The kind peasants he met, by generous gifts, completed his full suit of armor.
One humble peasant gave him his steed, the greatest gift of them all
Though riding was something which Draidyn knew not, he learned after many a fall
As the farms petered out, the terrain became rough, and a dark shape loomed far and distant
He knew it to be Mount of Zathura’s Lair, he recognized it in an instant
When Draidyn reached the root of its slopes, he recalled the legends and tales
That no man’s sword, no matter how strong, can pierce a she-dragon’s scales
“Lord,” he breathed, gazing at his sword, “Thou art my lone Provision”
This mere blade will save me not, I ask for Your Protection.”
What he did not know (he’d not been told) was the sense of a dragon’s nose
And that if a man, the mountain nears, the monster quickly knows
His steed gave a knicker, a moment passed, then a shadow fell all around
the horse reared back, eyes wide with fear, hurling Draidyn straight to the ground!
Not a second later, the boy was engulfed in a withering blast of heat
Zathura alighted, tossing her head, convinced of her foe’s defeat
Imagine with me, the extent to which, the monster was astonished
When he picked himself up off of the ground and waved his sword unvanquished!
An incinerating blaze she bequeathed to him, but was once again befuddled
to see him stand, his sword aglow, his melted armor puddled
As Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego had all withstood the flame,
Our hero had, by Providence, likewise endured the same!
Although, unlike King Nebuchadnezzar, Zathura did not relent
She bared her claws, and lashed with speed, his death her sole intent
‘tis said no dragon can ever fall, but by dragon’s pow’r alone
t’was dragon’s fire that lit his sword, so brightly red it shone
and as she struck to take his life, she found herself de-clawed!
In fury, the dragon struck again, but this time was de-pawed.
The blade, it glowed still brighter, as if in joyful glee
It danced, it shone, it stung until the monster turned to flee
But refuge, Zathura did not find, her neck soon lost its head
Thus the kingdom was avenged, its Behemoth was dead!
And in the moment the deed was done, the weapon’s light blinked out,
So Draidyn threw back his head, hills resounding with his shout
“Praise be to Him who gives strength to the weak, and power to the powerless!!
Justice is wielded in His hand to avenge the widowed and fatherless!!!”
To be continued...
“Here, here my son, sit upon my knee,
Now, what fair tale shall I tell to thee?”
“Father, tell me of monsters, a Princess, a knight!”
“Ah, then ‘Draidyn and the Dragon’ you shall hear tonight:
Long ago, not far from here,
an old man was trudging homeward
When he spied a distant cottage, which in ruins now smoldered
His rheumatics forgotten, he broke into a run,
Once reaching the ashen heap, he suspected arson!
When finding fierce claw marks on the charred door,
His suspicions were confirmed even more.
“This is Dragon’s work.” he muttered, and he kicked a blackened chair
When an unmistakable child’s cry pierced the smoky air.
The man feverishly scrabbled through rubble and debris,
‘til at last the wailing babe, from the ashes, he pulled free
“Hush, hush, little boy,” he cooed, “Protection I pledge to thee,
Thou art the son I never had, thine father I shall be.
Thy new name is now Draidyn, for thou withstood the fire
Avenge your parent’s blood, may it be your heart’s desire.”
Seasons passed, and the child grew, the man was continually amazed
For the boy could play in the hearth, amid fire and flame, unscathed!
In the man’s heart, he understood, why this boy alone survived
And the truth of his parent’s death, from Draidyn he did not hide
Draidyn loved to read the scriptures, to ponder his Father’s love
It comforted him to know he served a Sovereign Lord above
Whenever he prayed, he sensed God’s will for his destiny
To destroy Zathura the she-Dragon, who slaughtered his ancestry
Full well, he knew God’s call was clear, and shan’t be put to test
So at age eighteen he grasped his sword and began this sacred quest
Farewell he bid to those he loved, but promised no return
In the village he questioned many, of the dragon he hoped to learn
Rumors spread like wildfire through the villages of the land
Of a God-sent boy in defiance, of Zathura would stand
In this way he bore their burden, all hopes were laid on him,
Yet their fervent prayers were a strong support, though the task was no less grim
News reached the king of the little realm, the boy’s sure fate he mourned
But every knight in the castle, Draidyn’s foolishness they scorned
However, King Thaedis could not ignore the boy’s bold Christian courage
Thus he pledged, “if the boy survives”, his daughter’s hand in marriage
The trouble was, the daughter he’d had was long ago snatched by Zathura
So “if she still lives, and if he succeeds, he probably wouldn’t mind marrying her.”
“Is that not how all fairy tales end, at least all the ones that I hear?
Those say nothing of kings losing their queens, their daughters and all that is dear.”
To be continued...