Emerging Courageous Online Magazine - Stories
A Slayer of Dragons
by Paul Landis
Delaune
When I was a lad in that stage of life between
childhood and manhood, I
dreamed of becoming a slayer of dragons. There was no quest more heroic
than
besieging the gates of Hell and standing bravely as a horde of soulless
monstrosities bore down upon me breathing fire and brimstone. I envisioned
my
blade singing as its razor-edge cut through the moonless night to plunge through
impenetrable scales, reeking flesh and bones of steel before piercing a dozen
evil, black hearts. Fierce would be the onslaught, but fiercer would my
sword
streak to quench its insatiable thirst for bloody victory after bloody victory
as my mocking laughter echoed through the Stygian lair of demons.
Little did I realize that the hands of Fate were busy
bringing my dreams to
fruition. On a sunny, innocent morn, Hell waylaid me on the crossroads of
eternity and into its depths were all my hopes and dreams cast into the lake of
fire. Oh, the flames! The flames burned! Fingers of fire
licked at the sinews
of my soul and my spirit's tongue begged to be cooled. The agony tore my
heart
asunder and sucked the marrow of life from my bones. I cursed my Maker and
yearned to return to the womb of my birth. But all my pleas were for
naught.
Here in this realm of fear, insanity became my
companion and loneliness my
lover. 'Tis true they were my sorrow, but 'tis true they were my mentors
as
well. Cruel were their lessons and merciless their punishment. They
knew
precisely where the most fragile places of my psyche were and countless fiery
darts found a home in my torment. Often my soul writhed in hopeless pain
as
they delighted in my silent shrieks of despair.
I learned my lessons well and in my darkness of fear
and sorrow a sword was
forged in my soul. In the flames that tormented me, the Master refiner was
busy
extracting iron from useless ore and steel from molten iron. My pain became the
anvil upon which the hammer of experience pounded. The pounding went on day
after day, month after month, year after year. Within the darkness suffocating
my dreams, sparks of hope sprayed bright.
It came to pass the nightmare became the dream, the
dream dreamed in a past
almost forgotten. T'was an eternal moment when the victim became the master and
the blade of wisdom sprung from the lips of Hell like a stag in quest of its
mate. I gutted the dragon of fear from the inside out and then I turned to face
fear's brethren. My eyes burned with divine fire as my soul, bearing the armor
of faith, strode through fear's minions and in Spirit's light the boy
experienced his own personal ritual to manhood.
I am not finished slaying the dragons that appear in my
life. The are born
of the darkness that still languishes within me, for fear is always but a step
away, a serpent ever waiting to poison my mind with doubt and longing. Always
vigilant must I be, keeping near my armor of faith, my blade of wisdom, which is
kept sharp by my knowledge of self, and my inner focus on the voice of Spirit.
Eternity is nigh.