The Staff of Wisdom

An iron claw slams onto the stone you lay beside, a feather’s distance from your breadth; its shockwave fearsome as a raging tide, escaping through your shallow breath. Your sword departs from your faithful side, falling into darkness’ depth; as a wrathful eye descends upon your fallen stride, consumed with spiteful death…

And you are helpless.

You hear a roar. Defiant encore. From the dragon’s breast. As it is written in the ancient lore. Defeat consuming your chest. You inch back. Upon the floor. Towards the hallway’s crest. Then you remember the oath you swore. To pass this daunting test…

Yet you are helpless.

“Who dares to intrude my lair,” the dragon’s echoes its voice. Fixated by its gruelling stare, you feel devoid of choice.

“I dare to enter to reclaim the staff,” you audaciously declare. The dragon utters a mocking laugh, victorious in its snare.

“Many have tried and failed to complete, their quest for wisdom divine. Why another one to so entreat, my hunger for flesh so fine…”

The dragon lay its head against your chest.

“Because I have heard the voice of heaven,” with all your strength you gasp; “And the angels are my kindred brethren,” within the dragon’s grasp.

The dragon growls.

“I have seen the angels abandon their men, and the heavenly lights desert them again…”

You refuse to conceive the doubt.

“And I have seen the heavens part open, and the sovereign claim me bespoken…”

The dragon flares its snout.

“I am tempted to give you the staff, your soul for it to devour. To prove to heaven’s behalf, that none is worthy of its power…”

A flick of the tail, a shimmer of the scale.

And the staff lay next to you.

You grasp its crystalline hilt, and feel the power of heaven within - the thunder of a thousand storms, their calling resting therein. Responding to your gentle touch, the staff awakens to your embrace, expanding its wisdom into your heart, enchanting in its grace…

The dragon roars, fury in its eyes, merciless and wrathful, hungering for your demise. So you grasp the staff, and visualise its power flow, from its shining crystal, to form a shield aglow…

As the dragon breathes its fire, the hall is incinerated entire…

You open your eyes. The flames have not touched you. 

You are alive…

“The staff dares protect you?” The dragon utters its rite. “A single knight with honour true?” Its pride consumed with delight.

“For many are called, but few are chosen,” you affirm your sovereign right. “And I’m the few to whom heaven has spoken,” you speak to the holy light…

“Lies!”

And fire descends.

Burning, raging, ravaging the stone; engulfing the metal, liquefying bone. Glowing, burning, consuming beware; destroying armour, melting the air…You open your eyes. Around you, demise. About you, desolation. But within you, resolution…

And the dragon sneers.

“Why wield the staff for wisdom alone, when power is greater than all else to obtain? Why hold insight for oneself to own, when strength is mightier for you to gain…”

And you are tempted.

Tempted to rebel against heaven’s light, to conquer the shadows, with your insight. Tempted to disobey angelic might, to crave the darkness, to your delight…

And the sword calls.

You hear it.

Unsinged by the murderous fire, crystal clear in the ashes’ spire. Untouched by the ravages of desire, its steel incandescent aspire…

And you remember. The calling. You see. The falling. Of knights to temptation’s quest, of seekers to the dragon’s test…

“No.”

The staff awakens.

“I am a warrior of love alone, of truth to speak from heaven’s throne. I despise the deeds of night, and serve only the sovereign light…”

The crystal ignites.

“You can not destroy me,” the dragon does rear; shock in its eyes, a newfound fear. “I am the guardian of Wisdom,” the dragon dares sneer; hatred in its lies, wrathful sheer…

You close your eyes.

And with the last of your strength, you command the crystalline light, in the name of heaven high, to smite the dragon with all its might…

And as the dragon roars, consumed by lightning divine, you exit the castle walls, knowing that the staff is thine…

And you smile.

The dragon’s name was Pride.