Paul Vargis
TySaint George is a military saint/martyr that is known across many different countries and religions. Very many patronages. Foremost a protector (and that whole patron saint of England, but moving on) … the most famous story of this Crusader involves a little tale of a dragon.
The story of a little-known village tormented by a dragon, where sheepily sacrifices were offered up to keep it satisfied, until the livestock ran out and the dragon’s insatiable appetite persisted. The ruler came up with a lottery to offer scrumptious offering of human sacrifice. The only problem was that the King’s daughter “won” (if one could call becoming the dinner of a Dragon winning). Hence the chaining to the rock probably, for the Dragon to come and have dinner to save the township.
A crusader night, humbly named George as the legend goes came up on the scene, and with his lance (that some say Churchill dubbed a bomber after in World War II). The fight was on …
Legend says he vanquished the dragon, saved the town, and rescued the princess…
What if the dragon was not the evil that needed to be vanquished?
Rick stood up from behind the high bench table, why any design team though that was comfort was astounding. “I think you missed a space memo.” He stepped forward walking towards the croc-hunter. “I am no longer the heir, there is someone new.”
The smoke in the thing’s nostrils began to glow, almost a flame. Rick focused on that, the stabbing added to the temples as well as the top of the head. The feed back sound became a white noise which started to trip his brain out. He froze in place fighting in the void of darkness unable to move. The croc-hunter leveled his weapon at Rick.
“You are a coward to hide behind a child as heir. Good Knight.”
The trigger squeezed…
Pieces of tempered glass crunched beneath a tasseled loafer. George was out of shape, showing the middle-aged spread, and a bad comb over. All in all, a very good alien camouflage job. How else that many centuries ago would a simple crusading knight have been able to defeat a dragon?
“Dragon put the damn gun down.” George said.
Rick’s eyes fluttered rapidly, as his head slumped forward. Slowly he chewed his lips as his brain rebooted. The weapon—some would call a blaster or a phaser dependent on whether you were a Star Wars fan or Trekkie leveled at him. Rick fought through brain fog and re-focused on George. “Aren’t you Dragon?”
George chuckled. “I have allowed it to become my last name, but we were more partners.” George said.
Shotgun pushed himself up to a standing position and stumbled forward. He felt the bruising coming through in his back, and was sure he had probably broken or the very least bruised a rib or two. His hope was for a break, at least those had a healing time frame, bruising was a pain that lingered over time. Unfortunately seeing the weapon trained on hi friend, and sadly the only person appearing able to stop the vaporization is an old alien.
“Dragon.” George stated.
“Yes, George.” Dragon said.
“The Knight needs to die.”
“No, like they misunderstood our name, we need this Knight to be ready to rise again.” George retorted.
“Wait, you’re St. George from the legend?” Said Rick.
“What did you think the S. before my name stood for?” Rick shrugged at the response. “You were the reincarnated PenDragon and this is causing a confused facial expression?”
“The legend says you killed the guy with the blaster on me. What was up with that princess…”
George laughed. Shotgun just looked confused, the sirens were there. Dragon looked at Rick. “Why do you think the town had to chain her up?”
If it was a cartoon, a light bulb would’ve appeared over Rick and Shotgun’s head. “The Princess was the monster.”
“Yes, she was eating others in the township. They chained her up and…” Dragon paused, searching for the words.
“Hired you, because you are some sort of bounty hunter.” Rick said.
“He’s a hired assassin, but you make it sound so heroic, Rick.” George said.
Shotgun chimed in finally, “so the big intergalactic bad coming back is the princess.”
“Bingo cowboy.” Dragon said as he released the trigger and holstered his weapon. “We just don’t know when.”
Shotgun walked to the gaping hole and motioned to the police. Rick watched as Shotgun did what he used to do in the armour, sort out the issues. Shotgun stepped back into the restaurant towards George and Dragon. “Look, we have a need to fill on the team with a few more members. Since you both appear to know of this imminent threat, how would you consider joining the newbies?”
Rick had to grin as he heard his friend extend the “offer”, how often he had those conversations over the years. The best conversation to have with a new or old hero, to find belonging and community. To become part of something bigger than themselves.
The world was in good hands. Rick knew it was about more than simply him, it was about taking his new life. His new book of life, one chapter at a time.
The New Beginning…
A Monk's Musings 