"What are you a metaphor for?" asked the knight. "What?" said the dragon.
"I want to know what our fight means. Am I combatting a symbol of human greed?"
The dragon sat. This knight was more interesting than the last dozen. It raised its head regally. "I am a metaphor for power."
"Great," said the knight. "Time for a manifestation of the struggle between goodness and corrupt power, then." He readied his shield.
"I said power," growled the dragon, "not corrupt power."
The knight lowered his guard. "You can't just be power. Power has no moral position, no agency. It's a tool, like..." he gestured, "...like this sword. I can use this to rob nobles, or to fight bandits. You, you clearly have agency, which implies a moral consequence to your actions. So...?"
The dragon lashed its tail back and forth, casting coins from its hoard every which way. "Then I am a metaphor for noble, righteous power."
"Really," said the knight. "You exact tribute from everyone weaker than you and give nothing back. Where's the nobility in using power like—" Dragon flame ended his question and his life.
"You have a point," said the dragon, "but you're really annoying."