Brunhilda/Stories

General Stories Misc

Quotes

Dragon Story Episodes
Flamewyrm and Butterfly

The Flamewyrm's earliest memory

was of a tiny butterfly alighting on the

tip of her snout after she descended

the volcano as a hatchling.

"Who are you?" asked the

curious Flamewyrm.

"I am Butterfly," answered the

tiny creature.

The Flamewyrm believed she and this

small insect were two of a kind, as

they both bore wings of brightest red.

They spent a summer of laughter and

joy together, but as autumn's chill

crept across the land, it came time

for Butterfly to depart.

The aged butterfly lay on the tip of

the Flamewyrm's snout, and said in a

small, weak voice, "I'm afraid my life

is at its end."

"No!" cried the Flamewyrm. "Our

friendship is still young, and already

we must say good-bye?"

"No," replied Butterfly. "Not 'already.'"

"Our lifetimes have a different worth.

I have lived, had children, and grown

old—while to you, but an instant has

passed."

"You aren't like me," said Butterfly.

"You are far, far more special."

And with that, she moved no more.

For centuries, the Flamewyrm lay

dormant in the fields, dreaming of

her time with Butterfly. Then humans

came and rent the fields asunder.

Enraged, the Flamewyrm set the

human colony ablaze and left to

make a home for herself elsewhere.

In their terror, the humans began

referring to her as the Wrathwyrm.

But the Flamewyrm paid them no

mind.

Humans pay no heed to short-lived

insects, after all. And if life span

determines worth, what reason have

dragons to value humans?

"I am more magnificent than any

other being," mused the Flamewyrm.

"That is why I live the longest."

But that thought brought her no joy.

She would have rather lived as the

tiny butterfly.

If only it could have been so...

The Flamewyrm again shut herself

away in a volcano that none dared

approach. She had no visitors, but

also avoided her hated farewells.

The years passed in solitude, and

the Flamewyrm's memories of her

friend faded until they seemed only

a distant dream—which was exactly

how she wished it to be.

Ages elapsed, and the shape of the

land itself shifted. There seemed no

creature of merit to the immortal

Flamewyrm.

But one day, her ears perked to

whispers of a human king, Alberius,

to whom ancient dragons had been

swearing allegiance.

The Flamewyrm traveled to the

Windwyrm's nest. "Why aid them?"

she asked. "It is foolishness! All they

do is scrabble about and then perish.

They are nothing like us!"

The Windwyrm smiled. "That is for the

best. Short-lived they may be, but

they leave their mark upon the

world. They are...beautiful."

At this the Flamewyrm scoffed,

though she was beset with thoughts

of the small butterfly she befriended

all those many years ago.

The sight of her fluttering through the

air truly WAS beautiful...

Rearing her head, the Flamewyrm

saw a swarm of butterflies in the field,

frolicking on red wings identical to

those of her long-gone friend.

At this, she suddenly wondered if her

friend had left a mark upon the world

after all. For it seemed her life—and

those of all creatures—wove together

over time to form a greater tapestry.

Perhaps small creatures were just as

deserving of the respect they showed

to those larger than themselves.

"Preposterous," thought the stubborn

dragon. "We are the superior beings."

It would be some time until the

Flamewyrm came around.

Not, in fact, until she met a certain

prince...