Art Stories: Puff the Magic Dragon
This is a short bromance about Puff the Magic Dragon and a fierce Lord.
“Bring to me my blade,” commands the Lord, his violet cape billowing in court. A terror on wings looms, fueled by caravan tales pressuring the Lord to confront the monster. A grave terror on great wings looms over his land from the summit of the frigid peaks that border his domain. Years of silence had convinced him of the beast’s desire for peace, but the pressures of countless caravan masters gripped with terror and fantastical stories pressure the Lord still. Now, he has taken it upon himself to confront the monster.
Alone in the Blizzard
Alone, he strides atop icy slopes, withstanding blizzard gales, battered yet resolute. Reaching the peak, a colossal serpent coils around evergreen trees, wings casting shadows. Battered and beaten, he reaches the peak. There, coiled about the evergreen trees is a colossal creature. A verdant serpent whose snout rivaled a whale, his black feather wings casting the Lord’s sight into shadow.
The Lord sheathes his blade, meeting the serpent’s gaze. The beast snorts, an orange glow billows, flames dancing. Facing doom, the Lord sits in the snowdrift, understanding dawning. The serpent leers back. The beast snorts, and a deep orange glow billows from his mouth, smog erupting from between his crooked fangs. The Lord, in seeing certain doom, came to understand something, and seats himself down in the snowdrift. The beast’s rage can barely be contained, a wave of flames dancing on his tongue and thirsting to consume the little Lord and the mountain slope behind him.
Bonds Beyond Blades
But the Lord has nothing but kindness. The beast stops short, and begins to speak. They speak for a long while. The dragon learns of the lives of the little ones who grovel at the mountain’s foot. The Lord learns of the great’s dragon’s desire for peace for fear of being slain by roaming adventurers. They share their histories, their songs, their happiness, and their despair. They puff on mystic herbs and laugh the day away. The beast stops short, speaks, and they share stories, history, songs, and laughter. Puffing mystic herbs, they forge an unexpected bond, brothers in an unlikely kinship.
A New Brotherhood: Puff the Magic Dragon and Lord Peter Paul
The Lord returns to his palace atop the dragon’s back, and proudly proclaims: “Bring me not mine blade. There is no blood to be shed. Bring me my bowl of herb, so that I may welcome my new brother!”
Life is fleeting, greed is consuming, but to share one’s love and a puff, is perhaps among life’s greatest treasures.