The knight sat on the ground, burned and battered. His armor and ego were dented.
The dragon had kicked his butt again.
A singed glove felt around for his sword. It, too, was broken.
He was having an absolutely crappy day. Self-pity washed over him as the nearby shrubbery continued to smolder. Deep laughter echoed through the valley. The Dragon was taunting him once again.
“You are pathetic little man. You’ll never beat me.”
The knight heard that in his sleep. When he was eating. When he was sitting on the toilet. The village, which had been burned several times by the dragon, thought he was a loser. And who was he to argue? He had turned even deeper within himself as he heard the dragon’s words again.
“You are a pathetic little man. You’ll never beat me.”
Not only did the dragon live in a cave on the mountain top, he lived in the knight’s head, too. “Maybe I am a loser,” he thought as he slowly picked himself up off the ground.
He gathered his broken sword and headed back down the mountain. The village was three miles away — he had plenty of time to prepare his pity party.
And did he throw a grand one. The knight entered Ye Olde Pub and Brothel and sat down at the giant oak bar. He requested an ale as the patrons whispered. “Look at his burns,” he could hear. “What a loser.”
“God I hate Monday’s,” he moaned as he drained his ale.
The next morning, he woke up in the alley behind the pub, hungover and lower than a flea’s belly. A trash collector had tried to steal his broken sword, causing the knight to leap up, prepared to fight. Of course, he stumbled. “Loser,” the trash collector chuckled.
The knight threw up and then stumbled out into the street. Women and children gazed at him as he cursed and muttered his way back home. “The hero is home!” they laughed as he tripped and fell face first.
When he entered his small apartment, the knight threw his sword down and shouted with disgust, “I AM A LOSER!”
“Only because you think you are,” a voice said calmly from the darkness.
The knight swung around with his half sword, prepared to do battle.
“Don’t think that will do you much good,” the voice said. Soon, the room illuminated because of a man dressed in white robes.
“You Gandalf the White, Dumbledore or Merlin?” the knight said sarcastically.
“I’m Wyatt the Wizard.”
The knight burst out laughing. “Who would name a wizard Wyatt?”
“I’m not the one getting my helmet handed to me by a dragon. I’m the one who should be laughing — but I’m not. I’m going to teach you how to slay your dragon.”
The knight looked at the old man and shrugged. What could it hurt? Well, it couldn’t hurt worse than getting your helmet handed to you by a dragon.
This is where the Rocky montage should be — you know, where Wyatt the Wizard trains the knight. But really, the training existed in one simple piece of advice.
“To beat your inner dragon, you must help other people.”
The knight looked Wyatt the Wizard like he was a complete idiot. “Whatever, Wizard boy.”
Wyatt the Wizard said, “I’ve told you all you need to know.” Then he glowed brilliantly one more time and disappeared.
The knight was a slow learner. He took on the dragon three more times and got his helmet handed to him three more times. Then one afternoon, while lying in the alley, the Wizard’s advice made sense to him. He went home, took off his armor and put on regular street clothes. From there, he began to help his neighbors. He cleaned up the yard of a local widow. He served at a soup kitchen. He volunteered at the cathedral. The knight slowly but surely made friends with the villagers. Soon he wasn’t considered a joke. The knight truly became a leader who was loved because of his service to others.
It was another Monday and the knight was setting up for the village bake sale. The sky suddenly turned orange as flames shot over the homes. “COME OUT KNIGHT. I’M HERE FOR YOU.”
The knight heard the voice of his nemesis taunted him in his head.
But others heard it, too. Soon the knight was joined by hundreds of villagers bearing swords and pitchforks. They walked behind the knight as he faced his dragon again.
“YOU BROUGHT AN AUDIENCE TO WATCH YOU DIE?”
The knight slowly raised his repaired sword, “No dragon, this is your day to die.”
The villagers surrounded the dragon, causing him to spin around. Fire shot toward some of the villagers, but when that happened, several others rushed and climbed onto his back. That allowed the knight to run beneath the distracted creature.
He stabbed the sword right in the dragon’s heart.
The dragon fell dead. And the taunting voice in the knight’s head was silenced forever.
The villagers stood stunned at the sight of the dead beast. A glowing white light appeared over head as Wyatt the Wizard floated in the sky.
“Anything is possible with friends. Even conquering a dragon.”
The knight closed his eyes as the villagers picked him up on their shoulders. The wizard with the weird name was right after all. And the knight lived happily ever after.