Quiet Embers

“To the east,” the man had said. “You’ll find what you seek to the east.”

I walked alone. I always did. It’s not that I hated people. I got along well enough with people when I wanted to do so. But I found human relationships… unpredictable, I suppose is a word one could use. I liked things nice and tidy.

It was a brisk day on which I had set out on a short journey, as I had done so many times in the past. There was a chilly breeze flowing through the air. It was still mid-autumn, but Jack Frost had already begun nipping at my nose prematurely. Leaves fluttered along the grassy fields on either side of the dusty road and I huddled in closer against myself, pulling my cloak tightly against my body. A stray leaf blew against my face, causing me to sputter and lose my concentration momentarily as I swatted it away, much as one might do to a bothersome insect. I shook my head and carried on.

A standard job, I initially gauged it as. I didn’t think much of it at the time when I received it. My mind was largely blank as I walked along the road away from the town. I had heard the town mayor’s story so many times in the past that I didn’t even have to pay attention as he spoke. I could have filled in the details myself to save him the trouble of having to tell me something I already knew. But I never did. I preferred to leave that task to the person making the request. This seemed to make them feel important, even if they actually weren’t. …No offense to the people I’ve done jobs for in the past.

I always found people so funny in that way, to tell the truth. Human interaction had always been fairly alien to me. There were so many peculiarities to sift through. Over time I grew more accustomed to these sorts of things to the point where I accepted and accommodated them. But that doesn’t mean that I had grown to understand them. I likely never will. I’m not registering a complaint against humans or human society. It’s just an observation that I feel compelled to make, much as when one discovers a spelling error on an official document.

As I walked down the road, my mind drifted to my pocket, where I placed the note the mayor had given me. Having nothing better to do, I rustled around in the pocket for a brief period before fishing out the note. It contained all of the information I needed to know for the job I had taken.

“Find a signpost east of the town,” the note explained. “Should be a fair walk away. Happened around there.” I looked up and took a brief survey of my surroundings before continuing to read. “Take care of the problem. Reward upon proof of kill.”

I nodded quietly to myself and stashed away the note, and then I stopped walking for a brief moment. I found roads like these to be very boring, and every now and then a break was in order – especially when the destination was a fair ways away. As I stood there, I turned around to remind myself of my surroundings. On both sides of the road were sprawling grassy fields, and at the far end of each side was a mountain range. On the left side of the road, the grassy field extended all the way to the mountain range, whereas on the right side of the road, there was a forested area a short way off the road that hid an observer’s view of the base of the mountains.

I softly digested what I saw before beginning to walk again. By this time, the breeze had died down slightly. It was no longer bitter and piercing, and I no longer found myself tasting my own hair whenever it changed direction, which gave me great relief. I found myself subconsciously glancing up towards the sky. It was midday, and the sun was high in the sky. The sapphire sky was speckled with a sparse few grey imperfections, but was nonetheless a brilliant jewel to behold, hovering eternally above the earth below.

Suddenly, I heard the faintest sound in front of me. As I peered forward, I could make out figures in the distance. As my mind worked, it became evident that I was listening to an imperceptible conversation between two of the figures. I watched them as they came closer. They seemed to be a family of three, and they looked jolly and happy – exactly the type of person I hate coming across when I’m alone. I sighed and kept my head bowed as I walked closer. While I drew nearer to the three, the parents of the lone child by their side seemed engaged in idle chatter. A hope welled within my heart that they would not attempt to make conversation after all. I was sorely mistaken.

“Hi!” blurted out the child in my direction. I looked up as our paths crossed and gazed at the child. He looked no older than ten, and there was an infectious smile on his face. At least, it would have been infectious to most anyone else.

“…Hmph,” came my only response. I turned up my head and looked away, and walked past the family silently. I never did see either the child’s reaction or the reaction of his parents, if they happened to notice what had transpired. I wondered about what they might have thought of me. Their natural reaction probably would be to assume arrogance or self-centeredness about me. I could not say whether that description would be entirely accurate. But one thing I could certainly say is that I preferred that simple explanation to the real truth.

The three slowly faded into the distance, and as they did, so too did the sound of their conversation. I breathed a sigh of relief at the silence that reigned over my ears. The only sound left was the breeze, and I welcomed it gladly. It meant that I was alone once again. The wind was my friend. It didn’t remind me of anything. It didn’t make me think of anything I didn’t want to think of. It was simply there, as it always has been, and as it always will be.

“Mom…? Dad? What’s going on?”

My mind had already been activated by the group of people. I hated this feeling that washed over me when this happened. It had occurred so often that one might have expected me to be used to it by now. But that acclimatization never came about. Every time my brain was triggered like this, it was as if it was the first time. There was nothing for it. I simply had to let it pass.

“C’mon… wake up.”

I suppose it was a slight lie when I said that I didn’t hate people. I didn’t hate most people. But there was one single group of people that I did hate: children. To say so is not to blame children for anything, however. They are, as they are rightly set out to be, innocent. I didn’t hate them for who they are or for what they do. Rather, I hated them for what they reminded me of. …Me.

I shook my head and sighed again, and continued walking down the road. A flock of birds swiftly covered the span of the sky above as they moved south across the fields. The sound of their wings and calls drowned out any other quiet noises that might have otherwise dominated the midday air: the sound of the wind or the sound of my footsteps. But I was not angry at them for this sudden disturbance. They, like the wind, were my friends.

I slay dragons. This is not a confession; this is merely a profession of my employment. For those insane enough to attempt such a thing, it can be quite a lucrative business. There’s good money to be made in dragon’s scales, as they’re one of the hardest substances known to mankind, which makes them very useful. Those who use such resources are always in need of someone to provide them. But I’m not in it for the money. No, I have my own reasons to pursue this career. I would not say I enjoy it. It would be closer to the truth to say that I feel obligated.

I clutched my cloak tighter as the wind picked up. I realized that I had momentarily lost track of how far I had been walking. I spun around in an attempt to see any signs of the signpost that I was to look for. Nothing showed up, however – the road simply continued on as far as the eye could see in both directions. Suddenly I had a sharp worry in my heart that I might have passed it along the way, but I quickly discarded this idea. The note had described it as “a fair walk away”. In retrospect, I wished that I had clarified exactly what that meant, since different people have different impressions of what “a fair walk” was. But the distance I had covered is not one I would have described as “a fair walk away”, so I simply hoped that the man who had written the note had a similar definition of the phrase. I gave one last good look back down the path that I had already trodden, and then turned around and continued walking.

As I walked, I silently watched leaves as they ambled their way across the grass. They fluttered along on their merry way, completely oblivious to everything around them. I envied them. They led such simple, unobtrusive lives, never bothering or hurting anyone else in any meaningful way. There was a quiet innocence to them that I could only wish other things in life possessed. Was I displaying the first signs of insanity by ascribing such things to inanimate leaves that were simply being blown around by the wind? I didn’t care. I could suffer through such insanity. It kept me sane.

I covered my brow with a hand as I looked up toward the sun. By my estimation, it was about one o’clock in the afternoon. I had left the town at noon. It surprised me somewhat to realize how long I had been walking; I must have lost track of time somewhere along the way. Walking along a road such as this can have that effect. The road was very straight and very boring, making it difficult to touch base with reality often enough to remember how long one has been walking.

I looked down the road and still saw no signpost in sight, so I decided it was time to break for lunch. I had brought along a satchel with some fruit for just this occasion. I rarely ate much for lunch. I suppose that it might have been better to have heartier lunches to give me more energy, but on the other hand, I didn’t particularly fancy the prospect of carrying a large lunch around. I could always eat later, anyway.

I walked off the right side of the road and across the grass towards the woods. I didn’t go very far into them; I was interested in solitude, not a full-on expedition. Once I was far enough past the tree line, I sat down under a tree and fetched an apple from the satchel. As my teeth pierced its skin, a small stream of juice dripped down my chin. I wiped it off with my hand, and then lay back against the tree, relaxing as the piece of apple was rent within my mouth, spilling its sweetness upon the taste buds of my tongue. I savored the taste for a short while before taking another bite.

The forest seemed exceptionally peaceful that afternoon. There was little movement in the surrounding area, save for a bird high above in the canopy. It almost made me forget what was soon to come on this day. A lot of people look at dragon slayers with respect and awe. I really wish they wouldn’t. They don’t know the half of it.

I’ll always remember my very first kill. There was a dragon that was terrorizing the people of a tiny village. I was only twenty. I had trained with a shield and blade for years and had learned all I could about a dragon’s anatomy, but I was still as green as grass. I wasn’t hired for the job; I was just the only person stupid enough to bother. The village was fairly impoverished, so no one else was willing to risk their life for a paltry fee. The people in the village tried to dissuade me from my duty, but that wasn’t about to happen. They didn’t understand. No one ever does. I didn’t want to do it. I had to.

The villagers were surprised, to say the least, when I came back both alive and with dragon’s blood on my sword. They thought I was some kind of savior. To be honest, it did give me something resembling a good feeling to see their reaction. But I was no hero. I just got lucky.

I took a few more bites of the apple, and then cast it to the side. The breeze that had blown across the road seemed weaker within the forest. The bright sunlight was masked by the leaves above me, giving the forest a serene feeling. I watched as a feather fluttered down to the ground, undoubtedly misplaced by one of the birds who had been perched in the tree. As I followed it to the ground, I noticed a small bird bouncing on the ground every so often. I don’t quite understand why, but the bird made me smile slightly. It calmed my mind in watching it go about its business. I retrieved the second and final apple from storage and brought it forth to follow in its friend’s footsteps.

There are many who romanticize the dragon-slaying profession. Knights in shining armor are what they always make dragon-slayers out to be. …If only. Like I said, there’s good money to be made in the business. And where there’s money in a profession, there will be people drawn to it for that reason. The dragon-slayers’ abandonment of the people in that village made their real motivation starkly apparent to me. Perhaps dragon-slayers bring about good things through their actions. But a positive end does not forgive dirty motives.

The second apple was stripped clean before long. I let out a quiet sigh as my lunch was brought to completion. Lunch was always a good time for me, which made it all the worse when it was over. It posed the perfect escape. When I was eating lunch, I didn’t have to live my life. I could simply relax and enjoy myself. It’s a pity that it couldn’t last longer. But at least there’s one per day – one short span of solace out of the twenty-four hours in a day.

I slowly rose to my feet and, after casting aside the second apple, dusted off my clothing. Inhaling slowly and then exhaling, I looked around at the forest one last time. The leaves from the trees above were busy littering the ground below, in some places completely covering the ground and making the soil invisible. As I walked back towards the road, they softly crunched under my feet; it was fortunate that I had no need to be stealthy. The rolling fields came into view, and with them came the long road as well. I walked along the same path by which I had entered the forest, and found myself back on the road before much longer.

By this time it was already around one-thirty. I wondered if I had misjudged exactly how far away from the town this signpost was that I was supposed to find. I hoped not, for otherwise that would probably mean that I have to spend the night outside. This wasn’t really a problem, as I had done so in the past. But it was a nuisance.

As I walked along the road, I saw to the left another family having lunch out in the field, much as I had done in the forest moments before. They had a small blanket sprawled out on the grass. The couple was having a conversation while their three children played nearby.

I looked away as soon as I saw the children. Grumbling, I wondered aloud why children always had to seem so happy. As more thoughts began to stir within my head, I softly sighed.

“Why won’t you wake up, Mom!?”

I suppose saying that children reminded me of myself was slightly inaccurate. They didn’t remind me of the way I was at the time. Rather, they reminded me of the possibilities of what I might have been. There was a spark in their eyes that I especially hated. It was a spark that I never had. At least… not since that day.

“Don’t… don’t leave me here…”

I suddenly looked up. I had lost track of myself since seeing the children. My mind has a tendency to wander when that happens, and I often walk without even being conscious of my motions.

Shaking my head, I resumed walking down the path. My eyes then suddenly brightened as I peered down the path. Protruding quietly from the grass just off to the left side, there was a signpost. Walking up to it, I examined it out of curiosity. It wasn’t particularly interesting; the text merely stated the name of each town on either end of the road and the approximate distance to each of them.

I nodded quietly. The note only mentioned a single signpost, so this had to be the one. The dragon’s cave had to be somewhere in the vicinity. I scanned the mountain range to the left, but its rock walls seemed sturdy and free of holes. I then turned around and stared towards the forest. Since the mountain range behind me had no imperfections in it, I figured that the forest on the right side must be concealing the cave. I headed back towards the woods.

Passing through the tree line, I carefully listened while the leaves crunched and crackled beneath my feet. The corner of my eye spied a squirrel scurrying up a tree, perhaps frightened by the racket my feet were making. A cold wind blew between the tree trunks, picking up the leaves on the ground and carrying them a short distance before placing them gently back onto the ground. I closed my eyes as a leaf blew into my face again, forcing me to brush it away. That was the one thing I disliked about leaves: there wasn’t much one could do about them if they happened to get in one’s way. A lot of things in life are like that, sad to say.

Slowly, the mountains behind the trees came into view. The jagged mountainside towered high above the forest. I looked to the left and right to see if my target was in the vicinity. It was with not a small amount of surprise that I saw an opening in the cliff face a short distance away to the left. Finding the dragon’s cave was not always that easy. When I drew a little closer, the opening continued so deeply that I could not see the back of it. Evidently, this was indeed what I was looking for. I sighed. A part of me had hoped that no cave would be found, because I always hated this part. It was bad for my nerves, to put it lightly. I looked at the cave entrance and bowed my head.

“Son, there’s been a dragon attack. We’ve slain the beast.”

My heartbeat was faster than usual, but that was to be expected. Most people don’t have to face their own mortality routinely. I’d like to say I did this on a voluntary basis, but I didn’t really. If I hadn’t believed I was doing the right thing, I wouldn’t have been doing it.

“But… your parents were both killed before we could stop it. …I’m so sorry.”

That was many years ago. However, the image has been forever scarred into my brain. It is one of those memories that one would prefer to be simply erased forever. My cheek felt colder than usual against the breeze. I raised my hand to feel it and found it to be slightly damp. Gritting my teeth and closing my eyes, I wiped the cheek dry.

“I’m not weak,” I told myself in a scornful tone of voice. “I can’t be weak.”

Vigorously, I shook my head from side to side in an attempt to rid my mind of the thoughts, but it was of little use. Thieves may take one’s gold and possessions, but it takes murder to rob someone of what is truly precious in life. As I grew up, I became more and more fixated on what I had to do in life. Training as hard as I could, I made a promise to myself:

Never again…

I nodded.

Never again will I allow the innocent to be slaughtered by a monster.

It was a mantra that I repeated every time I was about to put my life on the line. It was the only thing that kept my nerves from giving way. It was a reminder of why I fought and why I risked so much for people I didn’t know.

I drew my sword and readied my shield for battle, and then stepped a few feet into the cave, pausing shortly thereafter. It always took my eyes a little while to adjust to the darkness. Eventually the interior became clearer, although it was still dim. I grew still as I listened for anything audible inside the cave. Deep within the cave, a faint rumbling sound could be heard. There was no mistaking it: this was definitely the right cave. I braced myself for what lay beyond as I pressed deeper.

The cave’s air was deathly still, in antipodean contrast to the conditions outside. One could have heard a pin drop. The blackness of the cave drew me on and invited me deeper. Perhaps the Reaper lived within the darkness, eager for another soul to harvest. But I was not the greenhorn that I used to be. If I had anything to say about it, the reaper would have to wait for another day.

The light in the cave grew dimmer as I pressed deeper into the cave. Thankfully, the cave was straight. I once considered attempting to carry torches into caves, but ruled that out, as it would have made handling both my sword and my shield difficult at best. I had to be ready at a moment’s notice.

And then I heard it, plain as day and terribly familiar. From close by, there came a growl. Anyone unacquainted with the sound, it would terrify to the core. I know this because that is precisely how I felt when I heard the sound the first time. Even now, it still rendered me tenser than before. I heard movement, and as my eyes darted around, I suddenly saw it.

There, in front of me, was my target. It was a fair-sized dragon. Standing at full height, the average dragon is about seven to eight feet tall with a body over twice as wide as a human’s. They have razor-sharp claws at the end of each arm, and, of course, they also have the trademark fire breath, setting them apart from any other creature. A dragon-slayer would be suicidal to face a dragon with a sword alone, for he would be utterly defenseless against the fire.

Although the hardness of dragon scales makes them very useful to craftsmen for things such as shields, they also, unfortunately, make the creatures very difficult to kill. The scales cover the dragon’s entire body from head to toe, and striking them with a sword serves only to dull the blade. There is one single, solitary weakness on a dragon’s body, which any dragon-slayer knows well.

The dragon gave a piercing roar as it rose to its feet, spreading its wings wide to assert its size. Such an action didn’t faze me much, for I’ve seen it before. I was much more worried about the parts of the dragon that could actually hurt me. Though the light was dim, what little light there was reflected dimly off the dragon’s scales. Had the dragon been out in the sunlight, it would have been a marvelous sight to behold, and I regretted not being able to see this. At least it would have then given me something to enjoy.

But there was no time to ponder such matters. The dragon knew very well why I had come. It snorted, producing small puffs of fire out of its nostrils, and it then bowed low and charged towards me, producing terrible tremors as its weight shook the ground upon each footstep. I easily leapt out of the way, but in passing, the dragon took a swipe at me that I had not expected. I rubbed the back of my hand against my right cheek, and sure enough, found a small amount of blood. I grumbled at the dragon and circled around while it rose and growled ferociously at me.

As it pulled its head back, I immediately knew what was to come next. I raised my shield just in time to put a barrier between me and the surge of hellfire that spewed forth from the depths of the dragon’s chest. The cave lit up like the sun, causing the dragon’s scales to glisten in the firelight. Gritting my teeth, I held the shield tightly in place. As the fire began to heat up my face, I slowly became unable to bear it and was forced to turn my head to give it extra shielding from the scorching heat.

And it was then that I saw something that I was fully and utterly unprepared for. Further down in the cave, and now illuminated by the blaze, were two sets of eyes staring at me. These eyes, however, were not ferocious, nor were they hostile. Rather, they appeared very frightened. There, in the depths of the cavern, were two baby dragons, peering out at me apprehensively. I muttered to myself that I would have to kill them next to finish the job.

I did not have very long to think about this, however, as the dragon had grown tired of spewing its fire and jumped towards me again. I had been momentarily distracted, which resulted in me jumping away just in time. I rolled along the ground and quickly righted myself, spinning around to face the dragon once again. Letting out another fearsome roar that caused the very air in the cavern to vibrate, it jumped at me again. Its moves were nothing out of the ordinary, however, as I had seen them many times before. I simply jumped backwards, out of the dragon’s range.

What had been out of the ordinary for me, however, was the sight of the baby dragons I had seen deeper in the cave. I tried to concentrate, but my mind kept coming back to them. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt that there was more significance to what I had seen than what was immediately apparent. Obviously, the dragon in front of me was very likely their mother. But the question still remained: why was this troubling me so much?

Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit me. I thought back to the town mayor’s words. He told me that this dragon had attacked and killed a man and wounded another. The latter of the two managed to make it back to the town to report on what had happened. He said that the dragon had ruthlessly attacked them first. But looking at the dragon in front of me, and considering the logistics behind that, I suddenly doubted that story. It didn’t make any sense. Perhaps this doubt had been in my mind all along, and I had simply suppressed it.

The dragon stomped on the ground and slashed at me suddenly. Uncharacteristically, I had been lost in thought, and this move caught me completely off-guard. Having only enough time to raise my sword, I barely managed to stop the dragon’s attack as my sword was planted between two of its claws. The dragon struggled briefly and then pushed forward with its strong muscular arm, casting me back. I stumbled backwards, but regained my balance. Shaking out my head, I tried to concentrate. It didn’t work.

My mind was racing. It seemed utterly foolhardy to now begin to doubt after so long. But I did. The dragon before me was not a killer. It was simply a mother protecting its children from greedy men seeking gold. I began to wonder how many other doubts I had suppressed in the course of my life. A wave of emotion flowed over me. I could not tell whether it was rage, distress, despair, or a combination of all three. But it didn’t matter.

I looked towards the dragon. Fire was raging from its nostrils. No, I told myself: no, this was a dragon, scourge of humanity, and part of the species that murdered my parents and terrorized citizens. I glared at the beast as the doubt left my mind. This was, indeed, the right thing to do. I braced myself for the creature’s next move, and not a moment too soon, for it quickly took another lunge at me, following with a swipe of its claws. I leapt backwards and then slashed at its unprotected underarm as the claws whizzed past. My sword hit its mark, creating a sizable gash in the dragon’s arm. It reeled backwards, momentarily stunned.

That’s when I saw it. The creature’s chest lay bare as it stood up on its haunches, taken aback by the slice through its arm. There lay the weak point, its solitary weak point. A sword through the chest into its heart would bring an end to the beast’s life once and for all. My eyes glinted. This fight was quickly drawing to a conclusion.

But then, without permission, my mind turned back to the baby dragons in the rear.

“Why won’t you wake up, Mom!?”

No…

“C’mon… wake up.”

What was I thinking?

“Don’t… don’t leave me here…”

A solitary salty drop of water found its way back to my cheek. I shook my head out. I wasn’t thinking what I was thinking. I couldn’t have been! After so long, it was inconceivable. It was either me or the dragon, no two ways about it. There was only one thing I could think of doing. I had to recite my mantra.

I made a promise long ago.

…I swore an oath to myself.

I will not allow the innocent to be slaughtered by a monster.

I raised my sword and directed its tip at the monster’s chest.

…Never again.

Clang, clang, clang.

My sword and shield made quite a racket as they contacted the cave’s floor. My arms were still raised at chest level, a position in which they stayed for a short while. Then, I simply let them drop and backed up until my heel collided with a stray rock in the cavern. I fell backwards and found myself sitting on the ground. I looked up at the dragon towering over me.

My mind could not help but think back over my life. The dragon before me was not a foul killer. How many other dragons had I killed, then, that had similar stories to tell? Surely some of them must have been like the dragon that had ransacked my hometown. But who would consider it appropriate to kill every human in order to root out the evil ones? How, then, could one justify doing the same to these creatures? Was it all… just a lie?

I could scarcely believe such a thing. Yet, there were few other conclusions that one could make. I found it almost comical that someone’s life could be so turned upside-down by one single mental image. But, I suppose that’s the way things go. If something is false, there will always be evidence proving it as such. One can only retain belief in a lie either by remaining willfully ignorant or by happening to miss all evidence to the contrary. Perhaps I merely took a long time to be confronted with evidence. Or… perhaps I fell under the former category of people. I may never know.

Faced with a dragon in as compromised a situation as mine, any normal person would have found themselves riddled with fear. I, however, felt no such thing. I could only think of the many dragons I had killed over the years. It was an utterly indescribable feeling. I laughed to myself as I thought of my life. Yesterday, I had been protecting humanity from vile, terrible beasts in a way that few dared to do. But today, I was nothing more than a common murderer.

I looked up at the beast with a face that would have perplexed an onlooker. Very slightly, I was smiling. Perhaps it was because this seemed appropriate. Long ago, the people in my hometown had killed a creature that had murdered many humans, including my parents. It was a just killing. The creature deserved to die for its heinous offenses. And now, for my fantastically oblivious fall from grace, I, too, deserved to die.

Another tear made its way down my cheek and perched itself upon my lips. My surroundings seemed distant and hazy as I looked at them. I was in a daze. My eyes struggled to focus as they looked towards the dragon in front of me. As my throat became tighter, my mouth continued to softly smile at the creature. I could muster energy to do nothing else.

Suddenly, however, a most unexpected event occurred. The dragon did not finish what I had begun. It simply turned around and walked back into the cave. I stared, my smile fading as I watched its figure merge with the darkness. I was speechless and confused. Here I had been prepared to die, and now the job was left incomplete. I pondered what this meant, growing angry. I had wanted to die! Could the world not have afforded at least that much?

I looked down towards the floor and rubbed my scratched cheek, and then looked down at my hand. In the dim light of the cave, the familiar red liquid could be seen. I pondered what exactly it was I was looking for when I did this. I knew that I was going to see blood. Perhaps, I thought silently, I was simply ensuring that I was still alive. At a time like this, I could be forgiven for doubting such a thing.

I closed my eyes and lay back against the cave’s wall. The blackness behind my eyelids was a welcome retreat. I was in very peculiar situation. I should have been dead, and yet I lived. The dragon, too, should have been dead, but it lived as well. It was appropriate in world turned upside-down. I suppose it was a fair trade between us - although I must confess that I got more out of it than the dragon did.

I sat back up and opened my eyes. There in front of me was my sword, just as I had left it. The devil on my shoulder suggested that I pick it up and carry on. But that thought was very short-lived. I unbuckled the sword’s sheath from my waist and held it up in front of me, looking at it. It was largely unremarkable; I had used it for its functionality, not for show. I sighed as I looked it over. Like my sword, it was an accomplice. But it had an excuse. It didn’t know any better.

After a short while, I threw the sheath towards the sword. It made a subdued thump against the ground as it made contact. I stared at the two together. They had never left my side for even one day since I began my training so long ago. I felt naked without them. But though my darker side prompted me to retrieve them, I knew such a thing was impossible. I turned my gaze away from them. I didn’t want to be reminded of their existence anymore.

I sighed. If I was not going to die, then I supposed that I might as well get up. Bringing myself to my feet and brushing off the dust as best as I could, I turned my head toward the deep end of the cave. Somewhere in that blackness were the dragon and its children. Sighing again, I turned around and walked towards the entrance of the cave. The light at the end of the tunnel slowly grew larger until at last I had re-emerged from the cave. In thinking about it, perhaps “re-emerged” is not the right word to use. That would imply that the same person entering the cave was now leaving it.

I walked back through the forest. Normally I would be paying attention to the surroundings, as I usually enjoy my time in forests. But this time, my mind was somewhere else entirely. The birds still chirped and fluttered, and the squirrels continued to scurry about, but they might as well have been silent and motionless for all the effect that they had on me.

Pausing before passing through the last few trees in the forest, I looked back through the forest and then to the treetops. There were a few movements of birds high above. I envied them a great deal. They never had to question their actions in life. Their lives were prescribed for them from birth, and they instinctively knew what they had to do. I wondered why humans could not have such a pleasant fate. Such is the curse of humanity, I suppose.

When I emerged from the trees, the signpost was in front of me, exactly as I had left it. I walked up to it and examined it once again. I read the name of the town that I had left at noon on this same day. Staring at the signpost, my mind was drawn to the note in my pocket, and the cogs in my mind immediately began to turn. This signpost was the sole identification of where the dragon’s cave was.

I looked left and right to see if anyone was coming, and saw no one. I wrapped both hands around the signpost’s pole. Straining and grunting, I pulled up as hard as I could, and slowly, the sign lifted out of the ground, leaving only a hole that marked the place where it had previously stood.

I walked back into the forest a fair way and slid the signpost underneath a thick bush. This wouldn’t deter the truly determined from finding the dragon’s cave, but I hoped that it would at least deter the lazy ones who are only in the business to line their pockets. I considered the functionality of the sign, but decided that the information it conveyed was not terribly vital.

I looked down at the hidden sign and thought of the reasons why I had removed it. Most humans would probably laugh at me if they knew what I was doing. Dragon-slaying was not going to stop merely because I was giving it up. There would always be desire for dragons’ scales and there would always be miserable, detestable humans ready at a moment’s notice to kill innocent creatures to fulfill human desire. Yes, no man can stop the flood. But every man can remove the raindrops that he contributes to it.

I squatted down and looked closer at the sign, and then closed my eyes and bowed my head. There would be no gravestones for the victims of my sins. This sign was the best they were going to get. I opened my eyes and stared at it. Here lay the souls of creatures just like us, blamed and scapegoated by men who would not understand. And here, too, lay a wretched man who had sleepwalked through life. I bowed my head once more and gave the dragons a final prayer. If there was a God, I prayed that He would not deny them the same kind treatment intended for His human children.

I returned to the road and covered up the hole as best as I could. And then, I found myself at a crossroads. To the west lay certain shame, failure, and admonishment. For a multitude of reasons, I never wanted to see the townsfolk again. There was no reason for me to return there; nothing awaited me that would bring about anything positive. But where, then, was I to go?

I sighed and turned my head in the other direction. I had never travelled that way before. It was a complete unknown for me, and I had no idea whether there would be anything there for me at all. I doubted that anyone would know who I was, who I had been, or who I wished to become. I gazed down the path in that direction for a short while and pondered my options.

“To the east,” the man had said. “You’ll find what you seek to the east.”

…Perhaps he was right after all.