On a high mountain, amongst slowly drifting clouds, in the light of a bright but cold sun, there lived a dragon. He was very fierce and dangerous. Hundreds of sharp, spear-like fangs, scales ― stronger than any steel armour, and hot, merciless flames. No one in the world could defeat him. And many tried! Thousands of knights, skilled with their swords, climbed the mountain to defeat the monster, but not a single one returned.
It hadn't always been this way. When the dragon first hatched from his egg, he was a tiny chick, by dragon standards, of course. His teeth weren't so sharp, and he couldn't breathe fire at all.
The dragon lived in the attic of a blacksmith's shop in the village at the foot of the mountain. At night he would climb onto the roof and admire the starry sky, and teach himself to fly.
The people didn't believe that a dragon had appeared in the village. Children made up stories about a terrible beast that kidnapped people, and told them to each other. Adults thought the dragon was a joke and dismissed such stories with a smirk. There were many rumours in the village; someone even claimed to have seen the dragon on the blacksmith's roof. The voices of witnesses mixed with legends, and soon it turned out that the dragon could transform into a human and was actually the local blacksmith.
The dragon himself was in no hurry to show himself to people. He listened to the village gossip and couldn't understand why people thought he was evil and frightening? He hadn't done anything wrong. So he was bad from birth and couldn't change that?
But his greatest sorrow was that no one believed in him. He was so tired of looking at the sky alone that one day he decided to stop hiding and fly not in darkness, but in the light of the sun.
Before his first daytime flight, the dragon was very anxious about how people would receive him. Perhaps they would take up arms and start shooting arrows? Or would they be happy that a fairy-tale creature lived in their village?
The dragon hadn't accounted for one thing: everyone was so busy with their own concerns that they never looked up at the sky. There was no room for wonder and fairy tales in the lives of the local people.
On his first daytime flight, the dragon enjoyed the fresh warm wind and the bright blue sky. Never before had the sun warmed him, never before had he seen the village and mountain so clearly.
Flying over the market, he caught an air current and spread his wings wide. He was no longer a tiny chick, and for a split second his wing blocked out the sun. Darkness fell over the town. People were frightened, but they still didn't look up.
At the market stood a young lad. He was helping his parents, who sold meat at a wooden stall. The boy had beautiful bright green eyes and curly red hair. His clothes were covered in dust. When darkness fell over the village, he looked up and saw the dragon flying past.
A dragon! There's a dragon in the sky! Mum, Dad, look! ― the boy exclaimed with wonder.
More of your fairy tales? ― his mother laughed in reply.
Get the meat box over here, quick, ― his father urged him on.
The darkness passed, the dragon flew away.
Please, look at the sky! ― he pleaded with his parents.
Son, get back to work. We all know dragons don't exist, ― his mother replied.
The dragon was deeply hurt that people had paid him no attention. At sunset he landed on a large clearing at the foot of the mountain. The sun was setting, and the huge stone boulder became dark and frightening. "I'll live here now," he sighed, deciding never to return to the blacksmith's shop.
The dragon felt anger building up inside him. He was prepared for any reaction from people, but he couldn't have imagined that they would simply not notice him! In his hurt, he knocked down several trees, scratched them with his claws, tore off leaves.
The despair that clouded his mind receded. He built a shelter from the fallen trees for the night and fell asleep. That evening he didn't look at the stars and slept restlessly. He dreamed of large bright green eyes looking out from the darkness.
Every day the dragon flew over the village. He wanted to be noticed, to be believed in. But it was all in vain: no one paid attention to the darkness that sometimes fell to the earth. Over time, people even gave it a name ― an eclipse. And they lived as if nothing unusual was happening.
The dragon grew angrier and angrier. His scales became darker, and his teeth sharper. One night he couldn't sleep and asked himself: "Why?". But there was no answer. The stars hid behind black clouds. The clouds descended from the mountain, hung over the clearing and slowly drifted towards the village.
From hurt, anger and exhaustion, the dragon roared loudly. This roar echoed through the forest and, reflected from the mountain, reached the village. People woke up in fear. No one could understand what was happening. They had never heard such a sound before. And the dragon noticed that small sparks appeared around his mouth. He roared again, even louder and more terrifying, and a wave of fire swept across the clearing from his jaws.
So the dragon learned to use fire. That night, the entire green clearing, full of thick grass and flowers, turned to ash.
And then the dragon figured out how to get people's attention. He would no longer fly over the town during the day: people wouldn't look at the sky anyway. He would come at night and show them his fire. Then they would surely believe in him.
The very next night he hung like a huge black shadow over the village. The dragon roared, and people woke up. They came out of their houses, trying to figure out where this sound was coming from again. The dragon, with all his might, sent a pillar of fire into the sky.
At last, people noticed him. The flames reflected in their eyes, and every single one looked at him with horror, as if he were a monster.
Someone shouted loudly: "Dragon!". The word echoed through the crowd. People scattered in panic, screaming, some grabbing weapons. The dragon looked at them and didn't understand why they were so afraid ― he hadn't burned a single building, he had simply shown them fire in the night sky. He heard voices: "Monster! Murderer!", and understood they were talking about him.
And then he flew away. He flew away forever. He couldn't return to the clearing. People had seen where he was heading, and they would surely come after him. He decided that from now on the peak of the black, cold, impregnable mountain would be his home. And he also understood that he would never be able to fly in daylight again.
Years passed. Years that the dragon spent in solitude. The echoes of the forest brought him legends, invented by the villagers. They said he had burned dozens of houses, that he kidnapped people and ate everyone in his path. People even sent brave souls to kill him, but none of them could climb the high mountain. And then everyone forgot about him. It was easier for people to believe that they had seen a fiery monster in their dreams than to accept the fact of his existence. And the dragon became just a fairy tale again, one that was told to children at night.
But one day something happened that the dragon couldn't have imagined. A traveller from the village climbed the mountain. He came at dawn on a summer day. His hands and feet were covered in cuts, he could barely move and, having barely climbed up, collapsed exhausted.
The dragon wasn't frightened. He understood that he could easily defeat any knight, he wasn't afraid of the sharpest swords and arrows. But his guest had no weapon.
The dragon approached the small man and warmed him with his warm breath. The traveller opened his eyes and said weakly: "I knew you existed!".
The dragon examined his guest with surprise. He saw no malice or fear in his eyes. His eyes... His green eyes seemed very familiar.
He snorted and helped the traveller to his feet. This was a grown man. His clothes were torn, and his thick, curly red hair was streaked with grey.
You're not evil at all, like the others say, ― the man said, looking at his reflection in the dragon's large eyes.
The dragon gave a friendly roar, but small sparks still fell from his jaws.
You know, I'm still not afraid of you. Do you remember me?
The dragon slowly nodded, which nearly knocked the traveller over with the wind.
I saw you a long time ago, when I was small, but not at night, during the day. You flew over the market square.
The dragon understood where he recognised that naive gaze of bright green eyes from. He smiled, the way only dragons can smile.
Yes, I've changed a lot since then. Back then no one believed me, but I knew you existed! When I set out for the mountain, people called me a fool. They said you were a monster, but I understood that wasn't true. You won't eat me, will you? ― the traveller's voice became quieter.
The dragon approached him and gave a gentle snort, warming him with his breath.
That's a good sign, ― the traveller said quietly and stroked the beast's rough scales. ― You won't be alone anymore, I'm not going anywhere.
From that day on, the dragon found a friend, and his new friend understood him without words. The fairy-tale beast couldn't speak, but that didn't matter at all. What mattered was that two solitudes were ready for a miracle, and the miracle happened!
