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The Last Dragon Is a Coward
fantasy◐ Mature5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep
The dragon stood, but its legs trembled. "I'm still afraid," it admitted. "I have been afraid for three hundred years." The boy put his small hand on its huge scaled foot. "So am I," he said. "We can be scared together." The dragon looked at him a long moment. Then it breathed in deep, and for the first time in centuries a curl of real fire glowed at the back of its throat.
The dragon flew straight at the Legion and let its old fear turn into fire. It burned their siege towers, their banners, their supply carts. It was clumsy and slow after so long, and an arrow tore its wing, but it did not stop. By the time the sun was full up, the Legion was fleeing, and the dragon stood smoking and bleeding before a village that was still standing.
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