I insisted on eating with the servants to avoid having too much attention brought to myself. Afterwards I was brought once more to their study. The fire was crackling and my two audience members were comfortable and ready to hear my tale.

‘Let me tell you why I’ve chosen to live in a mortal form.’

There once were dragons. Powerful primordial beings made to defend the world from the dangers that would come. Each time they went to save the world they would be taken by the Slumber. An exhaustion so great that they would sleep for decades recovering from the titanic tolls the fighting would take on them. This is a tale of one such dragon trying to slumber in peace.

High in a mountain top a dragon slumbered. His wings wrapped around him that had images shifted and changed on them. A living portrayal of their dreams. The people that lived in the lands below had carved homes out of the mountain side. For generations the dragon had helped shape the crude language that had existed into a much more structured motion of the hands and more structured sounds made by mouth.

It had become custom for the people to go on a pilgrimage up the mountain and tell the dragon their stories. Legend was that a great enough tale would wake the dragon from his slumber and he would return to the people. The stories grew more and more outlandish and about the gods and their desires.

Amongst the people there was a long loved line of storytellers. A sacred place in the hierarchy of the people. However they believed that there were no tales that the dragon did not know. However a great feast was taking place when a little girl wandered off. She had wanted to see the dragon for all her life. She climbed the mountain and arrived at the plateau the dragon slumbered upon.

With great excitement she jumped up and down squealing with joy at seeing such a majestic being. There was no fear in her as she climbed and walked along the dragon looking at all the offerings left by her people. To her amazement the dragon shifted below her.

One massive hand plucked her from his back and she giggled with happiness as he placed her before his eyes and studied her in the moonlight. He slowly began to sign and speak with her. “Why disturb, leave offering go?”

Again she clapped and squatted down, she began to frantically sign, “You tell tales? Come down, people want you. Mother grows old.”

The dragon shifted and yawned, exposing dozens of razor sharp teeth before standing to go down with her, willing to go along with the girl's request, for no one had ever asked him to tell them a story in decades. He was aware of those that visited and he listened to their tales best he could without seeing the signs.

Before he could take a step the girl waved her arms and caught his attention. Calling him to lower his head and look closer at her. She began to sign once more, “Can you be small? Walk with me? Be like me?”

With a cocked head he began to transform to follow the whims of the child. He shrunk and compressed down first to a small version of himself next to her. Then he walked around and studied her closely, sniffing and measuring her with his eyes. Then he reared back in two legs and his bones shifted one last time as his tail and wings shrunk and folded into his skin. Scales softened but didn’t fade as a close image of the girl now stood before her. Then he opened his arms and gestured at himself proud of his transformation. He paid no attention to the massive sloughing of the pelts and leathers that had been piled and tied to him.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The dragon signed to her, “what am I called now?”

She made an intricate motion that was used to weave baskets and then raised her hands to her throat and spread them wide. “Weaver of tales.”

The dragon nodded and signed once more, “What are you called?”

Her hands plucked as if at berries and placed them in her head. “Gathers Knowing.”

Gathers Knowing walked around the transformed dragon and secured the many things that would cover them and boldly took one of their hands and started walking down the great mountain. Every once in a while she would stop and sign to them about the festival and how it just began and that they should tell tales for everyone.

As they arrived at the gathering the dragon was amazed out how far the people that were under his protection had grown. A hundred more people milled about feasting from a great hunt of scaled water lizards the size of elephants. People hushed as they saw the parchment brown skin of the dragon in field form and flocked around kneeling. Quickly they asked the girl what had happened.

“Weaver became a girl, they wanted to join!” And the hushed people burst into a great cocaphonus celebration. The dragon was escorted to a great rock and as the people went to collect Gathers Knowing from their side Weaver stopped them. Now looming over the people slabs of meat were brought before them. Carefully they thought of their new form was appropriate. Were they a girl now, like the storyteller they knew so long ago? Could they be both? As they thought they picked and tore out long shreds of juicy meat and ate slowly enjoying the food they hadn’t tasted in so long.

Dozens of people began to line up with offerings causing Weaver to stand and approach them. This was one thing they no she could do without. Weaver raised her hands and called far louder than a girl her size could. She signed that no longer would there be offerings. That such things belonged to the people. As the sun set and Gathers Knowing fell asleep Weaver stood and walked to the flame. She shrugged and gathered the people and began to tell the tale of the catastrophe. Of the dragons that fought for them. Weaver smiled wide and danced with the children. After so long in the slumber to be with people once more was a joy she had forgotten.

Time passed as Weaver was with the people, she transformed as Gathers Knowing aged to be her twin. Weaver felt she was inseparable from Gathers. A sadness would come at the end of Gathers’s life but the joy might be worth it. No longer would Weaver be alone on a mountain top. She would be amongst the people.

I placed my lute down and stared into the fire remembering the little girl that had woken me and brought be such joy.

Duke Ursal with the curiosity of a child asked, “why aren’t you a girl anymore?”

I looked at him with a warm smile, “These lands aren’t as accepting of women as other cultures are. Women here are subservient and expected to play a part in home making. I’ve spent lifetimes doing such things and they were the most joyous and fulfilling years of my life. However, I need more than anything to find other dragons. To grow strong enough.”

The Duchess spoke, “Why do you need to be strong? You saved the people and destroyed a demon? Can’t we save ourselves?”

I looked at the fire and heard the screams of pain from the people that followed me to a calamity. They helped so little without magic, and with magic they turned on the dragons. “I wouldn’t think about it if I were you. Enjoy your life, you won’t be here when the calamity comes.”