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What You Are,,, And the dragon spoke, life bleeding from it in rivulets of pitch black."You know," it said "I don't have very many friends."Our hero was silent. Perhaps it was the sudden display of vulnerability from our enemy, perhaps our hero was simply stunned that the monster could speak at all. "I don't think I have any, actually," The beast said. "All your friends are so nice to you, you're all nice to each other. It's disgusting. I've never had anything like that.""Lay down," commanded our hero, raising the sword high, pointed at the dragon. "Let me finish you off, so you terrorize us no longer.""I'll lay down, but I don't want to die yet," Said the dragon, setting its taloned feet on the ground for the first time. If it was surprised by the texture, it didn't show. "Just a little longer. I'll lay down.""Doesn't it hurt?" Our hero asked, sword lowered, voice gentle now."It hurts. Yes, it hurts very much." Said the dragon."Then why stay any longer?" Asked our hero. "Let me kill you, so that neither of us suffer."The dragon didn't answer that, in fact it never did, instead it said, "I have known you for at least two dozen moons. Twenty four human months—two years, isn't it? I have hunted your village for two years and we have fought for two years and in two years I have not learned your name. What is it?"For a moment our hero did not respond. What thoughts did this question bring with it? What musings did it prompt? Why would the dragon ask such a thing of its slayer?"My people call me their hero," Said the knight. "What is your name?""I don't have one," said the dragon. "Not one that you would recognize as such. What do your people call me? I will use that.""We call you many things," our hero said. "We call you a Beast, The Monster, Terror, Flying Devil—""All of these names are terrible!" Cried the dragon, distraught, still bleeding."Well, you have done terrible things. If you wanted a better name, you should have done better things." Responded our hero, and the dragon was silent for a time. "I have only ever known terrible things. I don't know how to be gentle. Every dragon I know does terrible things—to me, to others—there was no other way to learn." Our hero did not respond to this, and the dragon again cried out. "Tell me what I must do to earn a better name! I am on the verge of death, it is my last wish—am I so terrible as to not deserve this last thing?""You could never earn a better name, even if you were not, at this moment, bleeding out," said our hero. "Nothing you could ever do would erase what you have already done. That is your legacy, and although more deeds would provide more distance, it could never be gone." At this, the dragon wept; great, ugly sobs that burbled in its torn throat."Oh, please! Please! All I want is a decent name—If I have no time to earn it, can you not just grant me one for my change of heart?" Dragon cried out, writhing on the ashen ground like a worm on a hook. "I am sorry for what I have done, I regret all of my life's actions—they have brought me nothing but misery in my long life! No one deserved the terrible things I brought upon them, or the terrible things I caused to happen through negligence or malice! I am a terrible being, no doubt, and I have nothing but words to bandage the wounds I wrought upon the world around me, but may you grant me this one mercy? Name me, so that I may die a less miserable creature."Our hero stood silent for a time, as the dragon writhed and begged, crying and roaring frustration in intervals, but it was quick to lose energy. Soon its movements grew clumsy, then sluggish, and then it only moved on occasion, panting heavily from even the slightest twitch of its tail. Only then did our hero step forward and kneel down by its head, stooping down to stare it in the eye."I name you Dragon," said the knight. "For you are what you are. I cannot change you, nor give you the time to change yourself. I pity you, Dragon, for the life you have suffered, but I can not give you a better life in name.",...

Description
What You Are,,, And the dragon spoke, life bleeding from it in rivulets of pitch black."You know," it said "I don't have very many friends."Our hero was silent. Perhaps it was the sudden display of vulnerability from our enemy, perhaps our hero was simply stunned that the monster could speak at all. "I don't think I have any, actually," The beast said. "All your friends are so nice to you, you're all nice to each other. It's disgusting. I've never had anything like that.""Lay down," commanded our hero, raising the sword high, pointed at the dragon. "Let me finish you off, so you terrorize us no longer.""I'll lay down, but I don't want to die yet," Said the dragon, setting its taloned feet on the ground for the first time. If it was surprised by the texture, it didn't show. "Just a little longer. I'll lay down.""Doesn't it hurt?" Our hero asked, sword lowered, voice gentle now."It hurts. Yes, it hurts very much." Said the dragon."Then why stay any longer?" Asked our hero. "Let me kill you, so that neither of us suffer."The dragon didn't answer that, in fact it never did, instead it said, "I have known you for at least two dozen moons. Twenty four human months—two years, isn't it? I have hunted your village for two years and we have fought for two years and in two years I have not learned your name. What is it?"For a moment our hero did not respond. What thoughts did this question bring with it? What musings did it prompt? Why would the dragon ask such a thing of its slayer?"My people call me their hero," Said the knight. "What is your name?""I don't have one," said the dragon. "Not one that you would recognize as such. What do your people call me? I will use that.""We call you many things," our hero said. "We call you a Beast, The Monster, Terror, Flying Devil—""All of these names are terrible!" Cried the dragon, distraught, still bleeding."Well, you have done terrible things. If you wanted a better name, you should have done better things." Responded our hero, and the dragon was silent for a time. "I have only ever known terrible things. I don't know how to be gentle. Every dragon I know does terrible things—to me, to others—there was no other way to learn." Our hero did not respond to this, and the dragon again cried out. "Tell me what I must do to earn a better name! I am on the verge of death, it is my last wish—am I so terrible as to not deserve this last thing?""You could never earn a better name, even if you were not, at this moment, bleeding out," said our hero. "Nothing you could ever do would erase what you have already done. That is your legacy, and although more deeds would provide more distance, it could never be gone." At this, the dragon wept; great, ugly sobs that burbled in its torn throat."Oh, please! Please! All I want is a decent name—If I have no time to earn it, can you not just grant me one for my change of heart?" Dragon cried out, writhing on the ashen ground like a worm on a hook. "I am sorry for what I have done, I regret all of my life's actions—they have brought me nothing but misery in my long life! No one deserved the terrible things I brought upon them, or the terrible things I caused to happen through negligence or malice! I am a terrible being, no doubt, and I have nothing but words to bandage the wounds I wrought upon the world around me, but may you grant me this one mercy? Name me, so that I may die a less miserable creature."Our hero stood silent for a time, as the dragon writhed and begged, crying and roaring frustration in intervals, but it was quick to lose energy. Soon its movements grew clumsy, then sluggish, and then it only moved on occasion, panting heavily from even the slightest twitch of its tail. Only then did our hero step forward and kneel down by its head, stooping down to stare it in the eye."I name you Dragon," said the knight. "For you are what you are. I cannot change you, nor give you the time to change yourself. I pity you, Dragon, for the life you have suffered, but I can not give you a better life in name.",...