Dragonocracy (Deleted Stories)

Dragonocracy – Part 1

Every five years, the same thing would happen. Up, from beneath the surface of the dreaming lake, would come three large scaly heads on three long, scaly necks; the head of a blue dragon; the head of a yellow dragon and the head of a red dragon and then they would roar and bellow and shoot flames from their nostrils and all of the gnomes of the gnome villages round about would come out to the lake and vote for the dragon that they wished to rule over them by casting their ballots into the waters of the lake.

“It’s dragonocracy. The best system in all the world”, the Elder of one of the Gnome villages would proudly tell his people as he watched the spectacle.

But then, one day, a young upstart gnome named Nimrod thrust his hand in the air and asked, “Why do we always have to vote for dragons. Why don’t we just run things ourselves?”.

The Gnome elder rolled his eyes, “Because, stupid. Dragons are powerful and strong and much
cleverer than us with their larger brains. No gnome could ever run things as well as a dragon”.

Nimrod wasn’t convinced, “But they take half of everything we grow and produce and get fat while many of our young gnomes go hungry”, he said.

The elder just pointed a stubby Gnome finger towards the surface of the lake as, across it, Nimrod saw billions of bright stars and fireworks of hundreds of different colours spread.

“They make the lake dream”, said the elder; his eyes starting to glaze over as he looked at the pretty kaleidoscopic patterns on the lake surface, “Isn’t it wonderful?”.

Then, scooping up a bubble that had bobbed up to the surface of the lake and had a tiny, dream
ballerina inside, he handed it to Nimrod and the young gnome held it for a few seconds, watching as the little dancer pirouetted round and round before disappearing as the bubble, pricked by the tips of her toes, suddenly popped.

“I have my own dreams”, said Nimrod defiantly, “And one of them is a Gnomeland where Gnomes rule themselves”.

The Elders face grew into a scowl and, prodding Nimrod in the chest with his walking stick, he said, “Well, if you don’t like it here then why don’t you go and live in a dictatorship like The Socialist republic of Elfland or Pixie-topia”.

But, just then, Nimrod had an even better idea.
“I know what I’ll do”, he declared, his eyes brightening, “I’ll dive under the dreaming lake and find out the truth about those dragons”.

The elder pointed his walking stick at Nimrod again but this time his face was growing red and his eyes starting to blaze with fury.

“Traitor!”, he yelled, “Traitor!”.

Then, suddenly, where he had pointed his stick, a large letter ‘T’ magically appeared upon Nimrod’s chest and, the next thing he knew, his hands were being seized by burly Gnome policemen and pinned behind his back as manacles were snapped onto his wrists.

“This man is a traitor. A threat to Gnomeland security. Take him and lock him up in jail without trial”, the Elder ordered.

Nimrod tried to struggle but it was no good; the manacles were magical ones that he, with all his strength, could never have broken and the angry Gnome guards were armed with sharp spears and so, while Gnomes all around him scowled angrily at him, spat and called him traitor, he was dragged
away and locked up in the village jail.

Dragonocracy – Part 2

All day and night, Nimrod spent in that jail cell with nothing to do except read the graffiti left by
ancient prisoners on its walls and listen to the crowds of angry Gnomes outside chanting, “Traitor! Traitor! Execute the traitor!”.

“They won’t have to execute me”, thought Nimrod, wincing and looking down at the magical letter that had been placed on his chest and was now beginning to burn itself deeper, “This magical brand will pierce my heart, eventually”.

But then, as he was looking again at the graffiti on the walls; things like “Gnome Chomsky was here”, he noticed a very peculiar inscription written in a circle around a pentacle,

“As long as the dream of freedom can survive, so shall my spirit remain within this world. My name was Guantanamus the Gnome; the only one of six who refused the dragons gold. Say my name and I shall be with you”.

“Guantanamus was obviously locked up on mental health grounds”, thought Nimrod aloud,
dismissing the writing on the wall.

But then, miraculously, in front of him, he saw a strange glowing gnome appear.

“I am here my brother. Whoever seeks freedom is my friend”, said the ghostly figure.

“Who -?”, blurted Nimrod, too flabbergasted to say any more.

“I am Guantanamus the Gnome”, it replied, solemnly, “Once, I was a member of the council of Gnomes who ran Gnomeland and wrote its constitution. All Gnomes, in those days were equal and free to say and do as they pleased without fear but then the dragon came, out of the lake and it bribed all of the other five council members with gold. Seductive and yet lethal gold that poisoned their hearts and minds making them into its slaves. They tore up the constitution and, because I refused to take the dragon’s gold, they threw me in this jail; branded me a traitor but, though my body rotted away, my spirit survived, inhabiting the walls of this old cell and, after my limbs could move no more, my disembodied soul picked up a sharp stone and scratched out that graffiti you saw on the wall”.

“So, the dragonocracy hasn’t always been here?”, asked Nimrod; realization and a sense of relief flooding over him.

“The dragon told us that it’s kind lay eggs in different nations and, after establishing control, the hatchling dragon will normally live off of the gullibility of the natives”, said Guantanamus.

“That must be why they order Gnome armies to invade other nations and leave dragon eggs
behind”, said Nimrod, remembering his gnome brothers and sisters who had died fighting in foreign lands.

But then, something about what Guantanamus had told him puzzled Nimrod.

“You mentioned only one Dragon”, he said, “But there are three dragons; a red one; a blue one and a yellow one”.

“I only saw one dragon, a blue dragon”, replied Guantanamus, “But others may have come to the village since then. I don’t know. I’ve been locked in this cell for so long”.

But then the manacles fell away from Nimrods wrists and the door of Nimrods cell unlocked itself and the ghostly figure said, “Thieves and murderers have come into this cell and I have not aided them, no matter how they pleaded but you are the kind of prisoner I have waited decades for; a prisoner of conscience; someone who can really end the dragons control over the gnomes”.

Rising to his feet, Nimrod thanked the ghost and headed towards the door.

“The ‘T’ on your chest”, said Guantanamus as, waving goodbye to Nimrod , he slowly vanished, “Can mean ‘Traitor’ or ‘Terrorist’ but, to me, it stands for ‘Truth’”.

Dragonocracy – Part 3

There was only one place that Nimrod could go now. Whether he lived or died didn’t matter to him but he had to dive into the shining surface of the dreaming lake and find out, for himself, what
darkness lay beneath.

Creeping past a jail guard who was sitting, mesmerized by a dream filled bubble in his hand, the young Gnome made his way through the centre of the moonlit village square towards the lake and then, removing his shirt and seeing that the ‘T’, which had originally been only a stain upon its front, was now a scar upon his chest, he took a deep breath and dove into the water.

Gnomes, thankfully, evolved as they are from ancient mer-creatures, are able to close up their
nostrils and hold their breath for up to at least half an hour and so, swimming down to the
bottom of the lake was no problem for Nimrod.

But then the sights that greeted him upon the bottom of that lake were so astounding that he
almost gasped.

There seemed to be an entire city of white marble. The remnants of a long lost but far greater, Gnome civilization with banks and shops and temples.

He swam towards a large monument with a statue of some ancient Gnome dragon slayer mounted upon a charging horse and loosened an antique sword, made of a strange green metal, from its marble hands whilst keeping an eye out for the dragon.

Amazingly, the sword was not rusted, though the iron shield that was held in the statues other hand was almost completely eaten away by rust

Nimrod felt a gentle tapping on his right shoulder and, turning, he saw what looked like a mermaid but she was holding some kind of placard in her webbed fingers.

“Down with the patriarchal oppression of the Mermen”, it said and, behind her, he could now see other feminist mermaids approaching, all carrying placards and they looked angry with him, perhaps because he was holding a sword.

There was no way, however, to explain to them what he was doing; not without opening his mouth and drowning and then, suddenly, he felt placards raining down upon his head as Feminist mermaids started to attack him from all sides.

“Ladies, please”, he thought as he struggled to shield himself from their blows, “I understand your grievances but I’m trying to slay a dragon”.

But, just then, the pounding of the placards against his skull ceased as the mermaids quickly
dispersed and then, looking round about him, he realized the reason for their hasty withdrawal.

Out of the doorway of a large marble bank; like brightly coloured paint being squeezed out of three tubes, he saw the red, yellow and blue coloured heads and long necks of the dragons emerging.

But then, astounded, he saw that the three necks were not attached to three separate bodies but to one jet black and enormous, scaly body.

“So, the elections were all a sham”, he thought, hiding behind a statue of some ancient Gnome
senator, “No matter which dragon we voted for, we got the same dragon”.

Fortunately, the dragon had not seen him but then, as he watched, he heard the three-headed
monster begin to speak.

“Friends”, said the red head.

“Gnome men”, said the yellow head.

“Countrymen”, said the blue head, “Lend me your pointy ears”.

“It seems to be practicing its oratory for some reason”, thought Nimrod but he then remembered that, after every dragon election, the winning dragon would always make an inaugural speech.

And then, coughing to clear the soot out of its three fire breathing throats, the dragon swam back up towards the surface of the lake.

“Our new elected ruler”, said an elder gnome, pointing at the ripples appearing on the lake surface, “Is about to speak”.

All of the gnomes on the lakeside gathered closer to the edge, applauding and cheering and waving flags of the colour of the winning dragon and then the head and long neck of the red dragon burst upwards as tall as a geyser from the lake.

“My fellow Gnomerians”, said the red dragon head, speaking in a slow, dignified manner, “I stand before you here today, truly humbled by the task ahead of me; grateful for the trust that you have bestowed and mindful of sacrifices made by the dragons of old”.

But, while the dragon was speaking, unbeknown to the Gnomes on the lake shore, Nimrod, below the surface, was battling with the snapping and fire-breathing jaws of its other two heads as well as its swinging, spiky- club like tail and then, to the shock of all the Gnomes, the red dragon let out a terrible scream and dragon blood stained the shining, mirror like surface of the dreaming lake.

Then, fingers digging firmly into soil and grass, Nimrod dragged himself up out of the lake and onto the shore.

“I have seen below the surface of the dreaming lake”, shouted Nimrod, climbing to his feet, “And what you are voting for is not three separate dragons but only one dragon with three heads. No matter which you vote for, you get the same thing; the same selfish, greedy, callous beast”.

But then, from behind him, Nimrod heard the red dragon call out , “Assassin! Terrorist!” and, in the next instant, Nimrod was surrounded and overwhelmed by Gnome policemen with clubs and felt himself being pushed and kicked to the ground.

“Assassin!”, cried the red dragon again as Nimrods face was pushed into the grass by a policeman’s hand, “Execute him”.

Nimrod felt sure then that he was destined to die; the point of a spear touching him between the shoulders and threatening to press deeper.

But, suddenly, from behind him, other voices rose up.

“Look!”, they cried, “The surface of the lake. It’s becoming clear. The dragon’s dreams are fading”.

The blow that Nimrod had delivered the dragon may not have been fatal but it had been enough to weaken the dragon and cause the illusions with which the dragon had covered the lake surface to
disappear and now the waters were clear again and all of the Gnomes could see the body of the three headed dragon with Nimrods sword sticking out of its scaly back and, even the policeman holding Nimrod, so long seduced by illusion, could now not resist the temptation to gaze upon the truth; their grip upon him loosening as they ran to join the crowds of Gnomes peering into the lake.

“It’s true”, said one of the Gnome elders; he who had placed the ‘T’ upon Nimrods chest, “Nimrod told the truth”.

Now, the anger that had been directed towards Nimrod was turned towards the dragon as Gnomes picked up sharp stones and sticks and anything they could lay their hands on and started to hurl them at the beast.

“Kill the dragon!”, they all shouted, “He has tricked us! He has used us!”.

“Stop!”, shouted Nimrod, now rushing to his feet and pushing his way to the front of the angry crowd, “We must not become a multi-headed dragon ourselves. Gnomes are wise and merciful
creatures. We must be better than the Gnomes we have been; be merciful and understanding.
The dragon as our ally rather than as our master might be of use to us all”.

Most of the crowd were so enraged that they didn’t want to hear Nimrods pleas but enough listened and prevented their glorious revolution from descending into bloody retribution.

After that, the dragon was made to wear three collars around its three necks; each attached to a strong steel chain so that the dragon had no choice but to serve the good of the Gnomes.

“Let the chains we place upon this beast”, said Nimrod, “Serve to remind us that the people are the rightful owners of their government. It is their property and they should have the rights of
ownership over it but also the responsibilities to see that it does its job properly”.