Thus ends the tale of the Knight of the Thorny Petal, lying at the dragon’s feet, letting out her last, desperate pants, and… Yup. She’s dead.
Sorry if you were telling this story to your kids. It’ll toughen ‘em up.
Did you think she could do it? Because I’m gonna be honest, I kinda thought she had it for a second. But, alas, the dragon got her.
I really should be better at predicting by now. Y’know this is my thirteenth run through this story? Yup it’s true. Dragon’s being a real diva about not wanting to be slayed. Few more times and I’m just gonna tell it from her persp-
Oh crap. I gotta go. Feel free to come with me; just keep reading. Don’t worry; I have a good feeling this time around.
Once upon a time, there was a powerful and wicked dragon named Aethrethriel. She had ravaged the kingdom of Luxendoor on many a moonless night. Twelve. Shit! Thirteen of the most noble and brave knights in the kingdom had already fallen to her claw… and her mouth and her tail and her genitals once (god, that was disturbing).
Fret not though, for a savior is coming, and from the most unlikely of places. He was chosen, not by tournament, but by a prophecy from the Seven Mages. Who is this hero of humble beginnings and lion’s heart? Why, the young squire, Soup, aged 13!? Are we serious? You know the kid is gonna be scorched right? Fine whatever.
Soup was proud to be chosen, and definitely didn’t soil his pants. For, he sought not only glory but vengeance. He had been squire to the Knight of the Thorny Petal, the bold lady, Glorimeldana, who was the dragon’s latest victim. He had a big crush on her too.
So, he trekked through the Swamp of Despair, the Valley of Rage, the Mountain of Doom, and the River of Pain (crazy how we never see a lake of joy). Finally, he arrived at the cave of the great and terrible Aethrethriel.
He banged on his shield, making a racket to draw the dragon from her lair.
“Your days of scourge are over, cruel Aethrethriel,” he shouted.
She emerged from her cave, wings beating like sails of ships, fangs like javelins, and claws larger than Soup’s whole body. She roared a roar that shook the Earth and knocked Soup to the ground. She raised her tail and went to slam it down on his puny body.
Ugh, I don’t wanna say this part. Not a kid. Maybe I could…
Soup, at the last moment, rolled out of the way. He takes advantage of his position to skewer the beast’s tail. She lashed in pain.
Soup still clung to his sword—a splinter to her—like he was an infant and it his mother’s bosom. And as Aethrethriel winced, he was flung into the air. Fortunately, he landed in a fresh pile of her dung. (Sorry kid. Only soft thing I could think of.)
Aethrethriel maneuvered, searching for her prey, sniffing for blood in the air. Young Soup’s scent was masked, though. So he ran back towards the dragon with reckless abandon, yelling, “For Luxendoor! For Glorimeldana!” Goddammit kid.
Her wings twitched and claws wiggled with joy as she watched young Soup slashing at her ankles. She laughed at the look on his face when his sword snapped against her claws.
Done playing with her food, Aethrethriel reached down and enveloped Soup in her mouth. His legs stuck out from between her teeth and kicked her lips. She slurped the rest of Soup into her mouth (God, is that why he’s named soup? That’s just sick. Sorry kid).
Thus ends the tail of young Soup. Wait, what? Aethrethriel worked her powerful jaws, mashing-
Oh hell no. That’s it. I’m taking over.
Aethrethriel had a sudden heart attack from how much red meat she’d been eating.
Soup pried open her jaws, said a thank you to the gods (you’re welcome), and went on his way back to Luxendoor, knowing the vast rewards that awaited him.
Soup lived happily ever after…
and that’s how you end a story, bitches.
“Daddy, that was a really weird book.”
“…yeah. We’ll read a different one tomorrow.”