Notes from An Alien

~ Explorations In Reading, Writing & Publishing ~

Tag Archives: Drake

Friday Fantasy ~ Number Twenty-Five

Fable of The Distracted Dragon

~ He wasn’t sure what the trouble was.

Fable of The Distracted Dragon

Image courtesy of daniele vinaccia ~

He’d ruled this part of the coast for a thousand years.

The humans did what he said—until a few days ago

He also thought his fire-breath was starting to cool down.


He was direct in his actions.

He’d been evoked a few days ago by the local wizard.

He was here to protect the humans and he was invisible.

His mission wasn’t to kill—merely chase the dragon away


His search for the cause of his woes seemed in vain.

He became morose.

He circled on the scent for hours but could see nothing.


He enjoyed his conjured life, short as it was to be.

His memories were all borrowed from the humans so he could appreciate the humor of a dragon flying in hopeless circles and puffing uselessly against the wind.

He moved in for the coup de grâce


He left the plain and flew over the forest toward the mountain.


He followed the dragon to the mountain and caused a horrible rock-fall, pelting the dragon with boulders and uprooted trees.


He couldn’t enter his lair—he lay confused and weary at the blocked entrance to his treasured magic gems.


He used his borrowed mind to determine his job was done and vanished.


He circled the mountain for months, fearing to join his clan.

He imagined he was the first dragon to be driven insane.

He finally took the long flight—returned whence he came


And so ends the Fable of The Distracted Dragon.

Except to say, there is a moral to this story:

When you’re dealing with a debilitating myth, use your evocative imagination

Copyright, 2014, Alexander M Zoltai
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Friday Fantasy ~ Number Twenty-One

The Satyr’s Dream

~ Wurembla had only made the appointment because he had to—he hated dragons.


Image, reproduced unaltered, by permission of Araniart ~ ~ in accord with CC 3.0 ~

He ambled along the path, past the hillock with the twisted tree, and stopped at the large, flat rock next to the stagnant pond.

He waited

The sun was near the horizon when the animal appeared, high in the sky and swooping in long arcs, ever-lower.

It landed lightly on the rock, raising a cloud of dust, and hissed out, “Satyr of legend, I am Vexus, your servant.”

Wurembla looked the beast over from snout to tail and replied, “Yes, my venerable dragon, you have an ability that can be of great service to us both.”

“I am not a dragon. That could well be taken as an insult, Sir. I am a drake.”

“Drake or dragon, my friend, you have what I lack and I offer what you could never attain unaided

“The message said you wish an Appeal written in the language of the humans, since you lack the art of composition

“No mere appeal, damn drake, a Summons!”

“My hairy associate, you may summon all you like but, without the proper mode of appeal, your desire can never be fulfilled

“Oh, most shady wordsmith, I don’t give a spurt what it’s called. There is a particular human female I must possess and it is rumored you can write a sorcery that will bind her to me—can you?

“I can.”

“She has the treasure you seek and you shall have it as soon as I have her


The satyr and the drake consulted. The satyr speaking his wishes, the drake instructing him in the proper strokes to be applied to the parchment.


Many miles away, the beauteous princess was kneeling at the seashore in deep conversation with one of the merfolk:

“Yes My father’s magician has determined the plot—my capture by Wurembla

“Why would you let him capture you?”

“The magician foresees the satyr petitioning my father for an audience with me He can not refuse to offer it—the satyrs threaten attack on our villagers I must see Wurembla and the magician says he will have an Appeal to entrance me

“And, my dear, you want me to do?

“Steal the Appeal.”

“Just like that

“I shall admit Wurembla to my chambers. You shall be in my bath—”

“Wait. Your bath!?”

“This is not good?”

“I need the beast on the shore—I must have room to leap and grab, my dear.”

“On the shore


Word had been received from the princess. She would meet the satyr.

Vexus took up his position on the mountainside, waiting for Wurembla to gain control of the woman and, hence, her fortune—all the jewels going to the drake

Wurembla stood on the shore of the sea, leering as the princess approached—his loins growing warm—his thoughts swirling in a dream-world

The princess reached the satyr and asked, with a quaver:

“What do wish to say to me, Wurembla?”

“Me? Say? Nothing, dear wench, read!”

He thrust the scroll at her.

She stood frozen.

The merman leapt.

The boy lurched back to consciousness, joystick in hand, and said:

“Damn! Almost had her

Copyright, 2014, Alexander M Zoltai
Read More Friday Fantasy

To Leave A Comment, Use The Link At The Top-Right of The Post :-)
For Private Comments, Email: amzolt {at} gmail {dot} com
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GRAB A FREE COPY of Notes from An Alien

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