🐺 Dragon's Breath
A fable for creativity
A dragon smiles and takes a deep breath, unleashing his fire into the village town square. He looks around, then blows another blast. His aim is flawless. He douses his targets with perfect precision, leaving piles of ash in his wake.
The villagers stand by, watching his work, applauding and cheering on their town hero.
“That’s it!” yells the town elder. “Great job!”
When the dragon first arrived at the village, the people were terrified. But after observing his docile nature, they realized he meant them no harm. He merely wanted company. A wise villager found a way to use the dragon’s fire to fuel the town’s needs. Since then, the dragon has served a vital role in the village.
The dragon is happy, for the villagers give him an audience. And the people are happy, for the dragon fuels their fires.
One day, a village scientist comes running out of his lab.
“I’ve tamed fire!” he shouts, giving an impromptu demonstration to the villagers as they gather around him.
“Why do we need fire?” asks a villager. “We have the dragon.”
“Don’t you see? We can make our own fires now! Big ones, small ones, whatever size we like!”
Soon, the people start making their own fires, without the need of the dragon. With their newfound control, they realize the old dragon-lit fires were much too large, and soon become used to the convenience of their own fires.
The dragon remains in the village, but day by day, he has less to do. He slumps around the town asking if anyone needs his help, but they all shake their heads.
A kind woman takes pity on the dragon, and lets him light her stove. But the dragon is out of practice, so his flame explodes in a wild burst. He nearly burns her house down.
The town council holds a meeting. After much deliberation, they decide that the dragon is too dangerous, and it is unnatural for him to stay in the village. The dragon pleads with the council, but their decision is final.
The dragon’s threat never seemed to be a problem before. But now that they don’t need him anymore, he is sent away forevermore. His time in the village soon becomes lore.
The dragon flies far away, and retreats into a cave in the mightiest mountain he can find. He settles into the darkness of a deep cave, wrapping himself into a tight bundle. He soon loses the motivation to eat, to fly, and even to breathe his fire.
After weeks of solitude, flames begin to burn inside his belly. The dragon becomes seriously ill. His body becomes weak, and he begins to wonder if he has reached his final days. The dragon misses his days in the village, but doesn’t want to return to a place where he is not wanted.
Suddenly, the ground beneath the dragon begins to shake. He wonders if it is an earthquake.
A thundering voice echoes in the cave, “Why do you hold?”
The dragon looks around in a panic. “Who’s there?”
“I am the volcano. The mighty mountain in which you live. Now answer me: Why do you hold?”
“Hold what?”
“Your breath. You keep your fire held in your belly. I can feel it. You’re heating up the whole place!”
“Oh, I—I’m sorry. I can’t help it.”
“Of course you can. Let it out, boy!”
The dragon looks away. “There’s no point. The villagers make their own flames now. No one needs my fire anymore. Why bother breathing it?”
“What a silly question. Does the bird cease its song if no one is around to hear it?”
The ponders his question, then shakes his head.
The volcano goes on, “I erupt my lava every so often, when the time is right. Not because someone is watching, but because it is time. If I delay my eruption, it would build up into a disaster. Much like the fires in your belly.”
The dragon rubs his aching tummy.
“Volcanoes erupt, birds sing, dragons breathe fire. We are all gifted in different ways. Our powers were given to us, and it is our duty to share them with the world. We must not hold on to them, or they might tear us apart. Unleash your fire, boy, before it’s too late!”
The dragon’s breath quickens. “You’re right,” says the dragon. “I must let it out!”
“Wait! Not in here,” yells the volcano. “Spread that fire outside. It’s hot enough in here already.”
The dragon nods and flies out of the cave at once. He screams like he hasn’t in years. The flames start with a sputter, but soon become a torrential storm of fire. He laughs with delight, spraying his flame into the sky. With his fire unsealed, his illness is healed, and the dragon’s joy is once more revealed.
The next morning, the dragon sees a figure in the sky approaching him.
Can it be? he wonders. It’s another dragon!
“Hello there!” says the dragon as it approaches.
“Hello! I didn’t know there were other dragons out here. How did you find me?”
“I saw your signal,” replies the visitor.
“Signal?”
“Your fire. It shone like a beacon on a hill. It led me right to you.”
“Oh! I’m so glad you saw it. It’s been so long since my last breath.”
“I’m glad you let it out. Say, that fire of yours is quite strong! Could you teach me how to breathe it like that?”
The dragon smiles, and takes a deep breath.
If you liked this tale, you might enjoy the other fables in the Modern Fables section of this Substack:
And if you’re looking to dive deeper into longer, richer tales, then be sure to check out my new book of fables, Wandering Spirits:
Wandering Spirits: Modern Fables
I’ve waited three years to write these words: My debut book, Wandering Spirits, is out now!
While I don't think this was your intended message...
I wonder what happens when dragons collect and want to feel the effects of breathing fire ("Look what I can do!") after we decide we can do it better without them.
People need to express their gifts *and* feel some kind of reciprocity with others, I think. Otherwise, things can go out of whack.
It still hits. 🌋 Love the illo.