Michael T. Hare

Short Story: The Biggest Fool

‘Only a fool seeks a dragon.’ That was how the saying went. And Owen may have been the biggest fool in the Kingdom of Taergelda.

He stood firm, hand outstretched toward the fiery beast. It was a Fire Dragon—a species characterized by flame and ash. It crept forward, ebony claws slicing through the dirt, crimson scales bulging and rippling over muscle, smoke rising from its nostrils.

Owen’s heart synced with every thunderous step the dragon took. One wrong move would make him a dead man. He knew that.

“Owen!” hissed Gavin, hand cupped around his mouth. “I’ve seen enough! Let’s go back to the boat where it’s safe!”

Grinning at his brother’s meager hiding spot, Owen replied, “That tree won’t hide you for long, Gavin.”

“What kind of response is that?” came the exasperated reply.

The Fire Dragon’s pupils thinned, its gaze bouncing over to Gavin.

Gavin froze in place.

With an inquisitive snort, the dragon left Owen and began to move in his direction instead. “Hey, no,” murmured Gavin. “No, stay away.” His voice ascended until it was just below a frightened shriek. “Get back! Shoo! Fly away or something!”

The Fire Dragon’s throat quivered with a bone-rattling hum, and it took a single sniff. Instantly, the sounds of curiosity died. An excited grunt followed. The Fire Dragon’s gait increased.

Slack-jawed and pale, Gavin inched away from the approaching dragon. “Owen, make it stop,” he said, his voice far more controlled than his demeanor implied.

Pressing his thumb and index finger against his mouth, Owen observed with an amused smile.

“Owen, this isn’t funny. Make it stop.”

The Fire Dragon opened its mouth, exposing rows of long, serrated incisors. Gavin emitted what sounded like the moan of an ill animal and stared wide-eyed at the terrifying new view. “Owen, I find it very unsettling that you haven’t—”

The Fire Dragon lunged.

“OWEN!”

A stone hindered Gavin’s attempt to run, and he landed hard on his palms, just in time for the dragon to plunge its snout at his back. Teeth hooked around Gavin’s travel bag, and he was hoisted in the air, all the while thrashing and screaming oaths.

Owen doubled over in a burst of laughter. He’d spent enough time around dragons to understand their behaviors—this one wasn’t aggressive. If anything, it seemed playful and wasn’t about to let Gavin win this little game of ‘steal the food.’

“It only wants the food!” guffawed Owen.

“I don’t want to be food!”

“No, it doesn’t want you. It wants—”

The bag tore in the dragon’s teeth. Owen winced as Gavin plummeted straight into a patch of ferns. The Fire Dragon crept closer, ran its muzzle into the bag, and withdrew their meat reserves. Owen sighed, but there was no stopping a dragon.

Crimson red wings unfolded at the Fire Dragon’s sides, revealing its soft, black underbelly before a violent wind made Owen stagger. The beast was rising, wings pumping and membrane lapping with every massive flap until it was high above the pines. A conclusive roar announced the Fire Dragon’s departure, and then it was gone, leaving only an echo.

“Quite an adventure, aye Gavin?” jested Owen.

Gavin emerged from the greenery, dusting himself off. “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

“Ah, yes, what a terrible man I am,” mused Owen. “Though I suppose now you’ll keep your mouth shut regarding my adventures.” He gave Gavin a sideways glance and smirked. “Still want to call me crazy, brother? Or have I persuaded you otherwise?”

“They were just little comments!” Gavin said, aghast.

Owen shrugged and began hiking down the mountainside. “Still… it was fun to watch.”

Gavin shook his head. “You knew it wouldn’t kill me.”

“I know a vicious dragon when I see one,” explained Owen. “And our scaly friend was anything but, though I was a little intimidated at first.” The descent was steep and blanketed by thick mantles of fern, but he kept an eye on their destination—a longboat in the distance, swaying on the aquamarine coast of the island. “I suspect it was trying to sniff out our reserves.”

“Well, it certainly found them.”

“Yes, and a screaming man as well,” remarked Owen.

“Alright, alright, alright,” Gavin said, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m sorry, okay? I never should’ve called you crazy. It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Owen said. “That was more fun than I expected—”

Gavin’s leg knocked into Owen’s foot, causing him to trip and land on his rear. He yelped, sliding the rest of the way down. A peal of laughter rose from behind, and Owen managed to look over his shoulder and see Gavin, cackling shamelessly.

“See you at the bottom!” he cried.

Owen growled and groaned, his momentum slowing until he lay in a heap of loose pebbles and dirt clods. “That… was completely uncalled for!” he said, jabbing a finger at Gavin, who was trekking the rest of the way down with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Hey, since when do I let you have all the fun?” Gavin leaped the rest of the way down and slid to a calculated stop.

Show off, thought Owen. “Not a bad jerk, yourself,” he said, standing and brushing himself off.

“Come now,” Gavin said, patting his friend on the shoulder. In any other situation, Owen would’ve taken the gesture as a kind one, but no, not today. He recognized it—a trademark gloating weapon of Gavin’s. “Are we looking for dragons or not?”

Owen snatched Gavin by the wrist. “Not after that, we aren’t!”

Smirking, Gavin yanked on his hold, but Owen brought up his forearm, bracing himself against Gavin’s chest before the headlock came. “Not today,” he panted. “That all you got, Gavin? Don’t tell me the dragon drained all your fight.”

“Me? Drained? Never!” Gavin clutched Owen’s arm and shoved it down. Owen went forward at an angle. Panic surged into him, and he ducked just in time, avoiding another attempted headlock, but Gavin still had his wrist in a relentless grip.

Owen dropped and shifted his weight, pulling his friend down. Gavin nearly overpowered him, but a few aggravating moments ensured Owen was on top, pressing Gavin against the overgrowth. “Pinned you!” he roared, muscles burning against Gavin’s strength.

Gavin laughed. “We’re twenty now, old friend! There is no pinned anymore! The victor is—”

A deafening sound rebounded across the sky, coming from the rows of mountains overlooking their spot. It was a roar, louder and more sudden than a clap of thunder. Owen paused, stomach knotting with recognition. He knew that roar.

“What was that?” grunted Gavin.

Vibrations pulsed through the earth, causing the trees to tremble and shed flocks of birds.

Owen relinquished the fight with Gavin and squinted up at the mountains. First, a deafening roar, and now earthquakes. It was a dragon, no doubt, and he was convinced of its species; something between dread and excitement bubbled within him.

“Hey, Gavin,” he said. “Ever faced an angry Earth Dragon before?”

Even with his back turned, Owen knew Gavin had just scrubbed a hand down his face.