How to Slay A Dragon - A Story (Part 1 of 3)

in writing •  last year

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Timmy entered his bedroom after a long day of play. It was summer and he intended to acquire as much time outside as possible. Unfortunately the big, bad darkness encroached every day on his fun time.

He sat on his bed and felt something hard and uncomfortable under his bed spread and figured it was his notebook he had laid there earlier. Timmy lifted the spread and pulled the object to view. It was a book he had not seen before. A storybook entitled 'Dragon Slayer' with colorful pictures he discovered as he quickly thumbed through.

The more he scanned the more he became excited to read it. He loved dragon stories—scary ones at that. And this looked scary!

The book would have to wait as it was time for dinner and he had a few chores after that. It looked like he was going to have to resort to reading under the covers after bedtime. What better way to read a scary story!

After dinner Timmy had completed his chores and taken his bath and was ready for bed. Normally this would be a routine non-eventful ritual but tonight he was going to begin his 'Dragon Slayer' book!

He lie in bed and waited for his mother to come tuck him in. She entered in her usual fashion checking to make sure everything was okay and secure—she worried a little too much he thought. His mother approached the bed and made sure he was snug and comfy. "Looking forward to another exciting play day tomorrow?" she asked.

"Uh huh," Timmy replied as he nestled into his pillow. His mother kissed him on the forehead then turned to leave the room and flipped the light switch then gently closed the door.

Timmy waited a few minutes to make sure she was not going to return. As the coast was clear he grabbed his flashlight from the night stand and retrieved the book from under his pillow. He buried himself under the cover and opened to the first page of 'Dragon Slayer'.

He began to read but his attention was pulled toward the drawings. They were so detailed and inviting. The first page had a large castle surrounded by a moat with a huge drawbridge and he wondered what it would be like to watch it raise up then lowered down.

The book went into detail about the King and his beautiful daughter, the Princess, and how happy they all were. Picture after picture of stunning scenery of landscape and forests. The book then described details of the town nearby and talked about the trade that happened there and how nice the people were. Timmy was starting to lose interest in the book about slaying dragons when there were no dragons! "Where are the dragons?" he said aloud before catching himself. He didn't want to draw attention by making noise and have uninvited company—like dad.

Timmy persevered and dutifully read every page paying attention to the story with the hope that some dragons would appear eventually—he hoped.

The second chapter began with dark, cloudy, menacing skies with lightning and thunder, but no rain with winds that began to increase in intensity.

"Oh father, we must retire to the castle and hide for the terror, it comes!" the Princess said to her father as she pointed to the sky.

"Yes, come quick, daughter, let us retire to the castle," he said as he grabbed her hand and ran across the bridge.

Before they could reach the entrance to the castle a blaze of fire shot across their path, blocking their way. It was the dragon! "The dragon!" whispered Timmy with excitement from his makeshift fort.

The King and Princess were blocked from entering to safety. The dragon had set the entire entrance ablaze! They turned to run across the bridge to take shelter in the forest but the dragon spit his fierce and fiery breath to block their path yet again. They were trapped! No where to turn for escape, all was bleak as either side of the bridge burned. The dragon was closing in for its final run. It arced high in the sky and headed straight for the helpless father and daughter. Faster it approached, wings spread wide and menacing. It was nearly upon them when a sword, from out of nowhere, appeared spinning end over end heading straight for the path of the dragon. Just as the dragon swooped-in the sword, with pinpoint accuracy, pierced the thick-skinned neck of the dragon. It cried a horrific high-pitched squeal and veered at the last possible moment. "Calamantu!" a cry came from the distance.

Suddenly a man appeared upon a white horse and dressed in thick leather from head to toe! "Calamantu!" he cried again. "Ha! Take that you infernal beast!" His gallop remained strong as he approached the fire before the bridge and his pace remained as he burst into the flames and out the other side! He quickly gabbed both King and Princess and carried them through to safety near the forest.

"Whoa, now that's what I've been waiting for—action!" Timmy whispered to himself now engrossed in the fantastical story.

The white horse trotted to safety and the King and his daughter dismounted. "You have come to our rescue once more Calamantu. We thank you," said the King with humility.

"No thanks be needed my King. It is I who is but grateful as you are now safe from Hell's demon," he said with honor and respect. "If you please, I shall take my leave."

"You are our greatest warrior, Calamantu, you may do as you wish," the King decreed.

Timmy continued reading with anticipation of the next adventure. The story led to the grounds of Calamantu. Here is where he trained in only one thing—how to slay dragons.

There were many apparatus scattered throughout. All designed to hone one's skills. Arrows, swords, spears, clubs and several other weapons and things that needed explaining.

He looked at the pictures of all the weapons and training implements and was captured with all the neat things and how the training was accomplished. "Man, that looks like fun," he whispered to himself.

"Fun you say," said a strong voice emanating from the book.

Timmy sat straight up. He heard his book talk! Or did he just imagine it? It was rather late and he was a little tired. He must have become so engrossed in the story his mind played tricks on him. That's what it was. "That was weird," he said as he stared at the book.

"What is your name young man?" said the voice from the book.

It did talk! My book is talking—to me! he said to himself.

"Come now, you must be addressed somehow. If I am to teach you how to slay dragons I will need to address you," the voice insisted.

A little frightened yet still intrigued at this supernatural feat. He decided to take a chance. "My name is Timmy," he replied reluctant.

"Timmy! That is a fine name!" the voice said enthusiastic. A brief moment passed and the voice spoke again. "Well Timmy, are you ready to begin?" the voice asked.

Timmy looked at the book odd. "Begin what?" he queried.

"Why, your training. You do want to slay dragons do you not?"

There was an apprehension to commit to anything as strange as this—even to answer in the affirmative. It was past his bedtime after all and, well, dragons weren't real—or were they? Books can't talk yet this one did! Timmy was in a very strange mind and was a little bewildered. "It's past my bedtime and books can't talk so I think I should go to sleep now," he said somewhat puzzled.

The book lie there with no further response. Timmy figured he imagined the whole thing and went to close the book for the night. As his hand approached, the book began to glow slightly and appeared a bit surreal. Almost as if an animation itself. Then, gradually, a human hand began to rise from the pages. A hand that was drawn in such detail as the pictures within. It was a man's hand. "Come Timmy, only the pure of spirit are allowed," said the voice. "Grasp thy hand and experience the wonder of new and exciting lands," the voice added.

Oh, this was most strange indeed! But this was real enough where he knew this was no delusion or illusion. There was an animated hand protruding from a fairy tale book that talked to him on his bed under the covers in the middle of the night!

His attention was fixated on this oddity and there was a most compelling need and curiosity to grab the hand just to see what would really happen. He gripped the edge of the mattress so as to anchor himself and not go anywhere other than his bed and reached for the animated hand and, with slight apprehension, grasped it. His hand began to turn to animation that slowly crept up his arm. He tried to release from the hand but to no avail.

Within the blink of an eye he was whisked from his bed and pulled into the pages of the book. No matter how he tried he could not stop the pull of the book—the book that pulled him from his world and engulfed him completely!

Thrust into a whirlwind of color —wonderful, warm and soothing color, all around with beautiful and scary pictures alike that passed by and swarmed around him creating a temporary confusion. Before he knew it, he was standing on the grass of the very landscape he saw in the book!

It was unnerving and wondrous at the same time. He raised his hands to look at them and noticed they were but a detailed drawing—an animation. Timmy was a drawing in a book! His very own book!

He felt different too—stronger and ready for anything. It was a miraculous and exciting thing as everything he saw was like in the detailed pages yet more vibrant! And there was Calamantu—the great Dragon Slayer—right there!

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(to be continued)


art source: pic

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A weak man is just by accident. A strong but non-violent man is unjust by accident.

- Mahatma Gandhi