The Dragon Spirit

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley, you know.”

I stared at my reflection in the silver of the broach. Its jewelled eye glistened, the same amber as my own, like it was made for me.

Someone prodded my shoulder. I tore my gaze away, meeting that of a freakishly tall man, leaning on a cane despite the youth of his face. “Did you even hear me?” he asked with a grin.

“What?” I blinked, dazed.

“The dragons,” he said, pointing at the broach. “You hardly remember it, but there was a time before them.”

“How boring,” I muttered, shoving my hands in my pockets to capture any coins that had fled to their seams, pondering their weight on my palms.

“Did you never think that this old festival was for something more than a group of guards with a stolen name?”

“Look, dude, I don’t know who you are,” I sighed, now counting my money, “but you’re sounding an awful lot like an anarchist sympathiser right now.” Drat, am I really three coins short?

The stranger just sighed, “There is fire in your soul. I can see it in your eyes. There is a place in this world for you, Cassidy. You just need to be brave enough to take it.”

I scoffed, then frowned, “That’s not my–”

The crowd weaved and breathed around me. Somewhere, somehow, it had swallowed the man whole.

“–buying anything there, Cassidy, was it?”

I whipped back around. The shop keep waited expectantly.

“O-Oh,” I stammered, contemplating the coins in my hand, “It’s Lydia, actually. Sorry, I don’t think I have–” but then I glanced down at the countertop. There, in place of the stranger, three coins caught the setting sun.

*

I strutted through the square; silver broach pinned to my jacket like it filled a hole just above my heart. Festival-goers swerved around me like they already knew I would be next – the next dragon. The best of the best, the elite force that chose this pitiful town as their outpost. Distant notes of a violin filled the air; the flag of the empire billowed in the wind and beneath it, there they stood. Proud soldiers, few in number but mighty in force, their dragon emblem painted across their chests. Try-outs for lower squadrons were just a week away. Then they’ll see – then they’ll all see. There is fire in my eyes. This is my story; I was always meant for more.

“Stephanie!” I threw the door open. It rattled against the wall, deepening the mark already hammered into the stone.

“Lydia,” smiled Stephanie’s father, brushing flour from his hands, “What have I told you about the door?”

“Sorry, Mr Bell,” I lied. “Where’s Stephanie?”

“Where do you think?”

I scurried through the house without an invitation, leaping up the rickety old stairs several at a time.

“Stephanie!”

A shrill yelp filled my ears as I barrelled my way through the trap door. The gentle sounds of her violin screeched to a halt; for a moment it looked as though she were contemplating whether to hit her intruder with the back of the violin or attempt discovering whether the instrument’s bow could fire a non-existent arrow.

“It’s me, you silly mouse,” I teased, tossing my hair over one shoulder so the new broach was on full display.

She lowered her makeshift weapon with a sigh and a flush of red on her cheeks, “I-I told you to stop doing that…”

“Doing what? Kicking doors open? But that’s one of my many skills! Taking a single skill off my resume will ruin my chances with the dragons. You don’t want to do that, do you?”

“Stop calling me mouse!” she laughed, twisting a strand of her pretty blonde hair around a finger.

“Then stop acting like one,” I huffed, taking the opportunity to rest an arm on her shoulder, “And consider growing.”

“Y-You’re just tall,” she insisted, kicking at the ground and smiling stupidly.

“No, you are just very, very tiny.”

“Sorry…”

“You should be,” I nodded. “Anyway! Notice anything… different?” I asked, tossing my hair aside once more.

“Um… did you… u-um…”

“Look at this cool badge I bought!”

“Oh! That’s nice.”

“Nice?” I scoffed, pulling at it and stepping closer so she could get a better look, “It’s amazing! Look at it, look at its eye; it was made for me!”

“Y-Yes! So pretty! I-I’m mean it’s so pretty – and you… pretty… too… but together–”

“It’s a sign, Stephanie!” I gasped, hands on her shoulders. “One day, I’m going to be a dragon.”

Something in her face changed, “You really still–”

“Look, my friend, our kingdom!” I proclaimed, twisting her to face the town before us, washing lines doubling as bunting as the golden sky haloed the mountains. The sounds of distant singing and dancing and laughter mingled with the gush of the river. This quaint home was our paradise. One day, it would see me as more than just another kid: another mouth to feed. “One day, this festival is going to be for us. Well, for me, but yeah.”

“U-Us?” Stephanie stammered, “Lydia… I don’t think–”

“Don’t you worry, I’ve got it all planned out!” I grinned, sitting down at the edge of the flat roof so I could dangle my legs over the edge. “I’m joining the wolves – the fierce, the strong! And I know that’s not your speed, so that leaves the serpents or the bats. Serpents are all spies and sneaky and, I’ll be honest–”

“I’m not athletic enough?” Stephanie mumbled, sitting down beside me, brushing out the creases in her long skirt.

“Too… wonderful of a presence to hide in the shadows!” I corrected her.

She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“So, bats it is! I think you’d be great at that – magic and… and books.”

“And books?” she repeated with a soft laugh.

“They research stuff! Sometimes… Anyway, I think you’d make a great bat. And I’ll be the best cadet wolf they’ve ever seen! It’s simply the way it has to be. This is my story and I get to choose where it goes.”

Stephanie’s smile faded. She fiddled with her fingers; brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” I pressed.

“Lydia, I… Are you sure joining the wolves or the dragons or–”

“–The bats!”

“Y-Yes… are you sure it’s the right thing to do?”

I laughed, “What are you talking about?! The dragons are like the… the royal word. They’re what everyone ever should want to be!”

Stephanie gazed upon our kingdom again, “…Are they?”

I rolled my eyes, “What’s with you today? You sound like an anarchist.”

“I-I’m not!” she cried suddenly, as though scared I’d report her. “But don’t you, um… don’t you think they call them that because they want us to… to not…”

“Spit it out, Stephanie.”

“They’re not anarchists. They… just hope for a different way of life.”

“Yeah, one without the empire, without the dragons – which is practically anarchy.”

There was a distant roaring cheer. A glowing light was cast upon distant houses as the celebratory fire of the dragon festival was finally lit.

“Come on,” I huffed, getting to my feet, “We’re missing out!”

But Stephanie didn’t move, “Sorry… I promised my dad I would have dinner with–”

“You do this every year!” I cried. “Come on, you’re old enough to make your own decisions, let’s go.”

“Y-You could stay?” Stephanie asked hesitantly as she retrieved her discarded violin. “It could be nice…”

I let out a deep sigh, “…Fine.”

“R-Really?!”

“As long as you’ll at least think about trying out for the bats.”

“I… ok.”

“And that doesn’t mean just forgetting about it immediately!” I grinned, nudging her side playfully.

“Ok!” she laughed, “Ok, I’ll think about it.”

I opened the trap door for her, and she drifted gracefully down the stairs. With one last glance towards the town, the dragons and the rest all standing guard, patrolling the streets, searching for stragglers yet to join the party in the square, I slid into the shadow of the house.

“You know, one of these days you’re gonna get into real trouble for missing out on the festival,” I called down through the little house.

“I hear you will be joining us though, Lydia?” Mr Bell asked uncertainly, glancing at his daughter as though he also thought this would be a bad idea.

I reached the bottom of the stairs, “If… that’s alright?”

“Of course! But…”

“…But?”

“If you stay, you have to be respectful.”

I frowned, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Stephanie’s dad sighed, “Well, shall we get started?”

My friend grinned, candlelight flickering in her eyes. She discarded her instrument on the old armchair and went to close all the curtains.

Mr Bell gestured me to sit down at the table, where a simple platter of bread and fish lay waiting. He began to light the remainder of the candles whilst Stephanie eagerly took the chair beside me, shuffling it closer.

“This is a very important day for our family,” Mr Bell explained. “Once, it was an important day for all the valley, before the dragons came.”

I side-eyed Stephanie, who just grinned innocently, “But it is an important day,” I acknowledged. “It’s the dragon festival.”

The old man sighed, “Yes, yes, it is. To your grandparents, that meant a very different thing.” He reached out and took his daughter’s hand. She took mine, and he waited for me to take his other. Cautiously, my promise of respect ringing in my ears, I did.

The two of them closed their eyes. Mine remained open as Mr Bell began: “Great spirit of the dragon, this day we honour you. As you pledge your soul to us, our souls we pledge to you. Let the river run ever clear, the hills grow ever green, and the sky be ever blue. The meal, we dedicate to you.”

They let go of my hands, and silently reached for a tiny loaf of bread and a sliver of fish.

“Eat only half,” Mr Bell instructed before I could eat the whole thing in one bite.

I watched Stephanie delicately split everything she took into equal pieces, placing that discarded half on top of a square cloth to the side of her plate. More confused than ever, I slowly did the same.

There was little to eat but supplies in the town had been running low for quite some time now. Leaving half of a good meal aside seemed ludicrous. It didn’t take long to finish, but it took the other two much longer. Finally, all that remained sat on those pieces of cloth.

Mr Bell stood up, “Ready? We should hurry, we’re pushing it close this year.”

Stephanie hummed in agreement, chair screeching backwards. I stood up too and followed suit as they each tied their remaining portion of food up in the cloth, took a candle off the table, and marched to the back door.

“…What are we doing?” I murmured to Stephanie.

“Going up the mountain,” she whispered in reply whilst her dad peaked cautiously out the door.

“Going where?!”

“Shh!” Mr Bell hissed, and we scurried out behind him.

In absolute silence, I followed the little family down the back alleys and into the woods. The dim light of our candles did about as much as the final wisps of sunlight to guide our way. The dirt path snaked through the trees, becoming harsher and steeper the deeper we went.

To my surprise, other distant lights soon joined our trek, the candles bobbing behind bushes and boulders. We joined a whole crowd of villagers helping each other up and down the treacherous-feeling road (if one could even call it that). Yet, somehow, it was a shorter journey than I’d expected. Soon enough, about halfway up the mountainside, we came to a plateau. Weaving past a vaguely familiar group of people, I was led to the entrance of a cave.

Its entrance was blocked partially by stalactites and stalagmites, the floor was coated in ash and soot. Inside, shelves of rock were covered with endless candles, flowers, loaves, cakes, meats, cheeses, anything you could imagine, all ripped into half pieces.

Stephanie and her father found a free space and left their offerings there too. Stephanie looked to me expectantly, indicating to a spot beside her own food.

“…You just leave all this food here?” I whispered. “What happens to it?”

“It’s for the dragon spirit,” she explained like that made any sense whatsoever. “When the sun sets, the cave will seal again, and it won’t open until next year. All the food will be gone.”

“…Because someone clearly gets in and eats it all!” I hissed in shock. “We can’t afford to be wasting all this food, what is everyone thinking?!”

A few passers-by looked at me with unwarranted horror.

“It’s for protection,” Mr Bell insisted. “Just put the food down. Come outside and then we’ll explain. It’s not safe to stay inside here.”

With a huff, I roughly tossed my food onto the stone and slammed my candle beside it. A few others were snuffed out in the process, including Stephanie’s. A little upset, she reached for mine to light hers again, but her dad grasped both our arms and pulled us outside.

“I told you to be respectful,” he scolded me.

“That was before I realised so much food was just being left in a cave to rot every year!” I retorted.

“Quiet,” he hushed, “Stephanie, I told you this wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“S-She just doesn’t understand!”

“Yeah, I don’t.” I roughly pulled my arm away from the man, turning back to all the food and shaking my head in disbelief.

“Lydia, do you really think the dragon festival is for those dragons?” Mr Bell queried.

I glanced down at the broach on my jacket. “You said this was for protection. The dragon spirit? Some soul of a non-existent beast isn’t going to do any protecting. That’s what the real dragons are for.”

“The body of a wolf, the wings of a bat, the armour of a serpent,” Stephanie recited. “That is what makes a dragon. But the fire, that comes from people. People like you!”

“There is fire in your soul. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Look, I get it,” I huffed. “It’s a tradition, from before the dragons – the soldier dragons – came here. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that this is a lot of food, at a time where we don’t have nearly enough!”

Someone gave me an evil glare. She pulled Mr Bell aside to tell him off.

I turned to Stephanie, “Come on, Steph! You know I’m right.”

“I-I…” she stammered, glancing at the group of people now gathering around her dad, all clearly not impressed by my clear and irrevocable logic. “I just thought you’d like to see the other side of things…”

“I can’t believe you,” I said, shaking my head and stepping back from her, the sun now disappearing beyond the jagged horizon, shrouding us in darkness. “All this time, you’re an anarchist sympathiser!”

“Lydia! I told you it’s n-not like–”

“This can’t go on. I’ll have to tell–”

“Not a chance.” And someone wrapped their hands around my waist, hoisting me into the air. I screeched and kicked, and I heard Mr Bell and Stephanie cry out as I was thrown roughly into the cave, against one of the shelves.

The wind was knocked out of me. A plate of cakes fell by my feet and the world span as I tried to pull myself upright. But before I could clamber back towards the exit, there was a great gust of wind.

“LYDIA!” Stephanie screamed.

Every candle blew out at once. Their smoke flowed out of the cave like the wind had come from behind me, which couldn’t have been possible there was no…

I turned around.

A great black hole stared back at me. A tunnel that appeared from seemingly nowhere.

The mountain began to rumble.

I realised all too late. This wasn’t just a cave…

This was a mouth.

And then I heard her footsteps – felt Stephanie’s arms around me, tasted her tears on my lips as the smoke filled my lungs. Before I could say a word, the ceiling came hurtling towards us, and the world went black.

*

“L-Lydia? Lydia!”

I coughed and spluttered, wiping charcoal away from my mouth.

“Oh thank goodness!” Stephanie sobbed, hugging me tight. “I-I thought you were gone!”

“I-It’s gonna… gonna take a little more than a s-shelf to kill me,” I stammered with a nervous laugh.

I gazed around.

Stephanie had somehow got one of the candles to light again. I reached towards it and clambered to my feet, refusing her aid. The cave was sealed shut. No light nor sound seemed to be getting in or out, and we certainly wouldn’t be either. At least we had all this… food…?

But… it was gone.

In utter awe, I gazed around. Everything, from my bread to the cakes I had knocked to the floor, had turned to ash.

“…What?” I gaped. “H-How…”

“I-I thought we’d turn t-to dust t-too,” Stephanie sobbed, black handprints tarnishing her skirt.

I turned back to her, horror no doubt painted across my face.

“They w-were scared y-you’d tell the d-dragons,” she tried to explain. “They’d execute us if t-they knew!”

“And now we’re going to die,” I realised. Stuck in this cave, no way out… except… “No, no – we can find a way out.”

“W-What?”

I grasped Stephanie’s hand, leading her towards the tunnel at the back of the cave.

“No!” she cried, trying in vain to pull free. “We can’t go down there!”

I whipped around to face her, “Got any better ideas?!”

She fell quiet.

“I didn’t think so.”

And so, we continued on.

“I-I’m so sorry…” Stephanie mumbled pathetically. “I didn’t know they’d–”

“It doesn’t matter now,” I snapped. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Silence befell us. Down the stone dragon’s gullet we marched, slippery and perilous. The ceiling stretched further away, and the tunnel grew wider. Soon enough, the floor fell away all together, descending down, down, into the depths of a giant, underground lake.

We stood and stared at it in silence.

With a sigh, I let go of Stephanie’s hand and lowered myself in.

“What are you doing?” she asked meekly.

“What do you think I’m doing?” I pushed off the wall, following the tunnel as carefully as I could, holding the candle above the water. I left Stephanie behind in the dark, no words between us.

It wasn’t long before I reached a dead end. With a frustrated cry, I paddled around and began my swim back. But the tunnel seemed longer, further. It had been so long since I last swam and keeping the candle above the water felt near-to impossible the longer I went.

“Lydia!” came a distant cry, panicked splashes echoing with it.

“Stephanie?!” I yelled back, ancient stone walls staring back at me, giving me no clue.

I heard her cries become more panicked. There was nothing else for it.

I dropped the candle into the water, plunging myself into darkness, and darting through the water. I pushed off slimy walls whenever they came too close, knowing full well this would be my end, until all of a sudden, I crashed right into a squirming figure, heavy petticoats dragging her down. I wrapped my arms around her and heaved her to the closest wall, hoping there’d be any foothold. By some miracle, a ledge blessed us in the darkness. I pushed my friend to the surface, then finally, I too could catch my breath, lying on the rock, legs still dangling in the water as the two of us breathed in unison.

“What were you thinking?!” I yelled, slapping her side.

“Y-You were g-gone for so l-long,” she explained, feeling for my hand and grasping it tight with both hands. “I thought you’d drowned.”

“This is why I never wear stupid skirts!”

And she laughed. I laughed too.

“I can take care of myself, Steph. I can’t believe you’d dive into a pitch-black cave for me.”

There was a moment of silence, her bell-chime laughter petering off. “…I’d do anything for you.”

“…Except sign up for the bats.”

The quiet was haunting.

I pulled my hand away from her, clambering to my feet on shaky legs. I gazed down at her. She was so little. Yellow light caressed her face, reflected in her deep, brown eyes.

Wait… light?

I turned to my left. There was a new tunnel, a distant light flickered, like a flame.

“Come on.” I pulled Stephanie to her feet, not letting go of her hand as we practically ran from the water. We turned the corner and–

“Cassidy! There you are.”

I skidded to a halt, staring in unadulterated horror.

There, deep underground, stood a tall man leaning on a cane. I knew this man.

“…You!” I exclaimed.

“W-What are you doing here?” Stephanie stammered.

I turned to her in shock, “You know him?!” No, of course she didn’t! How could she?!

“I-I spoke to him this morning…”

My eyes widened, what was going on?!

“M-My name’s not Cassidy,” Stephanie told the man.

He just smiled sadly, “…Yes, I know.”

“Then stop calling us that,” I snapped. “How are you here?!”

He took a deep, solemn breath, “I’m not.”

“What do you mean you’re–” I was interrupted by Stephanie. She put her free hand on my shoulder, shaking my head, urging me to stop and listen. For once, I did as I was told.

“My name is George,” said the strange man. “I suppose… sometimes… I forget.” He hesitated for so long I almost yelled at him to explain. A squeeze from Stephanie’s hand gave me patience. “I died long ago.”

Silence.

“…Come with me,” said George, he turned and began to hobble away, further down the tunnel. Cautiously, we followed.

“Who is Cassidy?” Stephanie braved questioning.

“Cassidy…” the ghost, I suppose, hummed fondly. “She was supposed to be next. But… they took her.”

“Who?” I breathed.

George stopped. He turned and looked at me, right into my very soul. “The dragons – they killed her, they killed them all.” He turned away again, “All… except you.”

My heart hammered against my rib cage. Stephanie and I exchanged worried glances. We pressed on.

“What was Cassidy supposed to be next for?” I asked.

“The dragon.”

“Yes, yes,” I rolled my eyes, “The dragons killed her and probably for a good reason–”

George turned a corner, laughing. “No, the dragon.”

It was a chamber. Bright and brilliant. Crystals decorated the walls. Flames danced in reflections of the water that sat still and beautiful in a moat around a tiny island. And upon that island… there it was. A great, glowing egg, a luminous, floating ball of fire – a beating heart.

“The dragon spirit,” Stephanie breathed.

I let go of her hand and stepped to George’s side, entranced.

“There is a fire in your eyes,” the crippled man told me. “It burns in the pit of your very soul. In that fire, the dragon spirit may be lit once more.”

And suddenly I knew – I knew it all. The reason my eyes bore this great amber glow – the reason I was cast aside by all I had ever loved – the reason I was here.

I wasn’t just to be one of the dragons. No, I would be the greatest dragon of them all.

“I was the last dragon spirit,” George explained, picking up his cane like it no longer mattered at all. “And I failed. The dragons stole my name, they stole the fire in the hearts of this town. The empire will stop at nothing to ensure it never burns again. But you can change that.”

“I will,” I breathed, unable to take my eyes off it, the dragon spirit. The empire would know my name. Under their reign I would bring this lonely town back from the depths of despair – would bring true meaning to the name of the dragons!

This is my destiny – this is my story. The story of how I found the bravery to take my place. The story of how I became–

“No.”

…What?

George looked at me with disgust, and then with the end of his cane, pointed away from me. “She will.”

He pointed at Stephanie.

Little, meek Stephanie.

The mouse.

The dragon.

“But…” I stammered, “But this is my story!”

“No, it’s not,” said George, stepping into the water and wading towards the egg.

“THIS IS MY STORY!” I cried.

Stephanie tried to step past me. I grabbed her wrist, “What are you doing?!”

“L-Lydia…” she murmured. “Maybe it’s… It’s simply the way it has to be.”

“How dare you?” I wept. “This is my story and I get to choose where it goes!”

Stephanie wrenched her hand away from me, “You don’t understand! You never have! You look at the things the dragons do, and you look away! There’s a reason we’re forced onto the streets once a year, forced to pay taxes, to give up our food–”

“You gave up your food!”

“You don’t understand!”

“Neither do you!” I yelled, tears streaming down my face, “You have everything! A family that cares about you, enough money for a freaking violin! I have nothing! And you’re gonna take this away from me too?!”

“Lydia a-are you… are you jealous of… of me?”

“I have had to fight, every stinking day of my life to be ANYTHING! And you’ve just been this adored little mouse the second you were born! No one cares about me – no one’s ever gonna care about me. I was supposed to be the dragon! I was supposed to be the best! There’s no fire in your eyes! There’s nothing! You’re… you’re…”

“You’re my best friend,” Stephanie said, taking my hands. “You’re… you’re more than that. Lydia you’re everything to me. We… we can do this together.”

I stared at her. And for a moment, I saw it. The fire in her eyes. A bravery I had been too blind to see.

I ripped my hands away, “No. George, let me out of here.”

The spirit – whatever he was – waved his hand.

Behind us, where the entrance to the chamber had once been, the cool breeze of the night flooded in.

“Don’t leave me!” Stephanie called after me.

By the exit, I hesitated.

I wiped away my tears with my sodden sleeve, turning back to her.

“Go take your stupid spirit. Go take your stupid town! But I’m going to the wolves. And one day, I’ll come back with a bigger fire in my soul then you’ll ever hope to light! I’m going to be the best. This is my story!”

Stephanie just stared at me, haloed against the fire.

“This is my story,” I lied to myself.

It never had been.