LAST OF THE DRAGONS

(Public Domain Story)

Of course you know that dragons were once as common as motor-omnibuses are now, and almost as dangerous. But as every well-brought-up prince was expected to kill a dragon, and rescue a princess, the dragons grew fewer and fewer till it was often quite hard for a princess to find a dragon to be rescued from.

 And at last, there were no more dragons in France and no more dragons in Germany, or Spain, or Italy, or Russia. There were some left in China, and are still, but they are cold and bronzy, and there were never any, of course, in America. But the last real live dragon left was in England, and of course that was a very long time ago, before what you call English History began. This dragon lived in Cornwall in the big caves amidst the rocks, and a very fine dragon it was, quite seventy feet long from the tip of its fearful snout to the end of its terrible tail. It breathed fire and smoke, and rattled when it walked, because its scales were made of iron. Its wings were like half-umbrellas -- or like bat's wings, only several thousand times bigger. Everyone was very frightened of it, and well they might be.

Now the King of Cornwall had one daughter, and when she was sixteen, of course she would have to go and face the dragon: such tales are always told in royal nurseries at twilight, so the Princess knew what she had to expect. The dragon would not eat her, of course -- because the prince would come and rescue her. But the Princess could not help thinking it would be much pleasanter to have nothing to do with the dragon at all -- not even to be rescued from him. `All the princes I know are such very silly little boys,' she told her father. `Why must I be rescued by a prince?'

`It's always done, my dear,' said the King, taking his crown off and putting it on the grass, for they were alone in the garden, and even kings must unbend sometimes.

`Father, darling,' said the Princess presently, when she had made a daisy chain and put it on the King's head, where the crown ought to have been. `Father, darling, couldn't we tie up one of the silly little princes for the dragon to look at -- and then I could go and kill the dragon and rescue the prince? I fence much better than any of the princes we know.'

`What an unladylike idea!' said the King, and put his crown on again, for he saw the Prime Minister coming with a basket of new-laid Bills for him to sign. `Dismiss the thought, my child. I rescued your mother from a dragon, and you don't want to set yourself up above her, I should hope?'

`But this is the last dragon. It is different from all other dragons.'

`How?' asked the King.

`Because he is the last,' said the Princess, and went off to her fencing lessons, with which she took great pains. She took great pains with all her lessons -- for she could not give up the idea of fighting the dragon. She took such pains that she became the strongest and boldest and most skilful and most sensible princess in Europe. She had always been the prettiest and nicest.

And the days and years went on, till at last the day came which was the day before the Princess was to be rescued from the dragon. The Prince who was to do this deed of valour was a pale prince, with large eyes and a head full of mathematics and philosophy, but he had unfortunately neglected his fencing lessons. He was to stay the night at the palace, and there was a banquet.

After supper the Princess sent her pet parrot to the Prince with a note. It said:

Please, Prince, come on to the terrace. I want to talk to you without anybody else hearing. --The Princess.

So, of course, he went -- and he saw her gown of silver a long way off shining among the shadows of the trees like water in starlight. And when he came quite close to her he said: `Princess, at your service,' and bent his cloth-of-gold-covered knee and put his hand on his cloth-of-gold-covered heart.

`Do you think,' said the Princess earnestly, `that you will be able to kill the dragon?'

`I will kill the dragon,' said the Prince firmly, `or perish in the attempt.'

`It's no use your perishing,' said the Princess.

`It's the least I can do,' said the Prince.

`What I'm afraid of is that it'll be the most you can do,' said the Princess.

`It's the only thing I can do,' said he, `unless I kill the dragon.'

`Why you should do anything for me is what I can't see,' said she.

`But I want to,' he said. `You must know that I love you better than anything in the world.'

When he said that he looked so kind that the Princess began to like him a little.

`Look here,' she said, `no one else will go out tomorrow. You know they tie me to a rock and leave me -- and then everybody scurries home and puts up the shutters and keeps them shut till you ride through the town in triumph shouting that you've killed the dragon, and I ride on the horse behind you weeping for joy.'

`I've heard that that is how it is done,' said he.

`Well, do you love me well enough to come very quickly and set me free -- and we'll fight the dragon together?'

'It wouldn't be safe for you.'

`Much safer for both of us for me to be free, with a sword in my hand, than tied up and helpless. Do agree.'

He could refuse her nothing. So he agreed. And next day everything happened as she had said.

When he had cut the cords that tied her to the rock they stood on the lonely mountain-side looking at each other.

`It seems to me,' said the Prince, `that this ceremony could have been arranged without the dragon.'

`Yes,' said the Princess, `but since it has been arranged with the dragon --'

`It seems such a pity to kill the dragon -- the last in the world,' said the Prince.

`Well then, don't let's,' said the Princess; `let's tame it not to eat princesses but to eat out of their hands. They say everything can be tamed by kindness.'

`Taming by kindness means giving them things to eat,' said the Prince. `Have you got anything to eat?'

She hadn't, but the Prince owned that he had a few biscuits. `Breakfast was so very early,' said he, `and I thought you might have felt faint after the fight.'

`How clever,' said the Princess, and they took a biscuit in each hand. And they looked here, and they looked there, but never a dragon could they see.

`But here's its trail,' said the Prince, and pointed to where the rock was scarred and scratched so as to make a track leading to a dark cave. It was like cart-ruts in a Sussex road, mixed with the marks of sea-gull's feet on the sea-sand. `Look, that's where it's dragged its brass tail and planted its steel claws.'

`Don't let's think how hard its tail and claws are,' said the Princess, `or I shall begin to be frightened -- and I know you can't tame anything, even by kindness, if you're frightened of it. Come on. Now or never.'

She caught the Prince's hand in hers and they ran along the path towards the dark mouth of the cave. But they did not run into it. It really was so very dark.

So they stood outside, and the Prince shouted: `What ho! Dragon there! What ho within!' And from the cave they heard an answering voice and great clattering and creaking. It sounded as though a rather large cotton-mill were stretching itself and waking up out of its sleep.

The Prince and the Princess trembled, but they stood firm.

`Dragon -- I say, dragon!' said the Princess, `do come out and talk to us. We've brought you a present.'

`Oh yes -- I know your presents,' growled the dragon in a huge rumbling voice. `One of those precious princesses, I suppose? And I've got to come out and fight for her. Well, I tell you straight, I'm not going to do it. A fair fight I wouldn't say no to -- a fair fight and no favour -- but one of those put-up fights where you've got to lose -- no! So I tell you. If I wanted a princess I'd come and take her, in my own time -- but I don't. What do you suppose I'd do with her, if I'd got her?'

`Eat her, wouldn't you?' said the Princess, in a voice that trembled a little.

`Eat a fiddle-stick end,' said the dragon very rudely. `I wouldn't touch the horrid thing.'

The Princess's voice grew firmer.

`Do you like biscuits?' she said.

`No,' growled the dragon.

`Not the nice little expensive ones with sugar on the top?'

`No,' growled the dragon.

`Then what do you like?' asked the Prince.

`You go away and don't bother me,' growled the dragon, and they could hear it turn over, and the clang and clatter of its turning echoed in the cave like the sound of the steam-hammers in the Arsenal at Woolwich.

The Prince and Princess looked at each other. What were they to do? Of course it was no use going home and telling the King that the dragon didn't want princesses -- because His Majesty was very old-fashioned and would never have believed that a new-fashioned dragon could ever be at all different from an old-fashioned dragon. They could not go into the cave and kill the dragon. Indeed, unless he attacked the Princess it did not seem fair to kill him at all.

`He must like something,' whispered the Princess, and she called out in a voice as sweet as honey and sugar-cane:

`Dragon! Dragon dear!'

`WHAT?' shouted the dragon. `Say that again!' and they could hear the dragon coming towards them through the darkness of the cave. The Princess shivered, and said in a very small voice:

`Dragon -- Dragon dear!'

And then the dragon came out. The Prince drew his sword, and the Princess drew hers -- the beautiful silver-handled one that the Prince had brought in his motor-car. But they did not attack; they moved slowly back as the dragon came out, all the vast scaly length of him, and lay along the rock -- his great wings half spread and his silvery sheen gleaming like diamonds in the sun. At last they could retreat no further -- the dark rock behind them stopped their way -- and with their backs to the rock they stood swords in hand and waited.

The dragon grew nearer and nearer -- and now they could see that he was not breathing fire and smoke as they had expected -- he came crawling slowly towards them wriggling a little as a puppy does when it wants to play and isn't quite sure whether you're not cross with it.

And then they saw that great tears were coursing down its brazen cheek.

`Whatever's the matter?' said the Prince.

`Nobody,' sobbed the dragon, `ever called me "dear" before!'

`Don't cry, dragon dear,' said the Princess. `We'll call you "dear" as often as you like. We want to tame you.'

`I am tame,' said the dragon -- `that's just it. That's what nobody but you has ever found out. I'm so tame that I'd eat out of your hands.'

`Eat what, dragon dear?' said the Princess. `Not biscuits?' The dragon slowly shook his heavy head.

`Not biscuits?' said the Princess tenderly. `What, then, dragon dear?'

`Your kindness quite undragons me,' it said. `No one has ever asked any of us what we like to eat -- always offering us princesses, and then rescuing them -- and never once, "What'll you take to drink the King's health in?" Cruel hard I call it,' and it wept again.

`But what would you like to drink our health in?' said the Prince. `We're going to be married today, aren't we, Princess?'

She said that she supposed so.

`What'll I take to drink your health in?' asked the dragon. `Ah, you're something like a gentleman, you are, sir. I don't mind if I do, sir. I'll be proud to drink you and your good lady's health in a tiny drop of' -- its voice faltered -- `to think of you asking me so friendly like,' it said. `Yes, sir, just a tiny drop of puppuppuppuppupetrol -- tha-that's what does a dragon good, sir --'

`I've lots in the car,' said the Prince, and was off down the mountain in a flash. He was a good judge of character and knew that with this dragon the Princess would be safe.

`If I might make so bold,' said the dragon, `while the gentleman's away -- p'raps just to pass the time you'd be so kind as to call me Dear again, and if you'd shake claws with a poor old dragon that's never been anybody's enemy but his own -- well, the last of the dragons'll be the proudest dragon that's ever been since the first of them.'

It held out an enormous paw, and the great steel hooks that were its claws closed over the Princess's hand as softly as the claws of the Himalayan bear will close over the bit of bun you hand it through the bars at the Zoo.

And so the Prince and Princess went back to the palace in triumph, the dragon following them like a pet dog. And all through the wedding festivities no one drank more earnestly to the happiness of the bride and bridegroom than the Princess's pet dragon -- whom she had at once named Fido.

And when the happy pair were settled in their own kingdom, Fido came to them and begged to be allowed to make himself useful.

`There must be some little thing I can do,' he said, rattling his wings and stretching his claws. `My wings and claws and so on ought to be turned to some account -- to say nothing of my grateful heart.'

So the Prince had a special saddle or howdah made for him -- very long it was -- like the tops of many tramcars fitted together. One hundred and fifty seats were fitted to this, and the dragon, whose greatest pleasure was now to give pleasure to others, delighted in taking parties of children to the seaside. It flew through the air quite easily with its hundred and fifty little passengers -- and would lie on the sand patiently waiting till they were ready to return. The children were very fond of it, and used to call it Dear, a word which never failed to bring tears of affection and gratitude to its eyes. So it lived, useful and respected, till quite the other day -- when someone happened to say, in his hearing, that dragons were out-of-date, now so much new machinery had come in. This so distressed him that he asked the King to change him into something less old-fashioned, and the kindly monarch at once changed him into a mechanical contrivance. The dragon, indeed, became the first aeroplane.

The End. 

 ETERNAL LOVE OF THE BLUE MOON DRAGON

(An Original Dragon Love Story by BoSt- Also, a revised version with AI pics, of the Blue Moon Dragon)

Once upon a time on an enchanted island far, far away there was a mighty Blue Dragon, the last of his kind, who inhabited a majestic mountain cave.

 Long before he was born a meteorite crashed into this Planet and devastated the entire island, causing a massive extinction of many species including the antediluvian Dragon Kingdom.  The Dragon Queen, with her gift of premonition, foresaw this cataclysm.  When her warning fell on deaf ears, she arranged to have both of her precious blue and green eggs stored with the necessary provisions deep in the caverns of a mighty mountain. 

No one could have imagined that the scale of devastation and upheaval would be so catastrophic and far-reaching; hence they all perished leaving the land barren for many centuries to come. Meanwhile of the two eggs carefully stored in the depths of the mighty cave only one had survived to hatch. The blue dragon therefore was born into a lonely existence and grew up fending for himself.  Eventually the land recovered and other life-forms began to thrive in this rich, pristine environment.

The blue dragon, now grown larger still, with his giant wings often soared through the skies in search of food, longing to find evidence of other dragons.

During his searches when earthquakes, landslides or other such catastrophes unearthed the remnants of the ancient Dragon civilization he discovered vast stores of knowledge that revealed the cosmic secrets of the universe and the gateway to the many other worlds that lay beyond the mystical sea surrounding his world. Unfortunately he also came to realize that he was alone, and would be alone forever, as the Age of Dragons had come to an end.   Rage and sorrow took hold of him and the explosive energy he unleashed very nearly destroyed the island once again.

He regained his senses just in time.  Coming to grips with reality, he settled down and searched the surviving stores of knowledge, assimilating this vast information in gradual segments.  Meanwhile he’d already learned purely by accident that close proximity to the sun always helped to regenerate him. Proximity to the moon pacified his senses and, by the same token, he discovered the joys of meditative serenity.

As he grew in maturity, possessing more knowledge now, he ventured through the doorways to other existing worlds. On these many excursions, he discovered other lands over the mystic seas, realms that were populated by strange flora and creatures.  Further and further he went searching for adventure or, perhaps, a likely companion.  He was innately precautious and concealed his presence well.  By this time he’d acquired many mystical powers. Beside that of concealment, he was now able to shape-shift into other living forms, however large or small.  This made him bolder as he integrated into still stranger circumstances, such as those of the two-legged human creatures. 

He mingled among them learning their complex structures of dialogue, barter, social etiquettes and their varied rules of governance.  He found that, with practice, he could maintain his disguise for longer and longer periods, but never longer than a span of one night. His concealment was also more effective at night, for sunshine was too invigorating for him to constrain his powers.

                                                                                          ~

Once at dusk while flying over a well fortified powerful kingdom a strange sound wafted to his ears and, looking down, he spotted well manicured lawns and gardens with carefully structured pools and bridges. He’d never seen so fine a garden and so he swooped silently down and, as soon as his feet touched a branch, he transformed himself into a songbird.

It was a fine summer’s twilight with a light breeze that invited all beings into the outdoors.  A group of people were laughing and chattering, advancing towards the tree he was perched on.  He withdrew to the cover of thicker foliage to observe unheeded the small entourage now setting up a picnic down below.

 The one among them standing to the side was particularly appealing.  For one thing she had flawless white porcelain skin and was finely dressed. Her cascading golden hair was carefully managed with brilliant gems that gleamed like many stars in the full moonlight. She held a bouquet of flowers to her bosom so fragrant that it wooed his senses. The others, like flittering butterflies, rallied around her attempting to make her jovial and content. This somewhat amused the Dragon, and he watched their behaviour and hers without tiring of it for the entire length of their gathering.

 When they prepared to leave, he at once made himself invisible and followed after.  His curiosity led him all the way back to her quarters but, seeing that they all went to bed, he reluctantly took his leave, flying out the open window.  But at least he knew where this interesting creature dwelled, and he promised himself to return the next nightfall.

At first he was content watching her from afar in disguise but, bit by bit, he became smitten with her strange but sweet ways.  By then he understood more of the ways of humans and how he might win her affections.  Fortunately, she valued her time alone and often would send her attendants away on some fool’s errand just to gain some solitary, quiet moments by herself. Often she managed to sneak away at the conclusion of dinner to spend a tranquil period in the library. At other times she contrived to spend a few moments outside among the beds of flowers, leaning her back to a tree in contemplative repose. It was on one such occasion when the Blue Dragon decided at long last to approach her.

Desiring not to frighten her and wishing for a favorable response, he first transformed himself into a human male. He’d seen certain illustrations in poetry books, specific figures that she expressed some interest in, therefore he fashioned himself into a mixture of those features she liked best:  a youth of similar age, rather handsome and dressed in fineries.  He even picked a name for himself:  Maviaku Brug, which translates as, ‘Blue Moon Dragon’.  

He knew enough of the rules of propriety not to manifest and accost her in her private quarters, so he waited for an opportunity when she retreated into the garden seeking some solitude. Their first meeting was somewhat awkward and, regrettably still caused her a fright. But he soon talked his way out of it and won her confidence with his charm and wit.

 In time, during many more clandestine encounters, as they discovered they had the same zest for life and innocent fondness for adventure, they grew much more attached to each other.  Of course all during the exchange they’d maintained the strictest propriety and observed proper decorum, thus nothing untoward or improper transpired between the two. This platonic love however had grown from bud to blossom soon possessing both their heart and soul.  Eventually when Maviaku Brug revealed his true form to her, he was delighted to find it made no difference at all.  Meanwhile he was now free to not only share his innermost qualms but also, on the plus side, the multitude of advantages and joys that come with being a dragon.

Often, on her insistence, she was whisked away into the clouds riding on his back to view the world in a new thrilling way, an elation she could never have experienced without him.  She was so happy then, that all else, all mundane earthly matters simply vanished in a puff.  Hours spent with him simply melted away but when he was absent her heart pained with that unbearable longing for his company.

One fine evening, while resting on a strange high meadow by a spring, he reached forward and gently clasped her hand and looked questioningly deep into her eyes. No words were necessary, she simply nodded her assent and from that moment on they were bonded forever.

With a shy smile he drew a small packet from his robe, wrapped in a blue cloth that shimmered as if with the light of many stars. When she opened it she saw it was a figurine of a songbird.

Looking lovingly into her eyes Maviaku explained its meaning, “It is made from the stones of the Moon, where I stay when I want to be close to you, and it is shaped like the songbird I became when I observed you and your attendants in the courtyard that first evening. Keep it to remind yourself of me, and my eternal love for you.”

“I shall cherish it forever. “She kissed the bird’s beak then reached forward to lovingly hold his hand.

                                                                                                ~

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.  One stormy night their closely guarded secret was discovered by a jealous attendant and, when promptly brought to the attention of His Majesty, his fury knew no bounds.  He had three sons but only one daughter and now his darling daughter had being sullied by this, this dastardly intruder.

Immediately, a trap was devised to capture this brazen interloper.  When the opportunity struck armed guards descended on him.  Maviaku Brug could have transformed himself into his true form and incinerated them all, but he was far too concerned for the Princess’ well being, so he allowed himself be captured and brought in chains before his Majesty.

The King was in a murderous mood, and could not be reasoned with.  Despite severe beating and torture the truth could not be attained, yet a most heinous, ruthless punishment was pronounced upon the presumed culprit.   Badly bruised, bleeding profusely with many ribs and bones broken (for in this form he was as vulnerable as any human was) Maviaku was dragged outside by his chains for the administration of his harsh punishment.  As soon as he was outside of the audience hall he was able to use his skills and simply vanished into thin air.

The poor guards unfortunately were made to suffer for their failure. Meanwhile the Princess was confined to new quarters high up in a tower and this time, placed under close scrutiny. She was watched day and night as the general consensus was that she was under the spell of a malevolent sorcerer.    

For the good part of the year she was a virtual prisoner, never allowed a moment’s peace in all that time, nor was she left alone for a single moment.  Day after day, month after month, the attending Priests and palace doctors had came to and fro, at first keeping her heavily sedated then gradually endowing her with small portions of added liberties.

She was eventually allowed to return to her more luxurious former quarters after she pretended she had been cured from the paranormal malady. Despite all their persuasive methods and medicinal concoctions they forced to ingest, however, deep within her soul and heart she’d maintained the seeds of affection for her beloved Maviaku. When things grew unbearable she drew strength from her memories of times shared with him.  This source of happiness, the like of which she’d never known, was, after all, inexhaustible.  So long as she drew breath she knew she could never forsake him for he, her first true love, was already an inseparable part of her being.

                                                                                ~

Three nights hence would be the second full moon of the last month of the year, also known as a Blue Moon.  Theirs was a superstitious nation, so many candles were lit and the residual smoke from the burning of incense imbued with scent crafted to scare away evil, permeated the air till dawn. Meanwhile, the Priests beat drums and held prayer sessions and sacrifices to appease the wandering evil spirits of the Blue Moon.

As soon as dusk fell, confident in their measures to rid the Palace of the least evil, exhausted from vigorous day’s activities, all denizens of the Palace and city had fallen into deep slumber peacefully tucked under warm quilts in their beds.  Complete silence prevailed throughout the Palace and the land.

At stroke of midnight the Princess suddenly awoke with a start.  She had sensed movement in the room. True enough there he was, the handsome young man was now turning away from the window to smile at her.

How fortunate that she had left the window ajar.

 “Please do not be frightened?” He approached her hesitantly. “I’m sorry I’ve disturbed you. “ He bit the corner of his lip to constrain the bursting emotions of rage and sorrow.  “You’ve endured such hardship on my account…I meant to come earlier, but…”

“It is I who should beg your forgiveness.” She interjected and, eyes brimming with tears, she shook her head in dismay. “They’ve treated you so abominably. And I, oh I felt so helpless to do anything about it!”

In truth, she’d done her best to sway them.  In the beginning she’d even secured her mother’s help by appealing to her compassion and when that yielded no result, enlisted her brothers’ help to reason with a father hell bent on revenge.  But it was all to no avail. Instead, all her efforts had further convinced His Majesty of her possession by the evil sorcerer (otherwise known as the Blue Moon entity), as well as necessitating harsher measures and her prolonged incarceration.

“It grieves me to say this, but I’ve come to bid you farewell. I will not forget you, ever.” Maviaku turned to hide the emerging tears.

Rushing over she grabbed his arm and in a sobbing voice pleaded, “Please don’t go.  But, if you must, I want to go with you, wherever that may be!”

He smiled and, cupping her face, looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve come to love you so very much. “ He leaned over and gently planted a kiss on her forehead.  “Know this, regardless of any future outcome; you are now and forever will be my one and only mate.”

His face grew grim and he nodded. “However, I should have known there was so little, perhaps no chance at all, for us. I’m sorry; this is the way it must be for now. “He turned to go, then stopped, and after a thoughtful pause, drew from his finger a ring. He then took off his shiny blue cloak and presented both of them to her.

“One thing I have learned is that there are infinite possibilities to this universe and that nothing in it can be deemed impossible.  Out of my deep regard and affection for you, I offer you the freedom to choose. Conceal this ring well and guard our shared secret.  Wear this garment when the Blue Moon manifests and remember that I love you from afar.  If, at the conclusion of your life span, you still have same affections for me, put on this ring on your forefinger and don the blue cloak.  On that night I give you my solemn pledge that I will return and from that day hence, we shall be eternally together.”

He then transformed into a song-bird and flew out the window.

Wiping her tears, she folded the garment carefully and placed it in the drawer of her night table but she sought a more secure location to hide the ring. As it so happened there was a stone encased in loose mortar in a dark corner of the room behind some furniture.  She’d discovered it when she was a child and concealed her most prized possessions there. It also contained the moon rock he had sculpted to resemble a bird.  Opening this niche she placed the ring alongside her other prized possessions. Then, though overcome with fatigue, when she went back to her bed and lay down, she was too emotionally overwrought to sleep. 

                                                                                               ~

She woke up feeling listless and somewhat disoriented when the sun’s brilliant rays streamed into the room.  She lay still with her eyes closed and lent half an ear to the bustling feet and muted but excited conversations of the attendants’ eager anticipation of the day’s events. They were bustling about, carefully selecting and rearranging the formal garments she would wear that day.  After the family breakfast in the main hall, there was to be a prayer session that would be presided over by His Eminence, that old coot, in the Grand Chapel.   In truth, hoping but doubting the validity of last night’s series of events and her brief encounter with her beloved Maviaku, she maintained the farce of sleep as long as possible  so as to carefully mull over the facts.

The day‘s tedious ceremonies and events seemed to last forever, but as soon as she could, she seized the first available opportunity  and snuck into her room, locked the door then proceeded to check the drawer. True enough, in there a strange blue garment was folded, but it was not gleaming or as extraordinary as she recalled. A moment later she fetched the ring from its hiding place and carefully examined it; running her fingers absently over the strange inscription underneath.  She next brought out the moonstone bird and, caressing it, kissed its beak before placing it back. 

The garment, despite its apparent simplicity, was secretly treasured by her. Thereon, after each Blue moon when everyone retired for the night she would, without fail, quietly don the blue garment and sit by the window waiting for her beloved to return. But he never did. As a small consolation she would feel his presence and warm embrace however, as she sat while the garment, basking under the moon’s rays, brilliantly glistened and came to life with countless dancing stars.

She was eventually forced to marry a Prince whose kingdom’s alliance was a political necessity. In time she bore three children. Her life in that other kingdom seemed surreal as she functioned within the parameters of acceptable behaviour for the wife of a Crown Prince who then became a King.  

During these years, she never wavered once from her initial promise to her true beloved and wore the blue cloak every Blue Moon.  She kept this secret well hidden from all, even her children.

Her warmongering husband the King eventually met his demise during one of his campaigns. After the elaborate funeral, the widowed Queen was allowed to return to the Palace in her homeland after her son, the Crown Prince, took the reins of power.

Eventually old age claimed the dowager Queen but by then her two other children had been married off to suitable diplomatic advantage and were living elsewhere. On this night of her final Blue Moon she asked her close confidant to fetch the plain blue cloak for her and help her don it. In tears the other did as she was bid and, complying with her wishes, left her Majesty alone. 

With some difficulty she retrieved the ring from its hiding place where it had lain for the many years since she had married. Finally the former Princess, now a dowager Queen, placed it on her fore-finger. Going over she sat by the window to await her beloved’s return.

This time he did come. He looked the same as before, not a day older.  Her inhibition soon melted away when he reached forward and kissed her on the mouth, gently breathing his magical dragon’s breath into her parted lips.  Instantly she was transformed into her young, vigorous, beautiful self. Better than her young self though, for she was now an immortal.

 “Are you ready?” He asked lovingly.

“I’ve been ready all my life.” She smiled back at him.

He reached his hand to hold hers and muttered a spell.

Instantly she was transformed into a colourful songbird. 

“I have so much to share, so much to teach you!”  He elatedly laughed.

And then, with Maviaku leading the way, they flew together through the open window.

The following morning, when the chief attendant entered the Dowager Queen’s quarters to awaken Her Grace, there was no trace of either Her Majesty or the blue garment.

The End.

 

 

 EYES WIDE OPEN

 

Many cultures throughout history have held similar beliefs that eyes, particularly the pupils, are “windows to the soul”.  Here’s a BoSt Production rendition, a fictional story that incorporates this particular insight.

Orphaned at the age of three Tuan Yong was brought up by his paternal uncle Tuan Gang who had begrudgingly taken him in.

His uncle Gang had an only son Tuan Min who happened to be six months older than Yong.  Min had two elder half-sisters but, being the only male offspring, was terribly fawned upon and spoiled from birth.

A special tutor was engaged to educate both children but with a particular onus to give the most attention and care to Min. Yong was pretty much left to his own devices to learn whatever he can. However Yong had the propensity to develop into a fine, intelligent, young man with high moral fibre.  Gifted with many exceptional abilities, generous to a fault in nature, as well as, possessing a rather statuesque, handsome physique, Yong had, in every imaginable way, far surpassed Min.  To the further consternation of his uncle Gang, Yong also possessed added brilliance and aptitude with the literary and the fine arts. By simply tapping into his vast reserves of imagination on top of his natural keen insight into nature, Yong would produce with the least effort dazzling masterpieces in a flash. He was therefore popular and held increasingly so in high regard by all his peers.

In contrast, Min, despite his efforts and many inherited advantages, could never measure up, always falling short in any social or academic endeavor. What’s more, as upstanding as Yong was in character and ability, Min was the opposite. But instead of acknowledging his inferiority, Min remained falsely confident, vain and cruel. 

Wishing to advance his only his son Min, Gang chose to be perpetually blinded to all his shortcomings. He refused to acknowledge the blatant facts when Min took full credit for Yong’s exemplary deeds and academic accolades. Most often Yong was also unfairly blamed and punished for many of Min’s loathsome acts. Moreover poor Yong would be severely reprimanded at each instance for his supposed failing to protect and deter Min from his nasty endeavors and his increasingly coarse, scandalous ways. 

As they grew up, to the added consternation of Gang, his son Min had become progressively wicked and licentious, warranting more additional funds and force to suppress the resulting damage. To make matters worse Min had become a compulsive gambler and a womanizer. His idle ways led him to spend most of his time in unsavory places doing many abhorrent things. All of which of course was covered up with a certain pressure and occasional bribery; even though this greatly   sapped Gang’s coffers.

Then came a day when Min committed an unpardonable crime; one that could not be so easily swept under the rug for any amount of finagling, threat or money. The situation was dire and something extreme needed to resolve it.

  In a private conference Uncle Tuan Gang spoke his mind after laying the blame squarely on Yong’s shoulders. “You should have been more insistent in your reasoning with Min and strove harder, been more persistent in order to prevent this catastrophic event.  As it is, the authorities will be wizened to it by morning and will be coming to make an arrest!”  

Finally, after all that ranting and raving, with his fury spent, Gang sat down and in a hissing voice added, “There might be, however, one last recourse left.  That is, if you, Tuan Yong are willing to face this probable peril. “Looking down he mumbled, “And considering all that I’ve done for you, you owe me, at least this one favor!”

Yong ‘s life by any means had not been an easy one, still he felt he owed his Uncle a debt of gratitude for his upbringing, education and shelter for  all these years.  He therefore had little choice but to accede to this unfair demand and shoulder the full blame for Min’s crime.

“I’m not an entirely unreasonable man however, “His uncle hemmed and hawed.  “That is why I’ve facilitated your escape. The authorities will look the other way till morning. This letter will give you the proper introductions to my friend Fan Wei who owes me a favor.  He lives in the Sekor district in Dara province. The journey will be hard on you I dare say, as it crosses much hostile territory and is close to the border, a far, far place from here. He will take you in all right; he owes me and he can use you in his employ till such a time that this thing blows over.  Is that agreeable to you?”

“Of course Uncle,” Yong fell on his knees, “I’m forever indebted to you for your mercy.”  What other response could Yong give?

Shortly after leaving all that he had known behind, armed with a letter, Yong made good his escape under cover of night.

His arduous trek eventually took him to the foothills of a great mountain range. Looking up, he observed the snow cowered peaks and just below that the expansive span of dense forest stretching as far as the eye could see.

Subsequently, his desperate gaze searched for accessible paths. He knew that crossing these mountains will be the last leg of his journey. From then on a far easier topography but harsher climate still awaited him. His provisions for sustenance were nearly exhausted, save for a small portion of dried bread and moldy cheese. Meanwhile though his foot-gear was threadbare he would still persevere, he was sure of it. He was only armed with a staff and a short knife for protection; fortunately though he had been spared from encounters with bandits or carnivorous beasts.

The snaking, narrow, rocky mountain paths with a sheer precipice on one side, led him ever upward for many a day, then one fine afternoon he found himself at the maw of a huge cave.   As the weather looked rather ominous, he entered the cave to seek shelter for the night.

With intermixed trepidation and eagerness in his heart, his feet carried him further and further in. As it was still daylight, he took advantage of the scant light streaming in. Eventually he arrived at a large opening, a huge chamber bathed in plenty of light.  Up ahead, his eyes beheld the source; an unexpected huge opening that looked out onto a distant forested mountain.  Incredibly a person clad in strange priestly garments was seated at a bench table, brush in hand, quite engaged in painting on a silk cloth.

Unable to believe his eyes, he tentatively advanced until he was right behind the seated stranger.  Leaning over he observed a most remarkable painting. It depicted the scene outside of the opening so perfectly, so lifelike.  An exclamation escaped Yong’s lips as he marveled at the artistry.

He took hold of his senses however and pulled back; then quickly apologized, “Please excuse me for this intrusion, but what an amazing ....” He’d suddenly found himself lost for words.

The stranger had at first remained perfectly still and quite unperturbed.  Presently he half turned to glance at Yong.

At once Yong bowed to the stranger who had by then risen to his feet and squarely faced him.  After his repeated apology for his infringement of the painter’s privacy, Yong formally introduced himself, and then exclaimed his deep admiration of the painting in progress. He rambled on without intending to for several minutes. A profusion of words and concepts mainly extrapolating on the points of the painting he admired streamed from his mouth; followed by other historical references and artists relating to the style and subject of the painting.

 “You seem quite knowledgeable of the arts” the stranger, who’d listened with unusual patience, finally smiled.  He then introduced himself as Liong Xiá and further inquired, “But what is this person Zhang Shen Yao you’ve made mention of?  I am not familiar with that person.”

Yong could hardly believe his ears, “Surely you jest, sir?” He politely smiled.   “He is a legendary artist, known far and wide in the realm.”  

But the stranger simply shook his head. In the ensuing silence, Yong was obliged to offer more explanations; and so, he succinctly told the account of the story of Zhang Seng Yao’s painting of Dragons:

He was a famous painter, during Wei-Jin the South and North Dynasties who excelled in painting animals, birds and particularly dragons.

According to legend, the Emperor had ordered him to paint dragons on the wall of AnLe temple.  After he drew four dragons, Zhang invited the emperor to take a look.

“But the work is incomplete! “The emperor was displeased, having at once noted that the dragons were drawn without the pupils.

“The absence of the pupils is purposeful, “Zhang quickly explained, “as they are the essence of the dragons.  To do otherwise would bring the creatures to life and usher in unwarranted consequences.”

The emperor, thinking this to be a high exaggeration of an egotistical artist, demanded Zhang complete his work. Zhang Shen Yao was therefore forced to do as he was bid. No sooner did he complete the eyes of two of the dragons, lightening flashed and thunders roared.  There was a strange mist that filled the air and in that chaos the two mighty dragons emerged through the mist. In a flash they dashed through the cave’s ceiling to instantly disappear without a trace into the sky.

When the smoke and mist cleared, the emperor saw that only two dragons remained on the wall.

“Quite an interesting account” Xiá nodded at the conclusion of Yong’s retelling of the story.  You have a flare with words, sir that enlivens the scene. Thank you for that.

“Nevertheless, “Yong added thoughtfully. “ As enduring as this legend is, and there are even supposed to be documented historical accounts of its validity in the Royal Library.   Now that I’ve said it out loud.... “Yong shrugged, doubting his original firm belief.  “Perhaps it’s nothing more than a high exaggeration to beguile or entertain the masses.”

“Who’s to say” Xia shrugged. “Then again...” He picked up and unrolled one of the scrolls then spread it across the table.

Yong was amazed at the lifelike painting of a bird... But what’s this? There were no pupils.

He looked up at Xie questioningly.

Xiá smiled, “Would you like to know?”

“Yes,” Yong eagerly nodded.

At which point Xie took a brush, dipped the tip in ink and simply painted in the pupils.

No sooner had he done that then, to the amazement of Yong, the bird blinked, his feathers ruffled, and then instantaneously came to life and simply flew away, escaping through the wide opening of the cave.

Yong knew at once that this was no ordinary mortal.  But his thoughts suddenly, for some reason, turned instead to the letter in his inner pocket.

“What’s this? “But then, when he reached for it, he discovered that it was missing.  Had he dropped it along the way?

Yong, looking up and saw the very letter with its seal intact in the hands of Xiá.

“Are you looking for this? “ Xia looked grim as he glanced at the letter. Then suddenly he fixed his eyes on Jiang and asked, “You’ve never once had the temptation to open it to see what’s inside?”

“Of course not!  It was not addressed to me.”  Yong gave his frank response.

”Then again, this once, perhaps you should have.” Xia pursed his lips.

Yong understood at once the peril that awaited him at the end of his journey.   After all his survival would have been a bane to Gang with so much at stake. It saddened Yong however that his Uncle had so little regard for him. Then again, perhaps his Uncle’s love for his son was far greater.

Having decided quickly he knelt before Liong Xiá. He then pleaded to be his pupil.

Xiá smiled and nodded. Then he held out the letter which disappeared in a puff of smoke.

The End.

 

 

 

 

 

KIYOHIME AND THE HEARTLES PRIEST

 KIYOHIME AND THE HEARTLESS PRIEST

 (A JAPANESE FOLKLORE REVISED BY BOST)

 

According to Japanese folklore Kiyohime (or simply Kiyo) was the daughter of a village headman named Shōji, on the Hidaka riverbank. The family was wealthy enough to entertain and provide lodging for traveling priests, who often passed by on their way to a shrine famous for ascetic practices.

One day a handsome visiting priest named Anchin, having arrived at dusk, accepted the gracious invitation to be Shoji’s guest for the night.

 He was served a sumptuous meal and, was treated very well all during the evening with his needs generously provided for. He was even given the best bedroom.  Unfortunately, during the course of the night his attention was taken by Shoji’s rather bashful, beautiful daughter Kiyo.

As Anchin was rather a debonair, handsome young priest with suave manners and eloquent tongue, Kiyo quickly became smitten by him. 

 Anchin had only recently joined the order of priesthood, besides, he’d always been a passionate, hot blooded young man; seeing that his feelings were reciprocated by this enchanting girl and so wanting more time to get to know Kiyo, he deferred his morning departure and instead made up a plausible excuse so as to extend his stay for a few more days.

It was a beautiful time of year, when the Earth wore the bright coloured cloak of spring and frolicking birds and insects filled the air with cheerful melody. A few surreptitious, fervent meetings led to intimacy and Anachin, having totally lost his head, fell deeply in love with Kiyo.

Unfortunately, Anchin, being a principled, devout individual, furthermore, being dedicated to his chosen vocation, he just as quickly regained his wits (right mind) and wished to extricate himself from this erroneous infatuation (obsession). His initial desire had been to let her down gently; nevertheless, seeing her as the temptress, his demeanor henceforth became icy cold towards her, and he refrained from any further covert meetings.  

Poor Kiyo wracked her brains for any explanation for this sudden change in Anchin and, failing to do so, fell into deep dismay.  In her view she’d been taken advantage of and most cruelly and reprehensibly victimized by Anachin; especially since until then she had been virtuous and proper. The rejection by this heartless rogue Priest fed the furies of her emotions fanning them into intense hatred. 

 When one afternoon Kiyohime was away visiting a neighbour, Anachin took advantage of her absence to escape this sticky situation. He quietly made his excuses to his host Shoji and quickly departed. 

She was incensed when she returned and found him already gone without a word. Beside herself, she dashed out of the house leaving her baffled father behind.

Tears coursing down her cheeks she ran and ran in hot pursuit of the unfaithful lover, with her heart in a terrible grip of fiery rage.  Kiyohime eventually caught up with Anchin at the edge of the Hidaka River.

Anchin, sighting her first, quickly hired the moored ferryman to help him across the river. Once on board, Anchin pressed the boatmen to gain speed.  Paying him additional funds, he further cautioned the boatman not to let her cross after him.   

Distraught Kiyohime was crushed when she saw Anchin’s icy, heartless glare before he turned his face away to urge the boatmen for speed. She was so incensed; she bit her lip until blood trickled down her chin. Oblivious to her pain she dove into the rapid flowing river and started to swim towards them.  She wanted some explanation, even a feeble excuse for his breaking his promise to her. While swimming in the torrent of the Hidaka River, thrashing this way and that, her heart was so filled with rage that it literally burst. Suddenly pitch darkness engulfed the waters. At that same moment she underwent a transformation, growing scales, becoming misshapen, and stretching until she turned into a fierce Dragon.

When Anchin looked back and, this time, saw her in the altered state of a monstrous Dragon effortlessly gliding through the foamy tumultuous waters, his heart skipped a beat.  Fortunately, the boat had just reached the other shore. Bypassing the boatman who was trying to moor his craft, he simply jumped onto the shore. His feet firmly planted on the ground; he raced towards the temple called Dōjō-ji.  His heart still in his mouth, sweating profusely and panting heavily, he begged the priests of Dōjōji for their cooperation and help in escaping this monster, the terrible evil spirit scourge that had taken on the form of a Dragon.   They believed in Anchin and quickly lowered the bell of the temple to hide him under it.

The Dragon at first hesitated to enter the temple. But then her icy breath blew open the enormous doors in a miasmic cloud of fog, dust and debris and she manifested inside.

“Where is he?” She roared. But no one was there to answer her as all the priests had taken flight and hid. Her fiery breath could have razed the temple to the ground, but she still retained some benevolence and instead forcefully restrained her wrath. 

She looked about her for a time, and then her keen sense picked up the frightened odor of Anchin quaking terribly, though well hidden, inside the giant bell.

Seething, the Dragon sliced through the air right across the room and coiled her enormous tail around the bell.  She thrashed the bell loudly for several times.  Anchin was nearly driven insane with all the noise and vibration.  However, he was trapped and deep down he knew he would pay for his momentary lapse of judgement and sin. So resigned to his fate, he started to pray quietly for absolution.

Too late!

For just then the Dragon having tired of this fruitless torment, gave a gigantic belch of fire that engulfed and quickly melted the bell with Anchin inside.

The End.