Storybook - Namokata and the Dragon

In ancient times, the Red Mane served the Balaur. As proof of loyalty, every full moon the Mau had to offer one of their children as a sacrifice to the Balaur.

The night before the full moon, the shamans would all meet and decide which child would be chosen. The next morning, a white flag would flutter in front of that child's house.

Though they were sad, the parents knew that being sacrificed was an honour. The sacrifice bought the protection and strength of the Balaur.

One month, a small child named Namokata was chosen. His parents had died when he was but a cub, so his grandmother had raised him in their hut in the deep woods.

It was said he heard things other children did not. Everybody in the village thought he was a strange, spooky child, and they would not miss him if the Balaur ate him.

The day before the sacrifice, he was not allowed to eat or drink anything but clear spring water to purify his body. As twilight fell, he was taken into a clearing in the forest and left alone to await the Balaur.

Namokata sat there all alone, waiting. He was not afraid.

Even when he heard strange voices, like the pines rustling against each other, whispering in his ears, he was not afraid. He listened to the voices.

They said they were the spirits of the children who had died in this glade. They told him to run. He did not. He was not afraid.

Seeing that Namokata was completely unafraid, the spirits of the dead children realised he could be the one to free them.

As Namokata watched in amazement, a blade appeared on the ground before him, thin as paper and bright as silver. "This is the blade forged from all the years we never lived," said the ghosts.

"Take it and cut the Balaur open. In his belly are our corpses. Bury us so that we may rest."

Namokata heard the thundering footsteps of the Balaur crashing through the forest. He picked up the blade and waited.

The Balaur entered the glade, too fat to fly, his belly bloated with all the children he had eaten. Namokata sprang at him with a growl.

With one stroke, he cut the Balaur open and the corpses of all the children tumbled out. "Thank you," said the ghosts as they flew back into their bodies, ready to be buried at last.

From that day on, no more children were sacrificed to the Balaur.