Here Stn George met his Dragon

IN THE EARLY LIGHT of the morning, Steven George rose from the arms of his lover and faced the mountain. The wind had sprung up in the night and tugged at his hat. He took it from his head. A sheepskin, duck feathers, a snakeskin, a chicken bone, and two talismans. It was ridiculous. What could he have been thinking to make such fantastical stories about this hat?

Something else had changed as well. Steven George no longer wished to slay a dragon. Still, the path lay directly before him, up the side of the smoking mountain. Neither the donkey nor the gypsy stirred as Steven started up the path. He carried nothing with him but his hat. The path wound as it rose from the desert floor and soon, Steven George was looking out across a marshy land where in the distance there ran a ribbon of water. On the far side of the water lay a village where people lived peaceful, happy lives because they were free of the fear of the dragon. Steven looked out across the distance and realized that he no longer wished to return to his home.

“I have found what I came to find!” he shouted across the valley. “I have taken the dragon to my heart and you are safe. There is no more need for a dragonslayer.” Then he flung the hat away from him into the morning breeze.

The winds caught the hat and it ascended. High on the mountain he could see it silhouetted against the glow of fire. Higher still it soared until it was only a speck and then nothing at all. He returned down the mountain path to Selah where she lay and she welcomed him back into her arms.

“Here is where I belong,” said Steven. “And whether to a mountain, or to a desert, to an ocean or to a city, I will walk the endless road with you, my love.”

She smoothed his hair.

“Where is your hat?”

“What need have I of a hat if I have already found my dragon?” he said. Then he pointed back toward the mountain where he had flung it and the wind had carried it.

There was a distant rumbling of thunder that grew until the ground around them shook. Then the mountain exploded and fire, ash, and rubble shot into the sky. The dust rained down around them as the wind knocked them from their feet.

When the shockwaves subsided, Steven, Selah, and Xandros picked themselves up and gazed at the remains of the mountain. The blast and the prevailing wind were carrying the debris north, out over the desert. As the dust blew away the ragged tooth of the mountain still smoked, but it seemed the smoke of dying embers.

Steven wrapped his arms around Selah and they embraced.

“I’m glad we got down to this side of the mountain before that happened,” Selah said. “Shall we continue?”

“It’s a long road,” Steven said. “I’m glad I am travelling it with you, Madame Selah Walinska. Or should I call you Siranith?” he smiled at her.

“Why would you do that?” she asked. “Who is Siranith?”

They hitched Xandros to the cart and walked off into the south.

TIME IS AN ENDLESS ROAD, and all paths lead to our dragons. Once upon a time, a storyteller walked with his beloved, whom he teasingly called The Dragon Lady. She called him Dragonslayer and her green eyes flashed at him. But when he looked into their depths, he saw only the peace and love that consoled his deepest longings.

If you, too, should travel this path, you might find a small marker near an extinct volcano next to the Endless Road. Scratched in rude letters on the stone are the words:

Here Stn George Met His Dragon