Monster with a large open mouth with teeth, a wavy scaly body and a small tail. The beak turns into a smooth, slightly flared chalice. The tail turns into a short, tapered mouthpiece with a dented edge.
SILVER METAL
SILVERSMITH IS UNKNOWN
NETHERLANDS 1780 1800
Object Tale (Biography)
It was not like any other day. The sky, the soil, the water, the land was the same as it was in the Netherlands, but it was ordinary at all for the young, Dutch silversmith who was commissioned by the mysterious man in black cloth. He was asked to create a whistle that whispers and only one of the most delicate and lonely creatures can hear. This whistle was for a dragon, it would sing the most beautiful sound to its ears to ease its fears. It would guide it through the sky when he opens his wings to fly. It would call for help when the master has some problem to dealt.
So, the silversmith chose the finest sheet of silver metal to begin his battle. “I’m going to make the most beautiful whistle there is!” said the silversmith. As the silver sheet in front of him woke up to see the world and its creator. “These hands that demands me to be the best there is. Sorry for that I was asleep, but the road we are about to take seems steep” The whistle could only guess and the rest was faith for it did not know the end of it all, it could only hope to become whole. All were soon to be revealed to it when it started to squeak. “Hey, I’m getting dizzy and everything is upside down” as the silversmith bend it round and round to shape a tube that would blow the tune. Soldered, burnt and hurt, the whistle began to sob as the silversmith began to nod. “Ah! there it is. It is coming together, and it should be the best I’ve ever done so far.” The tube of silver couldn’t believe “these words that I hear, I shall not fear as he is taking care of me very dear for that I shall become the best for him” It was tired, been through a lot yet knowing less than it got. So was the silversmith when his kid walked in the workshop to tell his father that it was time to gather for the supper. “I can finally rest as I have a lot more left for, I will be the best” thought the silver tube.
“What is it?” asked the kid. “it’s just a rounded-up silver plate but it will soon become a whistle that will sing for its master” said the father.
For the first time, it could know more, more about the best it will become. “So, I will sing? I shall have the nicest voice there is then.”
It didn’t know all the hammering, bending and soldering for it to be shaped into the fine whistle would hurt this much. But the silver tube was determined not to make a sound.
So, the days went by as they worked together the father and the son. The whistle did not say a word anymore for that it already knew so much more.
The whistle was almost complete, it only needed some scale to its tail. It was a dragon whistle after all so what used could it be if there is no way to show. So, the silversmith began to carve the scales. It was painful. For every scale there is, the whistle wished to exist. “through pain, comes the fame!” it thought. Then there was the head to put it at rest, the eyes as it needed to see to guide. Finally, the mouth for it ought to sing the mystical sound.
“There it is! It is finally alive” said the silversmith in joy for it was his best work he has done in long. He cleaned the whistle. Brushed the dust from its crust and varnished to make it shine. And just like that it was gone from his hands as the manner of kids slowly descend.
“I’m going to play it now. I will play the first song for that I have waited so long” said the kid. But no. It was not for the kid nor the silversmith. It already had a master who couldn’t return any faster.
They waited and waited for the man to appear as the whistle’s joy began to disappear. “I’ve come this far to to become the best whistle. To whisper to the ears of those whom the sky fears. Now, now I sit here alone without a purpose, just waiting to be purchased. What a shame and what a waste of fame.” the whistle said angrily as it couldn’t be of any use.
“I’ve done my best, yet it still sits in the place that I set.” said the silversmith sadly. So, the mysterious man never showed his appearance, and no one knew the faith of his disappearance. “This must be my punishment for that I might not be the best the master faked his own vanishment! I don’t even know how I sound yes. Before I could even be found here, I will be lost with a master as ghost. What a shame that I am alive when there is nowhere to arrive. "said the whistle. Then it sobbed and cried so did the silversmith as he couldn’t show his pride. The moon and the sun passed by and there was the silversmith’s sun with his puppy eyes. “Can I play with it now?”
“Yes! Please. Finally, someone who want to play me. I cannot believe that it is happening, but it was only fair for that I suffered along the way I deserve to sing away.” said the whistle in excitement.
But suspicious was the silversmith “Was it even real or just a myth? Was there ever a man who couldn’t claim his property or was I just the lucky one to give the whistle its liberty?” Some become the best just to be alive. “Just as the whistle for it alone ceased to exist for long, so long that it could create a man before I even began” thought the silversmith. The whistle was there waiting so he said decided that it would be a shame not to hear how it sounds. “What the heck! Don’t tilt your neck. I will grand your wish as the whistle is yours to sing” the father said to the boy. The kid jumped up and down with joy as his father was proud of his boy.
It was not awake the whistle as it didn’t know its purpose other than to decay day by day. When the kid finally picked it up from the table it cried with happiness “My wished are granted I can finally sing! I shall now sing the best melody for that I stay in everyone’s memory.” the whistle was the happiest. It was the silver metal sheet before it was rounded into a tube. Then the scales, the memories of every mark on its body, it was finally worth it.
The kid played the most suiting melody as it was some kind of remedy. “what a proud father I am, what a proud craftsman I am for that I gave life to two, one that was born out of love, the kind that ends in the sheets where kids not allowed but eventually come out and the other the noble sheet of silver plate that was carved and shaped” thought the silversmith while looking at his most beautiful creations. The kid’s playing was interrupted by the sounds of flapping wings in the distance searching for directions. So they sat for the arrival of the most unexpected guest. There he was with all his glory. Giant yet delicate. Fearless yet shy. “It’s a dragon! I sing for dragons” the whistle said as it greet its master “What an honour to be the one to unveil your wonder”
