Legend of the Stone Dragon
A Word from the Author
A Word from the Author
This story is/was for the 2011 Halloween Contest.
It's an attempt by me to write something outside of my normal writing style.
Enjoy my experimentation and Happy Halloween!
Legend of the Stone Dragon
By: Glek
It is said that, long ago, there lived a young man. He was well known in his village for his crazy ideas, excentric ways, and love of dragons. His fellow villagers put up with him for the sole reason that he was the best source of income for their tiny village. You see, he was an artist of much talent. He could draw, scuplt, and write. People often commissioned him to make great works and pay him incredible sums.
However, one day, a noble came to him to commission him to make a statue of a king slaying a dragon. The artist, never one to turn away from an opportunity to ply his craft, agreed. He worked tirelessly, day and night, to complete the sculpture. When the noble returned, he was greeted by a mighty king slaying a fearsome dragon. The artist called his work "The Death of Darkness". The noble was pleased, and took the statue.
When the noble presented the statue to his king as a gift, it became apparent that something was wrong. For you see, the statue had changed. Now, it was the dragon who was the slayer. The king was enraged, and demanded to know who had created the work. The noble, in terror, directed him to the artist. The king rode out, with knights by his side, to arrest the man who had created the statue.
When the artist was draged in front of the court and shown his work, he simply chuckled and said, "I put my heart into my work, and my work is shaped by my heart." The king became very angry at this cryptic remark and ordered the artist put to death.
The next day, the artist was placed upon the chopping block. The executioner raised his axe and the brought it down. Suddenly, a stony claw reached down from above and crushed him. All looked up to behold the stone drake, carved by the artist, hovering in the air on stone wings. Terror reigned as the drake reached down and snatched up the artist.
When all was over, the king ordered a hunt for the creature and its master. The search roamed high and low but never found the man or the statue. Eventually, the hunt was abandoned. It wasn't until one year later, when the noble who originally commissioned the statue was passing through the village of the artist, that the two were found.
It was a dark night, and the rain was falling. The noble, in his wagon, spotted a stranger on the side of the road. He was dressed in a heavy cloak that hid all his features. The noble stopped his wagon and asked, "Where are you going, stranger, and do you need help?"
A raspy voice replied, "It is not I who needs help. It is you." The stranger pulled back his hood, revealing an obsidian muzzle and two eyes, burning like rubies. The next morning, only blood and some scattered belongings remained.
You see, the artist put his heart into that statue, and in doing so gave it a life of its own. When the artist died, he became one with the art he loved so. It is said that these events happened here, in this very village, one the cold night of October 31st. And it's said that every time this day rolls around, the artist back from his stony lair to hunt for the descendents of the king, who put him to death, and the noble who sealed his fate.
"Wow, is that a real story?" Jason asked in awe.
"Real as real can be." Replied Jason's grandfather. "I heard it from my father, who can trace his family tree back to a noble in the kings court."
"It's just a ghost story, it's not real." Jason's friend, Matt scoffed.
"Make no mistake, it's real. It's said that every time the artist finds a descendent, he takes him to his stony cave and carves a statue. Then he rips out the descendent's heart and seals it in the carving, turning the descendent into a monster like him."
"Yeah right, if you rip someone's heart out, they die. It's basic biology. Come on Jason, we need to get our costumes ready!"
"Alright. Thanks for the story grandpa."
"Your welcome kiddo. Remember to be careful tonight."
"We will be!"
Jason and Matt left the house, heading down the street towards Matt's home. The sun was just starting to set and was creating a wonderful display of color in the sky. The two walked in silence for several minutes before Jason piped up.
"You really think the story isn't true?" Jason asked his friend.
"No, I don't. It's a bunch of nonsense."
Jason considered Matt's reply. The other was older then he was, being in Grade 7 while he was in Grade 6, but Jason could recall Matt's history project on his family tree. Matt had said that he was descend from a noble family, one very important in the king's court. Jason wondered if his grandpa's story had actually scared Matt.
These thoughts took Jason all the way to Matt's home. The two quickly headed to the living room to grab their costumes. Jason was dressed up as a Storm Trooper, since he liked them better then Clone Troopers, and Matt was dressed like a prince. The two snatched their candy bags from the couch and made from the door.
The sun had since set, and there were kids out and about going door to door getting candy. The first several houses that Jason and Matt hit proved to be jackpots, with their owners giving them enough candy to make carrying their bags slightly tiring. Eventually though, their route took them down Stone Street.
"Matt..." Jason said, looking up at the house in front of them.
"Yes?"
"I'm not so sure about this one."
The house in question was a big Victorian style house, make from heavy stone bricks and with an iron fence around the property. No one knew who lived there, although it was clear someone did. The land was well kept and lights could be seen on from time to time. However, not even those who had lived on the street their entire lives knew the owner. The front yard and house were decorated with sculptures of mythical beasts.
"Wuss, come on. No one every goes to this house, so the guy must be loaded with candy."
"We've got lots of candy. Lets just skip this house!"
Jason's plea went unheard, as Matt was already half-way to the house. Jason followed cautiously. The statues seemed to stair into him. He heard Matt ring the door bell. Jason looked up to see movement behind the frosted glass window. The door eased open to reveal a cloaked figure, back light by candles sitting in the hall.
"Trick or treat!" Matt shouted.
"Trick." The figure answered, grabbing Matt by the shoulder and pulling him inside the house. Jason caught a glimpse of stone under the hood as the figure turned.
The door slammed shut and there was the sound of a dead bolt being driven home. Jason stood shocked for several seconds before running, screaming, to his grandfather's house. He pounded the door until the old man opened it, then threw himself into his grandfather's arms, sobbing.
"It got Matt, it got Matt!" Jason cried.
"Calm down, kiddo, who got Matt?"
"The artist." Jason whispered.
"Come on Jason, Matt had it right. It's just a story."
"No it's not! Please, we have to do something! Fast!"
"Okay, okay, just show me where."
Matt looked on in horror as the figure dragged him down into the basement of the house. The hallway had many shelves with small figurines of mythical creatures on them. Matt struggled as the figure dragged him down the stairs. The basement door had several locks, as well as a heavy metal beam layed across it.
"Please sir, I didn't mean any harm!" Matt sobbed.
"Hush, don't make this harder then it has to be." The raspy voice commanded. He left Matt standing on the far side of the basement while he took off his cloak. Underneath that fabric was a black stone body, carved with such skill that it almost seemed real. The creature had a long tail, ending at a rounded tip, large wings whos membranes seemed to shimmer like the were gems, and eyes that glowed like rubies.
"Please! I don't want to be a statue!" Matt cried.
"Statue? Dear boy, what have your parents been telling you?" The figure chuckled. "I stopped doing that long ago, after I realized it wasn't doing me any good... And when I realized I didn't have any more space on my lawn."
"So... You're not goint to kill me?"
"Heavens no! No, no no. That would not do."
"Then why am I here?"
"Well, you're the first person who's come to my door in a very long time. A little company is all I want. Someone to tell me what's happening in the world."
Matt almost jumped with joy. He prided himself on being up to date. He quickly began to tell the artist everything he knew. He talked about the wars in the Middle East, the state of the world economy, the death of Steve Jobs (which set them on a lengthy side topic of Apple). Matt found it hard to tell how much time had passed, and eventually he found he was getting sleepy.
"That's enought for tonight." The artist said. "You look like you could use a break. We'll continue this discussion in the morning, then you can go home."
"Really?" Matt asked, yawning.
"Really really. Now, lie down." The artist commanded, guiding Matt over to a table with a pillow on it.
"O...Okay." Matt said, his head feeling fuzzy.
Matt lay down on the table and promptly passed out.
When Matt woke up, he was being carried by someone much larger then himself. He tried to move, but realized he couldn't even change where he was looking! He began to panic. Suddenly, he felt himself being lifted up. That familiar stone muzzle came into view, and he felt himself set down.
"I ran out of space on my lawn, so I made these shelves. They're much nicer, and I can keep so many more statues on them." The artist chuckled. Matt realized, with growing horror, he had been turned into a tiny statue.
"Now, be a good boy and stay right there." The artist said, pointing a finger. "I'm going to go get to work on my next figurine. Hopefully it will be ready for next Halloween!"