The Forgotten Hero
Tsz Wun Kw
egends of dragons permeate the Chinese civilization throughout history. The virtuous creatures are the
symbol of happiness, fertility and prosperity. They are said to guard everything important and precious,
which, above all, include the people living in the Middle Kingdom.
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ang, Group 2: Fiction, Chinese International School
Two thousand years ago, in a land where the soil was fertile and harvest was abundant, there lived
pulace who believed that they were the centre of the world. People lived in their plentiful world
and for the most part showed little interest in the outside world. Their forests afforded a thick vegetation and
every inch of their land blossomed with flowers and fruits. Only the most adventurous caravans would venture
out into the wilderness. There along the trade route now known as the Silk Road, some merchants would trade
their exquisite treasures like fine silk and porcelains for exotic items from the alien world. Oblivious of the
looming danger from the north, this ancient civilization lived peacefully in opulence for ages until one day...
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The Mongolian raids came. These nomadic warriors had long coveted the fertile land. They wanted a piece
of it. Not long, the sound of war reached the air of its prosperous capital. It was the sound of fear, the sound of
citizens pleading for mercy. Warriors raged through the city. Chaos reigned over the empire. Everything was
hurled in ruin and burned to ashes. Cries of the tormented victims shocked the god - the King of Heaven.
"
Invaders must go back to the north. They had disrupted the order of my world," the King of Heaven
hollered as streaks of lightning ripped the sky apart. The young prince, whom the King of Heaven adored the
most, drowned in sadness when he saw the world down below was torn apart in such atrocity. Without knowing
what he was about to embrace, he said, "My father, please let me transform myself into a dragon and put an end
to all these sufferings. The Middle Kingdom needs a dragon to safeguard its border."
"
My dear prince, the mortal world is filled with sorrow and torment. Once you take up the role as its
guardian, there will be no turning back," the King of Heaven said as the thought of separation from his dearest
son shattered his heart. The King of Heaven tried to swallow his grief, and said, "So long, my son!" Immense
flashes of lightning followed the deafening crashes. The prince screamed in excruciating pain. His scream
echoed from wall to wall as the transformation pierced through every inch of his flesh and bone. The ear-
splitting sound jolted the earth, spurring a panic among the nomadic bandits and forcing them to leave the
Middle Kingdom.
Next morning, pain woke the prince up. He was no longer a prince. He was a mighty dragon perched on the
most formidable landscape. Snaking his way from the eastern coast of the Yellow Sea to the western edge of the
Gobi desert, his body sprawled over thousands of miles. The dragon was the silent guardian of the Middle
Kingdom. His grandeur was joyfully celebrated by the people as he scared away the fiercest warriors. But peace
seldom last long.
One night, the dragon stood guard in a world pervaded by stillness. Suddenly, columns of smoke swirled up
in the horizon with dark clouds hanging ominously over the desert. Fast as lightning, an army of ruthless
Mongolian warriors descended upon the vast desert. Horsemen of the enemy swept up. The murderous roars
echoed though the desert. The lines of fire became flowing torrents. The shadows of death felt dark upon the
desert. But the dragon stood silent and stern. His eyes gleamed like stars that shined brighter as the night
deepened. The onslaught of warriors perished everything in sight. Soldiers of the Middle Kingdom broke away
from their order, flying wild and witless here and there. The dragon fought to his last breath. He succeeded. But
it was a tough battle. The brutality of war broke his heart.
Dynasties after dynasties, the savior fought against the Mongols. The strength of his mind inevitably
dwindled and his body weakened. Rumors had it, the dragon would regain his strength if he took the elixir of
life from the highest mountain in the west. Without delay, the Emperor sent off a myriad of armies, peasants and
even convicts to get hold of this priceless potion. The elixir worked. Yet only a few returned from the
painstaking search. Millions of lives were sacrificed.
The magic potion saved the dragon and he felt life run new in his veins. But his heart was heavy. Each day
as dusk fell, haunting tunes of tortured souls who had died to save him drifted over the mountains. The horror of
war made him plunge into the depths of sorrow. Sometimes, he dreamt of turning himself into a yellow crane
and flying back to heaven. However, he knew he owed his duty to the people.
One day, the earth groaned and quaked. From far away, first dim, then growing, now mounting to the
clouds, there came a deadly drumming rumble. This time, the intruders arrived not from the north, but from
across the sea. These invaders brought along weapons of unthinkable cruelty from their alien world. Though the
dragon fought courageously to protect the people, he was torn apart by fire guns and cannons. Gasping out his
last words before darkness descended upon him, the dragon said " I must fulfill my duty to the people!"