[Channel Teaser] How The Exiled Green Dragon Discovers Its
Own Humanity Hi everyone. All Things DnD is back with another story. Does a green dragon iiiineed to be evil? If a certain black dragon found their own
path maybe there is hope for other dragons to do the same. Listen to the story of a green dragon finding
their own way and defying all expectations. I watched from the cover of the trees as the
elves passed me by along the dirt road. They were traveling with a small horse-drawn
cart towards the nearby settlement. A small town of theirs, deep inside the forest,
where no men or orcs ever visited. It was a family of them, I think. A mother, a father, and two small elf children
who scampered around the cart. Which only reminded me of my own family, as
one of my claws flexed and left a furrow in the forest loam beneath my feet. I was the smallest of two siblings hatched
to two of the most cunning green dragons in existence. My mother and father had taught me and my
brother everything that they could. But I had always been smaller and weaker. And worse, in my parent’s eyes, I was not
cunning at all. My parents had told us time and again that
a green dragon’s fame and fortune rested on how well they could lie and manipulate
any situation to their advantage. They told me legends of our ancestors, who
through their wits and guile, had laid waste to entire kingdoms with mere words. And had lured foolish elves and men aplenty
into their waiting jaws. A dragon who could lie convincingly would
never go hungry, they said. Which was why I was always the weakest. The runt. The failure. No matter how many times father or mother
showed me or taught me, I just could not lie convincingly. Nor could I tell when anyone was lying to
me in turn. And my older brother showed me no mercy for
it either. He always tricked me into getting lost in
the forest. Or eating something that had been dead for
a week. My parents gave up on me long before I left
the nest. They called me a lost cause, and I was remitted
to eating the leftovers of every successful hunt and kill. Even in my first true hunting lesson, I was
a failure. We were supposed to ambush traveling merchants
who were lost in our forest. Father managed to scatter them easily enough,
but when I confronted the pair who had wandered in my direction, I failed. My task was simply to lure them into a thicket,
where they would be trapped, and I could eat them. But when I had talked to them from inside
the thicket, promising shelter and safety using the phrase in the common tongue father
had taught us, they had simply run away. And, I am ashamed to admit, I lost track of
them in our own forest. I returned to my family as they were gorging
themselves on horses and men, empty handed. And between mouthfuls, my brother mocked and
laughed at my failure again. My humiliation was complete as mother threw
the severed hindquarters of a horse at me and told me to leave the successful dragons
to their feast of man flesh. It was not long after that, that my parents
had driven me from the forest. Telling me in no uncertain terms that they
would kill me if I returned to their territory. And I believed them. So it was that I had flown as far as I could,
and collapsed from exhaustion in the forest I was now living in. It wasn’t a bad forest, all things considered. It was far from any major city, so no knights
or adventurers would come hunting for me. And I had kept a low profile by eating only
the deer and wildlife the whole two decades I had been here so far, despite having a settlement
of elves nearby. Which brought my attention back to the present
for a moment. I sniffed the air and the tantalizing scent
of elves met my nostrils again. Elves were a delicacy. My mother and father had not found many in
the forest near where I hatched, for it was far from the wilder forests they liked to
live in. But the few times they had brought pieces
back, they had been the tastiest food of all. Mother and father had told us that they were
the tastiest and most prized food of all for a reason. Because green dragons and elves had been at
war with each other for generations beyond memory even of dragon kind. They had also warned us as well, that while
men or any other of the two-legged races might believe our lies, elves never would. And would slay us given even half a chance. Without hesitation or mercy. The blood feud between our species was just
that strong. So it was that as the family of elves passed
in front of me, I was preparing to make the first large gamble of my life. Instead of trying to lure them away from the
road, I was going to attack them right there. I had, at first, considered allowing them
to pass. But the deer had been avoiding my area of
the forest of late. And I was growing desperately hungry. I figured that if I took out the male, the
female would be helpless. And while the children didn’t register as
a threat and didn’t seem very filling, I knew I would have to silence them too. Or else risk my presence being revealed to
the nearby settlement. I readied myself to leap and pounce on the
male, my mouth already watering from what was to come. And then, the most unexpected thing happened. The little girl, who had been running circles
around the family, tripped over a stone in the road and fell to the ground. And then she began to cry. I paused before springing. Wondering how this would change my plans and
observing how the family would react to their youngest member’s behavior. Would they scold her? Yell at her for being weak? Would her older brother torment her? Would they leave her behind? My expectations were shattered when the entire
family stopped to help her back to her feet. And I watched in confusion as they hugged
and kissed their youngest, all while talking to her in a friendly manner. Were they lying to her, only to bring her
more torment? Even though I was terrible at discerning tricks,
something about their mannerisms told me that this was not so… I was befuddled and in complete confusion,
as the father picked up the daughter and carried her in addition to leading the horse-cart
and carrying his belongings. Adding her to his own substantial burden. And then even more confused as the older brother
asked to help carry some of his father’s burden in turn. I was so confused by their behavior that I
didn’t even notice my opportunity to pounce had passed, until long after they were farther
down the road. And when I did, I cursed my own weakness and
hesitation as my unsatisfied appetite grumbled and complained. But I still couldn’t get the image out of
my head. Of the family of elves stopping to help their
fallen and weakest member. Several days passed after I failed to ambush
the elves on the road. I spent most of my time in or around the small
cave I had chosen for my lair. A few hunts for deer each day finally rewarded
me with a sick buck that was wandering the forest alone. And I killed and ate it without reserve. For I knew few diseases could touch me. And my kind is absolutely immune to any poison. But the memory of the elf family tormented
me in a way I couldn’t even describe to myself. Why were they… the way they were? Every time my own family had observed my failures
or discomfort, they had laughed at me or yelled at me or tormented me more. Especially if they were the source of my troubles. Because I was the failure. But at least I understood why they treated
me that way. I was expected to become strong and cunning. And instead I was the weakest of our kind
that had been hatched in a dozen millennia, they told me. And they were just trying to toughen me up
and make me smarter. So why was it that, when the elf child had
been in distress, they had done none of that?! But had instead checked on her health and
even carried her! Nothing made sense! After several days of these thoughts I decided
that, at the very least, I didn’t know as much as I should know about elves and their
warped ways. And I decided that I would observe them in
their settlement. After all, if I was going to live so close
to my mortal enemy, I should know as much about them as I could. Early the next morning I decided to stalk
down to the elven settlement and watch them for the day. As I neared my destination, the smell of elves
in the air became more predominant, and I could have just followed my nose if I had
been lost. Luckily, these elves had built their homes
in a grove of ancient and giant trees, and most of the area around their homes was infested
with undergrowth and shrubbery that I could hide in easily. And I soon found myself crouching in the undergrowth
near one of their vegetable gardens. The sound of elves going about their day surrounded
me shortly after sunrise, and I realized quickly just how many seemed to live here. They descended from their homes in the trees
seemingly at random, using ladders and steep staircases, and I was soon surrounded by activity. I watched as neighbors talked among each other. And it surprised me that, as before, there
were no hostilities or threats exchanged. My parents had frequently fought with other
dragons, even other greens, for the rights to their territory. Showing us their battle scars, and sometimes
bringing home scales, horns, or whole severed wings to show us of the other dragons they
had killed or driven off. Territory and hunting rights among dragons
was a matter of life or death after all. So it seemed wrong that these elves did not
fight despite being in such close proximity to each other. And I was even amazed as I witnessed members
of different families working together. Helping each other with their tasks and helping
each other tend their gardens. Something that would never happen among my
own kin. I even saw the little elven girl who had fallen
some days ago on the road, still with a scraped knee, accompanying her mother as she was apparently
taught about the plants in the garden in front of me. I remained as still as I could within the
shrubs and used a little of the weak forest magic I possessed to bend them around me and
hide me better. The mother spent many hours showing the different
plants to her daughter, who smiled back and plucked small berries and ate them while giggling. I found that the sight was… emotional, somehow. Had I been so dismissive of my own parents,
they would have clawed at me or bit my tail. For the briefest of moments, I thought the
child looked directly into my eyes, but I blinked. And when I opened my eyes again, she was not
in any panic. Nor did she point at me or reveal me. And she wasn’t even looking in my direction
anymore, so maybe I had imagined it. Finally the mother and daughter left, and
the rest of the day passed as I watched different families repeat what I had seen. Picking berries, tending the garden, or showing
their children the plants as well. I had to wait until long after sunset for
the opportunity to leave without being seen. But I found that as I left the settlement
behind, I had more questions than when I arrived. Why were the elves so… wrong? But then I remembered the smiles and giggles
of the little elven girl. And the beginnings of an idea crossed my mind. The beginnings of a blasphemous and terrible
idea. What if they were not the ones who were wrong? Over the next few months, I returned several
times to the settlement to watch its occupants. But I never strayed so far inside as that
first time. Lest I, again, risk being revealed in the
middle of it and killed. I had been foolish to be so brash that first
time, and I was now pretty sure the elven child had almost seen me. But I watched their comings and goings. I watched the males as they left every few
days to hunt deer together and always returned with more than enough for the ones who had
done the hunting. They appeared to share their hunts as well
as their vegetables. Which was very unlike what my own family had
done. I watched as the occasional traveler visited,
and all of the residents came out to greet them and exchange embraces and goods. Instead of exchanging threats and conflict,
as my own family would have done with visitors. And the entire settlement seemed to be happier
those nights, which I had thought to be impossible. I even watched as a new family arrived, and
the settlement worked together to build a new treehouse for the arrivals. And, again, welcomed them with open arms. It seemed like elves welcomed new arrivals
instead of driving them away. Which perplexed me. If so many of them lived so close together,
wouldn’t the food run out? As if in answer to my question, the very next
day the settlement planted a garden for the new family as well. And a great party was held in the center of
their grove of trees that same night. I could see the glow of their lights from
very far into the forest as I retreated from their revealing brilliance. And I realized even more deeply how the elves
lived the opposite way of everything I had been taught was right. And my suspicions only grew. One day I was hunting through the forest for
deer, when the sudden scent of elf crossed me again. This was unusual, because I was very far from
their settlement. And they had never ventured this far out before. What’s more, they were dangerously close
to my cave. Had they seen me watching them and come to
hunt me down or drive me away? For my own safety I had to know, so I abandoned
the scent of deer I had been following and instead followed the scent of elf. And what I found was not what I expected at
all. Wandering the forest, was the same elven child
I had now seen for the third time! She was all alone, and crying. She appeared to be calling for her mother
and father every few minutes, and I knew that she had somehow become lost in the forest. And was wandering even farther from the settlement
and towards my own home. My hunger reminded me that I had originally
been hunting for food anyway. And the smell of elf was appetizing as always. But as I followed the small child, her plight
reminded me of something from my own past. I too had once been lost in the forest, when
I was a small wyrmling. My brother had lied to me and tricked me into
traveling away from our lair instead of towards it. My father had eventually found me and scolded
me for wandering too far towards the human lands. He had clawed at me and said it was almost
my fault for revealing our presence to them. When I had pointed out that my brother had
given me the faulty directions, not only had they rewarded him for another successful trick,
but they punished me additionally for falling for his prank. Saying that they should have left me to be
slain by the humans I would have inevitably encountered. I had felt like I had brought shame to my
family my whole life for my shortcomings. Which is why, as the small elf girl cowered
beneath a tree to rest, I knew they would take even greater shame in what I was about
to do. But I saw an echo of myself in the circumstances
of this small elf child, that my hunger was still telling me to claim. Slowly and quietly, I stepped out of the concealing
foliage and approached the child. She was too busy crying in a huddle to even
notice me until I nuzzled her exposed leg with my snout. Once. Twice. A third time, and she finally looked up at
me. And her eyes went wide with fear as she screamed
loudly at the sight of me. I flinched back at the shrill noise so close
to my ears. But I would not abandon my task. I had strategically cornered her against the
trunk of the tree so she couldn’t run. And once she realized this she cowered once
more, if more desperately, into a huddled ball. My grasp of the common tongue was not so good,
or else I would have tried to reassure her before what I did next. As delicately as I could, I grabbed the collar
of her clothing with my mouth and brought my head back around to deposit her between
my wings. I then moved my wings together so as to hold
her in place and prevent her from jumping off and running. As it turned out, I didn’t even need to. When I let her clothing go, the elf child
stopped crying for a moment to look at me, and she didn’t resist as my wings held her
in place. She sobbed something in common or elvish I
didn’t understand. Perhaps questioning my intent. I could only cock my head to one side and
shake my head as I replied in draconic that I did not understand. And she too realized that we didn’t speak
the same language. As I carried her through the forest, she spoke
only a few times at first, before exhaustion clearly caught up with her and she fell asleep
on my back. I don’t know if it was seeing her helpless,
or seeing her at peace at last, that seemed to bring me satisfaction as I walked. Before long, the sounds of shouting elves
echoed through the forest ahead, rousing the child from her sleep. They were looking for her. I only hoped that they didn’t suddenly turn
their search towards me and find me. A silly hope, in retrospect, as I had already
revealed myself to the elf child and had no intentions of silencing or eating her. Once I was sure that we were close to the
elves, but still out of sight, I stopped walking before grabbing the child again and setting
her down. She had been quiet the whole time we approached
her kin. And for that I was thankful. But she looked at me questioningly for a moment
after I set her down. I pointed with one of my claws, indicating
that she should run back to her family, and she only continued to stare at me for a moment. As if not comprehending. I continued to point and look at her expectantly. And then she surprised me. She wrapped her arms around my forelimb, the
gesture I knew to be in imitation of the embraces that the elves shared among each other. It lasted only a moment before the child ran
away and towards her own kind. And I wasted no time myself. After a brief moment to recover from what
had just happened, I fled back towards my cave. A few minutes later, as the elves passed out
of my own hearing again, I counted myself lucky that I stumbled upon a herd of deer
that were fleeing the commotion behind me. And one of them satisfied my frustrated hunger
after I dragged its body back to my home. Over the next few days, I waited and expected
the elves to send hunting parties out to find and slay me. But to my surprise, they did not. They continued as if no one had seen me. Had not even encountered me. And while I was thankful that apparently the
child had not revealed my existence, I was perplexed and frustrated that I did not understand
why. I had fully been expecting to be forced to
leave because of my indiscretion. But no, life in the region continued on as
normal. Even as summer turned to fall and winter that
year. The only change was the seasons. And the seasonal behavior of the elves along
with it. The elves had made sure to stockpile large
amounts of food in the center of their grove for the coming months. And I had been forced to roam farther afield
in search of my own meals to avoid their hunters and gatherers. I was surprised when, one day in the middle
of winter, they held another celebration in the middle of their settlement and ate a large
communal meal together beneath the barren limbs of the trees. I managed to spot the familiar elf child with
her family and noted that they appeared not to have changed towards one another. Despite the little girl’s misadventure in
the forest. But this was not the last time I would see
her. Indeed as the years went by thereafter, I
sometimes found the young girl, or later the young woman, wandering the forest alone. And wondered if she was trying to find me
again. But I always hid or ran from her or any other
elf who strayed too far from their settlement. Because I did not want to be found. And because I feared what would come after. I had watched the settlement for years now. And I think I had finally come to understand
the elves. Their way was not power or conquest. Or even right or wrong. They simply seemed content to be content. And to help the others around them to remain
as such. Something that, until now, had seemed twisted
and foreign and alien to me. But which I now came to realize was a far
better way of life than the one I was born to. And dare I say, watching the elves go about
their happy lives, I shared in a small measure of their happiness. Knowing that I had chosen not to attack them
or eat them. And knowing that I never would. I would watch them from the outside. And wish them well. For I also knew that their brand of happiness
would forever be aloof from me. I was, after all, just the dragon who lurked
in their forest. Winter had come to the forest again. And I was now as familiar with the comings
and goings of the elves as I was with the seasons themselves. I knew when their hunting parties would roam
the forest. I knew when their festivals and celebrations
would be held. I even knew when the traders would visit on
the long road back towards the major cities. So I was surprised one day when the routines
of the forest were different than expected. The elves would have been celebrating their
festival at the winter solstice. And the deer would have been left to roam
the forest in peace. But instead, the wildlife was running every
which way. As if stirred up by a careless predator. And I knew I was not the one responsible. I stayed clear of the source of the disturbance,
for fear it was an inexperienced elf among an unexpected hunting party today. So instead, I went to one of my usual perches
near the settlement to watch their festival and feasting. And to witness their smiles and happiness
again. The tables were set, and the elves were gathered
as normal. But shortly after they began, cries rang out
from the forest, and the elves looked around in confusion and fear. And once again, I knew I was not the cause
of the commotion. I had long since learned to be careful around
the settlement, and only one elf even knew I existed. If she even remembered me at all anymore. No, the commotion drew nearer as smoke began
to waft through the grove. And the villagers panicked and fled as trouble
walked out of the surrounding forest. A band of orcs had come to the settlement. Roaming and raiding and pillaging. Just like my parents had taught me their kind
desired to do. They set the trees alight with torches as
they swarmed the settlement. Leaving the elven homes on fire among their
boughs and branches. I found that I was snarling as I watched this
invasion of the peaceful elves. Who fled for their lives before brutish and
thuggish orc warriors wielding spears and swords and axes. The orcs did not stop or cease or show any
mercy whatsoever to the elves. Even the few who were left behind and begged
for their lives at the point of orc blades. Old and helpless, nor young and innocent,
were spared. And it was then that I realized the full measure
of what monstrosity was. What these orcs did, killing and destroying
for no reason other than to enjoy it. Or, as I watched the orcs discover the elves’
food stores and begin to carry it off, even to satiate one’s own hunger at the expense
of others. As my own kind did. I could not help but feel something for the
elves, whom I had watched for so long from the forested shadows. And the end of their happiness was echoed
in myself at the realization that the elves would soon be no more. Unless something changed. Unless someone did something. Unless a monster was willing to fight other
monsters. I made my decision. I abandoned all pretense of stealth as I charged
into the fray. Every elf that saw me, screamed in terror
and ran. And every orc that saw me, simply stared. In surprise. In shock. In horror. Before I bit them in half or cut them down
with my claws. Only a few managed to shout or yell for aid
before I silenced their calls over the sounds of the village aflame. But I did not stop my counterattack upon them. And soon, I realized that I had charged right
into the middle of their warband. And I was surrounded by angry and vengeful
orcs at the very heart of the burning settlement. Where once there had been feasting and smiling
elves, there were now only bodies and wreckage and smoke. And rampaging orcs who waved their weapons
at me and began to surround me. The same orcs who had destroyed the elves’,
and my, happiness. I inhaled a great breath, preparing to unleash
my fury upon them. And they cowered behind crude wooden shields
or overturned tables. Probably expecting a stream of fire to be
exuded at them. But I was not a red dragon. Not a fire dragon. And the essence of my breath was much more
insidious than simple flames. I exhaled a cloud of poisonous green gas at
the monsters before me. And watched as it wound its way around every
overturned table or over every raised shield. And they bathed in my wrath. And many drowned in my fury. But I was not the largest nor the greatest
green dragon. And I had intentionally held back so as not
to poison any elves who might be hiding or wounded nearby. And when my breath was inevitably blown away,
or consumed by the roaring flames that surrounded us, there were many more orcs still around
me. And they were even more angry than before. They charged at me and swarmed over me. Hacking at my scales and wings with their
crude blades. And in turn I chomped at them. And slashed at them. And flung many into burning trees and houses. Or rolled over on top of them and crushed
them. I do not recall for how long we fought, but
before long, I was badly wounded and covered in blood. Much of it my own. And I was growing weaker. There were still a few dozen orcs left when
I finally collapsed to the ground. And the largest of those remaining walked
up to me as I was too drained to fend him off. Then he raised a great axe over his head. Preparing to chop off my own. All thoughts of surviving left me as the orc
continued raising his axe higher. But I did not panic. Nor did I fear. I only hoped that, for once, I had not failed. I hoped I had stopped the orcs from pursuing
the elves who were fleeing. And I hoped that they would be able to live
on after I was gone. But just as the orc began to swing his axe
down… an arrow shaft appeared in one of his eyes, and he collapsed dead to the ground
beside me. Postponing my execution. What followed after, I only remember as a
blur. Orcs howled their frustration and rage as
arrows and sword-wielding elves flew through the air with untraceable speed and lethality. The remainder of the orcs fled or fell dead,
and the ring of angry orcs around me was soon replaced with vengeful elves who now held
their swords at me or readied their bows. And the last thing I remember, I didn’t
know if I imagined it, was a very familiar looking young elf woman running towards me
from the crowd. And then, only darkness. I never expected to wake up again. After all, elves and green dragons had feuded
over the forests of this world for generations beyond memory. So I was surprised when my eyes opened to
sunlight again. Blinding and brilliant sunlight. And I felt the soreness and pain of my wounds. And something more. I looked around as my eyes adjusted and realized
that I was in the scorched remains of one of the elves’ gardens. And the elves had somehow placed strips of
cloth over my wounds to bandage them. But I was tied to a scorched tree by a rope
around my neck that radiated powerful magic. And I knew instantly that it was unbreakable. So I was a captive? Only until they decided to execute me, I reasoned. It was as I looked around, that a male elf
who had been silently sitting in the corner of the garden on a barrel yelled loudly in
their language and ran off. So they knew I was awake now, as well. It wasn’t long before many elves peeked
over the scorched hedges and walls of the garden and were staring at me from every angle. And more than one elven hunting bow was trained
on me. But none approached me, and I couldn’t blame
them. After that, it seemed like an eternity passed
under the wary gaze of the elves present, before an additional handful of older elves
stepped into the garden. The only exception was the elf child, now
the elf woman, who had met me before. And she wore the only smile of the group,
if a small one. The elders stopped short of me. Probably judging what I could reach with claws
or jaws on the end of my magical tether. And although the elf woman tried to approach
me, the elder in the lead placed an arm up to bar her path. It was then that I made the most shameful
noise a dragon can make, and a small whimper escaped my muzzle. I feared that she was in trouble because of
me. I lay my head back on the ashen earth, at
the mercy of the elves. No doubt they had come to pass judgment or
to make an announcement before condemning me to execution. But at least I knew that they would be safe
after I was gone. An aura of magic suddenly surrounded the oldest
elder, who had barred the woman’s path, and he placed a new enchantment around the
garden. Encompassing both myself and all of the elves
gathered. When he began to speak, despite the fact that
he was clearly still speaking in their language, I was surprised that I could understand the
general meaning of what he was saying. Even if I couldn’t understand the definitions
of the words he was using. He had cast some form of translation spell. I wasn’t expecting him to start by asking
me if I was the same dragon who had brought his granddaughter back to the settlement a
decade ago. Many of the elves present gasped when I confirmed
that I was, and the remaining elders and the crowd began to whisper and talk amongst themselves
about this. And once again, I couldn’t understand the
words, but I could understand their meanings. They were shocked that the little girl had
been telling the truth when she returned, and ever since. And they were also terrified that I had been
so close to them without their knowing. The fear and panic in their looks and voices
was a painful reminder of the reason I had always stayed hidden. The reason I had wanted to stay away. Once the crowd settled down, the elders took
turns questioning me. Their fear and distrust only grew with each
question and answer. As well as my own despair and trepidation. They asked me how long I had been in the forest. And I told them I had been living there for
three decades. Which visibly surprised them. They asked why there had never been any sight
or sign of me, and I told them that I had intentionally avoided any contact as much
as possible. Then another elder asked, if I was so intent
to avoid them, why had I been there on the day of their festival. And another added, accusingly and full of
hatred, why had I attacked at the same time the orcs had? Many angry murmurs echoed this thought from
the crowd. And I felt their hatred and their anger even
more tangibly than my wounds. I broke down in front of them then; I could
hold back my emotions and shame no longer. I told them it was because I was a weak dragon. And I told them everything. I told them I had been shunned and rejected
by my parents for being incompetent and weak. How I had finally been driven from my home
and flown as far away as I could. How I had watched their settlement and their
families and, in my weakness, realized that watching them be happy was the only thing
that had ever brought me peace. So, I had stayed away and not interfered with
them. And watched them from afar. And I told them that when I saw what the orcs
were doing, I realized just how wrong the orcs were for the things that they did. And just how wrong my own kind was for the
things that they did. I told them, when I realized they were doomed,
I couldn’t bear it. That, I would rather die knowing I had tried
to help them, than to live on without being able to watch them. As a dragon whose kind had only brought suffering
to others. When I was finally done talking, and I had
poured forth what seemed to be my very soul, I was exhausted. I was still drained from my battle and wounds,
and It felt as though every hope or happiness had left me again as I retold my story. My head crashed to the ground because I didn’t
have the energy to hold it up any longer. I was spent. They had their explanation, and I had nothing
left to live for. There was almost a comfort in the finality
of my situation, as I fell unconscious again. Fully expecting that, this time, the executioner’s
axe would finish its journey. And I was confused, when I awoke for the second
time, to find that it had not. It was the dark of early morning in the garden
when I opened my eyes, and I saw that a slain deer had been left in front of me. The sight of food made me realize how ravenous
I was from my exhaustion and wounds, and I ate it without a second thought. Incapable or unwilling to question why it
was there. When nothing was left of it but a few bloodstains
on the ashen earth, I realized that there was also a barrel of water within reach as
well. And I was just as parched from blood loss
as I was hungry. I stuck my head in it and drained it thoroughly
with equal abandon. When I was done, I finally looked around and
noted the absence of any elves standing guard in the garden. And also, the absence of the rope that had
bound me before, which only emphasized how helpless I was. Because, I was still wounded and weak and
bandaged, and I doubted very much that I would have the strength to even walk away any time
soon. Let alone fly. I looked up at the moon through the scorched
limbs that loomed overhead for a few minutes, wondering if I had just eaten my last meal,
before trying to go back to sleep. But my discomfort, both physical and emotional,
would not let me rest. When the sun rose later that morning, I was
surprised when only the young elf woman and her father walked into the garden. And they were carrying a barrel of water to
replace the one I had emptied. I was far too weak to do more than lift my
head a little as I watched. But when the woman saw that I was awake, she
smiled at me. And she reached out to touch my snout with
one of her hands, as her father watched nervously. When she patted the tip of my snout with her
hand, I couldn’t help but smell her. And, for the first time, I realized that elves
no longer smelled appetizing or made me hungry. They smelled like happiness and made me feel
at peace. But, I was even more surprised, when she began
speaking to me in crude draconic as she kneeled next to me. She told me thank you for bringing her back
to her people so many years ago, and she told me that I was no longer a prisoner. She even told me that I was free to leave,
and visit as much as I wanted to, once I was healed. But the whole time she was talking, she used
a word I had never even heard aloud before. She called me ‘friend.’ And, as I looked into her eyes, I made the
second most shameful noise a dragon can make. And I purred for a moment when I nuzzled her
hand in return. I’m not crying… okay, yes I am. What a fantastic story. Please let us know what you think and comment
below! Don’t forget to subscribe to our channel,
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