No help needed -- today is all about you my friend

"Hmmm," you think, "That crafty Phoenix definitely has some plot in mind. None the less, if Phoenix won't set the course, I will."

"Let's go for a flight then friend," you say, "See what the world stretches before us today."

You spread your huge wings and leap from the cliff-face, feeling the exhilaration of the air that will never grow old. The freedom of flight is a pleasure that creatures of the ground can never understand. It is not fearful for those who live in the sky, but a feeling of comfort, as though the eddy currents of Earth's rising warmth are a dare to go higher, faster with the breeze. Landing becomes an afterthought, a necessary end to an ultimate release, almost a dare to never come back down.

You let the weight of your body pull you, your wings tucked like the flights of an arrow, for just a moment before raising your head up and flapping with one great wooooossshh...

"Ah," you think, "Free again."

You look over your shoulder and see the fiery wings of Phoenix passing through the Sun, following you in indecision.

"Perhaps that's why Phoenix likes my company so much. Can't decide what to do alone. I want to go to the coast... see if there are any of those ships bringing in goods for the village. I know I just ate, but somehow food on an empty stomach only makes for more hunger. And besides, the wind is easier this way. Maybe even go for a little swim when we get there ((never knew dragons liked to swim did you???)) "

You glance down, your massive shoulders slicing through the clouds, exhaling smoke through your nostrils, a film of tears seeping from your eyes against the torrent of air. The world looks round from this height. The horizon races towards you and continues on, endlessly. Many times when you fly you feel it would be best to never come down, save whence your heart stopped beating and your eyes closed for the last time and your frame fell like a star, on fire, to Mother Earth for the last time. But for now Father Sky holds you in his arms and you perceive your first glimpse of the sea in the distance.

"Flap, flap," pulse your wings, as you look back again for the Phoenix, now far behind.

"Phoenix knows me well enough to follow me to the ocean," you think, " We've gone there many times. Phoenix can't swim like dragons can, but they enjoy foraging on the coast for driftwood and feathers. And besides, if I can get us a ship full of barley I'll hear no complaints."

You drop your head and plummet like a stone... one hundred feet, two hundred, three... spread your wings at the last moment and become still, the smell of salt water in your throat, as you seem to hover, reach out your legs and reluctantly take again to the land.

You have always wondered how it was that you came to be dragon, how it was that you were set down atop that huge pile of gold. That same question falls on your mind each time you set down from flight. And now, as you look at the sea, it burns like the fire within you. DO YOU:




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