The dragon lay facing southwest, this year his eyes had never opened, his breath was so faint you could not feel it. He had become so thin that his ribs stood out stark. For generations he had been on guard, protecting Elmet. Now old age was biting at his bones, and his scales felt so dry. The time had arrived for him to transform. Merlin smiled and called for the sword, he drove it deep into the heart of the old dragon. Tomorrow the King’s son would leave Elmet in a great ship. Tonight the dragon would sleep, whilst Merlin stood guard.
When I saw this prompt it offered me so many tales, but the death of Napoleon Bonaparte won out [a broken dream ] now it’s Merlins turn to talk. Mike