Breathe Fire

“Breathe. Just breathe. There.”

Sensei said while I had my eyes closed.

“Let the spit collect in your mouth.”

“Ew, that’s gross!”

Whack. Sensei whacked his barbed tail on my neck.

“You must learn to breathe fire. And you must learn it now,” Sensei bellowed.

The other pupils cowered in the corner of the cave while I was exposed to Sensei’s wrath.

“Breathe. Let the rage flow through you. Breathe in. Feel the heat building in your neck. Hold it. Hold it. Let it swell. And then breathe out.”

Whack, the tail made my neck scales bristle once again.

“Concentrate! Meditate! Pay attention!”

“Don’t hit me!”

“I will hit you, pupil,” Sensei said. “I will hit you when I please! I will hit you as many times as I need to! Take that hate, that anger, that rage, and channel it through your throat, boy!”

My eyes swelled with tears. Except, they were dragon tears. Dragon tears tend to catch fire. I sighed as a tear made its way down my snout.

Thick black smoke. Lots of it. The tear was burning. All it needed was a sad sigh of my breath.

“Not good enough!” Another tail whack.

“Fine!” I screamed in Sensei’s face. And out came a lick of fire. Not a full-throated one like Sensei and my father produced, but a tentative one, like that of a candle that is jury lit, and the flame is unsure whether it has the fuel to keep burning.

Another whack.

“Aaaaah!” I cried in outrage against the injustice of being singled out for tail whacks in front of my friends.

And all that rage and frustration finally came out in a giant exhalation of bright, roaring fire. I was surprised I was able to produce this big a flume. My friends hooted and cheered.

Whack. But Sensei was not pleased.

“Do better.” Whack.

I made no effort to hide my tears. They were rolling down my snout freely.

“I hate you and will kill you where you stand!” I roared.

And the most biggest, bestest fire I had ever produced came out of my mouth and nostrils. A fire that burns everything it touches. A fire that burns like seven suns. A fire that singes even dragon hide. Tears forgotten, I worked the room into a frenzy while wings furled and unfurled around me.

Sensei curled into a resting pose, his tail tucked between his legs, his wings covering his legs as if he were warming an egg. Sensei closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. The fire I’d breathed had burned his side.

“You are ready, young prince,” Sensei said. He then drooped his head on the cave floor, signaling the end of the lesson. There were hoots all around me. The other pupils surrounded me and appreciatively whacked their tails on my neck in congratulations. But I felt none of the jubilation.

Yes, I will be the crown prince someday. And yes, I needed to learn how to breathe fire to protect my kingdom, even save it from enemies when the time came. But I didn’t feel ready. I didn’t feel the excitement. I realized I have much to learn.

Only, Sensei had gone into deep dragon sleep. He would not wake until the next moon. I wrapped a wing around Sensei’s singed side. That was my fault. He purred trustingly, sleeping soundly, exhausted.