once there was a well. it was a deep well that was fed by an underground stream. around it stood bent and gnarled trees, some green with foliage, others bare and broken. one night, there was a terrible storm. the skies were dark and unforgiving. rain poured down in angry torrents. lightning flashed and thunder roared. suddenly, there was a loud clap, like the striking of two large stones. the well was split into two. between the bright flashes of lightning, a small dragon emerged from the bottom of the well. it was a strange looking dragon. the body was small and frail, but on each end was a head. joined at the middle, it walked awkwardly. first staggering to the right, then to the left. in the midst of the pouring rain, it made its way under a tree.
as the days passed, it grew stronger and larger, but the left side remained small. thus it would always lead the way because it couldnt keep up if the stronger side walked in front. like this, it lived in harmony with the other. but one day, the stronger side became angry. it didnt want to be joined any longer. it was always slowed down, restrained by the weaker half. the stronger one wanted to fly, to run, to kill, to eat, without a sickly half. so one night, when the moon was shrouded behind walls of clouds, it ripped itself from the weaker half. it broke the bones, separated the flesh and ran off into the night. of course the weaker side couldnt fight back. it couldnt defend itself. so there, helpless, it lay, bleeding and slowly dying.
free at last, the other dragon ran and flew. the wounds healed quickly and caused him no pain. he ran from village to village eating the people, the animals, leveling whatever it saw. he delighted in his own destructive power. quickly he grew bigger and bigger. meanwhile, the weak dragon crawled its way back to the well and found refuge in its healing waters. although it did not die, it soon became too weak to move and started shrinking. before long, it disappeared.
as the other dragon continued its pillaging, it grew so large that it could no longer move its joints. one night, after destroying yet another village, he stumbled around annoyed at its own bulk. angry, it ripped and tore away its own flesh. screaming in pain, he fell against a house.
weak from the self-inflicted wounds, he sat there. frightened villagers returned to find it sitting in a stupor. boiling with hatred, they picked up whatever they could find and charged at it. the dragon knew that it was finished.
with each new wound, the dragon’s heart too began to crumble. at the very last moment, before a stake was driven between its eyes, all it could think about was its other half.