned to his people. The child too seemed excited by the sight of his kind. Slowly, the two unlikely friends approached the distant soldiers.

As they drew nearer, the dragon noticed that they carried sticks, perhaps to help them keep balance as they walked. If these larger humans were anything like the child, they would need help. Some people carried shorter sticks with strings attached to them. Fardyr was confused at first until a shorter stick was launched from the string, flying past the dragon at frightening speeds. The humans were as hostile as he had heard.

Another stick flew towards him, this time piercing the scales on his neck. He roared, shooting flame into the darkening sky. He was not sure whether he should flee with their child or fight back and risk killing the child’s family. Instead, he did neither. He pushed forwards, determined to deliver the child back to his family. He would dodge all the flying sticks and return the boy to where he belonged.

One of the humans lifted their larger stick and threw it towards the dragon. The pointed end was larger than the last one, and it pierced deeper when it hit his shoulder. He cried out again, swooping away from the troupe. But his decision to flee was too late. By this point, every man had armed himself, and a volley of arrows and spears was aimed toward the dragon, tearing at his wings and piercing his skin. He attempted to fly higher, but the holes formed in his wings made it impossible. Losing control, Fardyr began to fall toward the trees, and he knew his best hope was to slow his landing. He turned his gaze to the trees below, spreading his wings to slow his descent. Another volley of arrows and spears was launched toward him, this time taking out his eyes. The dragon roared, blindly breathing a cloud of flame toward where he believed the humans to be. It was their lives or his.

But alas, he could not see his targets, and his flames of rage did nothing but fill the air with smoke for a mere moment as he continued to plummet toward the ground. The child wrapped in his claws had begun to scream, though it could barely be heard over the mighty beast’s roars. Another spear tore his wings, and other arrows pierced his face, his neck, and his belly. Hopeless, the dragon flipped onto his back and allowed himself to plummet to his death. The least he could do was attempt to save the child’s life.

After the dragon had fallen, the humans cheered and walked towards the opening in the trees that the mighty beast had caused with his fall. The men collected their spears from the dragon’s wounds, wiping off the blood with the cloth of their clothes. But it was Aeschylus who noticed the child in the dragon’s claw. A human. He climbed up the fallen beast’s body and unfurled the dragon’s claws. There he found the body of the child who had once been his son, Acacius. He fell to his knees on the fallen dragon’s belly and cried out in sorrow.

“What is it?” asked the men.

“It is my son!” cried Aeschylus. “He lies dead in the hand of this fallen beast!”

“Let us seek out the dragon’s gold as a payment for his life!” exclaimed the men.

“No,” replied Aeschylus. “It was not the dragon that killed him.”

“What do you mean?” asked the men. “The child was dead in the dragon’s claw!”

“There was not a scratch on the boy,” said Aeschylus. “The dragon held him with care, as a mother would. No, it was the fall that killed him. The dragon did not flee or fight because it wished only to return the child to us. It was my desire for gold and my bloodlust that killed my son.”

He was met with silence. He took his son's corpse in his hands and descended from the dragon’s corpse.

“Let this be a lesson to all,” he said, “A man’s greed leads not to satisfaction, but instead wounds a man where he cannot be healed.”