|[For the dragon: What was it about Leonard that spurned you to stay at his side? How did you meet him?]|
Among all the dragons of the Union, the elderly and flightless green dragon was the one that one particular dragonkeeper had tended to the most.
As it had heard from him, it's wounds were far too great to be left unattended - the dragonkeeper, a tall, blond, imposing and yet gentle man, spoke commonly and highly of his life, his brothers, and what had been lost of his family to what he thought was deaf ears, yet curiously, the dragon had noticed, was always among the last of those who worked in the keep to return back home. Even as he spoke such joyful and proud stories to himself, applying the herbal salve to the numerous cuts and wounds, the dragon he had tended to couldn't help but notice the deep sadness that had been weaved beneath his tone.
...Leonard, similar to the Green Dragon itself, was an overall quiet man - it was the very first thing it had noticed as it lay eyes on him. Different from most other in the Union troupe, though the Green Dragon held firm belief that they would come to learn someday, that "Leonard" who spoke so frequently to it had held a special reverence for dragons. He had confessed it himself; he had hardly felt himself worthy of such work, and it shown: Words that spoke reassuringly yet not condescendingly, his head and gaze that was often lowered beyond necessity, and his respect which shown in his frequent journeys to find remedies and food of his own means. Even as lowly such a task as dragonkeeping was considered amongst his more "human" peers, it was none other than the observant Green Dragon - who had, for the most part, done little more than idly sit and sleep (so it had appeared) - that had noticed he not only thought the opposite, but far in contrast to whatever "lowly work" was... He had thought himself even lower.
It didn't know why the one who had given his heart to all things under his care had given it to all but himself, and it couldn't understand how. It had sacrificed its own self for the humans who had beaten and imprisoned it in return, and where other dragons had grown resentful and bitter, it instead had held faith and forgiveness - but still... It had never hated itself. It hurt it inside, that a human could do that to themselves.
So one day, as he had fed and tended to its wounds like any other day, the Green Dragon lifted its head, and spoke its first words to the dragonkeeper:
'Why must you treat yourself with such disrespect?'
There was a long silence - he hadn't reacted in the same fear so many other humans had to its speech, though the dragon had found little relief or joy in that comfort itself. Where there was little shock, the majority of his expression had been read with shame.
...It was from there that the Green Dragon, now having made itself known to have been listening to the many assumed solitary conversations Leonard had had, began to learn more about the man and his life. It learned why he had so often stayed within the company of it and the other dragons than return home. It learned about his affliction. About the life he wished he could have led if he hadn't been "Cursed." How he wanted to fix himself.
It had wanted to help. But still, the Green Dragon didn't fully understand. It didn't understand human morality - what it meant to hurt a child. The importance of innocence among humans. It understood pain, and of course, it understood very much that humans could and often would inflict it on others for their own gain. There were different types and degrees of pain; the sting of a skinned knee compared to the betrayal of a loved one was different. But the depth of such pains eluded it.
The Green Dragon thought and thought about his confession that day. Following that day, their discussions gradually became deeper - the dragon asked and listened to hear him speak of all manners regarding all manners of morality, equality, the war, and at times, it responded. Beyond mere appreciation for his company and what insight he had given into the lives of those creatures it had loved and watched over for so long, the dragon found that they had shared a set of ideals: a world without war, where humans, dragons, and all manner of creature could live in harmony... He had voiced his doubts of it at the time, and though it was hesitant to speak, the dragon voiced assurances that it could be done - surely, it had remembered a distant era when humans had cooperated with one another. Long, long ago.
...Of course, as comforting as its words were, it had sensed the dragonkeeper's doubt - at the time. The days passed, and alongside the violent tides of the war between humans and dragons, tensions between the two races grew. And as the elderly dragon's wounds increased, Leonard's concern did with it.
"Surely there must be a way..."
Fire. Blood. The screams of both children and adults alike. Through the smoke that had shrouded the keep in a thick smog, a man laid dead on the ground before the Green Dragon. An important man. He had never stood a chance... Not again him.
Had it been some sort of attempt at recompense for its betrayal that the Red Dragon had taken him away before he could finish the job? The Green Dragon stared quietly at the faintest glimpse of crimson scales, made murky through the smoke, and yet highlighted by the blaze, before silently turning its head down to the dead man beneath it.
His death had not been kind, the black cloth on his back further darkened by circled stains of red blood. It grew around the frozen body in a thick, deep red that reflected the flames from outside, splattered against the wooden walls and the worn scales of the dragon that looked down at the body in observant silence.
Its friend was gone. But still, he was in one piece. The Green Dragon knew what must be done.
...
The priest was no longer the man that the Green Dragon knew. In order to bring to life to the rich and vibrant community they had so often spoken about in their past, it had turned the corpse into a madman. Only days after it had been rescued and returned to the safekeep of their village, Leonard had already become his own worst fear - and whether it gladdened the dragon to see him free of his burdens or pained it to see Leonard no longer held in mind the "morality" or "innocence" he had weighed so much importance on in the past, it had, for the first time in a long while, no answer. If anything were to be said, however, it was that the bond they had forged from those days remained strong as ever. It often spoke words of hope and encouragement for the priest when he could find no words to say for the war-torn families and survivours that had lost everything. It often spoke only to him. After the first of the "incidents", when the last of the Leonard it knew still remained, he had come to the dragon, looking sick and pale as ever.
It thought about that day often.
There were times the Green Dragon wanted to ask him, 'Do you think it was worth it?' but, whenever it looked at those eyes, it found it no longer had the will to ask.
There were times that Leonard wanted to ask it, 'What have you done to me?' but as soon as he had found the will to speak it, he found that he no longer cared.
The dragon wondered certain days if, by some chance, it's intermingling in human affairs had led it to learn selfishness. Yet looking upon the village, the small, tender world it had always longed to see, and feeling the familiar hands of that friend tend to the worn and cracked scales as they always had, it thought back and never could remember a time it felt quite so happy.
