Not that long ago, someone asked me where I grew up.
“Douglas,” they said. “Where did you grow up?”
Well I had no idea why anyone would be interested in where one silly dragon grew up, but I told them. “Sprivers,” I said. “Sprivers Wood.”
But then they wanted to know more about it. They wanted to know the details. And so I told them the story. And because they liked it so much, I thought I’d tell it to you.
Well now. I grew up in a cosy cave in the west of Sprivers with my Aunt Darla and Uncle Donald. And a very happy little dragon I was too, because they were both wonderful and kind to me.
But the only thing that was missing was, well, I didn’t really have any friends. I mean, I didn’t have any friends because it was always my understanding that people didn’t want to be friends with dragons. And so there I was, sat in Sprivers, happily enough, but all by myself.
Still, it didn’t take me long to MAKE friends - you see there are hundreds of animals in Sprivers. And when I old enough to go out and explore by myself I made friends with - well, let’s see… There was Arnold the badger, and Coco the parrot. And a family of mice lived under our cave and they had lots of children, I was friends with them. And so, I was happy enough in my own little way.
But the thing with my animal friends was, well, they were all a lot smaller than I was. And they couldn’t make camps like I could, and they couldn’t go swimming and diving in Crystal Mist Reservoir like I could. So most of the time when I was a child, I played on my own. And a fine time I had of it, too.
But at night, I would always stay in my snug bed right at the back of the cave because I was scared of the Bewls - the sprites that guard Sprivers. Aunt Darla and Uncle Donald has told me all my life that the Bewls were pests and best not messed around with or they’d bite you. And I would always hear them in the trees and bushes during the day and I’d know to steer well clear of them, but at night the sound of them made me uneasy - and I knew that the safest place to be was right up at the back of the cave, by the fire, cuddled under by blanket with Aunt Darla and Uncle Donald sitting towards the entrance making sure everything was safe.
But when I got a bit older, I was about six, I decided that I did need more friends and so I’d try and make friends with the Bewls. I remember sitting down in the leaves in the wood one day and pretending to have a snooze. I knew the tiny Bewls would always come out and investigate and have a look, so the plan was that when they were all gathered around I would pretend to wake up and say “Oh, hello, my name’s Douglas. How are you?”
But as I pretended to be asleep, and as I heard them all gather around, I sneezed. Now - what’s the problem with that you might ask? Well, it’s about the age of six that dragons begin to learn to make fire through their noses - but still aren’t very good at turning it on and off. So as the Bewls gathered around, and I was about to pretend to wake up and try and make friends with them, I sneezed and a bit bolt of fire came shooting out my nose and set fire to a tree!
As I tried to say sorry the Bewls were furiously dashing about with little miniature buckets getting water from Crystal Mist Reservoir to put the flames out. I tried to help my flapping at the fire with my wings but that just made it worse.
Now, not only didn’t the Bewls not want to be friends - they hated Douglas. And the other animals thought I’d done it on purpose so they weren’t my friends any more either.
I was sad. I’d sit in the cave at night with fewer friends than ever, and only Aunt Darla and Uncle Donald for company.
“Dragons shouldn’t be friends with Bewls, anyway,” said Uncle. “They don’t like anyone,” said Aunty. “Well, except for brave people.”
“Oh yes,” said Uncle. “They do like brave people. People who look after the wood.”
Well that night I had myself a bright idea. I suppose you could call it a plan. I whispered it to Aunt Darla and Uncle Donald by the fire, and to my surprise - they agreed to help.
The plan - my plan - was that Aunt and Uncle would both go outside and be as scary a dragons as possible to the Bewls, and then I’d come along and shoo both the dragons away and then I would be the Bewl’s hero. Well. It was dark outside as all three of us left the cave. Uncle Donald and Aunt Darla soared up into the sky and then came flying back down with a ROAR. I had never seen my nice Aunt and Uncle be so scary.
Well, the Bewls fled, shouting “Attack! Dragon attack!” as Aunt and Uncle swooped low and then right back up into the sky above the trees. As they came roaring back down I jumped into the way and shouted “Be gone dragons!” But Aunt Darla got a bit carried away and roared out some flames which set three trees on fire!
“Fire attack! Fire! It’s a fire attack!” shouted the Bewls and began gathering their tiny buckets. Well, I knew there was a boat by the reservoir so I ran over to it, pushed it under the water, filled it up, and then pulled it back all by myself and tipped it over the trees. With a big hiss, the fire was out.
But the Bewls looked at me with amazement. I was their hero.
And that night, as I sat in the dark and dripping wet wood, they all came up and thanked me. But I didn’t feel happy. The whole thing had just been a plan. I wasn’t really a hero, even if Aunt Darla wasn’t supposed to have set fire to the trees. So I decided to be honest, and told the Bewls I’d set the whole thing up.
“You did that, just to be friends?” asked one Bewl called Tinker.
I nodded. “I want to know you all. You see, I’ve lost the friends I had.”
Tinker and the other Bewls led me through the trees to Crystal Mist Reservoir, where as soon as dawn begins to break, crystals appear that allow you to make a wish. But it was normally very wrong to take a crystal.
“Please,” said Tinker. “You must.”
So I picked a crystal carefully. And as I snapped it, I made a wish for a friend.
And almost immediately, around the far side of the reservoir, I saw a human boy. He was walking along in his green jacket, and he looked very happy, and when he got to me, we both bowed and he introduced himself. “I’m Nennis,” he said.
And Nennis and I have been friends ever since. He taught me how to tell stories, and how to make up my own stories.
And now I was friends with the Bewls, I would tell them my stories at night in a little theater we built for ourselves. Some evenings, there would be three or four thousand Bewls listening to my stories. And even today I like to go back to Sprivers and sit in that same little theatre and practice my stories in front of the Bewls.
And who do I practice them for? Well. I practice them for you of course.
