Once upon a time there was a young human boy who lived in a village. Next to the village was a hill, where every day the boy would bring a flock of sheep to graze. He was a shepherd boy and he herded sheep. All he had to do was sit around all day and watch the sheep, and there wasn't much else for him to do.

One day, the boy got bored of staring at the sheep chewing on grass. To keep himself amused, he took a deep breath and yelled as loud as he could, “Dragon! Dragon! Help, a dragon is stealing sheep!"

Throughout the village there was a huge commotion. All the men and women of the village took up spears, sticks, and whatever weapons they could find, and they all charged up the hill. But when the villagers got to the top of the hill, instead of a dragon they found the shepherd boy laughing his head off.

“Hahaha! You are all silly! There is no dragon!" said the boy. He had made them panic and run up the hill for no reason.

“You should not joke about these things. Do not call dragon if there is no dragon!" the villagers told the boy.

For the rest of the week the boy managed to behave himself, but then on the first day of the next week he got bored again. He remembered how funny it was to make the other villagers run up the hill carrying their heavy spears and sticks, and how annoyed they had looked when they found out he had tricked them. Again he took a deep breath and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Dragon! Help, help! A dragon is stealing sheep! A dragon!"

Once again there was a huge commotion in the village, and once again all the men and women of the village took up their weapons and charged up the hill. But when they came to hilltop there was no dragon, just a boy laughing at them.

“Hahaha! You fell for it again! You are all silly!" said the boy.

This time the villagers were angry. Again they told the boy, “Stop wasting people's time! Do not call dragon if there is no dragon." And then his parents dragged the shepherd boy home by the ear, gave him a good spanking, and sent him to bed without supper.

The next day, the boy remembered his lesson. He behaved himself, quietly minding the sheep and not complaining about how bored he was. Every time he got too bored, he remembered what the villagers had said and he kept quiet.

But suddenly out of nowhere, a dragon swooped down from the clouds and landed on a sheep, before biting down with a jaw full of sharp teeth. The dragon was a huge, mighty creature with broad wings, a long graceful tail, and scales of fiery orange like a sunset. Of course, the boy was terrified out of his wits. He started screaming at the top of his voice, even louder than he had the two previous times. “Dragon! Dragon! Dragon! Dragon! Dragon!" he yelled.

But this time there was no commotion in the village. The villagers looked to each other and shrugged indifferently. They had been tricked twice and they did not want to be tricked again. No one grabbed their weapons, and no one ran up the hill to help the boy.

That evening, the villagers wondered why the boy hadn't brought the flock back down the hill. They went up the hill to find him. At the top of the hill, they found the shepherd boy panicked and sobbing. “There really was a dragon! I called, but no one came to chase it off. It killed a sheep, and all the others in the flock have run away!" he explained, with tears in his eyes.

But it was too late—the sun had almost set and there was nothing to be done. As all the villagers walked back down the hill, the boy's wise old grandfather tried to comfort him. “We'll all look for the sheep tomorrow morning. Oh, you silly little boy." The old man put his arm around the boy's shoulders. “You need to learn—no one will believe what a liar says, even if he's telling the truth!"

THE END.

…OF PART ONE

“Grandpa, the story ends here."

“What? No it doesn't. This story only ends when I say it does."

PART TWO

The next day, all the villagers woke up early in the morning. They picked up their spears, their sticks, and all their weapons, and then they climbed up the hill. At the top of the hill they spread out and searched the forest, looking for the sheep while also keeping an eye out for the dragon. They managed to recapture most of the sheep by noon, but no one had seen any sign of the dragon.

Then suddenly the shepherd boy, who was walking alone, saw something. He spotted the very tip of the dragon's tail, poking out from around a large grove of trees. Immediately he wanted to shout for help, but then he worried that no one would believe him, so he stayed quiet. The boy slowly tiptoed closer, trying to get a good look. When he peeked around the tree, he saw that the dragon was lying curled up next to a small pond and sleeping. This was his chance! He could redeem himself and make amends for angering all the other villagers!

Instead of shouting for help, which would wake up the dragon, the boy was clever and sneaky. He looked around the pond and found a large rock. The rock was as large as he could carry, and it was so heavy he struggled to pick it up even with both arms. Carrying the rock, he slowly approached the dragon. He moved very slowly and patiently, so that he would not make any noise to wake the dragon. When he was right next to the sleeping dragon, he raised the rock high over his head and brought it smashing down on the dragon's head to kill it.

Wham!

But the rock wasn't big enough. A dragon is much bigger than a human, especially a puny young boy with his weak little arms. When the rock crashed into the dragon's head, the blow wasn't lethal. Instead it gave the dragon a huge bruise and cracked the scales right at the spot where the rock had hit her head. The dragon awoke and was absolutely furious. She leapt up in an instant and grabbed the boy with her talons, slamming him back against the ground and pinning him down.

“HELP-HELP-HELP-HELP-HELP-DRAAAAGON!" screamed the boy in his whiny little voice, but there was no one that could help him. The dragon broke the boy's neck with a swift snap and twist of her jaws, and then he screamed no more.

The other villagers had already heard his screams—they ran towards the sound, and when they saw the dragon they all raised their weapons and charged. The dragon turned to them and raised her head. From her maw she spat a wave of fire, which scorched all the humans and melted their weapons. The nearest humans were killed instantly and turned into incinerated corpses, while the ones further away where set ablaze and went around screaming and trailing flame until they died.

The dragon unfurled her mighty wings and leapt into the sky. With strong wingbeats, she flew to the human village and spat fire down on the buildings. All the houses and buildings were set alight, melting and collapsing. Everything was burned down to the ground as she flew back and forth, breathing inferno down on the human village again, and again, and again.

Nothing was left of the human scourge but rubble, ash, and bones. There was only one human who survived—the wise old grandfather. He knew how powerful dragons were and he had warned the other villagers not to anger the dragon, but they were stupid humans and they did not listen. When he saw the dragon flying down from the hill, he immediately ran out of the village and into the forest. The dragon had seen him running away, but she chose to let him live so that he could run to the next town and tell them the story.

Let him run, and let them all fear us.

Thus the humans learned not to meddle in the affairs of the drakken—for their own sakes I hope they never forget this lesson. Let them never forget that our magic is unrivalled and our claws are sharp. None can hope to match our power. Whilst the humans squabble in the mud and bicker, we soar high above the world on outstretched wing.

We are above all.

THE END

“I…I don't think this is how the story went when mother was reading it," said the young hatchling.

Her grandfather closed the storybook and returned it to its place on the bookshelf. “Oh? Well maybe your mother just took out some of the boring bits to make it shorter."

“Grandpa, I've read the book, and I don't think it ever mentions the dragon burning all the humans or turning their village to rubble," replied the hatchling. “I'm pretty sure I'd remember the pictures," she added.

Her grandfather gently scratched her under the chin with a claw, and then he carefully moved her tail off the floor and onto the bedding. “Ah, that's the interesting thing, little one. If you don't like the story in the book, you can just change it to whatever you like," he told her, “So you can dream of a boy learning his lesson and living happily ever after, or dream of a dragon who can spread her wings and fly wherever she wants."

He took the blanket and tucked the hatchling in, then he gave her an affectionate lick on her neck. The hatchling rolled over and shut her eyes, letting out a soft purr as she got comfortable. “Hmrr… Goodnight, grandpa," she chirped.

The old drake gave her one last pat on the head, gently ruffling her neck frill. He stood up and dimmed the room light, then he walked out of her room and started to gently pull the door shut with his tail. “Goodnight, little one. You'll make your own story one day—never stop dreaming."

END