BEFORE (1)

"Tell me a story, Karo."

A tall youth turned to the dark haired boy unamusedly, raising an eyebrow. "Again? Seriously?"

The boy with the scarf too big for him grinned. "Its the only interesting one you could ever do. Some traveller you are. Can't even light a damn fire."

Karo moaned in exasperation, glaring at the boy opposite him, before dropping himself down to the floor, sitting cross legged so the flickers of the firelight caught his face at an angle, illuminating him in a mysterious light. Such a position had probably been chronicled in the rule-book for storytellers, being a requirement for all storytellers to know. At least, at times it seemed so.

The dark haired boy smirked and took up a mockingly similar position opposite the storyteller, on the other side of the fire. Karo glared at him, which was returned with a shrug, and a gesture to get a move on!

So with a cough, and the straightening of posture, Karo began.

"They say there's a dragon, on top of the Mountain."

"Yo!" Complained the sole listener in exaggerated outrage. "Where's the introduction? I wanna hear a 'once upon a time'-"

"Shut up. I tell the story, my way."

There was a pause, before he continued. "It is said the dragon is powerful, and his strength and might is indomitable, and unparalleled across the world. He is the paragon of strength, the peak of strength. He is strength, personified."

"It's a dragon. How can it be 'personified'-"

"Do you want to hear the damn story or not?" There was a silence. "Good. Well then… The world saw his presence a threat, a challenge to their power. Many of the strongest warriors, the greatest minds and the greatest kings would seek out this dragon, thirsting for this power possessed by him. For it was also said, that with the meeting of the dragon, one would be granted a wish. A wish for anything, to use for better or for worse."

"I don't get it." Karo made to interrupt the boy again, but hesitated. "Why would this dragon give out a wish to any random man that meets him? Is he mentally disabled? Has he got issues?"

"Doubtful." Came the dry reply. "It is not known why, the dragon is made to fill out such an obligation. All that is known, is that he has to, and is bound to do so by the contract of the Mountain."

"… Go on."

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"If you insist, my rude and impatient friend." Another cough. "Long ago, before the renown of the dragon was widespread, and none knew of him – though his strength was not diminished by much at all – the dragon came upon a mountain. This mountain was… unlike other mountains. For, you see, the dragon, in all his youthful splendour and arrogance, could not see the peak of the mountain."

"But," Came another interruption, "Does the dragon not have wings? Why didn't he just fly up?"

It seemed that the boy was getting into the story. His eyes were lit up, and he listed to the reply with rapt attention.

Karo grinned at his expression. "Ah, but he did. He flew up and up, higher and higher, past the clouds and all that lay beyond. But to no avail. And after weeks, the dragon returned, in defeat."

"So why do they say there is a dragon on top of the Mountain?"

"And when the dragon returned," Karo continued in faux-ignorance, "at the foot of the mountain, he came across a passageway."

The boy was sitting up, listening carefully to every word.

"And at the end of this passageway, was a door. A door, into the mountain."

"How could a mountain have a door?" Retorted the boy sceptically, his curious expression contrasting his tone, betraying his interest.

He got no reply. "Meditating in front of the door of massive proportions, was the guardian of the mountain."

"No one knows what conversation those two great beings had, on the doorstep of the Mountain. But, in the aftermath, the guardian came away with a smirk and a contract signed in blood, and opened the door to the dragon.

The dragon tore up the mountain, cutting through its inhabitants, reaching higher and higher, until at last, he reached the top. And he remains there, to this day, a shadow over the Mountain."

"Why did he stay there? What was on the contract?" Asked the boy in frustration. "Such a rubbish story. So many loose ends."

Karo stared daggers at the boy. "But that is not the end of the story. For many, many years later, a group of travellers chanced upon a passageway, hidden away by the years. And through the passageway, still in meditation in front of the door, sat the guardian.

It is said that the guardian showed them the contract, all but one entered immediately. Because it wasn't any group of travellers. It was a band of warriors, of youths, of explorers, who hungered for a challenge to their strength.

They say the final man, with a smile on his face, refused the offer. He waved away his friends, and played a game of cards with the guardian. And he left, because he knew, that with his strength, he could beat the guardian, and the Mountain, no longer seemed a challenge to him."

"So? What happened to him?" The boy snapped out of his attention, and asked eagerly, no longer hiding his enthusiasm.

"The man returned to his kingdom, for he was a prince, and spread the story far and wide, and became the first storyteller. And that is how storytellers came to be."

"..." The boy looked at the youth opposite him, who sat in a smug arrogance, revelling in what he personally considered a story well told.

"What?"

"Is it true?"

Karo turned his head slowly, facing away from the boy. "The world holds many strange and mysterious things."

They sat there in a companionable silence, for a long time, both staring up at the boundless starry skies above them, watching their twinkling freedom with wide eyes.

"That wasn't an answer."

"I know."

The two sat in their ring of warmth, somewhat comforted by the snow, still falling around their fire with unabated persistence. Karo adjusted the rim of his hat, covering his eyes, and the boy brought his red scarf up over his nose. And although they had no one, both were satisfied.