What?!

“Look, I have all this gold, but I don’t know what to do with it anymore. I thought I’d let it be, because it can be valuable…” The dragon looked at its mother, a much bigger dragon. They were lying in their den of a home, the pretty deep fuchsia female dragon looking at the much younger dragon like he had been told a thousand times that gold did not just survive; it would be stolen. Did he want that?

Besides, the gold had just come from somewhere. He didn’t even know where. It just…showed up.    

“No.”    

“Then make it useful.”

“But—”

“Just figure it out yourself!”

The dragon left, his huge, lumbering body (which took up one third of the cave) relocating to a much bigger cave. His father lay on the even bigger soft plushy couch. He was reading a book. It wasn’t English, but he smiled, seeming to enjoy it.

“Dad,” the dragon stole his father’s eye, which had jerked irritably up at him. “You know I can’t speak Dragoon. I’m not even fluent. So I’m going to ask you what you think of me using my gold for good—”

“Just do something.” His father returned to the book.

“How?”

“Dragon, one day, your mother and I will not be here. What will you do?”

His father never used his name, Swallows. His mother never used it. They never hugged or kissed him goodnight. They simply told him what to do. And get used to it. Or else.

“Now listen to us.” The dragon father spoke in Dragoon.

“What does that mean—”      

“FIGURE IT OUT!”

The dragon turned tail. Soaring high, he squinted for some light in the night sky. Finally, he returned to his pile of gold—which was right next to his sleeping mother. The dragon quietly scooped it up. “Now,” he whispered, “I must make good use of you. Please—just be good for me, okay?”    

“Who are you talking to?”

The dragon’s tail thumped against the cave wall he was so startled. “Who was that?”

“It’s me!”

“Monty, don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Monty rolled his eyes. “Yes! I startled you out of complaining for once.”

The dragons flew away from the cave, Monty hushing the dragon before he even got one word of “But please!” out of his mouth. Monty won this time.    

“Why can’t you just take it with you? Once the moon shines on your cave, it’s a new home for you. You’ll meet another dragon, and you’ll have to get married, and then you’ll be together. Use the gold for good—”

As Monty supportively talked about the gold, the dragon listened, and then thought about how he would meet another dragon. Would she take the gold? No, he’d want to impress her. He got an idea when they were on the beach together. Looking over at a group of dragons playing a game together (for the females were magenta, ruby, sapphire or sunshine yellow, and the males were blood-red, evergreen, onyx or jasmine), the dragon smiled smugly.

“I’ll be right back. Those dragons can use the gold for their game!”

“You can make it into a golden dragon cave!”  

Monty yanked him back, ripping off a scale. The dragon roared and then winced.

“Monty! My parents aren’t the cave—it’s for them!”

The dragon’s eyelids blinked and then closed as he lay there while the medic—having flown him to the nearby hospital—performed surgery on the descaled shoulder bone. Monty tearfully begged forgiveness after the dragon awoke, but Monty immediately escaped when the dragon blew fire, eradicating almost half of the gigantic hospital. When he returned, Monty watched as the medic put him safely in his cave. After instructing his parents to keep the dragon isolated here in the cave for some weeks, the medic promised he’d never take gold from other dragons: he’d only work for money. He had a penchant for gold.

“Please! It’s a lot. If you don’t, my parents will be irritated. They’re always telling me to figure it out—no talks, no comfort. Orders thrown around.”

The medic nodded reassuringly, pitying him. But then he flew away, the dragon blinking back tears. As his parents grumbled every time it was their turn to freaking replace the ice or bandage the wound, the dragon said they were really helping matters. Letting him ignore them. They just told him to close his mouth and keep still as, they reminded him, he was being cared for.

Throughout the next few weeks, the dragon begged Monty to take the stupid hoard of gold. The dragon also told his parents he was using it for good—he was giving it all to Monty.

“Is he taking it?”

After Monty said no, the dragon’s parents continued with their grumbling—before the dragon threatened to leave. The parents said they wouldn’t tend to the wound, which would only make the wound worse.

Fine! The dragon thought one afternoon. I’ll put it to good use. He buried it. One dragon’s trash is another dragon’s treasure.

500 years later…

“Hey, Monty!”

“Yeah?”

“Gold!”

The dragon laughed. “Like yours from half a millennium ago?”

The dragon shrugged.

“Someone’s gold?” Monty pressed playfully. “I think it’s that emerald dragon’s gold.”

The dragon peered closer. “Yeah! That was mine a long, long time ago.”

“Swallows, wake up!”

He did. He saw a little character—a small gold-colored, cheerful-smiling dragon amongst the gold.

“Hey,” it whispered. “Let’s get rid of this stuff!”

“Well…” The dragon rose his great head, but the little dragon merely watched it almost hit the cave’s roof. “I need it for my dragon cave. My parents would be proud if I make it a golden dragon cave!”

“Wow!” The little dragon scrambled out from under the coins and blocks. It, which claimed was a ‘he’, nodded, paws on hips as his scrawny, sunshine yellow frame stood up straight. “I know where to put it. In the volcano. We’re small but we’re strong. Very strong. We’re poor in resources, but rich in strength!”

“Lead the way. And…can you return my lost scale? My friend ripped off one at the beach. Could you heal me?”

“Yep!”

The dragon hobbled along outside the cave, the cute dragon leading him up into the sky and towards what the dragon said was his volcano.

“How do you know my name?”

“It’s us. We’re the Secrets. The dragons who know everything. Especially those who need help.”

The dragon pulled a smug smile, starting to boast of his brute strength.

“It’s not far!” The dragon interrupted, and soared through the sky after extending his wickedly sharp-tipped wings. “Whee! This is fun.”

The dragon tried, but he then cried out. “Can Monty, my friend, come?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t want to disturb the peace.”

“What peace?”

The stars twinkled above, the clouds passing by around and through them and the lights of a city below. The dragon felt even with all this, it was too dark. So what peace? Then he suddenly remembered the gold. “Wait! The gold.”

“You’ll see.”

Suddenly, he saw a volcano. It glowed blue, and then red, and then yellow, and then green. Then the light went out. The dragon gasped, but the small dragon explained that the volcano was good—it allowed the dragons to get rid of anything they didn’t need.

“Like what?”

“Like gold, or silver, or bronze. Or trash.”

“But what’s the light coming from?”

“The different elements of fire. You see,” he said as they approached and then sat down on the rim of the volcano just like other small dragons encircling the inside (all similar beautiful colors as the dragon and the other humongous dragons like him). “We shoot flames of fire—either blue, yellow, green or red—into the middle.”

This dragon’s voice was annoying. It reminded the dragon of those Dr. Seuss characters who were always cheerful to the point where the main character was forced to sing along with its sugary-colored friend. Then, at the end, the character who was annoyed wasn’t so annoyed—they were accepting.

Well, if that ever happens to me, I’m drowning myself.

The small dragon dropped its smile, and looked up wonderingly. “Huh? You’ll kill yourself because of me?”

“No, no!” The dragon tried, but he only caused the attention of the other dragons to shift from the stuff burning in the middle of the volcano to him. He spread an embarrassed smile, but the dragons didn’t buy it. Immediately, he roared, ropes from all angles latching onto him. Fighting the ropes, he soon failed, and then lay still.

“Mom, Dad, Monty, if I’m not back, look for me…”

The dragon closed his eyes, letting the ropes throw him into the pit. Whatever they did to him, he didn’t say or do anything back. The small dragon said to look. He slowly opened his eyes. The gold from in his cave slowly succumbed as well—it melted from the apparent heat of the blue fire. Then it became blood-red. Was it turning into a dragon? The dragon peered closer, stretching his neck. “What’s…?”

“Shush!”

The dragon obeyed, watching. The gold became a huge bar of gold, and then he watched it being lifted into the sky—”We’re a lot stronger than we look!” the small dragon boasted—and then watched it shatter into a million golden pieces. The dragon gasped—they looked like glass. It would cut someone! His mind racing, the dragon—

“Watch!”

One of the golden pieces was placed on the dragon’s descaled shoulders. He roared.

“See?” The small dragon bellowed over the ear-splittingly loud noise. “We use the trash, and turn it into treasure.”

The dragon smiled stiffly. “Thanks…”

“I don’t have a name. It’s just that I’m a gold dragon.” The dragon flew up and announced that he had a friend. “Hey, everyone! I brought Swallows!” Then he called for some guards, who threw more ropes around him, and the dragon let the other dragons drag him down to the surface.

I die, I die.

The dragon closed his eyes for the final time, and let it be.

“Swallows. Swallows!”

“Huh!” The dragon jerked his head up, yelling ow as he bumped his head against the roof of his cave. He blinked. “Yeah?”

“Swallows, you weren’t going to die. I just wanted you to hope you weren’t going to be so negative after all.”

“Well, you don’t know the half of it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The dragon said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Memories?”

“Yeah. Of them.”

“Memories are images of the past. I don’t want you tortured—”

“Yeah, well,” the dragon said, “They’re all I have. I need my…my parents.” The dragon tried finding a mirror, but then ordered for one. “Where’s a mirror? I can stare at the gold all I want!”

“I’m sorry. We can’t let the dragons into the House of Glass.”

“Please!”

“No—”

“Fine!”

The dragon escaped, slithering out of the cave. Once he flew a few miles, he didn’t see anything resembling what might be called a House of Glass. When something shone in the distance, he headed for it. There was a city below somewhere. Maybe this is it. My parents are in that gold. I must have it back. The dragon flew straight for the, hopefully, House of Glass, but the dragon soon found himself in the clutches of— 

“Get him, boys! We’ll have dragon’s blood for all our curtains! Our mansions will be complete once this gold decorates—”

The raw screeching cackle of a woman dressed as a bandit (or so the dragon’s real mother said they were those) iced the dragon’s spine. He lay perfectly still, but then thrashed and kicked against such evil. The poachers! His parents would be proud of…

He didn’t know what they’d be proud of. Dying and then being with them, or escaping and blasting these fools with their son’s radiantly red fire? No, the volcano. The dragon howled for the small dragon to come and free him along with all the other dragons, but the small dragon wasn’t coming. The dragon soon fell asleep after roaring as a dart struck him in the leg. Losing vision, his eyelids soon closed…

“Swallows! Time to eat!”

“Huh!”

The dragon jerked his head up, but instead of a cave (even his parents’ cave), it was a huge cave. A monster of a cage. His eyes flashing and tail thrashing, the dragon blew fire as hard as he could, but the fire didn’t burn down the cage. Rather, the dragon got electrocuted whenever he fought the cage. Exhausted, the dragon dropped as if dead to the ground. Someone approached him, and he winced as something sharp jabbed him.

“Hungry, huh? Scared, dragon?”

The dragon didn’t answer. Someone called me ‘Swallows.’ And told me to eat. I wasn’t dreaming. Then his eyes flashed open. He blinked his fear away and then asked the evil person whether the stick was to kill him.

The person cackled and dashed away, boasting of the delicious meat his parents had made. The dragon’s blood boiled, but he did and said nothing. He looked up into the night sky. Mom, Dad. Wherever you are, please know I’m ready to join you.

The dragon was sold to the poachers as a slave dragon, being whipped and poked at. Blood poured. The dragon almost quit resisting to fight, but he knew they wanted him angry. Mad. Raging. So livid his parents died in such a horrible so-called accident. Once, he came close to burning a woman for raising a glass to all who wanted to dance with her around the fire where her eyes widened in glee as the dragon’s parents were burned.

Where’s that small dragon? Did they set this up? Is that why that dragon told me not to go to the House of Glass? The dragon distracted himself with his thoughts. That’d defend him from their tactics. Evil ways on testing him. He waited. And waited.

Months went by. The dragon looked up to the night sky. Mom, Dad. Are you there? I sure hope so, because Mom and Dad aren’t—and never were!

The dragon waited some more, but then roasted some poachers who brought out his parents’ scales—all beautiful handbags, purses, pillows and jackets. They danced around the campfire and sang proudly of their deliciously gorgeous…

“Gold!”

The dragon grit his teeth so hard it hurt. No—I need that gold! It’s for my dragon cave!

Suddenly, a whistling sound was made. The dragon looked around, but saw no one. He waited. No one came. Then the whistling sound happened again.

“What’s that?”

“Huh?”

“Who’s whistling?”

The guards asked around for about an hour, but no one could figure it out.

The dragon chuckled, laughed and then fell on his belly, having the time of his life. Stupid poachers. They’ll never know! I think it’s that dragon and his army.

The dragon waited. The whistling sounded, and, though the dragon wasn’t sure, he hoped it was them. He felt it was them.

Glass fell from the sky, it seemed. The poachers screamed, the glass falling onto them, they dancing like monkeys, acting like apes to escape the glass. The dragon couldn’t help it, he was laughing so hard. The glass didn’t hit him. He merely pounded his fisted paw on the bottom of the cage again and again. Soon, he could see his reflection. “Mom, Dad, you see? They’re—”

“Swallows!”

The dragon bounced right up, looking around for the small dragon.

“I’m here, I’m here!” The dragon rattled the cage.

No answer.

The dragon pounded the cage.

A minute or two later, something landed on his shoulder.

“Tiny dragon!” The dragon blinked back tears of joy.

The small dragon’s eyes shone. And he nodded encouragingly.

The dragon grabbed each side of a square of cage, and pulled. He saw the metal breaking, and then finally, he tore right through. “I’m free!” The dragon celebrated with a whoop and a swirl in the air as he watched the small dragon smile (cheerfully) and congratulate him.

“Thanks—”

The small dragon pointed.

Everywhere, glass had fell, it had pinned the poachers to the ground. Their bodies weren’t hurt; just their clothing. The small dragon flew the gold articles to the volcano. As he watched them being thrown away, the dragon didn’t go after the gold.

“There you go!” The small dragon returned to him, smiling cheerily up at him, dimples showing.

But the dragon watched the gold boil. Boil to ashes.

Sensing he was going to fly away, the small dragon defended himself. “No, no!” He pleaded. “No. That gold you’ve been hiding wasn’t your parents. It was mere gold. It wasn’t even the House of Glass. That thing is just a metaphor—it’s not even real. Besides, even if it was, you couldn’t go. No memories allowed. I just don’t want you to be tortured.”

But the dragon wasn’t even listening. He couldn’t.

“You’re not happy?”

The dragon wished the poachers endured the same fate. “Just burn those evil people. And heal my wound!”

“Yes, sir.” The dragon sighed, but then growled he wasn’t being treated right. “You’re a hypocrite! You remind me of your adopted parents. I bet you even studied them, because you’re acting just like them.”

“How do you know that—”

The dragon shook his head. He remembered that the small dragon knew everything. He sighed. “Look—I’m sorry.” He even swallowed. Let’s hope all this wasn’t a dream. Or was it? The dragon gulped, and shivered. He hoped he didn’t wake up in his cave all over again.

But the small dragon had already flown away.

When he returned, the small dragon assured him he could always come back.

The dragon answered.

And smiled.

Cheerily.