After the stOrybOOk ends

Lucia DeSilva

After the storybook ends, and the princess has been freed, and the kingdom returns to peace, what does the dragon do? A dragon is not slain by a mere human. A dragon is ancient, allknowing. A deity in her own right. A man made of flesh cannot kill a beast of magic. She truly believed he should have just spoken to her. She wondered what convinced the world of man that she must be fought and slain. She would’ve returned the princess if asked. In fact, originally, she didn’t even know there was a princess. She was simply asked to protect a tower for a month. Though the prince may have moved to violence after speaking, now that she pondered it. She was a terrific beast, in her opinion. With glittering, iridescent scales and large black claws. Eyes as bright as the moon and a wingspan as wide as a village. A great, booming voice and a grace in how she conducted herself.

So, once the story is over, what does she do? She flies.

She flew miles and miles, creating chaos wherever she goes, whether she is aware or not. And when she came back to her cave, with her great hoard of glittering diamonds, she found it empty. Had the witch stolen it? No, the witch knew nature. She did not see value in riches. The witch lived off of herself and herself only. The knight? No, he couldn’t possibly know. The princess? Oh, please. The girl could not last a week outside of a castle.

Unlike how one might expect, the dragon did not rage. She did not cry. She did not accept it nor did she reject it. She crawled into the cave, careful not to blow away the dirt with her breath, and leaned in close to the ground. Tiny, tiny footsteps, small but not small enough to be some sort of child, and something that had been dragged across the ground. She sniffed at them, catching the scent of a human. A human she could not quite identify, but a human all the same. Every human, just as every creature, had its own unique scent.

The dragon, drawing a great breath, spread her wings and ascended into the air. She followed the scent, flying miles and miles, and after roughly an hour of flying she came upon a shack, and a young woman walking toward it. The woman wasn’t much of a unique-looking human, simply wearing a bright red cape. The woman froze, staring up at the dragon. The dragon landed and perched itself on her house, leaning down and leaning close.

“Where is my hoard?” the dragon asked.

“I do not know, Great Dragon!” the woman replied.

“And why do you not know? I have traced the scent back to yourself. I want my hoard back.”

“Why must you have it back?”

“Because I must.”

“But why? What are you to do with such riches but be selfish?”

“Do you truly believe I have any care for the vain world of man? I value my hoard in a way past your money and power. I view it as an extension of myself. Of the things that I love, if that seems so hard to believe. Now give me my hoard.”

“Why should I?”

“It’s been in my possession for several hundred years. It is important to me. It is the bed I sleep on and the object of my interest. If you refuse to understand that, I will take a great breath of air and burn you to ash. Maybe then will man be useful to this world in nourishing the earth.”

“But, Great Dragon, the people have more of a use for this than you!”

“That is not an issue of mine.”

“Have you no sympathy?”

“No. Good day.” The dragon took in a huge breath, causing nearby creatures to desert the forest around her, and gave herself a moment to transform it into fire.

“Great Dragon! Please wait! I will tell you, I will!”

“Where is my hoard?”

“I have stashed it away beneath my home!”

“Good. At least some of you have sense.” The dragon narrowed her eyes, taking her great claws and lifting the house off of its foundations, finding her hoard divided into several bags in a short stone cellar. She took them all into her claw and turned to the woman. “I must remind you that other dragons will not be as nice as me. If you must rouse me, make it important.” She let out a great puff of smoke from her nostrils before she flew off, shaking the trees and displacing the clouds.

A month later, she awoke from a nap to see a small human holding a single coin, hurriedly running out of the cave. The dragon took it by the large red cape on its back.

“What business do you have with me? This is hardly a way to ask for my attention,” she growled. “I do not like to mess in the matters of man.”

“Great Dragon,” the human cried. “I need your help!”

“You are the thief who stole my hoard. What could you possibly want?”

“I am to be betrothed soon!”

“That is no issue.”

“But my betrothed, when he looks at me, he does not see me!”

“I cannot help you.”

“Yes you can! Give me one of your glittering scales, that is all I need! I must make a potion so he looks past my appearance!”

“And what in return?”

“You may have a necklace of pearl on a chain of gold!”

“Fine.” The dragon put the woman down, dislodged a scale from her arm, and placed it before the woman. To the woman, it was the size of a dinner plate. To the dragon, it was pitifully small. The woman curtsied, placing the necklace in front of the dragon, who quickly took it into her hoard. “Now be gone,” she huffed.

And yet the next day, the woman returned. This time she carried a mirror of pure silver, encrusted with gems. The dragon caught her trying to steal back the necklace.

“What?” the dragon hissed, steam blowing from the sides of her mouth.

“I need your help once again, Great Dragon!” the woman cried.

“Make it good, else I will burn you to ash.”

“My betrothed has now begun to show interest in other women!”

“That is your hubris.. You cannot force a man to change by proxy of magic.”

“I need your help! Please! I need a shaving of your horn to make another potion! I cannot live if I am married to a man who does not care for me!”

“And in return?”

“I will give you this mirror!”

“That is fine.”

And so, the dragon gave the woman a shaving of her horn, and sent her off.

Days passed. The woman came back every day, asking for another thing. A tooth, a shaving of the dragon’s claw, a bottle of blood, a tear. In return, the dragon was given a great many things. Brooches, rings, crowns, anything of gold and silver and encrusted in jewels. Every time, it was another one of her woes regarding her love. By this time, the dragon was less lustrous, restless, and always on the watch for the woman. In her long life, the dragon had never been so interested in a human. The woman was a fairly mysterious person. Most humans let the dragon know their entire life story and yet the dragon felt as if she knew nothing of the woman but her personality. In fact, she couldn’t really see how the woman truly looked from her small size compared to the dragon. The woman was kind, tenacious, and while not physically strong, strong in mind and spirit.

“Great dragon!” she heard a voice cry one night. The dragon was just about to sleep, opening up one eye as the woman came running. Now she wore a long, elegant blue dress and was absolutely dripping in jewelry. Her hair was combed and styled, and atop her head was a golden tiara. Had the woman not worn her cloak, the dragon would not have recognized her.

“What do you need? I have nothing left to give you,” the dragon rumbled, closing her eyes again. The woman kept running, collapsing on the ground as she began to sob. The dragon made a drawn-out sigh, lifting her head and resting it on the ground in front of the woman.

“Have you no sense? Reply to me,” she insisted.

“Great dragon—” the woman began.

“Euphemia. That is my name. By this point we are friends enough that you should know what they call me.”

“Euphemia. Tomorrow I am to be married, and yet I know he does not truly love me!”

“And what do I do?”

“Let me stay with you! Please! I cannot bear to live in the castle for one second!”

“The castle?”

“Yes! I am the princess of the Kingdom of Andrea! You guarded me when I was taken into that tower!”

“Is that perhaps how you found me?”

“Yes. When I saw you fly away, I followed in that direction from the castle. At first I wanted your hoard to give to the people, as my own selfish father will not give any of his own, but then he decided that the man who saved me would become my betrothed. That man only came for me by virtue of status! He did not care for me, truly!”

The woman, now known as the princess, buried her face in her hands, sobbing quietly. The dragon watched her, pondering some things for a moment. The dragon finally spoke once the princess began to calm down.

“Go back to the castle. Tomorrow, all will be well,” she said very quietly.

“And what of your payment?” the princess asked.

“Give me your cloak,” the dragon replied. And so, the princess took off her worn red cloak, which the dragon quickly took into her claws.

The next morning, the princess still cried as she was getting ready. While the maids believed she was just so excited she couldn’t contain herself, she was filled with worry as to what would happen—if anything did. She donned her long, lavish gown, placed her crown atop her head, and was sent into the church for her father to walk her down the aisle.

And now she knew, the dragon had done nothing, for her betrothed was standing patiently at the altar. She cast her eyes downward as she was taken beside him, silently pleading with her father not to let her go. The king did not notice nor care. All he was worried about was the marriage status of his oldest daughter, so he may have a secured heir to the throne without issue.

Her betrothed spoke once the king finally left. “This is quite ridiculous, isn’t it? Such a public spectacle,” he whispered. However, he was not himself. That brash, pompous voice was now low, quiet, and rumbling. Almost like the dragon’s voice, but deeper. The princess looked up at him in confusion, and looking back at her were a pair of yellow, lizard-like eyes. The princess could cry all over again, but this time out of happiness. The dragon smiled. “Don’t look so surprised. I was fulfilling a deal I made to a princess,” she said, with a small nod and a wink.