#lendad

Len drew his hand back from his sons burning brow, “Well this just shows that you can’t try out your experimental ‘self heating’ coat in the middle of winter and expect to not get sick.”

The nine year old glared up at him with feverish watery eyes before dropping his head back onto his pillow “It would of worked.” He whined

“Maybe, if you hadn’t decided to roll around in the snow. “You’re lucky April didn’t get sick too.” Len offers his child a soft smile that Don doesn’t reciprocate to its fullest. He took up the washcloth from the bowl of water on the nightstand and placed it on Don’s warm brow. Despite the pout on Don’s face, the worry lines fade away at the cool cloth. He looked so relaxed that Len had thought he had fallen asleep before Don whispered, “Can you tell me a story?”

Not a unusual request, and though Don should be sleeping Len has a hard time telling him no (atleast when Don’s already feeling miserable) “Alright kiddo.” He said laying by Dons side. The sick child immediately curled up into his side. Len put a arm around Don to let him rest his head on his chest, “Which one do you want to hear, baby boy? The Fable of Night and Day? The Revenge of the Baron? The Fugitive Knight?”

“The Blacksmith and Dragon.”

Len smiled at Donnie, “Of course you’d want to hear that one.” He settled down into the bed making sure Don was covered up under his thick quilt, “Alright kiddo, it all began long ago. As most things do because nothing cool ever happens in the present.” He said making Don giggle,

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To be a kind is a great and powerful thing. And no one understood this better then the Blacksmith, though skilled and capable, they were also wise and humble friend to all. They did not have any family bound by blood, but they always had a smile on their face whenever they handed out their tools or weapons to patrons. Never accepting any payment other then trading for food or a conversation. Or sometimes nothing at all

One day a tall and beautiful man in shining armor came to the Blacksmiths tiny workshop and demanded a weapon strong enough to slay a dragon.  But the Blacksmith asked, “Why would you want to do that? Dragons are kind and wise, they breath fire on the sun in morning to give us the day and kiss the moon in the evening to give us night.

The mighty warrior scoffed at the Blacksmith, but explained that there was a fierce and powerful dragon  who lived out he east. Whose roars had the country side cowering in terror, and slayed everyone sent to fight it. So again the warrior demanded a weapon to fight his mighty battle with.

The Blacksmith, maker of swords and fine weapons, went through their shop  for such a  weapon. And came back with a small ocarina in their hands, saying this was the only weapon that could beat a dragon

The warrior, thinking the Blacksmith was playing him for a  fool,  stormed off without the instrument. Declaring to face the dragon himself with what he had.

He did not return

Not too long after, The Blacksmith heard a mighty march by the village. A army led by the Baron was coming to defeat the dragon themselves. But the Blacksmith stepped in the path of the army and, and knelt before the Baron, promising they could beat the dragon alone.

The Baron laughed, but was so amused at the Blacksmiths proclamation he decided to give them a chance.  But if they failed, not only would the Blacksmiths life be forfeit, but so would the villages.

So they, armed with nothing but their ocarina, traveled to the Roaring Mountain. The moment they stepped on the it’s soil, it was consumed with a mighty and angry roar. But the Blacksmith took out their ocarina and began o play a soft melody. Causing the loud roar to fade away. The Blacksmith continued their way up the mountain with their song, until they came across the Dragons’ den, but instead of a fierce beast, there lay a a tired old scarred dragon whose mighty scales were covered in soot and dirt from a long painful life. Unafraid, the Blacksmith approached, and sat in front of the dragon “Hello friend,” they began softly, “Why are you so sad?”

“I am the last of my kin, my family, there are none left other then me,” The dragon wept, “I am alone.”

“How can you be alone if I am right here?” The Blacksmith asked, “How can I help?”

The dragon shuffled her wings wrapped in cobwebs, it had been so long since someone had had asked her that question she was unsure how to answer, “Can you please play that song for me again?” She asked, “It has been a long time since I heard anything that beautiful. You are the first visitor that has not tried to kill me in many many years.”

The Blacksmith smiled and played the song for them not once, but many times. Until the Dragon began to smile softly, then they hauled up water from a nearby stream and washed the dragons bloodstained scales  and tangled wings. All the while the dragon told the Blacksmith stories of her family and her long life.

Finally the dragon stood tall and powerful  as it ever had before. Grateful, the dragon she asked the Blacksmith their name. But the Blacksmith replied that they had never had a name, since they never had a family. That they were all alone in the world

“How can you be alone if I’m standing right here?” The Dragon asked, “You gave me the gift of hope, I would like to bestow upon you my name, so that you may join my clan and that our friendship may never die.”

And with that , the newly named Yukimura was bestowed a single dragon’s claw.

Yukimura the Blacksmith went home and from the claw forged a hooked staff unlike any other. Yukimura would visit the dragon up on the mountain, eventually bringing along their partner and children everyday, and the dragon would visit the family greeted by cheers and smiles until Yukimura’s body grew old and gave out.  Then the dragon left the mountain and took her old friend in her arms for one last flight. Before they left Yukimura the Blacksmith gave their hooked staff to their first born child. A staff whose true potential could only be summoned by a true Yukimura, a child of a dragon and of kindness.

As for the two friends, neither of them were seen again. Some say the dragon never returned to the mountain, but instead flies high in their mystic sky. And that if you ever hear singing without anyone around, it means the dragon is honoring of her old friend.  

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“That’s grandma’s staff right?”

Len nodded ,” Yup.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a familiar wooden handle, “It’s been in our family for generations. One day it’ll be yours.”

“But.” Don paused, Len could see his toes wiggle uncertainly under his blanket, “I’m adopted.” He said with no small amount of remorse. Len  gave his son a soft smile, “You’re still my son. And the staff knows that.”