The Last Dragon Is a Coward
fantasy◐ MatureThe boy didn't leave. He sat in the cave mouth, wrapped his thin arms around his knees, and talked. He told the dragon his little sister's name. He told it about the bread his mother baked. He talked all night, his voice cracking. The dragon listened, silent. Near dawn, something old and heavy stirred in its chest. It hadn't felt it in three hundred years.
At first light the dragon stood and shook three hundred years of dust off its wings. "Climb on my back," it told the boy. "Hold the spike at my neck and don't let go." The boy scrambled up. The dragon walked to the cliff edge, looked down at the army crossing the valley far below, and made a low sound that might have been fear or a laugh. Then it jumped.
What happens next?
2 ways forwardThe dragon swooped low and breathed. A wall of fire rolled across the front ranks. Soldiers screamed and scattered. The dragon climbed, turned, and dove again. By the third pass the Ashen Legion was running back the way it came, banners trampled in the mud. The boy whooped, tears freezing on his face. They had won.