In a wide valley at high noon, two armies were fighting a bloody and violent battle. One side wore brilliant silver armor and was great in numbers. These men were strong and, according to most, invincible. The other side was few in numbers. The armor they wore was faded and dirty, and their weapons were cheaply made. They were losing the battle, and there seemed to be no hope for them.

Now, upon a hill overlooking the scene of the fight, a great white dragon with a stunning silver mane sat, watching the fight as it unfolded. On the dragon's left forepaw sat a young boy, no older than eight. He was small and frail, and was the very picture of innocence. He looked up at the dragon with his large green eyes.

"Mister dragon, why do these people fight? Surely they must know that it is you who rules this valley?" the boy asked.

The dragon shook his great head. "Alas, they do not. I am nothing to them, though it was not always this way."

"Whatever do you mean?" the boy inquired.

The dragon let out a sigh before speaking. "Look at them who wear dirty armor. They are losing the battle, for their weapons are cheaply made. Do you see them?"

The boy nodded. "Yes, sir, I do. They do not look like anything special to me. Why do you mention them?"

"Because," the dragon replied, "I once protected them, just as I now protect you. You know that it is I who truly rules this valley, and they once knew so as well. When they settled here, they were just as weak as they are now. They came before me, not as though I were a wild beast, but as though I were a savior to them. I promised to look after and protect them, so long as they never forgot that it was I who took care of them. For so many years, it was I who went before them in battle. Those who tried to run them away were killed by the flames from my mouth. The people I protected were feared because of me, and they did not forget so easily what I had done for them."

The boy looked at the dragon. "How curious," he said softly.

The dragon gave him a questioning look. "What is it that you mean when you say 'how curious', little one?"

"Well," the boy answered, "I mean that it is strange that you no longer protect them. Look, now they lose the battle. Surely they will all be killed! Why is it that you allow them to perish?"

The dragon's face grew very sad as it spoke once more. "Little one, those people only remembered me for so long. Over the years, they became puffed up with pride, thinking that it was they who fought their battles. I was no longer a part of their tales; they no longer cared about me. They became uncivilized and immoral; what rowdy creatures they have become. They believe that they no longer need me, so I no longer fight battles for them. Their enemies will not kill them, but will make them into slaves. After many years of pain and toil, they may perhaps remember me, and remember that they depend on me. That will not be for many years though."

The little boy nodded with understanding. "Will you ever fight for them again?" he asked.

"Perhaps I might," the great big dragon replied, "but only once they can come to me with humility and acknowledge that they do truly depend on me. Until then, they will suffer greatly at the hands of their enemies."

"Then shall we depart from this place?" the boy asked.

"No, I shall stay," said the dragon. "These people no longer love me, but I still care for them. I will follow where they go, and once they rely on me again, I will bring them back here, to their home."