In a little village with red roofs, warm bread, and yellow flowers, lived Milo the Prince. Milo was also a tiny knight. He wore a round blue helmet, a soft silver cape, and boots that went tap-tap-tap.
Milo was kind. Milo was brave. But sometimes, Milo felt small.
His best friend was Horse. Horse was big, brown, and very gentle. Horse loved carrots, puddles, and saying, “Neigh! We can do it!”
One sunny morning, the village bell did not ring.
No ding-dong.
No wake-up song.
The baker looked out his window. “Oh dear. My buns are still sleepy!”
The children looked at the sky. “Where is our bell?”
Milo found a trail of golden sparkles. It went past the little bridge, over the green hill, and up to a dark, rocky cave.
“Dragon lives there,” whispered Horse.
Milo held Horse’s mane. His knees felt wibbly. “I am small,” he said.
Horse gave a warm neigh. “Yes. And you are a knight.”
Tap-tap-tap went Milo’s boots. Clip-clop went Horse’s hooves. Together, they came to the cave.
Inside sat Dragon. Dragon was huge. He had green scales, purple wings, and a very long tail.
Beside him was the village bell.
“Dragon!” said Milo, in his smallest brave voice. “That bell belongs in our village.”
Dragon did not roar.
Dragon sniffled.
“I know,” he said. “But it makes a lovely ding. My cave is lonely. I only wanted a nice sound.”
Milo looked at Dragon’s sad eyes. He was not a bad dragon. He was a lonely dragon.
Horse nudged Milo. “We can help.”
Milo had an idea. “Dragon, will you bring the bell back with us? You may ring it every morning. Then the whole village can hear you.”
Dragon blinked. “May I really?”
“Yes!” said Milo.
Dragon carefully picked up the bell. It was shiny and gold. He carried it on one claw. Milo rode Horse down the hill. Dragon walked behind them, very slowly.
At the bridge, Dragon’s big foot got stuck between two stones.
“Oh,” said Dragon. “I am too big.”
Milo climbed down. He pushed one stone. Horse pulled a vine. Dragon lifted his foot.
Push! Pull! Lift!
Pop!
Dragon was free.
“Thank you, little knight,” said Dragon.
Back in the village, everyone peeked from behind doors. They saw Dragon. They saw the bell. They saw Milo and Horse.
“Do not worry,” said Milo. “Dragon is our friend.”
The baker smiled. The children clapped. Even the old mayor danced a tiny dance.
Dragon hung the bell in its tall tower.
Ding-dong!
Ding-dong!
The village woke up. The buns woke up. A sleepy cat woke up and said, “Meow?”
Then the baker gave Milo a treasure box. Inside was a golden knight badge, a bright red apple, and three crunchy carrots for Horse.
“For our brave helper!” said the baker.
Milo pinned on the badge. It sparkled in the sun.
Dragon got a special gift too: a little silver bell for his cave. It went ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling.
From that day, Milo knew something important. Being brave did not mean having no wibbly knees. Being brave meant being kind, even when you felt small.
And every morning, Horse said, “Neigh! Listen!”
Ding-dong went the village bell.
Ting-a-ling went Dragon’s bell.
Milo smiled under his blue helmet. His boots went tap-tap-tap all the way home.