A Friend in the Bog

 Second submission for Iron Age. Just an FYI, proofreading is my kryptonite so if you find an error somewhere, it's not laziness, just crippling dread at having to re-read my finished work.

 

    Climbing to the top of the Wongan tree was hard for Sven, but every time he came to it, the task was a little easier. Those were the perks of growing up. With several grunts of effort, the young boy hoists himself up the smooth bark of the tree. By now, he had memorized the handholds and he had no more fear in climbing. In fact, Sven was quite happy to do so for it meant he could meet his friend.

For at the top of the Wongan tree, a creature made its home. Covered in fiery orange scales with a spine like a sawfish and bearing the countenance of a dragon from myth, the creature roosted atop the tallest tree at the edge of the Foggy Swamp. When Sven reached the top of the tall tree, he was greeted by a familiar face with a voice as cold as its eyes.
"Greetings to you, o sun-headed child,
what brings you today to this sullen wild?"

Sven smiled.
"Hello, Taran. I've been learning to read and my papa gave me a book to celebrate. I haven't read it yet because I wanted to share with you."

The big beast crawls over to the small boy, eager to see what he has to offer.
"Oh, a book you did bring?
won't you please share what is in
such a fancy, foreign thing?"

The boy sets his heavy bag down and sits upon a small cairn of rocks that Taran had set for him. Sven takes a large tome from his bag and opens it up to the middle.
"There once was a brave knight named Stefen. He was the strongest knight within the Kingdom of Cavendaire. One day, Stefen was called to the King's Court. 'Great Knight Stefen, your kingdom has need of you. The princess has been taken by the evil dragon Malagor and only you can save her!'"

Taran cocks his head to the side.
"Why, oh why would the princess he take,
for what reason could he have,
for this vile choice to make?"

"Hang on, Taran. It might tell us soon."

Sven flipped the page. His eyes grew wide and his mouth fell agape as he saw a picture of a powerful knight, clad in gleaming, silvery plate, holding high a longsword and mounted atop an armored steed.
"Whoa," Sven says, utterly marveled by the depiction. He looks so powerful."

"Bah, knight not so mighty.
He needs metal skin all 'round him
so that he is safe in the fighty."

The young boy casts a knowing glance at Taran who in turn smiles at Sven's humored look. The boy continues reading.

"And so, the knight heeded the king's call, sallying forth on his trusty horse, off to the mountain lair of Malagor. It was a long trek, fraught with peril and danger. Stefen was attacked by trolls, beset by bears and struck by great, winged beasts. The great knight grew weary, his armor scratched and punctured, but he did not waiver in his march."

"Ah, so indeed the knight was brave,
fought hard so the princess he might save.
But I am curious, I so desire to know,
to what end, what lengths and what pain,
the gallant knight will go."

Sven nodded in great agreement, but made clear his opinion to Taran.
"I hope he slays the dragon and rescues the princess!"

The scaled creature did not blink, but his eyes did narrow a bit. It was not enough for the boy to notice, but Taran felt something within, something he did not like. The boy continued.
"Gallant Stefen braved all the dangers, cut down all foes that stood in his way. With his sword and shield in hand, he reached Malagor's lair. The great knight entered into the dragon's miserable home, a foul den of sulfur and lava. With his guard raised, Stefen went deep into the cavern."

Sven turned the page and was once more stunned by the beauty of an image. His mouth was agape as he beheld a massive red drake was resting upon a pile of glimmering gold, polished gems and impressive baubles. The dragon's hoard was more than he had ever seen.

"Pah, is that all the dragon can acquire?
a dragon so old, his pile should be higher."

The boy looked over at Taran, the look of shock still etched upon Sven's face. The creature simply gazed at the book, his eyes only occasionally blinking. Taran was waiting patiently for the blonde boy to turn the page. He was deadly serious about the treasure. When the shock wore off, Sven continued the story.
"Stefen knew he could not win a fight against so mighty a dragon. The beast was too big and too ferocious. But he had to save the princess. The clever knight looked around and saw a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling, right above the dragon's head. Stefen sneaks his way to the chandelier's crank. His steps are those of a fairy, lighter than a feather and quiet as the air."

Taran giggles at the description.
"Fairy steps? Lighter than a feather? Quiet as the air?
Is Stefen the knight King Oberon or perhaps his lady fair?"

Sven looks at his orange-scaled friend with an expression of curiosity, the kind only a child could muster.
"Who is King Oberon?"

Taran turns his head and looks upward at the gloomy cloud that hangs over the swamp.
"The fairy king of the western lands,
swift of foot and with subtle hands,
concerned with goals so petty and crass,
bade his charming wife to love an ass."

The boy's expression of idle curiosity turned to one of frustrated confusion. It was as if Taran answered his question with another question. The creature raised his scaled hand and with pointed, sharp claws, deftly turned the book's page and then tapped his digit at the start of the next sentence. Sven started reading.
"The gallant knight unsheathed his sword and with a mighty stroke, slashed at the chain holding up the chandelier. The old iron broke easily beneath the blade and the heavy chandelier fell down with a shrill squeal. For a moment, the dragon stirred, but the iron that fell upon him crushed his head and no more was the dread dragon Malagor."

"Hmm."

Sven looked over at Taran, hearing clearly the quiet grumble the creature made. When Taran says nothing, the boy continues.
"With the dragon slain, Stefen called out for the princess! 'Annika, Princess Annika! Are you there?' 'Yes, I am here! Please save me, brave one!' Stefen rushes to the sound of her voice and finds the princess locked within a cage. With his sword, he smashes the lock and frees the princess. Overjoyed, she embraces her savior and promises the riches of her kingdom in gratitude. 'Nay,' the knight tells her. 'I am Stefen, a knight of your father's court. It was I he sent to save you from the dragon.'

The last page of the story gets turned and with it, a small rumble from Taran, quiet enough for Sven not to notice.
"Stefen returned with the princess. The kingdom rejoiced at his return, both for the safety of the princess and the slaying of the dragon. The gallant knight was treated as a hero, given the praise of the king and the people. For all his days, Stefen was the great protector of the kingdom and the most cherished knight in the land."

"Wow," Sven utters in a hushed breath. The story has enthralled him so thoroughly that he cannot contain his expression. He looks over at Taran, the boy's expression filled with wonder and glee. When he does not see even the slightest smile on the scaled beast's face, Sven's own enthusiasm wanes.
"What's wrong, Taran? Didn't you like the story?"

Taran's slit irises are focused on the book momentarily before instantly darting over to Sven. The orange creature once more pauses before speaking, carefully choosing his words.

"Caution, I would give you, my tiny little friend,
not all dragons are evil and not all seek your end.
Glory is fleeting and praise of little worth.
Know well your true friends,
for your time upon this earth.

Sven stares at Taran, sees the unflinching, reptilian face as it returns the stare to him. After a moment of contemplation, the young boy extends his hand towards the dragon.
"You are my friend, Taran. I know you're a good dragon."

Taran looks down at the gesture, not sure at what to do. When Sven jiggles his palm a bit, the dragon reaches forward with his own arm, vaguely offering his hand to Sven. The boy grasps one of the large fingers and shakes it as vigorously as his small body will allow. Smiling, the boy lowers his arm and ambles over to the dragon, offering something more comprehensible to Taran: a hug. The dragon embraces his little friend gently, very much assured of the boy's trust now.

When their time together has passed and Sven packs his tome into his bag, Taran bids him goodbye.

"Fare you well, little friend with a book,
but next time, kindly bring something,
with a more favorable outlook."