In Memorium/The Mixed Blessing

by Kimber

Since time immemorial, things in the universe have changed. Some changes are for the good, some for the bad but each in their own way is important. Even the smallest of changes, such as the end of the Minuscule War between the Faeries and the Pixies, had it's own unique impact on the world as a whole. Somehow, though, to our little village, all the changes that have come and gone pale in comparison to the one we knew was inevitable in our own back yard.

In general, when you know an event is going to take place there is less notice taken of it when it actually happens. But in this case, the event itself was too awesome to ignore. After so many years of terror/pride, our dragon finally died.

Not that he was any great personality to have around, mind you. I will be the first one to admit that I've had my haystacks burned more than once in the course of one of his temper tantrums, and I had to sacrifice my daughter to him three summers ago because of the drought. It's just that not many villages in the world can claim to have their own dragon anymore.

We tried to hire a knight once, early on, to slay the beast, but we never saw him again after he entered the cave. It's not that we're soft or cowardly but knights are expensive these days and the dragon is constantly burning our crops anyway... So we all gave up and settled into our questionable fate.

This is not to say that the dragon was without redeeming qualities. He was an excellent conversation piece at the Solstice Fair and every year we had a fabulous celebration to choose a sacrifice. He made clearing a field the quickest of chores. Simply stand in the area, yell, wave your arms about frantically and he would fly over burning a 10 foot wide swath with every pass.

But alas, he finally died of old age. As I said, we all knew it was going to happen so we prepared. We sent for the local minstrel troupe from the next village who took news of the pending event far and wide throughout the province. Everyone showed up for the funeral celebration, even the king, who had too much dandelion wine and declared it a national holiday.

Toward midnight, when the party was breaking up, we all gathered round the mouth of the cave to decide what to do with the corpse. After much deliberation, which included parceling it out for fertilizer, the mayor of our village, who hadn't said much of anything the entire night stood up and quietly proclaimed...

"Tomorrow is the taxidermists birthday."