They once had to slay a dragon.
The dragon lived in the tunnels, in the Notre Dame catacombs. Cold, dank. It had been nesting here for years, before the humans had put their little cathedral here. It would hunt, but only at night when the humans were not watching. There was lots of food - rodents and larger things that came to the rats and other vermin that were the dragon's favourite meals - and the dragon grew fat.
Then the dragon grew greedy, too. It wanted humans, as well. But the humans were wise, knowing of dragons. They had killed them before they came to this land. Their women had faces on their foreheads, so the dragons could not read their thoughts and riddles like they did with men. They lived in the mountains, which dragons hate. So the humans lived in their cathedral, in the nearby houses, and camps beyond the furthest walls of their home.
But the dragon was cunning, and one day he saw, during a rare sunny day, that sometimes when the worshipers came to the cathedral, they would leave the gate open. Then, in the night, it would kill. But it would not eat. No, it would just eat the flesh of the humans, and... leave the people who sacrificed the most, with horrible scars.
To add to its mutilation of their bodies, on important festival days, or when there were many visitors at the cathedral, it would take their bodies away. A priest would lead the service, as it was a special festival day - or as there was to be an important burial - and all the peasants would be in masses. The dragon would swoop down from above and take the bodies away, to burn a spell on the dragon's eyes.
Then the dragon would go back to the tunnels and go to work.
The night watchmen knew that it was protected by a certain order. There was magic in the cathedral that protected - or was it tortured? - by the order. The dragons feared it, and so did the citizens. The night watchmen were the warriors of the cathedral, the only ones that would ever destroy a dragon. And so they waited.
So they waited.
But never did the dragons come. The magic that the order used to protect the dragon would kill them, and the dragon knew it. Soon the people lost their fear, and the bishop and the priest spent more time looking after the cathedral itself, more than the events of the city.
For years, the dragon dreaded the magic, and avoided the cathedral. After all, it had many places to hunt in the city, and was happy hunting rats as he was happy digging out its lair deeper and deeper. Sometimes the night watchmen went down there, but they could not find the dragon. It preyed on them, but they had their pride, and so they held on.
They did not want to leave until the dragon was dead.
So they waited.
It was a rainy season that the night watchmen were gathered, in their weapons and armour, at the cathedral. The rain had stopped an hour ago, but the downpour would come again. They were gathered, just to walk the city streets, killing whatever they found and roaming around. It was how they stalked a dragon.
"You should have stayed up north. No pride, no glory."
The voice held a familiar tone and sound. It was the voice of the dragon, but not the dragon.
"Did you miss me, brother? It asked.
"They didn't feed you often enough. Do you want to come and get some more?
"They never came down to feed me.
"I was here all the time. What do you want? I'm here now. For a moment, the voice changed, and in a whisper, it said, "Do you want me, brother? It will just mean more of your own, will it?
"I was worried that you would be too small to come down here. Small things can eat very big things, you know.
It hissed again at its own reflection.
"I was worried about you. I'm coming up here to get you.
"Brother...
"Brother, when the time comes, I don't want you to have to do it, you know. You will have to do it.
"Where are you? the dragon asked, its voice a whine.
"I'm here and I'm coming up here. But to get you, I'm going to have to conquer the north first, you know... Nothing out here is bigger than me. Again, the voice changed, and in a whisper, from the other side of the cathedral, it said, I won't leave you if you don't want me. I love you. You're mine... It was a sorrowful whimper.
In a hiss, the dragon was gone.
They heard the mutterings of the dragon as it crawled down into the tunnels. They heard the creaking of the stone, one arm sliding along the stone, it scales catching in the cracks, then another arm. And the hissing again, in the dark of the tunnels.
"Brother...
"Brother, I did love you, brother. Now let me have one last meal."
The dragons heard their favourite meal growl.
And they did not go to the north.
They ran to the cathedral.
They were the liest of brothers for the dragon, the brother that went to the north when the dragon went south, and the brother that went to the south when the dragon went north. In their own ways, they were the same.
One might have been the fisherman, and the other, the hunter. One, the one that had eaten, and the other that did not.
One, the dragon, and the other, the brother, who went to the north.
One, the dragon, and one, who, when they saw they had hungry mouths, they looked at each other, and nodded.
One, the dragon, and one, the brother.
One, the dragon, and one, that had eaten.
One, the dragon, and one, who had a dragon in his belly.
One, the dragon, and one, that he was the bravest, and the strongest, of the dragons.
One, the dragon, and one, with a human in his belly.
One, the dragon. One, the hamburger.
Two, the night watchmen, who had come down to kill the dragon, which did not eat.
One, the dragon, and one, that did not swallow the human.
Two, the night watchmen, who had come down to kill the dragon, which did not eat.
One, the dragon, and one, who struggled from within.
Two, the watchmen, either of whom felt, as the dragons had felt, that the man inside was their brother.
One, the dragon, and one, that would never be one, again.
Two, the watchmen, who earned the protection and the glory of the cathedral.
One, the dragon, and one, that fought the order with his twin.
Two, the watchmen, who knew that the dragons' law was all that mattered.
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