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In a recently and utterly low stakes online conversation the topic has been raised how many legs should a dragon have? This discussion has principally been initiated because G.R.R. Martin, author of the Game of Thrones novels, disputed the image used for the newest series which shows the beast with four legs and two wings.

Martin’s argument is based on evolution and that flying creatures evolved wings from their forelimbs leaving only the rear two to serve as legs. He’s right about that. On Earth all land animal life descended from a common ancestor which set the pentadactyl limb structure. Everything animal we know has the basic limb design, One Bone, Two Bones, Many Bones. IF dragons were evolved creatures from an ecology that mirrors Earth’s, then you would expect the same body form rules to apply.

In fact, the common ancestor is the reason why I have an issue with Cameron’s Avatar. Every land animal in that ecology has six limbs except for the big-eyed human analog. They are as out of place as a four-legged dragon.

But if they were evolved creatures they would not exist.

There is simply no way that a beast that large, that massive will evolve flight. Yes, there were some flying dinosaurs with absolutely enormous wingspans, but they remained light, fragile creatures not massive lizards with weights measures in tons. It is furthermore an impossibility for the ‘fire breathing’ to evolve as depicted. The energy consumption required to power such abilities is too staggering to contemplate.

With all that said, dragons exist in a setting where the laws of physics are upended by sorcery and magic. In a world where non-nuclear transmutation is possible, and the laws of thermodynamics are abandoned. In such a setting a genesis for a creature outside of biological evolution exits and along that path the arguments of two or four legs are reduced to the author’s preference.

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I have never been overly fond of ‘chosen one’ narratives. There is something in the core concept that some people are just ‘special’ and deserving of praise and riches because fate or the gods or something has selected them above all others that just rubs my skin wrong.

There is a vague memory lurking in my brain of some production of a Camelot myth that struck at just the right time to inspire a foundation element of my ethos and personality. Arthur proclaiming that Laws must bind high and low alike or they are not laws at all. To me this extends to narratives.

The chosen one myth is at its heart, to me, a perpetuation of the lie of nobility. That person is better than you by virtue of birth. You own that person you loyalty for no other reason that chance has deemed it so. Granted, in stories the heroes nearly always are virtuous and good people. Luke refuses to turn to the dark side even though it will cost him his life. Aragorn is a kind, just, and benevolent king. Harry Potter despite a childhood of horrid abuse is compassionate and only interested in what is right, immune to the seduction of sudden riches, fame, or sports induced glory. These characters are ‘good’ because the author has made them so, not for any other reason.

While I have never been a dedicated fan of the Dune novels, I deeply appreciate that in that series not only is the ‘chosen one’ the source of billions upon billions of deaths and the imposition of a tyrannical galactic theocratic dictatorship but that from the start the ‘chosen one’ myth is a lie fabricated to manipulate populations for the goals of an uncaring elite.

One reason I adore The Last Jedi is that the chosen one is flawed and scared and subject to human frailty, but most all because it ends with a nameless slave wielding the power that had been reserved to the ‘noble.’

I doubt I would ever write a ‘chosen one’ story but if I did you can be assured that it would be to subvert it.