Names are pointless in a world where it doesn’t matter who the fuck you are. And I never mattered at all to the Ashen. Just another boy in just another black coverall. Just another prisoner. Just another number.
So that’s what they gave me. A fucking number.
I was no longer seen as a valid Edenite. I felt nameless, unseen and lost. So it wasn’t long before I decided to give myself a name. Did you give yourself a name, Goro?
I tried on many names for size, but none of them seemed to work. I tried them all on in secret, like I’d spent all my money shopping online, and none of them fit, so back they went to the metaphorical shop.
Then I found it. I found the name that humanised me, for want of a better word. I found a name that grounded me. I felt real again, and for the first time in forever I felt like I could look forward instead of looking inward.
The name wasn’t Vigour. That came later, and was to protect me.
But first, Goro, let’s take a look at your name. The Dragon. I’m sure you picked that as your little nickname because it is supposed to frighten your enemies. Make them feel intimidated in the presence of such a statuesque figure. The first time I met you, Goro, I felt like you might actually shoot flames out of your mouth, but unfortunately not. Your mouth is reserved only for spewing the constant stream of shit you produce, but I’m sure the nickname gave your ego a good stroking regardless of what a fucking alien like me thinks.
But the thing about Dragon’s, Goro, is they are ripe for the picking. They’re big and strong, but they attract people with a point to prove and nothing to lose, and you can damn well be sure I fit the bill there. So here I am, come to see the Dragon in his natural habitat, only he has no fucking idea what is coming his way.
Remember I found a name that grounded me, Goro?
The name I gave myself was George. I couldn’t have fucking scripted it any better, because now I’m here to slay the fucking Dragon. I’m almost certain I won’t be made a fucking saint for it, though I can imagine there would be some very happy people. Maybe they’ll celebrate the day I slay you just as much as they celebrate St George. Wouldn’t that be fucking nice? A party all for little old me?
I’m getting ahead of myself. First, George has to slay the Dragon before he can reap the fucking rewards.
So here I come, sword in hand, clad in my finest armour, ready to take you down with one well placed swipe. Give me what you’ve got, Goro, but watch your weak spots. Only a few more days until the biggest feast in town.
“Vigour slayed the Dragon! Three Cheers!” they’ll shout, before I take a shot of absinthe from some strangers belly button.
So let’s do it now, and do it loud!