The Tiny Dragon

"Pardon me, my lady, but would you care to see a dragon?” the polite, almost lyrical voice asked amidst the fading sounds of the passing parade that left strands of confetti in its wake.

“I bet it’s a lizard,” I thought. “It’s the same old gimmick at every Renaissance Faire.” None the less, I turned to face the speaker. I was slightly surprised to find an attractive man with wavy, copper hair and a short scruffy beard holding out his hand to me with a smile.

I returned his smile and decided to be polite; I was there to have fun after all. “Sure,” I replied looking into his open palm and poking out a finger to pet the lizard’s miniature head. It was not a lizard, however but what I could only describe as a very tiny dragon, complete with wings folded at its sides. I even thought I felt a small amount of moist heat near the mouth, like steam issuing from a tea pot. It was unlike anything I had ever seen outside of a movie theater.

 “Wow,” I whispered, “It really does look like a dragon.”

“That is because he is a dragon, my lady.” the man replied with a smile.

I stroked the small green creature’s head, entranced by it.  I could not get over how much it resembled a dragon. I knew however, that dragons did not exist, so, what on earth could it possibly be?

“I’m impressed,” I admitted, looking up to the man to see his eyes were almost the same color as the creature he held.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said with a slight nod of the head. “It pleases him to hear it.”

“What about you?” I asked.

“It pleases me as well,” he replied with a charming smile that made his eyes shine.

I smiled back, despite my earlier cynicism over the alleged dragon.  “I can tell you must like your job very much.”

“I do indeed, my lady, and if later in the day you would honor my humble shop with a visit, I would be most pleased indeed.” With his free hand he deftly produced a card from his vest pocket.

I smiled and took it, realizing it was made from thin fabric much like parchment rather than paper. “Thanks, I’ll be sure to stop by,” I said, wondering what type of shop he had. He smiled, but a young girl in a fairy costume was running over with a boy dressed oddly enough as Darth Vader. Both were excitedly asking to see the dragon again, so I decided not to ask any more questions.

I walked away from the three of them, glancing back a few times without planning on doing so.  Once I had slipped into a tree shrouded corner away from the crowds I read the soft cream colored card. Written in green script was “Brendon’s Wood Cravings and Incense”. The name wasn’t all that alluring but something about the card was, or was it the man, or even the strange, tiny creature that he claimed to be the dragon of legend?

This was shaping up to be the most intriguing day at the faire I’d ever had and I’d been there many times.  I located the shop on the map and walked towards it. The path sloped down the hill and led to a quaint cottage nestled under a large oak tree. A large green, dragon shaped sign hanging over the open door assured me that I had reached my destination.   The building had been on the grounds for years but the shop inside was new that year.  I couldn’t remember what had been there before. Certainly nothing of major interest since I couldn’t remember it, I decided.

 I went inside to find a number of very well crafted toy swords, shields, battle axes, bows and arrows. Some of the bows and arrows were not toys at all and were locked behind glass. There were also a number of wooden rings and pendants strung on leather cords, as well as picture frames, jewelry boxes and even some small pieces of furniture.  The smell of burning incense pulled me into the corner of the shop where the brightly colored sticks and cones were displayed.        
A young lady about my age was working behind the counter and greeted me in fairly good British accent though some words were definitely her original New Jersey accent. “You got one of Master Brendon’s cards, I see,” she said with a warm, toothy grin.

“Yeah, he was at the gates with the dragon,” I replied.

“Oh, yes, Sparky,” she laughed, “He’s adorable.”

“What is he though?”

“A dragon,” she winked and turned her attention to the door. “Speaking of Sparky and Brendon,” she grinned, “here they come now.”

The man from the gate smiled when he saw me. “Why hello, that was quick. People usually stop by the joust first.”

I returned his smile, “I was curious and I’ve seen the joust lots of times. I come here every year.”

“Excellent well, did you need help with anything, my lady?”

I asked him if he made everything in the shop and he said yes with a little help from Amanda, the Jersey girl and her husband, Paul.  I ended up buying a ring and several sticks of incense though I kept watching Sparky parade around the counter completely free.

“Won’t he run off?” I asked. He and Amanda both laughed. “He never does,” Brendon replied. “He knows better because I feed him well.”

I smiled and glanced at the little dragon again, still amazed by him. I was ready to ask, yet again, what exactly Sparky was when my cell phone went off.  “My friends are here,” I said, reading the text. “I’ll have to bring them by.”

“Can’t wait!” Amanda said with a cheery smile and Brendon just smiled and politely inclined his head.  

As I left the shop, I heard her whisper. “You really shouldn’t show Sparky off like that. It’ll raise too many questions.”

“I can’t keep him locked up, Amanda; he’s not accustomed to it. Besides, he must get used to the people of this land if we are to stay here.”

“Still, I’d hate for some scientist to steal him or something.”

“He would find his way back to me even if they did,” he replied and glancing back I saw him fondly stroking the dragon’s head with his forefinger. 

I raised an eyebrow and decided then and there where I was going to spend most of my time this season, right there in that shop, with Brendon and his dragon.