Dodge and The Tale of the Leprechaun Fish

Dodge was not known for his restraint when it came to a good story—or a good drink. And this particular tale? Well, let’s just say the more generous the pour, the richer the details became.

It was a hot afternoon, the kind where even the river seemed tired, moving slow and thick under the weight of summer. Dodge had stripped down to take a swim, floating lazily beneath the trees, when something caught his eye—a flash of gold, red, green.

Dodge had always said there were two kinds of luck—the kind that kept you alive and the kind that made you rich. The first was mandatory, but he preferred both.

That’s why when he spotted the fish, he didn’t hesitate.

A fish.

But not just any fish—a Leprechaun Fish.

Now, most folks would have written it off as a trick of the light, but Dodge knew better. He had heard the old stories, the whispered tales in dim-lit taverns, and if even half of them were true, this fish was worth more than any bounty.

He swam after it, cutting through the water as fast as the current allowed, watching as the shimmering creature darted through the shallows, weaving between rocks and reeds like it was taunting him.

Then, in one final burst of speed, it disappeared. Gone. Just like that.

But when Dodge kicked forward, searching the spot where it had vanished, he saw it.

Gold.

A thick, rich deposit gleaming beneath the water, tucked beneath smooth stone and silt—a fortune waiting in the depths.

He had laughed, loud enough to startle the birds, and wasted no time claiming what he could before the river swallowed its secret again.

That was years ago.

Since then, Dodge had returned countless times, chasing the glimmer, watching for the streak of bright scales. And glimpses? Yes, those, he had found. Fleeting flashes of golden scales in the current, teasing him, luring him onward, but never again had he managed to follow it back to another deposit. Never had he truly caught the thing.

And yet, he never stopped looking.

Now, with an offered drink in hand and the right price on the table, he might lean in, lower his voice, and offer up just enough to tempt fortune seekers into trying their luck.

Where had he seen it last? Ah, well—that’s the question, isn’t it?

Of course, a good performer never gave away the full story for free.

After all, some treasures were meant to be chased.