The Little Dragon Boy

Author's Preface:

This is a satirical story and as such maybe offensive to some. If stories of this nature offend you, please do not read any further. There is plenty of standard Christmas fare available on the Events Site and other Fort Family Sites for you to read. I also apologize in advance for all of the poetic license, puns and paraphrases that you will find contained in this story. If there is any copyrighted material contained within this story, it remains the property of the copyright holder. Haven Universe Characters are used with permission of that Evil Author Str8mayb.

It was two days before Christmas on a planet far, far away and a long, long, long time ago. The castle was extremely busy as everyone was busy running around, trying to get everything ready for the Christmas Day Festivities. The festivities were going to be extra special this year as there was going to be a very, very spectacular present for the King.

This year Queen Mâry had decided that her husband King Jözeph deserved a Christmas Present to set him and their Kingdom of Juðeâ apart from the rest of the kingdoms on the Planet Prezbyteryâ. Most of the other kingdoms were either larger or had fancier castles than their modest Kingdom and Castle Âlexânðryâ. Queen Mâry had decided to give her husband a Gold Dragon for Christmas as none of the other Kings or Queens had a dragon of their own.

The whole humongous present idea had come about almost by accident. Queen Mâry had been taking her daily constitutional along the north ramparts, and she just' happened to have looked over toward the Atlas Mountains. The sun was just setting and its dying gold and orange rays highlighted what she thought was a flock of gigantic birds.

"Matilda, what kind of birds are those?" The Queen asked one of her maids who was accompanying her that day.

"I am sorry, your Majesty, but those aren't birds; that is a flock of wild dragons. Dragons have finally returned to their hereditary nesting grounds, after having disappeared many years ago." One of the soldiers in her guard interjected.

For the next several days, the Queen was basically unresponsive to anyone except her husband and whoever announced the meals. The Queen had gone over plan after plan and was still no closer to figuring out how to acquire a dragon for her husband. Finally at her wits end, she called for a private meeting with the Seneschal.

Klaas Sinter was pulling what little hair he had left, out, when he was informed that the Queen was on her way to see him for a private meeting, concerning Christmas. 'Christmas now??? We still haven't gotten in all of the grain crops, and rain is looming. Not only that, we still need to harvest the last of the grapes for Spätlese Wines which brought in a fair amount of the money needed to keep the Kingdom running.'

After the Queen had left, the poor Seneschal was frantic as he had no idea how to deal with her request to find a dragon's egg for her husband. Klaas really had no idea of where to start or even who send to find a dragon egg; not only that but the Queen wanted the egg of a Golden Dragon. Several days later, after very little sleep and failing to come up with an answer, the weary and dejected Seneschal was straightening up his office, killing time before he went and told the Queen that he couldn't help her and that she would need to find another present for the King. He was just putting away the newest Heraldic Register when he accidentally knocked one of the older Registers to the floor. As he was picking up the ancient roll of parchment, it was if all of the candles in Âlexânðryâ lit themselves at once. The light going off in his brain nearly blinded the poor Seneschal.

'Of course, Sir Nykhölâz, if he is still alive he just might be able to help me. He is probably the only person still alive in the Kingdom from before the dragons disappeared. Now if he only he is still living in the same place.' The Seneschal headed to his desk, muttering to himself as he began writing a message to Sir Nykhölâz.

It took a bit longer than expected to find Sir Nykhölâz, as he had moved to a little village that was nearly impossible to find, let alone reach. Nothing was going the way it should for the messenger and soldiers tasked with finding Sir Nykhölâz, and bringing him back to the castle. When the small search party finally reached the village where the reclusive Sir Nykhölâz supposedly lived, they were shocked. The 'village' was only two small hovels, one large cottage and an 'Inn'.

Seeing no living beings present, the small search party spread out and began looking for anyone. It wasn't til nearly sundown that they saw the first sign of life in the village. A very decrepit looking old man with white hair and beard that reached to nearly his knees, came wandering into the village from the mountains, trailed by a ragtag flock of sheep, cows and pigs.

The messenger got up his courage and walked over to the scary visage and began his inquiry.

"Excuse me, kind sir, could you please tell me if Sir Nykhölâz lives in this village?" The young peach fuzzed messenger squeaked out.

"Yes," the old man of the mountain replied without stopping, and kept his menagerie of a flock headed towards a tumbling down old building behind the Inn.[Blame this on Str8mayb]

The messenger quickly scurried to catch up with the trying old man. He was able to catch up with him rather quickly, as the mountain man was ambling along at a very sedate pace.

"Is he nearby?" The messenger inquired politely, hoping to get a more detailed answer than his first question.

"Maybe," was the succinct answer.[This one is Str8mayb's fault as well]

The poor young messenger, barely out of puberty, was nearly at his wits' end but he decided to try again.

"Could I talk to him?"

"Why?"[This one is Str8mayb's fault as well]

At this answer, the wizened old corporal who was the messenger's unofficial baby-sitter spoke up.

"Sir, we have a message from his old friend the Seneschal Klaas Sinter."

"Well, why didn't you just say so in the first place, without all the pussyfooting around? What kind of trouble has that officious son of a snake got himself into, now?" The old man's sarcastic answer stunned the searching party.

However, the corporal was used to dealing with these types of situations and calmly replied.

"I am sorry, venerable one; we have orders to disclose that to Sir Nykhölâz, only."

"Well, who in Hades do you think you are talking to, youngster?" With that, the mountain man shook his head rather forcibly, stamped his walking stick on the ground [Yes, Sleeping Beauty they are outside ;)] and then gave his whole body a rather violent shake.

When the special effects had finished, instead of a decrepit old mountain man, looking like a sneeze would blow him over; there now stood a much more vibrant and powerful old man. The hair and beard were still white, but the old man was no longer a stooped over old wreck. Now standing in front of them was a wise old man, full of fire and looking ready to take them all on.

It took several hours of persuasion before Sir Nykhölâz would agree to assist them. His first response turned the air blue with his descriptive and scatological language. The poor messenger turned a bright crimson and the corporal took notes, as he learned several new curses.

"What does he expect me to do, pull a dragon out of my hat? Does he think I am a Magus or something? In the day, I was a wizard on horseback but that was an eternity ago."

Finally, the young messenger was able to earn his pay and he was so excited that he babbled on for minutes before he heard the chuckling.

"I mean that the dragons have returned to the Atlas Mountains, just east of Castle Âlexânðryâ. It seems to be a fairly large flock; that is the good news. The bad news is that no one knows exactly how many dragons there are, and if there are any gravid females."

"Thank you, young man, now I know that the job isn't completely impossible only extremely difficult. Now it is time to sleep; we leave at dawn on the morrow." With that, Sir Nykhölâz turned and headed off to bed with nary another word.

Nigh on to a week later, a very motley caravan arrived at Castle Âlexânðryâ in the waning hours of the afternoon. The caravan consisted of the search party, Sir Nykhölâz, his 'nephew' and several servants. There were also a few pack horses and a supply wagon; but the strangest thing was a wagon with what looked like some kind of stove with a huge ceramic bowl fixed to its top. There was smoke coming out of the stove thing. This wagon was being pulled by a pair of huge, bored looking old oxen.

As instructed, the search party took the caravan around to the rear of the castle where the Tradesman's Gate was located. Once inside, the Seneschal took over and quickly had everything under control and rooms for all and sundry. Now the only problem was keeping news of the visitors from the King. Since Sir Nykhölâz was an old friend of the ruling family, that made things a little more difficult. If that wasn't enough, since his 'nephew' was the fourth in line for the throne of the Kingdom of Juðeâ (at least that was how Sir Nykhölâz introduced him) that made finding appropriate rooms dicier.

Queen Mâry was able to beg off from having dinner with her husband so she was able to join Sir Nykhölâz and his nephew. After everyone had finished eating, they began discussing the hunt for dragon eggs. It was decided that the search would begin on the day after the morrow and would hopefully be fruitful.

The egg searching party left quietly from the Tradesman's Gate and things in the castle returned to normal, sorta. Now that the search was actually in progress, Klaas Sinter had to come up with somewhere to nurture and care for the Dragon Egg. There were several possible places near the kitchen, but those would be hard to keep the King out of. Finally the poor Senechal's over worked brain remembered something about volcanic vents in an unused portion of the castle. There were several rooms that would work; now he had to get them cleaned, including the attached courtyard. Now where could he find enough sand to make a bed for the egg?

While Klaas Sinter was still wracking his brain, trying to figure out where in the world he could get the sand he needed, a messenger came hurrying up to him.

"Seneschal, Seneschal you have a delivery."

"What delivery? I wasn't expecting anything? What is it?" Klaas asked, a bit too late, he was speaking to the messenger's retreating back.

Shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head, he headed to the Tradesman's Gate to see what this mysterious delivery was. Upon arriving at the gate, several minutes later, Sinter was greatly surprised at what he found waiting for him. There were two good sized wagons brimming full of sand. He stood there for several minutes staring at his good fortune. That is until he realized he still needed to get all of that sand into the correct room without interrupting anyone or anything in the castle. As he entered the courtyard, lost in thought, the driver of one of the wagons climbed down from his seat. The driver then headed toward the Seneschal, but before they could speak, they were interrupted by a servant.

"Lord Sinter, Lord Sinter we found something important."

"What could be so important that you interrupt me when I am about to speak with someone?" Klaas snapped at the servant.

"I am sorry, sir, but you asked us to inform you if we found anything unusual, or important in the suite of rooms we are cleaning. I am sorry to disturb you but we found a gate in the courtyard wall. We have cleaned the gate and it opens onto the road behind the castle." The servant finished his answer and bowed obsequiously.

"Eureka! Thank you, goodman, you were absolutely correct to interrupt me. Your discovery solves a major problem of mine. Now, if you would be so good as to show this driver where to take his wagons, I would be greatly appreciative." The Seneschal's voice was much warmer as he addressed the servant this time.

"Yes, Sir, at once, sir." The vastly relieved servant replied as he headed toward the wagon driver.

Curiously they had just finished getting the suite of rooms cleaned and all of the sand moved out of the courtyard into the nesting room, when the egg search party returned. They had been extremely lucky, as they had arrived at the base of the mountains just as the dragon flock had returned for the night. It did take several days of stealthy observation before the found the dragon nest that they were looking for. Once they found the nest, they still had to wait until the female dragon left the cave, so they could remove one of the eggs. Unfortunately, dragon eggs do not come color coded so they could only hope that Sir Nykhölâz was correct when he said the largest egg should be a gold dragon's egg.

The trip back did take several days longer, though, because they didn't want to bounce the egg out of the wagon. Or worse yet, spring the stove door open and have hot coal bouncing around in a wooden wagon.

Sir Nykhölâz's 'nephew' had the wonderful job of tending the egg in the bouncing wagon. He was responsible not only to keep it covered with sand at all times; but also to turn the egg several times a day, in order to keep it heated as evenly as possible. As luck would have it, they arrived at the castle under the cover of darkness while almost everyone was in the main hall celebrating someone's birthday.

The servant who had suffered the Seneschal's ire those many days ago had been promoted to under clerk and served the Seneschal directly. And as luck would have it, he was on duty that night watching the Tradesman's Gate for the search party to return.

"Welcome back, Sir Nykhölâz, Lord Sinter has asked me to take you directly to your new quarters, and he hopes that they are appropriate. If you would follow me, I will take you there directly." The under clerk then bowed and mounted the horse that had been saddled for him, for just' this eventuality.

The search party and their guide arrived at the gate to the courtyard, and within a very short time, had everything transferred into the appropriate rooms Sir Nykhölâz was very appreciative as these quarters were the old Royal Suites and, of course, were very comfortable. To make things even better, unbeknownst to the Seneschal, there was a hidden passage to Sir Nykhölâz's old rooms in the castle.

"Please convey my gratitude to Lord Sinter, as these quarters will suffice quite nicely." Sir Nykhölâz politely informed the under clerk, and then returned to the nesting room to check on his nephew.

For the next several months, things went along quite nicely for all concerned in the castle. Sir Nykhölâz was able to spin a tale that he wanted to celebrate the holidays with his old friends and get acquainted with some new friends. He also explained that he would like to resume his old post of adviser to the king. The King and Queen were very happy to welcome Sir Nykhölâz back to the court; but they weren't as happy as the Seneschal was. With Sir Nykhölâz now taking a highly visible place in the court and even acting as host for the myriad of parties that were being held, the Seneschal was able to accomplish a lot more of his work, in the background.

Sir Nykhölâz's 'nephew' steadfastly cared for the dragon's egg all hours of the day and night, and kept both the Seneschal and the Queen updated on its growth and perceived health.

Everything was proceeding according to schedule, until The Devil Himself Murphy turned everything inside out and upside down. The Devil Himself Murphy appeared in the person of Lord MkKânke, a good for nothing hanger on, whose only reason for living in the castle was that he was a poor relation many times removed of the Queen. Queen Mâry took pity on him and the relatives who had been housing him and gave him a place in the castle. Ostensibly, he was responsible for overseeing the pages, but he refused to lower himself to do anything that even hinted of work. So, of course, that meant poor Lord Sinter had that duty as well as his normal duties of Seneschal. Of course The Devil Himself Murphy would choose the most inauspicious moment to make his presence known.

It was Sir Nykhölâz's 'nephew's' poor luck to run afoul of Lord MkKânke. Emmânuel was in such a hurry to give his news, that he forgot to use the secret passageway to his 'uncle' and instead appeared in the main hallway leading to his and his 'uncle's' quarters. Normally, this would not be a very big deal at all, as almost everyone in the castle knew and loved him. Unfortunately, he was dressed in his old worn out clothing that he wore when working in the sand, caring for the dragon egg. It was unfortunate in that Lord MkKânke was a stickler for protocol and propriety, the second thing that was unfortunate for Emmânuel that his stars were misaligned.

As he was rushing blithely to his doom late on the afternoon of the eve before Christmas, all he could think of was 'gotta tell Sir Nykhölâz that the egg is moving on its own,' Just as he turned the corner, his world as he knew it came to an abrupt end. He turned the corner just as Lord MkKânke occupied that same spot in the universe. And to make matters worse, since he was in a hurry, Emmânuel's momentum sent Lord MkKânke crashing to the floor. As soon as the pusillanimous Lord had regained his feet and saw who had so ignominiously insulted his dignity, he exploded a torrent of such vituperative language that it was a miracle that the stone walls of the castle didn't melt into a puddle.

Lord MkKânke decided to take advantage of the wonderful opportunity that had been thrust upon him.

"Pöntyfykâl and Heröðyuz take this piece of trash out of my sight and make sure that I never, and I do mean never see it again!"

Lord MkKânke's two ne'er do well relations did as ordered and grabbed Emmânuel roughly and hustled him out of their relative's sight. Luckily for Emmânuel, both Pöntyfykâl and Heröðyuz had more brains than most people, including Lord MkKânke, gave them credit for. So instead of following their orders to the unseemly conclusion they only stuffed a gag in Emmânuel's mouth, and bound his hands together before stuffing him in some closet near their quarters. Pöntyfykâl and Heröðyuz had realized the dire catastrophe that carrying out their orders exactly would entail, and wanted no part of it.

Unbeknownst to anyone, one of the pages that Lord MkKânke should have been overseeing observed the collision and overheard Lord MkKânke's orders. Since all of the pages absolutely detested and abhorred Lord MkKânke as he made them all feel strange when the lord leered at them. The page scurried along to finish his errand for the Queen before looking for the Seneschal to inform him of what he had seen.

Meanwhile, back in the nesting room, everything was in a complete uproar for not only was the egg now rocking back and forth, but it was almost completely uncovered. Since it was now very visible, everyone who looked in could see small cracks occurring across the visible surface.

Just as a small hole started to appear in the shell, both the Seneschal and Sir Nykhölâz arrived. The first words out of Sir Nykhölâz's mouth were;

"Where is my 'nephew', he is supposed to be taking care of the egg?"

One of the servants who were assigned to those quarters looked around with a startled look.

"He isn't with you? He left quite awhile ago to tell you that the egg is moving." The startled servant squeaked out.

Before Sir Nykhölâz could respond, a page came running into the room.

"Lord Sinter, Lord Sinter, Lord MkKânke's men took Emmânuel! And he told them to kill him..................." That was all the page could get out before both Sir Nykhölâz and the Seneschal began firing off one question after another at the poor page.

When they both had drained as much information as possible from him, Lord Sinter spoke up.

"Sir Nykhölâz, as much as you want to go and look for your 'nephew'; I will have to do that for you. Your place is here, in case the egg hatches before we can get Emmânuel back. You are the only person who has any experience with dragons, so your place is here, as much as you or I wish it otherwise."

"Unfortunately, you are right, Seneschal, I will do as you suggest, but please hurry he means a lot to me and more to the Kingdom than you can imagine. Plus, I want to have 'words' with that craven bastard Lord MkKânke, he is a right piece of work!" Sir Nykhölâz spat out the as if would leave a bad taste in his mouth.

"Don't worry about that idiot, Sir Nykhölâz, I will take care of him so there will be no dirt on your hands." With that, Klaas leaned forward and whispered into Sir Nykhölâz's ear.

"There are still the lost dungeons, don't forget." With that the Seneschal and the page were on their way to recover Emmânuel.

Sir Nykhölâz quickly began firing orders right and left;

"You and you, go to the kitchen and bring me back several bowls of chopped raw meat. If anyone gives you grief, tell them I said it was for the King's Christmas present."

"You go and get several containers of water, and a bottle of wine for me." Sir Nykhölâz then headed into the nesting room without even bothering to see if his orders were being carried out.

Lord Sinter and the page stopped by the Guard Barracks and picked up two of the meanest looking guards there. The Seneschal just happen to know that Lord MkKânke went out of his way to make their lives miserable, because of his perceived greatness. He knew that those two guards would follow his orders unquestioned.

Now, the tables were about to be turned as the page and the Seneschal with the guards arrived outside Lord MkKânke's quarters just as Pöntyfykâl and Heröðyuz did. As luck would have it, the two guards' cousins just happened to pass by on their way off duty. Before Lord MkKânke or his toadies could respond, the Seneschal ordered the two newly arrived guards to throw Lord MkKânke into his quarters and to not let him out until he so ordered. The guards responded immediately with malice; while Lord MkKânke was being confined, the two original guards had taken the two toadies captive as well.

The Seneschal then sent the page to inform Sir Nykhölâz that the first steps toward recovering his 'nephew' had been completed. Then he turned to his guards and said forcefully;

"To the Widow's Rampart!"

None too gently, the guards joyfully complied and several minutes later arrived at one of the highest and most desolate spots in the whole castle. The ramparts on this part of the castle overlooked a drop of several hundred feet. With a pool of boiling mud being the main feature of the ground far below.

"Tie them both up and gag them!"

The Seneschal's order was quickly carried out as was the next one.

"Grab that rope over there and use it to tie the legs of each of them together."

Once the rope was firmly attached to Pöntyfykâl's legs, the Seneschal walked over next to him and told one of the guards;

"Now, help me throw him over the side."

Once that was accomplished, with both the Seneschal and the guard holding on to Pöntyfykâl's rope; Klaas told the other guard,

"Remove his gag."

Before the gag was even halfway out of Heröðyuz's mouth he tried to speak. Once the gag was completely removed, he began singing like a songbird. Before he was halfway through with his confession, Lord Sinter and the other guard had pulled Pöntyfykâl back over to their side of the parapet.

"I'll be back to deal with those two, in a while, keep them gagged and if they give you any trouble throw them over the side, without a rope this time." The Seneschal then turned and left rather quickly to rescue Emmânuel.

Luckily for Pöntyfykâl and Heröðyuz, Emmânuel was exactly where they said he would be and was unharmed. Hungry and thirsty, of course, but otherwise in good shape.

"We need to hurry, the dragon is ready to hatch at any moment if it hasn't already. We don't have a moment to lose, so let's go." As he was speaking, the Seneschal was busy untying Emmânuel and straightening out his clothes as he went. Then without another word they were off to see the egg.

Emmânuel and Lord Sinter arrived at the nesting room, just' in the nick of time, as the dragon's snout was beginning to poke through the hole in the shell. Emmânuel ran to the egg without saying hello to anyone, including his 'uncle'.

Once he reached the egg, nothing and no one else existed, after that, things slowed way done. It seems the dragonet had worn itself out and was taking a nap. Sir Nykhölâz sent most of the chopped meat back to the kitchen, keeping a small amount, just in case.

Several hours later, everyone had either left to go to their own quarters or had fallen asleep where they were sitting. Emmânuel was asleep on a thick pad, with his arms wrapped around the egg. Sir Nykhölâz, unfortunately, had to go back to his quarters and get dressed in all of his court finery, or as a good friend of ours likes to say, "all the vainglorious frippery". He had to attend the Royal Christmas Eve Ball and he was already late. He was hoping to make a very quick appearance and then head to bed.

But it seems that plan, as is true of most plans of mice and men, was doomed to failure. It seems that Sir Nykhölâz had forgotten one teeny tiny little thing, he was the guest of honor at the ball. That, of course, meant he would be there until the wee hours of the morning. The only good thing that he could think of was that at least the gift exchange wasn't until the early afternoon for the adults.

Christmas morning dawned gloriously, at least for those who were awake to witness it. For all through the castle not a sound was heard, not even a mouse, but hark is that not a dragon I hear? While the castle inhabitants slumbered away with visions of comets and meteors dancing through their heads, Emmânuel awoke slowly to a wonderfully warm and fuzzy feeling. He felt safe and at peace, as never before, and as his senses slowly awakened, his eyes fluttered open. And what to his surprise did he see? But a glorious golden dragon with eyes of the deepest sapphire, as he lost himself in those loving eyes, he heard a mellifluous voice speaking in his head.

'I love you Emmânuel, now and forever, my name is Mychhâyl and we are dragon and rider.'

Emmânuel was shocked at what was occurring, and he tried to rise, but Mychhâyl had taken the place of the egg and his forelegs and tail were wrapped around him.

'If I let you up, will you bring us both food, and then cuddle some more? I like cuddling.' Mychhâyl sent to Emmânuel.

To say that Emmânuel was stunned at the question would be making a huge understatement. So he said the first thing that popped into his head.

"Of course, Mychhâyl, I am hungry, too, and I also love to cuddle."

The totally unexpected response caused Emmânuel to blush bright enough to light up the room.

'It's okay, Emmânuel you can call me love, I love you, too, you know. You don't need to speak to me out loud unless you really want to; all you have to do is think my name, or my love and then think what you want to tell me. Now go get us some food and hurry back.' Mychhâyl sent to his bonded.

By the time Sir Nykhölâz was coherent enough to remember that he had a hatching dragon to check on, the sun was nearly at its zenith. After quickly splashing some water on his face and body, he then dried off and dressed in another set of court regalia. Once he was dressed appropriately, he headed to the secret passageway and on to his 'nephew'. By the time he arrived at the nesting room his 'nephew' had finished feeding his dragon and the two were napping. The dragon's head was in Emmânuel's lap and a look of utter bliss was on his 'nephew's' face.

'Hmmm, well, it looks as if I am too late for Plan A, but I still have Plan B. Now all I have to do is wake up Emmânuel without disturbing his dragon.' Mused Sir Nykhölâz.

Meanwhile back at Lord MkKânke's quarters, the Seneschal was reading the riot act to Lord MkKânke and his lickspittle cronies. When he had finished, he told Pöntyfykâl and Heröðyuz that they had ten minutes to vacate the castle, and they had better not ever be seen there again.

"As for you, 'Lord' MkKânke the penalty for impersonating royalty is banishment and the penalty for trying to kill a potential heir to the throne is beheading; as I am sure you well know. However, both of those punishments are far too good for the ilk of you; instead, you are banished from the castle and indentured to the owner of the Honey Wagon, as his assistant for the rest of your natural life. In such case as you decide to do something stupid, like trying to escape, all of the Kingdom's Guards and Soldier have orders to kill you on sight; so go ahead." Klaas then turned towards the two waiting guards.

"Get him out of my sight, and take him to his new job." With that, the Seneschal left and headed to the throne room for the gift giving ceremony.

When he arrived at the throne room, Klaas realized that he was actually early instead of late. He gave the room a quick looking over and just as he finished, the King and Queen arrived and took their seats on the appropriate thrones. Once they were seated, the doors were opened and the rest of the invited guests entered. Well, almost all of the invited guests, the Queen was casually looking around for Sir Nykhölâz as she was scheduled to be the first gift giver. Just as she was about to give up, Sir Nykhölâz and his 'nephew' strolled in, followed by some sort of covered conveyance.

"Merry Christmas, your majesties and all of their guests, it is with great pleasure that I present his Majesty King Jözeph with his Christmas Present from his loving wife Queen Mâry. But before I do that, I have to apologize to the Queen, as the present I will be presenting isn't exactly the one she requested. However, I think she will agree with me that this new one is far better than even she could have hoped for. And now, without further ado, may I present your son his Royal Highness Crown Prince Emmânuel, and his Dragon, Mychhâyl............." The throne exploded into a riotous cacophony as soon as he said your son.

When Sir Nykhölâz said the word 'however', Emmânuel had turned and uncovered Mychhâyl, who then joined him standing next to Sir Nykhölâz and then bowed to the King and Queen.

"My job is done, your majesty, I have done as your father requested. I have trained your son as I would have trained my own. My time here is over, and I bid you adieu." With that, Sir Nykhölâz vanished from sight.

From his new vantage point high over Prezbyteryâ, he looked down at friends' young and old waved at them and said.

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good life"

 

 

Co-Author's Note:

Thank you for reading my latest Christmas Story, and I hope that you enjoyed it.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanza, Buon Natale, Feliz Navidad, Happy Kwanzaa, Holy Ramadan, Frohe Weihnachten! ,Christmas Alegre! ,Joyeux Noel!,God Jul! , Glaedelig Jul! , Nadolig Llawen , Gledelig Jul, Nollaig Shona Duit , Mele Kalikimaka.

The Story Lover

Please send all comments to Jonah Timoty Campbell-Forte

 

Editor's Notes:

Thanks, TSL, for another wonderfully exciting Christmas story. I never would have expected Dragons, in a TSL story.

I wonder what will happen to these people. When will we get chapter 2?

Grin!

Darryl AKA The Radio Rancher

Author's Note:

Unca Darryl there won't be a chapter Two until Unca TSL lets me at the keyboard again. 

Jonah