Eight Dragons

There weren't always Dragons in the Valley. They came in one by one. It was a rainy Sunday when the first one appeared. Its fiery breath had burned the preacher, who had been talking about God's wrath. The children had laughed. The pious minister looked taken back. The service had ended early, and the worshipers cleared the square. The dragon flew in the sky. It glowed, brighter than the moon at night. And then three days, later the people noticed another. The pair seemed to dance in the sky. A collage of colors. The local painter tried to reproduce the sight. The villagers were praying that the creatures would leave, but a couple of days later the sky was filled with three. The weavers changed their weavings, and the colors of the sky appeared in the artist's fabric. People occasionally peeped out of their huts. But the usually busy streets were void of activity. The villagers sighed in dismay when the fourth one appeared. They wouldn't have even known what the dragons were if it hadn't been for the storyteller who traveled from village to village. Four more appeared over the next week. The villagers silently groaned. They expected to be overrun with dragons, but days passed, and no more appeared.

And then things got even weirder. One day there was a huge puff of purple smoke, and a strange smell filled the village. When the smoke cleared there stood a funny little man waving a wand. The man looked around bewildered. Then he noticed the sky stuffed with dragons. He gazed up and started pacing. The villager stared in wonder they would have preferred a knight. The storyteller always talked of knights killing the dragons. The sky was beautiful, but the dragons were obstructing their lives. And then all of a sudden there were two wizards. The two men talked and seemed to argue. They each one at a time waved their wands and magically two more wizards appeared. The four wizards seemed to all know each other. They waved their wands at the sky. The bright colors in the sky flickered but all eight dragons were still there. Then one wizard twirled his wand and three more wizards appeared. They seemed not to notice the villagers. The seven wizards talked. and then they again turned to the sky The wizards again waved their magic wands, and the colors up above flickered. The villagers stared in happy wonderment because it seemed as if two of the dragons were gone, The people felt a mild excitement as the men waved their wands and two more dragons disappeared. The four remaining dragons headed towards the wizards, Their fiery breath getting closer and closer to the seven men. But the seven wizards were quicker. They waved their wands and the sky and valley were clear of dragons.

The villagers rushed out to thank the seven wizards. Hopefully, they would not expect more than a good meal for thanks. The minister reached his hand out to thank one of the wizards, but the wizard in a flash disappeared. The remaining six wizards seemed uncomfortable. They appeared not to want thanks. The minister stood in indecision. In fact, all the villagers did. As the villagers watched another wizard vanished. The five wizards chatted, ignoring the stunned inhabitants. And suddenly there were only four of the magic men standing there, The wizards started chanting a song. They did a funny little dance, and purple smoke filled the village again. The funny smell caused the villagers to cough. Moments later the smoke cleared and the four men were gone.