The Tempest

Jeremy looked back as the storm roared, and a gust of wind smacked him in the face. As he stepped towards the rock-face ledge, he slipped and fell backwards, and was peppered with icy raindrops. Thunder crackled overhead, laughing at his splayed figure. Indignant, he clambered back upright, and stretched out his wings to shake the water off.

See, he thought, this damp is exactly why I’m leaving. Atrocious, no place for a dragon.

He felt a deep rumble beginning to resonate through the air, and knew he had only moments. He turned back to the ledge, which was starting to shake, and slashed an opening in the air with his talon. Then, snout, claw, wing, and tail, he carefully squeezed himself through the glowing portal.

***

The other side was much warmer. Jeremy quickly turned around and used his talons to crimp the edges of the opening together, sealing the storm away. He sat back and took in his new surroundings, pleasantly surprised. He was in a forest.

Jeremy was starting to get hungry. He started padding through the loam and leaves, following the smell of livestock. Exiting the trees, he spotted a farm with herds of cows and sheep, unattended. It was easy - he launched himself up, swooped down, and easily plucked out a cow and a goat, and snagged a chicken for good measure. None of the creatures seemed familiar with dragons, and didn’t even have the good sense to run.

Jeremy, his arms full of baying animals, could hardly be ignored by the rest of the village.

The farmer, George, emerged from his house, pitchfork in hand, expecting a fox in the chickens again. As he caught sight of the dragon, he froze. Prickles of dread crept through him.

George turned tail and ran into the village proper, all thoughts of his cows forgotten. He had to find Father John. If it was truly a dragon, they needed to act at once, or they would all be lost to evil.

***

The group of village elders sat in a circle at the council meeting, silently. Father John looked ghastly. Sister Bethany finally stood up, and said, “Well, we know the ritual: the sacred blood of a lamb, on the night of a full moon, to cast out evil. It must be done. We cannot forget the last time such demons defiled our country. The fires, the plagues, the wars... It must be prevented. Nipped in the bud.”

She looked down at Father John, who would not meet her eyes. Then she swept her eyes around the circle, and spoke again.

“The pure blood of a lamb - but it must be a child. An orphan child. The magnitude of this beast requires a greater magnitude of sacrifice. Our Lord sacrificed himself for humanity; this lamb will have the honor of performing a similar sacrifice. And in its innocence, the child’s salvation will be guaranteed.”

***

Jeremy was taking a nap. He was full, warm, and had found a nice cave situated in the forest. Groggily, he heard little crunching footsteps making their way through the autumn leaves toward his lair. Jeremy poked his head out, and almost knocked his face into a toddler, who was closer than he realized. He recoiled, but the boy was startled, and fell backwards on his bottom. Startled, the boy started to cry.

Dismayed, Jeremy reached out and tried to pat him on the back with the blunt backside of his talons.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he said, “I’m sorry if I scared you. There, there.”

Jeremy looked around, and picked up one of his shedded scales from the floor.

“Here, look at this! A shiny toy!”

The boy hiccupped, and gradually quieted. He took the proffered green scale with both hands, and turned it around and around, admiring its reflectiveness. A smile slowly spread across his cheeks as he gripped it and waved it around. He raised it up with one hand, as if to show off his strength, and beamed at Jeremy. Jeremy couldn’t help but smile.

He looked at the toddler, puzzled. The boy was black-haired and pale, not older than two years old. It was obvious that the villagers expected him to eat this boy. As a matter of principle, he didn’t hunt humans - they were not very tasty and far more trouble than they were worth.

“What is your name, child?” Jeremy asked.

“Conrad,” the boy said, proud to know the answer to the question. “What you name?”

“Oh -” Jeremy was taken aback. “My name is Jeremy.”

“Jem!”

“Jer-eh-mee.”

“Jem!”

“Ah - OK, yes - Jem.”

Jeremy watched Conrad play gleefully with the scale.

Perhaps if the villagers saw how happy the child was with him, they would realize that Jeremy was harmless. He made up his mind: he would take Conrad back to the village.

“Conrad, let’s go for a ride. Have you ever wanted to fly?”

***

A shadow fell over the village as the dragon swooped low. The villagers saw Jeremy descend with Conrad in his clutches, and there was an immediate panic.

Jeremy sighed at the hysterics, but continued to the gates of the village, and landed gracefully. He gently set Conrad down on the cobbled road, and nudged him forward to walk back inside. Conrad turned toward Jem and cracked a wide smile at him, then hugged his foreleg before toddling toward the gates. As soon as Conrad left Jeremy's side, men from the village streamed out angrily, torches ablaze, and Jeremy took off, retreating to the forest.

As soon as Conrad passed inside, he was unceremoniously snatched up by Sister Bethany, who had been perched watchfully behind the gate. She wrapped him in a linen bundle, and rushed him to the church. Father John would need to purify him immediately.

“He’s alive!” Father John was shocked. “What’s that he’s holding?”

He prised open Conrad’s fingers to discover the gleaming green dragon scale. Father John froze in awe. This was surely an omen. For this child to come back, unscathed, with such a token, and personally escorted by the beast - he must be marked by some spiritual power. Conrad smiled up at the priest, happy that Father John appreciated the beauty of his toy as well.

Father John strode back to Sister Bethany, and related to her this revelation. He instructed her to place Conrad in the care of a barren noble family - the Hoghtons. They had always been loyal servants of the Church, and would instruct Conrad properly in the ways of protection, purification, and religious procedure. Conrad was chosen. He would be a dragon-tamer.

***

Jeremy sat in his cave in the woods, and thought about leaving. It would be hard to get settled into another new world again, but this was starting to get messy. He thought of Conrad’s endearing laugh and joyfulness, and despite himself, he smiled. Jeremy was ages-old, but he’d never had children. Maybe this could be his opportunity to watch and support a child, albeit a human one.

He’d give it a try.

***

Fifteen years passed. Every month, on the new moon, Conrad would accompany a group of villagers into the forest. He wore the dragon’s scale as a talisman of power and protection against the dragon. With Conrad’s company, the villagers knew they could safely traverse the woods to gather herbs, send messengers, and visit holy sites.

When Conrad was younger, a priest would guide him to the dragon’s cave, and Conrad would enter the darkness, alone, to subdue the creature as only he knew how. In adolescence, he went alone. And now that Conrad was approaching manhood, the priests began to remind him of his sacred duty - he would soon be required to end the demon, for good. They knew that he held the key to the village's peace and, ultimately, their salvation.

What they didn’t know, however, was that each month, Conrad was having the time of his life in that cave with Jeremy.

***

"Okay, okay, my turn!" Conrad insisted. "I always play Mephistophilis, I'm tired of being the bad guy. I want a shot at being Faustus."

"Well, I suppose you could do with a few more books of knowledge," Jem remarked, "Although I'm not sure that any would help you conjure up more common sense."

Conrad rolled his eyes. Jem's eyes twinkled, teasingly.

Jeremy was old and wise, but also playful and witty. As Conrad learned how to read and write, he would share his opinions of texts with the dragon, and they would act out stories together. Everyman was their first play - the priests had hammered that one into Conrad pretty early on. But later, he discovered the joys of Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, and they had had a riotous time taking turns playing each character. Most recently, Conrad had seen a showing of Doctor Faustus in a traveling troupe, and was eager to practice that one with Jem too.

"Isn't it slightly blasphemous that your priests think you are here, fulfilling a holy purification, and instead the two of us are acting out a deal between a devil and a sorcerer?"

Conrad chuckled lightly, but the question weighed on him.

"Of course, Jem. But you and I both know that all of that isn't real. Besides, if they found us, the play would be the least of their worries. It'd be way worse for them to discover that you are peaceful of your own free will, and not by my subjugation."

Conrad looked at Jeremy gravely. "After all, what would their rituals be worth - and what would I be to them - if I wasn't actually a dragon-tamer?"

Conrad lowered his head, and fingered the green scale Jeremy had given him all those years ago. It hung around his neck, attached to a braided leather cord. "I wish we could come clean, but we've come too far now. My parents, my whole town would shun me - or worse - if we revealed their beliefs to be a lie."

He looked up at Jeremy, and smiled wistfully. "And it's thanks to you that I have the life I have now. I would still be an orphan with no prospects, no family, and no friends if you hadn't stayed here for me. So, I'm up for any and all sacrilege, as long as we can do it together."

Jeremy peered at Conrad affectionately. "There was no chance that I would have left you to these barbarians. Someone had to protect you from them."

"Well, I'm able to protect myself now, don't worry." Conrad chuckled. "I'll be eighteen tomorrow. Hardly a child anymore."

"Speaking of which - don't you have a birthday celebration to attend? You should hop to it if you don't want to miss the hunt," Jeremy reminded him.

"Yes, yes, you're right. Well, thanks for letting me be Faustus for my birthday." Conrad smiled. "I'll have all my lines memorized for when I'm back next month."

"Of course. Enjoy the hunt. And Conrad - happy birthday."

***

That afternoon, Conrad walked alongside a group of young men. They led their horses across the field on Hoghton Hill, hounds trotting at their feet.

“Are you boys ready to hunt?” called Father Tom Hoghton, who led the way.

“Yes, Uncle. I think the question is if you are ready!” Conrad teased. "How about a nice boar for a birthday feast?"

As they walked towards the forest, Conrad’s horse stumbled - it had thrown a shoe. Exasperated, Conrad waved them on to continue the hunt without him, and resigned himself to taking his horse back to the house.

As he neared the stables, an unfamiliar blond man emerged, covered in hay. He gestured to Conrad to bring the horse over.

“I’m Billy - Billy Arden,” he introduced himself. “New stableboy here. Just come up from Warwick. Hand him over, I’ll take care of his shoe. What a naughty boy, causing trouble right before the hunt." Billy grinned cheekily. "And I heard it was for a birthday, too. What’s your name?”

“Conrad." He felt oddly self-conscious. "That's all right, maybe Barnaby sensed something was off. Perhaps he's just saved me from an Adonis’ death. I wouldn’t fancy being gored by a boar.”

“Oh, do you like classics?” Billy inquired.

“Yes, my parents have a large collection of classical texts,” Conrad replied, trying to focus on his words, and not on Billy's lively green eyes. “They’re quite invested in literature and mythology.”

“Ah, lucky! My parents were booksellers. I do enjoy a bit of Ovid, myself.”

“Well, you’re welcome to visit our library anytime, if you ever miss being around books. Actually, this is our family's estate.” Conrad gestured at the buildings sheepishly.

“No kidding! Then I should be wishing you a happy birthday, I take it?" Billy asked.

They made eye contact, and Conrad nodded without knowing what he was doing. His legs felt like they had turned to jelly. Billy smiled. "Well, happy birthday, young sir. And I might take you up on that, you know. It gets mighty boring talking to horses all day.”

At that moment, they heard raucous hoots and yells echoing from the town square. Though it sounded like a celebration, Conrad felt uneasy. Conrad and Billy looked at each other, then wordlessly tied up Barnaby and hurried to see what the commotion was about.

Apparently, a group of drunken village soldiers had decided to ambush Jeremy in the forest. “The dragon was too feeble to fight back!” Garrett jeered.

Oh Jem, Conrad sighed inwardly, ever the pacifist.

“He flew off like a coward,” Garrett laughed. “Conrad did a great job of taming it. We just needed to remind the beast who’s in control. You can never let it question man’s dominance!” The other men roared in agreement.

Conrad had to control his expression. He pasted a false smile on his face and gave stilted words of gratitude. At the first opportunity, he excused himself from Billy and the men, and rushed off to the woods.

***

Clambering into the cave, Conrad found Jem curled up in the back, snoozing.

“Don’t worry," He yawned. "Those measly boys didn’t do much damage. Just a few scratches and loosened scales,” Jeremy reassured him.

But Conrad couldn’t bear it. This was wrong.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jem. Everything is a lie. I don’t want to be known for being an oppressor. And you’re getting hurt now, this is no longer just pretend.”

“But what do you propose we do? You said yourself that you can't give it up, the church would destroy you. You know they intend for you to kill me. We already agreed that I would go to the Hebrides when that time came, and I am very much looking forward to my seaside retirement from acting. I have no issue with waiting until then. They probably wouldn’t force you to face me for another few years, at least.”

“No," Conrad insisted. "Even if you were to disappear, they would still believe me to be this ‘dragon-tamer’." Conrad spat disparagingly. "I hate being called that, it’s all a farce. You and I both know those rituals are a bunch of hogwash, but they would expect me to continue Spiritual Defense for the rest of my life. I would never be free to even visit you up there. I could never have my own life, my own family, children…” Conrad’s thoughts strayed to Billy’s rugged, golden face. He shook himself.

Jeremy looked at Conrad, considering him. “You have matured. Of course I wouldn’t deny you your autonomy by staying here. But, you know that this means we will have to part ways, and soon.”

Conrad met his gaze. “Yes, I know," he said steadily. "It will be awful to leave you, Jem, but I’m ready. And you deserve your freedom too.”

“Well then, how about we put on a show? A real tempest. What I propose is this…”

***

A few weeks later, Conrad stood in the main square of the village, chatting nonchalantly with Billy. They had gotten quite close over readings of The Metamorphoses, and in taking Barnaby out for rides.

“Big thanks to your dad for getting me this new job, by the way.” Billy’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “Who would have thought they’d let a stableboy teach reading at a school? Although, I suppose there isn’t much difference between unruly horses and young boys in a classroom.”

“Of course! He had a vacancy, and you were obviously the best choice. No one else in Lancashire has as much knowledge of the classics as you do.”

Conrad made to pat Billy on the arm, but then changed his mind mid-swing, and awkwardly inserted his hand into his coat pocket. Billy didn't seem to notice anything.

“Ah, thanks." Billy looked pleased. "You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve started -”

At that moment, thunder cracked ominously across the sky. Wind suddenly screamed through the gates, and fat droplets of rain struck the cobblestones. A sinister shadow fell over the village, as a great green dragon circled overhead. Jeremy let out a breath of blue flame with an almighty roar, which shook the church’s bell tower and left tolling reverberations. Billy gasped and stumbled backwards. Villagers started swarming out of buildings into the streets, and the town patrol’s soldiers began to assemble and bark orders.

“HUMANS,” Jeremy’s voice boomed over the crowds. “You dare invade my lair, attack me, and attempt to humiliate me? You think that I had forgotten, forgiven?" Jeremy cackled. "You think, because you have the protection of the Dragon-Man, that it is right and honorable to oppress one who is weaker? ” He circled slowly, purposefully, and began to descend toward the square. “You thought wrong.”

Jeremy landed genteelly onto the paved stones. “What would you do, if your Dragon-Man was powerless against me? If he didn’t have his talisman? Who would be in command then?”

His gaze was austere as he turned to pace around, looking at each villager directly.

“I seek the one you call Dragon-Tamer!”

The crowd shifted, agitated. Billy was nowhere to be seen.

Conrad stepped forward toward Jeremy. “Everyone, stay back!” he called, “ I understand this beast, I have been trained for such encounters.” They began to circle each other. Rain started to fall in earnest.

“Your time has come, little one. Fifteen years, you have entrapped me - now, it is my time to be free!” At this last word, Jeremy pounced at Conrad, swiping one sharp claw at Conrad's throat, and pinning his body to the ground with the other. Wind howled all around them. The dragon scale talisman, severed from its leather cord, clattered onto the damp cobblestones, glinting like a dark leaf on the surface of the sea.

Conrad let himself fall, and Jeremy surreptitiously wrapped his hand around the back of Conrad’s head, cushioning the impact. Still holding Conrad down with one hand, Jeremy picked up the talisman and jeered at the crowd:

“Your defender is finished! All your efforts to purify and contain me were ultimately futile. I have been biding my time, waiting to overpower you fools. Now that I have regained the entirety of my power, there is nothing to stop me from expanding my dominion of darkness…”

He turned back to Conrad, and winked. This was the part where they would pretend to fight, so that Conrad could maintain his dignity, having faced the dragon on his own strength. Since Conrad would have to 'lose' his powers, at least the villagers would know he was still on their side by fighting back and resisting the beast.

Jeremy lifted his claw to mimic a first strike. Thunder crashed nearby, shaking the ground.

“No!” Billy came charging out of the Armory, brandishing a spear, which he thrust at Jeremy’s side. “You will not touch Conrad, beast!”

Surprised, Jeremy reared up. He extended his full wingspan, knocking Billy aside.

“Come not between the Dragon and his wrath!” Jeremy bellowed, annoyed.

He loomed over Billy, sitting disoriented on the wet cobblestones, and blew a harmless blue flame at him. Billy, seeing the oncoming fire, keeled over and fainted.

Jeremy turned away from the two boys, who lay sopping wet on the ground, and raised a claw, ripping open a portal right there in the square. Time for a change of scenery, he thought, and slunk menacingly through the hole, committed to character till the very last second. The gap closed, and the town was suddenly quiet.

Then everything exploded, and the villagers converged on Conrad and Billy.

***

Conrad sat on the ground, hammering two pieces of wood together to build a piece of scaffolding for the stage. It had been six months since Jeremy left. Everything was different now.

Without his “powers”, the church had politely and efficiently removed Conrad's title of Spiritual Defender, and encouraged him to seek regular employment. Luckily, his adoptive father, Sir Alexander Hoghton, was headmaster at a local school. Keen to encourage Conrad in his passion for the stage, he had helped Conrad build a theater for the school, and gave him work as a stage production manager for student productions.

His mother kept encouraging him to apply to Oxford or Cambridge to study literature, but they were both so far away from everyone he knew: family, students, friends… and Billy.

Just as Conrad thought of his name, Billy entered the room. Conrad started, and dropped his hammer. Billy jogged over to him, picked up the hammer, and handed it back to Conrad.

“Careful with that, you need all ten fingers and toes.”

Conrad laughed, then flushed.

Stop it! He thought furiously to himself. Don't act so strange around him.

Billy sat down next to him. “So, I’ve been meaning to talk to you," he said. "I tried telling you before, but then that dragon attacked us, and I never got a chance.”

"Ok," Conrad looked at him expectantly.

Billy looked away, and fidgeted a little. “Don’t laugh! But… I’ve started writing.” He peeked at Conrad to see his reaction. “I wrote a poem. About Adonis and Aphrodite, like Ovid did.”

“Billy, that’s great!" Conrad said enthusiastically. "You’re a natural writer, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“I want to write plays though. I don’t think there’s much market for poems right now.”

“Well, that’s all right too! I can help you with the plays, you know how much I admire Marlowe. And I’m here doing stagecraft every day.”

“That’s the other thing I wanted to tell you. Or rather, ask you.” He glanced at Conrad again; this time, Billy was the one blushing.

“I’m moving to London.”

Conrad’s heart felt like it had dropped through his stomach. He couldn't speak. He thought he might have forgotten how to breathe.

“But, I wanted to ask - if you would come with me?”

Billy was as red as a beetroot now, but he forced himself to turn and look Conrad meaningfully in the eyes. He reached over and tentatively took Conrad's hand in his own.

Conrad now felt like he had ten times the amount of air in his body and was suddenly lightheaded, disbelief and joy coursing through him in equal measure.

“With you… to London?” Conrad's hand felt numb and on fire at the same time.

“Only… Only if you want to. I know it’s a lot to ask you to leave your work and family here. But there are so many reputable theaters in the city, and with your connections, I’m sure you could work anywhere you wanted.”

“Billy - of course I’ll go with you!” Conrad squeezed Billy's hand in return, then hugged him tightly. Releasing him, they looked at each other contentedly, a warmth filling each of their chests.

Billy sighed happily. “Just imagine it - the two of us in theater, unstoppable."

"I already have a pen name too," he continued. "You know what the villagers are calling me now, after I stabbed that dragon?"

"What?" Conrad humored him.

"Mister ‘Shake-spear’! Hah!" He chortled. "Dramatic, right? Perfect for the stage.”

“Sir William Shakespeare… It does have a nice ring to it,” Conrad agreed lightheartedly.

Conrad pulled Billy's hand close to his chest. "You have to promise me one thing though," Conrad said to him earnestly.

"Anything," Billy beamed at him.

"Before London, we have to go to the Outer Hebrides for a holiday. There's someone I'd like you to meet."

***