The Tale of Dif the Dragon

By R J Driscoll

When a fireworks lesson goes disastrously wrong, Dif - the only green dragon in a colony of red dragons - finds himself far from home and on a daring adventure. With only a frug prophecy, a mad magician and a collection of monsters with a passion for knitting to guide him, Dif must stop a terrible evil that is sweeping through Sittle Fire. But w

• Language: English
• Publisher: R J Driscoll
• Release date: Apr 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9781805410720

Book preview

PART I

A Meeting with Monsters

CHAPTER ONE

Being Green and Feeling Blue

Some mysteries are not overly mysterious, like a missing chocolate chip cookie from the biscuit tin or a cow appearing in your garden; you simply detect the biscuit thief or ask the cow how she came across your garden. The mystery then becomes entirely less mysterious, until, mysteriously, there is no mystery at all. However, the world of Sittle Fire is as mysterious as mysteries come: it is an entire planet completely undiscovered. To find the secret, you need to open a door in your mind – just ajar, just enough to allow the merry monsters, mad magicians and mumbles and grumbles of the sea to fill your imagination…

It is a crimson world where three suns jostle each other for the daytime stage, waistcoat-wearing monsters toast bazungas and dancing frugs sing. However, our story begins on the southernmost tip in a town ravaged by sand and sunbeams called Sparxeter. With its strict schools, manic marketplaces and bustling bars, at first glance, Sparxeter isn’t so different to an ordinary town. Yet, the town is home to some rather curious inhabitants… dragons.

Now, I am sure many of you have heard of a dragon before. Fantastical creatures with blood red scales and wild wings so powerful they could send an elephant flying. The dragons of Sparxeter are no different – their crimson scales glitter in the sunshine, their nostrils stream with smoke and their teeth are as sharp as kitchen knives. They are, in many ways, the terrifying creatures we have all read about in fairy tales… except these dragons have more manners than to chomp off a child’s head or to burn down a village. Indeed, they are an incredibly sociable and domestic bunch. The town boasts market stalls, book clubs, pubs, grubs, schools and even an ‘over-one-hundreds’ club for lonely pensioners. They plod their claws down sandy paths to pick up groceries and they laugh and drink with friends through scarlet jaws. They live comforted by routine and the reassurance that nothing will ever change: Sparxeter is sandy, school is still boring, and dragons are ALWAYS red.

Until, one day. On a cold and windy night, the harmony of sand and crimson was shattered; to the shock and horror of the colony a green dragon was born. Most dragons had never seen such a colour on another creature before and were both repulsed and curious to compare the sickly green of his scales alongside the powerful red of their own. Mother dragons gossiped excitedly outside playschool as they picked up their children and fathers laughed as they splashed their tankards together in Mr Sangria’s pub. What a silly sight indeed… a green dragon – who’d have thought of such a thing happening in the peaceful town of Sparxeter?

The mother and father of the green child, a handsome couple, so bright a red they were bordering fluorescent, ignored the snide remarks of the other dragons and loved him despite his clear differences to his fellow kind. They took pride in his unique appearance and hoped that one day, he would appreciate his unusual scale colour too. They named the dragon Dif.

As Dif grew up, he was filled with questions. Why was he green? His mother and father weren’t. Neither was his elder brother Ember. He felt terribly alone. Now that he had started dragon school, he began to question how much he really belonged in Sparxeter. His classmates would shift uncomfortably when he sat next to them and, at lunchtime, they would tease him: not only were all his classmates bright red, but they could also blow fantastic flames. Dif stuck out like a little green thumb – both because of his appearance and his fire breathing ability. He could barely muster a cough of smoke.

He had grown used to leaving the dark memories of his classroom and the ridicules of the other dragons to sit at the foot of the Ever After Tree. On the eve of his tenth birthday, he nestled at the foot of its trunk. He looked up at the light curtain of leaves above his snout and observed the swirls of pink, yellow, green and blue melt together as the leaves danced above him to some soundless music. Dif managed a small smile. He liked it here. All the colours worked together and sometimes softened to form new, unthinkable colours never discovered before. The tree never died. It was always full of life and hope. It was a huge comfort when Dif was sad and sometimes he would find himself lying underneath it for hours, before his mother fetched him for supper.

As if on cue, Dif’s mother appeared beside him in a flurry of wings. The two of them sat in silence for a moment before his mother asked him patiently, How are you today, my boy?

Dif sighed and murmured, "Not great… everyone called me ‘Snot-Snout’."

His mother put a warm claw around her son’s shoulder and hugged him close.

You know they’re just jealous, she whispered.

Why would they be jealous? croaked Dif. They have glittering, gleaming, sparkly scales. Mine look mouldy and grimy!

Who calls you these names? demanded Dif’s mother.

No one, replied Dif quickly, not wanting to be labelled a snitch as well as all the other names.

Hmmm, well I do hope it wasn’t that Rubrum again, mused Dif’s mother. Such an unpleasant little dragon… he’s about as appealing as your father’s ragrot stew and as interesting as our toilet brush!

Dif snorted suddenly at his mother’s insult but wrinkled his snout, thinking back to his dad’s ragrot stew: the toilet brush had been used a lot that evening.

His mother gave a wicked grin before continuing, You know, green is my favourite colour.

Dif looked into his mother’s eyes, a deep blue which contrasted stunningly with her luminous scales. They were hidden behind a pair of glasses, over which she peered at the young dragon. She smiled, with just a hint of tooth poking out between her ruby red lips.

Why am I green? he asked for the millionth time. He really could not understand it. None of his relatives were green - they were all a striking red. Well, all except for his Uncle Pimbo. He had been a raging hot red until he took a wrong flight path and ended up in Icicle Avenue… He’d had a bluish tinge ever since. But that didn’t count!

Dif, it doesn’t matter if you’re green, blue, yellow or pink. You’re still a dragon and one of us. You should never feel otherwise, replied Dif’s mother, her eyes opening so wide in concern that her spectacles nearly tumbled off her snout. Everybody is different, and you should take pride in your difference.

Dif tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but his anger towards the other dragons still bubbled away inside him – particularly his anger towards Rubrum.

Rubrum had tried to make Dif’s life a misery from the moment he arrived in nursery. At three, Rubrum had set fire to Dif’s artwork when he received a sticker for his work and, by the time Dif was five, Rubrum had composed a whole host of nicknames for Dif. His father always told him to be something called a ‘pacifist’.

Don’t give them a reaction, said Dif’s father wisely to him, one day after nursery. That’s just what they want. Never bow down to their level of nastiness. Rise above it.

He winked at Dif, then pulled a coin from behind Dif’s spike.

See Dif – you are good as gold. Make sure you stay that way.

So Dif did his very best to ignore all comments of Bogey-brain and Snot-Snout, but he was reaching the end of his patience and knew he could not put up with the insults much longer.

CHAPTER TWO

The Stone Dragon

The following day was Dif’s birthday. He awoke full of excitement with butterflies fluttering in his stomach. Today was also his first fireworks lesson.

He uncurled his lime green tail, stretched his claws above his head and smiled at the cosy room around him. Until recently, he had shared a room with his brother Ember, but Ember had complained that he was too old to share a cave. Dif had secretly been glad. Not only did it mean that his father hollowed a room out of the rock just for him, but it also meant he could get to sleep without the deafening rattle of Ember’s snoring.

His ceiling was covered in stalactites which reflected the fire crackling merrily in the corner. Dif had decorated the walls with pictures he had drawn of trees, mountains and rivers: little scribbles of things that captured his imagination. He stared at the drawings, picturing himself in them, swimming lazily in lakes, running through forests and feeling leaves brush against his scales as he pushed his way through the undergrowth. He wanted to climb higher than any other dragon had before and stand at the top of the world, feeling the wind whisper delicious secrets in his ears.

He grinned as he snapped back to the present. He pulled off his blankets, slipped on his furry slippers and plodded into his mum and dad’s cave to see what presents awaited him.

Laid out on the golden fur of his parents’ quilts were four packages, neatly wrapped with ribbons attached. Dif gasped with excitement, and his mother and father laughed as he leapt onto the soft blanket beside them. Shortly after, Ember joined. At fifteen, he had well and truly reached the teenage years of dragonhood. Constantly sleepy and moody, he stalked around the house looking for firecracker cookies and spicy crisps to munch on. He wandered into the cave, bleary-eyed and confused by the early movement of his family.

Did you have to wake me up? he moaned.

Of course we did; it’s your brother’s birthday! exclaimed Dif’s father.

Yes, it’s his big day, so stop sulking and pipe down! barked his mother, smoke spilling from her nostrils slightly as she raised her voice.

Okay, okay, grumbled Ember, not wishing for sparks to start firing alongside the smoke.

The family eventually settled down. Dif snuggled in between his mother and father, feeling the warmth from their bellies against his scales and his father’s breath toasty warm on his ears. He reached for the first present - cylindrical objects wrapped in golden paper with heaps of ribbon attached. Trust mum to go mad with the wrapping paper, Dif thought. He used to spend hours desperately trying to unwrap his presents, until his brother lost patience and tore off the last pieces himself. This year, Dif was determined to unwrap his presents before his brother got his greedy claws on them. Bits of ribbon went flying everywhere and, eventually, two firework packets rolled on to the quilt.

Dif looked at his new gifts in awe.

Wow! he shouted. Can I use them in my first lesson today?

Of course you can dear, grinned his mother. But be careful - I don’t want you getting your snout burnt like you did last year…

That was a disaster! agreed Dif’s father. We had to keep you bandaged up like a mummy for weeks! Don’t try sticking your snout in any flames son… Just use the matches that we gave you.

Dif gulped slightly in shame. His parents always made sure he had a box of matches with him, to help him produce a flame should he need it. Dif tried to hide it whenever he had to use it – it made him feel useless. A dragon that couldn’t breathe fire – how ridiculous! Last year, he tried to light the last candle on his cake without his matches. He got closer and closer to the other candles in a desperate attempt to produce a spark. Eventually, he got so close that he accidentally burnt his snout on the other candles. Ember had tutted and pulled him away from the cake to run his snout under cold water.

Despite this, Dif had always wanted to be a fireworks lighter. He had watched wonderful shows that the dragon elders put on in Sparxeter. The displays would tell stories in a flash of light and colour. He hoped that he would be able to blow flames one day so he could put on award-winning displays too. He imagined the scene: the explosions of yellow, merging with an icy blue which would fade to an elegant purple…

Son? questioned his father cheekily. Are you going to open your other presents so we can all have some birthday cake?

Don’t rush him, Rederick, scolded his mother. She turned to Dif, Take your time, darling.

His remaining presents consisted of a fireboard (which allowed you to surf on fire), a set of dragon snap cards and a hat to stop him getting sunburnt like he had last summer. Dif was delighted and couldn’t wait to ride his new fireboard to school.

Can I go back to bed now? moaned Ember.

Certainly not! retorted his mother. You need to be at school in half an hour and you need to visit the Stone Dragon first. I don’t want you skipping flight class again!

Why aren’t you coming to the Stone Dragon too? grumbled Ember.

I popped out earlier for a visit, whilst I was getting Dif’s cake.

Ember rolled his eyes but quickly set about getting ready.

Right Dif, we’d best be off. We need to visit the Stone Dragon too, before the queue gets too long, said Dif’s father.

Visiting the Stone Dragon was a part of every dragon’s morning routine. The Stone Dragon was a curious feature of Sparxeter. Nobody was sure who had built it or how it had come to be. It was a huge, menacing statue, made entirely of rubies that held a great mystical power. The only way a dragon could gain their fire for the day was to touch the mysterious stones that laced the statue’s body.

There were many legends surrounding the creation of the Stone Dragon. Dif’s mother used to tell him that at the dawn of time the clouds rained rubies and the Stone Dragon was created out of the rain. Others claimed that each ruby was the heart of the early dragons, forever beating on to give their ancestors strength. Dif quite liked the story he’d overheard his brother telling his classmates one day.

The rubies were chiselled out of the edge of the world, said Ember to a captive audience of younger dragons. Each ruby contains enough power to destroy all dragonkind. The Stone Dragon was built by shadow creatures from another planet….

He’d waited for all the little dragons to ooohh and ahhh before leering over them all.

The shadow creatures are still watching us even now – they come out at night-time and nibble your toes if you’re bad.

The young dragons had shrieked at that, and Dif’s father had apologised to the parents before dragging a sniggering Ember away.

Despite the legends, Dif always wondered why the Stone Dragon didn’t grant him the fire that he wanted so much. He’d asked it very nicely in a variety of ways, but the Stone Dragon seemed to stubbornly refuse him. It felt like another reminder that Dif didn’t belong.

After some hearty helpings of cake, Dif set off with his father. They began to walk through the sandy landscape together, dotted with shops, boutiques, cafes and sport courts for fly frisbee and fire hockey. He glanced back at his family cave and felt his legs go wobbly as he looked up at the huge wall of rock it was hollowed out of. The rock was as tall as the sky, disappearing behind a veil of clouds far above him. Dif had always wondered what lay on the other side. He hoped one day to find out.

Turning his head back towards his father, Dif smiled at the morning hustle and bustle of the dragon community. A shopkeeper was busy piling her stall with cinnamon sticks, chillies, and other spices, whilst another dragon dragged a sled full of tools and paint towards his cave, ready to begin redecorating.

Three small dragons were throwing sand at each other and laughing. Their mother chided them fruitlessly.

Morning Rederick, she called out.

Morning Flamey! he called back. She didn’t seem to notice; she was too busy trying to scoop up armfuls of dragons to take them off to nursery.

The market stalls heaved with goods, selling everything from toys to kitchen crockery. Yet, despite the variety of items sold, everything was red. The walk to school was always bittersweet. He loved watching the community come to life, but he was also painfully aware that every set of eyes were on him as he walked through the sea of crimson and sand.

After a half an hour walk, the familiar sight of the Temple came into view. It was a huge presence, made more daunting by the barren desert either side of it. The building flickered menacingly as the suns caught the edges of the stone and marble. He shivered. He was never quite sure if it was excitement or fear he felt each morning when he looked at it.

Quickly now, called Dif’s father. We don’t want you to be late for your first fireworks class!

I’m coming, shouted Dif, and he ran to catch up with his father, who had approached the temple’s steps.

Inside, a group of dragons lined up in an orderly fashion, waiting their turn to touch and pay their respects to the Stone Dragon. Dif stood quietly at the back with his father to wait his turn. The mixture of ruby and red marble that covered the walls made him stand out even more shockingly. The columns seemed to twist upwards like escaping flames, reflecting the many red faces in the room. Dif caught sight of his own reflection in one of them: a green dot at the centre of a bonfire – like the last tree in a forest fire. Dif shivered again before gazing ahead of him.

The Stone Dragon sneered down at Dif with deep red eyes that seemed to lock onto his own. Sat on a throne towering above them all and armoured with ruby scales, it was a terrifying sight. Each scale glistened like fresh blood. Glancing up, Dif saw an army of jewelled teeth stood to attention across stone lips, sharpened to deadly perfection.

Tearing his eyes away from the glistening fangs, Dif peered ahead to the queue of dragons that were shifting awkwardly upon seeing him. A couple of dragons tried to smile politely when they caught his eye but spun their heads away from him sharply, fearing that they may have to start a conversation. Dif hung his head slightly, but then he caught sight of his friend Tufty, who was stood silently with his parents. Dif and Tufty were both bullied by their classmates and had formed a firm friendship as a result. Poor Tufty had been born without spikes, so he was teased for his lizard-like appearance. He was a quiet, thoughtful character, but with a stubborn edge that occasionally led to a violent temper.

When they were three years old, Tufty had set the nursery herb garden on fire after one of their classmates had called him ‘Wormy’.

Oh yeah? he’d cried, I bet a worm can’t do this. He had spat sparks onto the soil around him. The young dragon had cried watching her lulabader plants go up in flames, and Tufty had been made to sit out of class to reflect on his actions for the rest of the day.

Dif had hoped Tufty would calm down as he grew older, but only last week he had been given a week’s detention for tearing up the class’s artwork and throwing it in paper balls across the room.

What? he said, when Dif had raised his eyebrows at him. It was just a bit of fun… Besides I couldn’t deal with all those smug faces in their drawings - smug, smiling faces, just like all of them. Smug.

Dif had asked him what he meant by smug.

They think they’re better than us, he’d said. Look at them all - red, pretty and spikey… they are looking down their snouts at us, Dif, whether you like it or not.

Dif had told Tufty to stop being silly and mimicked his father’s words about ignoring the other dragons.

They talk about you too, Tufty had sulked. Excuse me for trying to defend you. They think you’re pathetic because you never fight back.

The final comment had stung. Dif had gone home and buried his head in his pillow, feeling utterly useless.

Despite everything, Dif felt a close connection with the hot-headed dragon. The two of them had stuck together since they were dragon babies. Perhaps it was because Tufty was the only other dragon that could truly understand how difficult it was to be labelled ‘different’. Snapping out of his thoughts, Dif waved at Tufty. He half-smiled back and raised a claw in a jokey salute.

One by one, each dragon approached the statue, held their claws against the ruby stones, bowed and muttered a few words under their breath before standing to the side to allow other dragons their turn. A couple of the dragons would blow fire into the air after touching the Stone Dragon, smiling gleefully before heading out of the temple. Dif gulped sadly, looking at their flames longingly.

When Dif reached the front of the queue, he bowed his head and reached out to touch the red-scaled toes of the statue. He saw the fire lamps in the room swim in the ruby surfaces.

Please could I have some fire today? asked Dif politely, whispering to the toenails and scrunching his eyes tight shut. He was desperate to be able to breathe fire in his fireworks class. Maybe, as it was his birthday, the Stone Dragon would listen to him today.

Please, he whispered again. He felt the stones throb slightly under his claws but there was no further clue that the Stone Dragon had taken effect. Dif slowly prised his claws away.

Once Dif’s father had done the same, he came over to his son and clapped him heartily on the back.

Time for your fireworks class, he smiled.

Dif forced a smile back but gulped, thinking of the embarrassment the class would surely hold.

Feeling his father’s claw kindly on his shoulder, Dif turned his back on the mysterious Stone Dragon for another day.

CHAPTER THREE

Fireworks Class

When Dif neared his school, he felt the prickle of eyes as his classmates stared at him. Today however, he decided to use the attention to his advantage. Glancing around, he saw a few puddles of fire glittering amongst the crystals of sand.