The Dragon and the Three Knights

[_RoyalCrafter_ 3361]

The Dragon and the Three Knights
Authored by Sterling Percy Amador
Published by Blue Orchid Publishing
 

Foreward
I dedicate this book to my dearest cousin, Nataliya Amador.

 

I wished to write a children's book for you myself, something to keep you company while I'm away and something to fill you with inspiration. I hope you enjoy it.

 

In the Kingdom of Adalgonia, there lived a beautiful princess by the name of Madeline. Her hair was wavy, with eyes like lakes, but most importantly, she had a heart full of compassion and love. When famine struck the kingdom, Princess Madeline ordered for food from the castle to be given for free to the people. During times of war, she donned her armour and joined her men on the field of battle. She was loved by the people of Adalgonia.
 

On a horrible night when the moon was red and the lightning was green, a terrible beast rose from the earth . The Dragon Malephor was born. Its horns twisted and curled randomly, its nose dripped a pungent snot, and its body was garish like a furless bear. Its black and vile heart beat with a desire to do nothing more but sow chaos. So for its first action, it flapped its bat-like wings and flew to Adalgonia.
 

As the horrid cloud approached, the arbalests upon the kingdom’s wall fired at it. But Malephor was unharmed, its scale too thick for their weapons. With a mighty roar, it shook the earth, and with a swipe of its snake-like tail, it broke apart the palace in search of the princess.
 

“Halt you fiend!” The princess commanded. “Leave my people alone!”
 

The dragon gave a toothy grin, revealing rows upon rows of teeth from different animals. “For people free, pay must thee, your liberty. Come with me, and I will leave. If nee I’ll salt this place with sea.”

 

The princess, seeing no other choice, agreed to the dragon’s demands. With a sweep of its claw, Malephor stole the princess and cackled wickedly as it flew to the Mountain of Treachery where it made its lair.

 

With the princess gone, the people of Adalgonia wept. Her father, king Adalan summoned all his knights to plan.
 

At the table of knights, the king spoke. “Who is brave enough to fight the dragon? Who shall go and save my daughter?” Some knights looked to themselves, remembering the dragon's might and left the meeting.
 

The king sweated. “What if I offer you land as a reward?” Some knights nodded to each other, remembering the impenetrable skin of the dragon, and left.
 

King Adalan loosened his collar. “Her hand! I’ll promise Madeline’s hand to whoever saves her” The few that stayed this far looked each other in the eyes, remembered the dragon’s hideous visage and left. The king sighed in despair, as only 3 knights remained in front of him.
 

Ser Callahan of the Pristine Lion, stood tall and broad with flowing blonde hair. His armour was polished and shined like silver, but instead of a shield, he gazed into a mirror.
 

Ser Donal of the Dancing Rat was known for his guile and cunning. His armour was dull grey and stained with ale, though his coin pouch was always full.
 

With a youthful face and eyes ablaze, Ser Tristan of the Azure Tulip stood wearing simple armour and a shield. But the cross on his chest plate was well kept.
 

“I” Ser Callahan bellowed. “Shall save the princess all on my own! We will make a fine pair! Like a set of twin jewels!”
 

The blonde knight rushed forth through the ruined city on his purebred white steed. An old blacksmith stood by his broken smithy, his face ashen and sunken, begging for water. The pristine knight sneered at the man and kept riding forth.
 

Outside the kingdom, he passed by a barren glade, with nought but a single stone hut. Ser Callahan, parched from his travels, entered the hut uninvited. An ageing crone, dressed in time-beaten furs was sitting in the corner making stew.
 

“Old hag, bring me soup. I am tired” He demanded. “I’m on an epic quest to save the princess.”

The old lady shook her head. “I cannot give you anything, but advice.”

Callahan scoffed. “What can you possibly tell me?” He got up from the table and rode off again.

 

With dwindling supplies, he passed through the Woods of Truth. Ser Callahan’s hunger was mounting so he searched for some food to forage. Upon seeing a bright red mushroom his stomach roused. He plucked it and tossed it into his maw, and promptly fell onto the ground, dying from the poisonous mushroom.

After a month of no word, Ser Donal rode out on his own. “I’m not sharing land with a boy like you” He spat to Tristan. “Stay here.”

Ser Donal rode out through the city on his black horse. Upon passing by the beggar blacksmith he asked. “Old man, give me all you have remaining. You don’t need it anyway.” The blacksmith grumbled and tossed a rock at Donal. The knight sneered and rode away. To save money, he fed his horse poor grain. When he arrived at the old lady’s hut, he saw her shovelling fresh hay.
 

“Oi crone” He yelled. “Spare my horse some feed, you have too much anyway to fit into your house.”

The elderly woman shook her head. “I cannot do that, all I can offer is some advice.”

Ser Donal spat and turned away riding till his horse gave out. He walked the Woods of Truth on foot, going in circles in circles, and he kept arriving back at the forest entrance. Ashamedly, he returned back home.

Finally, Ser Tristan rode out on his loyal horse. As he passed the begging smith, he offered him his water skin, some food and coin without a second thought for his own provisions. Finally receiving some respite, a bit of energy returned to the man.

“Thank you, young lad. I’ve nothing I can give ye, but this cross. It is old n’ rusty, but I hope you will carry it so that Godan may guide ye.”

Tristan accepted the cross with a sincere smile. “Thank you, I’ll treasure it dearly.”

As the knight ventured further out of the kingdom, he passed the empty glades of the old hag. With his food low, he approached the door of the hut and knocked upon it.

 

“May I come in?” He asked.

 

After a moment of silence, the door creaked open on its own. “Yes, you may.” The voice of the crone echoed from inside.

 

Ser Tristan entered the hut, taking care to not disrupt the interior. He sat on a wooden chair and looked around, his eyes landing on the old lady making soup. “Thank you for allowing me to stay here,” he said.

The old lady grunted in acknowledgement. “Would you like some soup?”  She offered.

Tristan nodded. “I’m the stranger here, only if it doesn’t impose on you.”

The lady smiled and gave him a warm bowl of hearty and reinvigorating soup. “It is no trouble. Eat up and listen to my advice.”

The young knight gladly tucked into the food, savouring it. But his eyes were focused on the old woman.

“The foot of Treachery crushes all faithless hearts…” She murmured. “And all hearts lie at the root of truth.”

The knight tilted his head confusedly, but thanked her for her advice and rode off on his horse into the woods.

In the deep, and misty forests, he wandered endlessly, until he felt a tugging at his neck. He looked down to see the cross given to him by the blacksmith being pulled to the left. Tristan muttered a prayer and turned left. When the cross pulled right he turned right, when it went straight he continued so, until he arrived at a gnarled, rotten black tree. As he approached the tree he drew his sword, but nothing came. He saw a glint within the roots, and hacked at them, pulling out a fist-sized onyx. It was oddly hot to the touch.  

After he picked it up, the cross spun around his neck and pulled him back. Tristan turned around and left with the object in hand. Days upon days he travelled, the landscape grew ill and ashen, until he arrived at the bottom of the Mountain of Treachery.

Upon his arrival, the ground started to rumble, a giant shadowy figure could be seen in the clouds swirling around the mountain peak. The dragon had spotted him. Malephor shook the mountain, sending boulders careening down to obliterate Tristan. With his horse, he dodged and weaved between them, but one flew straight onto him. Seeing no way to dodge it, Tristan grabbed his cross and held it tightly, praying to Godan. As the giant boulder touched his hair it splintered into a million pebbles.
 

With his eyes widened in realisation, he quickly took out the burning onyx and held it in his hand. As another boulder fell upon him, he held the onyx against it, causing both it and the boulder to shatter. A ghastly shriek pierced the sky, and a giant black cloud could be seen plummeting in the distance onto the rocky mountaintops.

Tristan, with his remaining might, scaled the mountain to the dragon’s lair and found Madeline there. She was not harmed or shaken, and Tristan fell to his knees and thanked Godan. He then turned to Madeline and asked, “My princess, how have you braved this darkness?”

 

She simply smiled. “Keeping my faith I had no fear. The dragon could not crush me. Hearts of darkness will always be, but light will always cut itself free.”
 

Tristan took Madeline’s hand, and they descended calmly down the mountain. When they returned to the Kingdom of Adalgonia they married, but Tristan did not ask for land. Instead, the holy couple went to the Woods of Truth, to root their hearts together in faith, truth and love.

[Orphvius 435]

Edlynne Mara Amador reads over the script in the wee hours of the night, sleep came difficult for the darling child after seeing the face of a shadow like many of the other children that attended the sleepover hosted not long ago at the keep. Dancing, twisting ankles, and drawing could only provide so much entertainment after all. What she really needed was a good read!

Though she must wonder if Ser Tristan was based off of her own cousins likeliness and if he really did conform to the dogma of the church the way the faithful protagonist did so vigilantly..    

 .\|/.     

Edited February 15, 2023 by Orphvius