On the tallest peak in the kingdom, known as Dragon’s Peak, there lived a dragon named Flame. Flame was no ordinary dragon; he was the guardian of a young prince, the only son of the kindest king that ever reigned in that happy country.
Flame’s green scales glimmered like emeralds in the sun, and his long neck was crowned with a head of pure gold. To see Flame soaring through the deep blue sky with his great gold wings outspread was truly a sight to behold. How sad it was that the prince had never been able to play with his dear friend, the Dragon! For whenever anyone tried to approach Dragon’s Peak, Flame would give a loud roar, which terrified the boldest heart till he turned back in fright, and yet he loved little children more than anything else in the world.
The sun was setting. As Flame sat on his rock looking over the kingdom the dark clouds rolled up, and all at once the wind began to roar.
“My dear prince,” said Flame to himself in the Dragon language, “what is going to happen this dreadful night?”
But at that very moment he heard in the distance a sound like thunder, and looking down he saw, through the deepening gloom, a great black cloud which separated into dozens of little clouds—in fact, he discovered that they were nothing else than the armed soldiers belonging to the evil knight. The knight himself rode at their head, glittering in black armor, and his tall black horse pranced beneath him.
Flame’s kind heart was filled with pity as he saw them approach the castle gates, which were quickly opened to admit the prince and his people.
“It is tyranny, it is cruelty to assault in this merciless way my beloved protector and friend,” sighed the prince. “O Lord, let us be brave in our despair.”
At that moment a huge stone flew through the air towards the prince. The soldiers rushed in, and in another minute the noble prince would have been a prisoner. But just as they lifted their swords on high to slay him, a bright sea of flame lit up the whole place; all the soldiers turned in terror and fled before the breath of the guardian dragon, Flame.
Flame flew lower with his great wings outspread, and cried, with a voice of thunder, “Fear not, dear prince! I am coming,” and before any harm could befall him he had landed in front of the castle gates.
“Brave soldiers,” said the knight, “you have allowed your king’s son to surpass you in binding the dragon, but now at last he is in our power.”
Flame moved uneasily, though they rolled round him eleven great iron chains. “Noble prince,” said Flame, looking lovingly at him, “do not allow despair to conquer your heart”; and so saying, with a mighty effort, he broke his chains, while the soldiers fled before the flames that now burst forth.
As soon as the prince had recovered his shattered senses he threw himself on the neck of his beloved guardian.
“Fly, my dear dragon, fly far from hence; carry my love to my father, for I shall be unable to return, and I know that my doom, being conquered by this hated knight, will soon be determined.”
Flame shook his noble head. “Fear not, dear master; I will never leave you, and we shall yet conquer an evil knight.”
With that he bore away the prince on his back far up into the sky, while the evil knight looked up in rage, for he longed to pierce him through with his lance.
In another minute Flame was close at hand fluttering a little in front of the prince’s window. He alighted on the roof, making it ring beneath him.
“It was but a bad day, my master, the day on which these tyrants came into the empire of his Majesty your father, and slew the watchman who was tending his post on the ruins of the castle to free it from you besiegers.”
“Noble Flame,” said the prince, “no force upon earth can conquer you, and I thank you for your friendly aid with my whole heart; but do not flatter yourself that even a dragon will be able to preserve me from my evil fate. But come to me tomorrow, and we will consult together.”
The next morning Flame appeared in front of the window of the cell in which the prince had that dreadful night been imprisoned, longing to eat his breakfast, which was brought him by the soldiers sent by the knight from the castle.
“Terror and despair, horrible despair,” cried the prince. “Zounds! I hardly dare hope. Come to me again tomorrow, dear Flame; by that time I will have come to a decision.”
On the next morning Flame again flew to him. The evil knight sat somewhat moodily near the window, looking over the chain, and pondering what he was to do with the prince. His horse, which had not partaken of food or drink for two days and nights, neighed for fresh refreshments.
“I will give you the ten feet of iron chain that I have just forged,” replied the prince, “for you will soon need it to hold your horse, which will otherwise be all over the floors.”
The evil knight looked at the fetters in amazement, for they were vanishing in the air belonging to the horse, and they at once passed again into the hand of the prince. The accomplished wizard formed them into an indefinable, solid wall in front of the window, and bound the evil knight on his horse to it.
“Noble Flame,” said he, “I am in a position now to follow your good advice”; and in a few minutes the prince himself with Flame had started for the capital to beg for help. Would that the good king had returned from hunting! But soldiers were sent from distant castles, from every quarter of the wide realms, and attacked the evil knight, who was soon overpowered.
So did right vanquish wrong, and the patient guardian, Flame, carried in triumph his beloved prince back to joyous hearts.