tHE MYSTERIES OF lIFE
OR
sCENES FROM Kingdom of FiltwaTER
ii.
“Well, we’re here.” Although his voice didn’t crack, Torlon’s body shook all over.
“Are you sh-shure that we sh-shouldn’t let sleeping dragons l-lie?” Torlon’s shorter, darker-haired companion and friend Falz was having trouble walking anymore.
“Oh come on, Falz, what makes you think a sleeping dragon would talk much less lie? And even if he didn’t Tell the truth in his sleep, then of course we shouldn’t let him lie. After all, honesty is the best policy.”
Falz sighed at the sight of Torlon’s toothy grin. Torlon had stopped shaking.
“Well, now or never…”
“Better never,” Falz mumbled as Torlon walked into the cave. Falz followed, as well as he could considering his shaky knees. “We sh-should’ve never t-taken that bet, T-torlon. This is d-dangerous.”
“Oh come on, Falz, what’s so dangerous about waking up the oldest creature on the planet and asking him a few questions about the mysteries of life?”
“Torlon, first of all, this is not a creature; it’s a dragon – a sleeping dragon.” Falz’s nerves had calmed down; now that he was sure he was going to be the breakfast of a very old dragon. “Secondly, this dragon is ancient – he’s at least seven centuries old. I don’t know about your grandfather, but my grandfather is only seventy years old, and he’s crankier than one of Sarden’s stupid inventions. This dragon will be at least one hundred times worse. And thirdly, we’ll be waking him up, and we both know what you are like in the morning.”
“Always practical, aren’t you? Where’s your sense of adventure? Don’t you want to know the answers to the mysteries of life? How often do you get to speak to someone who is seven hundred years old? Huh?”
“Someone? Someone? Torlon, this is a dragon. It has teeth the size of my leg, breathes fire and has claws which could rip mountains apart. In short, he’s not going to invite us to breakfast. He may, however, invite us to be breakfast.”
“Oh come on, Falz, don’t be such a worry wart. I’m sure that he’ll be very reasonable.”
The cavern had gotten considerably darker, and Falz heard a thud.
“Hey, did you bring the torches?”
“Of course I brought the torches. After all, I want to know what horrible creature is going to eat me before I die.” There was a spark as Falz lit a first torch and handed it to Torlon. He noticed that there was tear in Torlon’s breeches at the knee. He then lit a torch for himself.
They wandered through the caverns for several moments; their footsteps echoed hollowly off the walls.
“Torlon, do you even know where the dragon is sleeping?”
“Yeah, in these caverns.”
“I meant specifically.”
“Well…uh…no, but how can we miss a creature as large as the dungeon of Filtwater?”
Falz rubbed his forehead and wished that Excedrin had been invented in the thirteenth century.
They wandered around the caverns for a couple of hours, or days or years, who could actually tell, when Torlon finally spoke, “Shhh!”
“I haven’t said…”
“Shhh! You hear that?” whispered Torlon. “Well?” “Why don’t you answer me?”
“You told me ‘Shhh!’”
“So I did. Look! What’s that glittering down there?”
“Liberace’s jacket?” Falz laughed at the confused look on Torlon’s face. They walked toward the glitter.
“I knew we would find him!”
“Great, Torlon, now how do we wake him?”
“Very carefully.”
Falz frowned at this statement.
Torlon shouted at the dragon asleep on a very large pile of gold. “Um…Mr. Dragon! Sir Dragon! Excuse me, Mighty One! Would you please wake up?”
A low grumble came from the sanguine creature. Its head raised up, slowly, both eyes opening half-way. “I hate humans.” Its mood didn’t match its color.
“Um…Mr. Dragon, can we ask you some questions?”
“You disturbed my nap. You might as well go for it – the worst that will happen is you’ll get toasted.”
“Uh…well…see…we were wondering about the mysteries of life.” A drop of sweat rolled off Torlon’s eyebrow and dropped onto his cheek. “What is the purpose of life?”
If the dragon had eyebrows, he would have raised one. “Well, I suppose that would depend on who you asked. Would you like something to eat?” The dragon reached over and grabbed a sheep from the flock that both Torlon and Falz had just noticed grazing on some sort of cave moss growing near an underground stream. The dragon roasted the sheep to a very well done but still juicy and tender rack of lamb. He ripped off a leg and gave it to Torlon.
Torlon promptly burnt his hands and dropped the leg on the floor.
“Sorry, I forget how hot my breath is.”
After it cooled, Torlon picked it up and shared it with Falz.
“Now, let’s say you ask a bird what his purpose in being is. He would probably answer something like ‘to fly and use newly washed horses and carriages as toilets.’ Now, if you asked a stone, he would probably reply something like ‘to sit around and gather moss.’ If he were a rolling stone, he would probably say ‘to stick out your tongue and grow the largest lips possible.’ However, since you asked a seven hundred year old dragon, who has been stuck in these caves for the last four hundred years, I would have to say that I have no clue. What do you think the purpose of being is?”
Torlon was thrown off by the question, “Uh…uh…uh…I don’t know.”
“Well, did you wake me up after fifty years, interrupting my dream about the seven headed hydrette who was about to…well, never mind about that…for one question, or were there others?”
“As one so wise, Mr. Dragon…”
“Call me Rupert.”
“Uh…Okay, Rupert, as one so wise you know that the mysteries of life are many, so of course, I have many more questions.”
“Fire away.”
“Are we predestined, or do we have a choice in things?”
“Any more questions?”
“But you didn’t answer that one.”
“I know, but I find that humans have a problem with cutting everything down to the smallest part, and then they ask about that part without knowing anything about the whole. Truly, sometimes, overlooking the whole.”
Torlon looked confused.
Rupert continued, “So, if you ask me all of your questions at once, I may be able to explain it all without having to repeat myself, wasting both our time and energy.”
“Okay…” Torlon paused for a moment then went on with his list of questions. “Did we evolve or were we created? Is there any more to life? Why do we exist? Do the things we do matter? What happens when we die? Is death permanent?”
“Mmmm…All very good questions.” A sinister gleam shone in the dragon’s eye. “Unfortunately, I can only help you answer the last two.”
“How?” Torlon’s face filled with anticipation.
“Well…just like so.” With a move of such considerable speed that Falz couldn’t believe that he had seen it, Rupert grabbed Torlon and, with a few crunching bites, ate him. “Any questions, little man?” He belched and a smile of satisfaction came to his lips.
“Just one.”
“And?”
“How do I get out of here?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t have been down here so long.” Rupert set his head back on his gold mound and closed his eyes.
Falz wandered away, awestruck.
“Are you sh-shure that we sh-shouldn’t let sleeping dragons l-lie?” Torlon’s shorter, darker-haired companion and friend Falz was having trouble walking anymore.
“Oh come on, Falz, what makes you think a sleeping dragon would talk much less lie? And even if he didn’t Tell the truth in his sleep, then of course we shouldn’t let him lie. After all, honesty is the best policy.”
Falz sighed at the sight of Torlon’s toothy grin. Torlon had stopped shaking.
“Well, now or never…”
“Better never,” Falz mumbled as Torlon walked into the cave. Falz followed, as well as he could considering his shaky knees. “We sh-should’ve never t-taken that bet, T-torlon. This is d-dangerous.”
“Oh come on, Falz, what’s so dangerous about waking up the oldest creature on the planet and asking him a few questions about the mysteries of life?”
“Torlon, first of all, this is not a creature; it’s a dragon – a sleeping dragon.” Falz’s nerves had calmed down; now that he was sure he was going to be the breakfast of a very old dragon. “Secondly, this dragon is ancient – he’s at least seven centuries old. I don’t know about your grandfather, but my grandfather is only seventy years old, and he’s crankier than one of Sarden’s stupid inventions. This dragon will be at least one hundred times worse. And thirdly, we’ll be waking him up, and we both know what you are like in the morning.”
“Always practical, aren’t you? Where’s your sense of adventure? Don’t you want to know the answers to the mysteries of life? How often do you get to speak to someone who is seven hundred years old? Huh?”
“Someone? Someone? Torlon, this is a dragon. It has teeth the size of my leg, breathes fire and has claws which could rip mountains apart. In short, he’s not going to invite us to breakfast. He may, however, invite us to be breakfast.”
“Oh come on, Falz, don’t be such a worry wart. I’m sure that he’ll be very reasonable.”
The cavern had gotten considerably darker, and Falz heard a thud.
“Hey, did you bring the torches?”
“Of course I brought the torches. After all, I want to know what horrible creature is going to eat me before I die.” There was a spark as Falz lit a first torch and handed it to Torlon. He noticed that there was tear in Torlon’s breeches at the knee. He then lit a torch for himself.
They wandered through the caverns for several moments; their footsteps echoed hollowly off the walls.
“Torlon, do you even know where the dragon is sleeping?”
“Yeah, in these caverns.”
“I meant specifically.”
“Well…uh…no, but how can we miss a creature as large as the dungeon of Filtwater?”
Falz rubbed his forehead and wished that Excedrin had been invented in the thirteenth century.
They wandered around the caverns for a couple of hours, or days or years, who could actually tell, when Torlon finally spoke, “Shhh!”
“I haven’t said…”
“Shhh! You hear that?” whispered Torlon. “Well?” “Why don’t you answer me?”
“You told me ‘Shhh!’”
“So I did. Look! What’s that glittering down there?”
“Liberace’s jacket?” Falz laughed at the confused look on Torlon’s face. They walked toward the glitter.
“I knew we would find him!”
“Great, Torlon, now how do we wake him?”
“Very carefully.”
Falz frowned at this statement.
Torlon shouted at the dragon asleep on a very large pile of gold. “Um…Mr. Dragon! Sir Dragon! Excuse me, Mighty One! Would you please wake up?”
A low grumble came from the sanguine creature. Its head raised up, slowly, both eyes opening half-way. “I hate humans.” Its mood didn’t match its color.
“Um…Mr. Dragon, can we ask you some questions?”
“You disturbed my nap. You might as well go for it – the worst that will happen is you’ll get toasted.”
“Uh…well…see…we were wondering about the mysteries of life.” A drop of sweat rolled off Torlon’s eyebrow and dropped onto his cheek. “What is the purpose of life?”
If the dragon had eyebrows, he would have raised one. “Well, I suppose that would depend on who you asked. Would you like something to eat?” The dragon reached over and grabbed a sheep from the flock that both Torlon and Falz had just noticed grazing on some sort of cave moss growing near an underground stream. The dragon roasted the sheep to a very well done but still juicy and tender rack of lamb. He ripped off a leg and gave it to Torlon.
Torlon promptly burnt his hands and dropped the leg on the floor.
“Sorry, I forget how hot my breath is.”
After it cooled, Torlon picked it up and shared it with Falz.
“Now, let’s say you ask a bird what his purpose in being is. He would probably answer something like ‘to fly and use newly washed horses and carriages as toilets.’ Now, if you asked a stone, he would probably reply something like ‘to sit around and gather moss.’ If he were a rolling stone, he would probably say ‘to stick out your tongue and grow the largest lips possible.’ However, since you asked a seven hundred year old dragon, who has been stuck in these caves for the last four hundred years, I would have to say that I have no clue. What do you think the purpose of being is?”
Torlon was thrown off by the question, “Uh…uh…uh…I don’t know.”
“Well, did you wake me up after fifty years, interrupting my dream about the seven headed hydrette who was about to…well, never mind about that…for one question, or were there others?”
“As one so wise, Mr. Dragon…”
“Call me Rupert.”
“Uh…Okay, Rupert, as one so wise you know that the mysteries of life are many, so of course, I have many more questions.”
“Fire away.”
“Are we predestined, or do we have a choice in things?”
“Any more questions?”
“But you didn’t answer that one.”
“I know, but I find that humans have a problem with cutting everything down to the smallest part, and then they ask about that part without knowing anything about the whole. Truly, sometimes, overlooking the whole.”
Torlon looked confused.
Rupert continued, “So, if you ask me all of your questions at once, I may be able to explain it all without having to repeat myself, wasting both our time and energy.”
“Okay…” Torlon paused for a moment then went on with his list of questions. “Did we evolve or were we created? Is there any more to life? Why do we exist? Do the things we do matter? What happens when we die? Is death permanent?”
“Mmmm…All very good questions.” A sinister gleam shone in the dragon’s eye. “Unfortunately, I can only help you answer the last two.”
“How?” Torlon’s face filled with anticipation.
“Well…just like so.” With a move of such considerable speed that Falz couldn’t believe that he had seen it, Rupert grabbed Torlon and, with a few crunching bites, ate him. “Any questions, little man?” He belched and a smile of satisfaction came to his lips.
“Just one.”
“And?”
“How do I get out of here?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t have been down here so long.” Rupert set his head back on his gold mound and closed his eyes.
Falz wandered away, awestruck.