Nightmare or a Dream Laurence of Dragon Fame and Clothespin Soldier Ornaments
Excerpt from Laurence's 12th birthday:
The short brown female lizard-like dragon spent the night with him sniffling on his chest, clutching him tightly, not speaking, as if she knew he were leaving her.
The vision was clear and he wanted to comfort the poor creature. The scene dissolved into another. Laurence saw himself above the clouds, looking down on a fortress below him. The open doors were draped in fresh white flowers. He peered past the long line through the doors to see dragons and elves crowded in the main room. The hero’s meager possessions hung along the walls. A body shrouded in light lavender lay in the center on a raised stone slab, and he felt severe anguish, for he was the one who had died.
Then a deep voice boomed in his mind. “A dragon and his companion link by a strong tie built upon the companion’s absolute obedience, but ours was a familial relationship at its core.” An enormous black dragon with citrine eyes wailed thunderously in the fortress. His cries echoed around the jungle, answered by many who felt his pain and knew their hero had left them for good.
Laurence stirred restlessly in his sleep. “Who are you?”
“I was once tu patér - your father.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Di Draco has hidden away an important piece of paper regarding you. Retrieve it. Obey.” The eye centered on him.
“Help. Help.” Laurence screamed. “Don’t look at me.”
“Master Laurence, quiet,” whispered Jules. “I’m right here.”
“Let me guess. Another nightmare?” Arturo stood in the doorway, irritated.
“It told me I’m supposed to submit to it.” Laurence trembled.
“You dreamed.” Jules sat on Laurence’s bed. “Dragons don’t speak. They roar.”
“I don’t want to be its slave.”
His father strode to his bed and squeezed his son’s shoulders. “What’s the matter with you, boy? Do you want to be burned to death? Do you want to watch us burn? Don’t mention these demons again, do you understand?” He flung him down on the bed. “Tomorrow morning, Jules will punish you for your sacrilegious thoughts. You like prayer so much, you’ll pray the entire day for forgiveness. You get no food until evening.” He pointed his finger at his son. “You act like an oaf again, you’ll sleep in the stable.” Arturo stormed back to his room.
Laurence gaped at Jules.
“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” said Jules. “We’ll worry tomorrow about what must come.”
“You were once a knight who protected our King. How did you overcome your fears and nightmares?”
“I wasn’t a knight once; I will always be so. We all have fears, my young Master. You must face them.”
“Someday, I’ll make that dragon sorry it taunted me all these years.”
“I have no doubt that you will.”
In the wee hours Laurence crept into his father’s room while his father slumbered away. What the beast had explained about some paper nagged at Laurence and he had to know for certain. Carefully he searched through drawers and chests and discovered an ancient box in a trunk, but it needed a key. He sliced through the bottom with his poniard and removed the document, then put the box back, re-covered it, secured the lid on the trunk, and hurried to his room.
In the early morning light, what he read terrified him. The dragon hadn’t lied. What was worse was that he belonged to it. More worrisome was the section inscribed in a mysterious language that he somehow understood. Written to him personally it read, ‘Laurence, mi silius, don’t be afraid or stubborn. You are meant to work with me to save our kind. Long ago, my blood ran through your veins, for you were our Lone Hero and will always be so.’ Laurence read the document then tossed it in his fireplace and watched it burn until not one piece was left.
'The Lone Hero' is available where-ever ebooks are sold for only $1.99. ' 'Laurence of Dragon Fame' will be available soon.
I found this delightful pattern at Altogether Christmas
- Round top wooden clothespins
- Red and blue craft paint
- Red pipe cleaners
- Red and blue pom poms
- Gold craft braid
- Gold string or thread
- Thin black marker
- Craft glue gun
Love, honor, and respect to all.