On high mountain peaks, there was always a constant danger of avalanches. Loud noises could set off a shift of ice and snow, which could easiley create more sound. In this way, chain reaction could alleviate all nearby peaks of some of their height.
One such noise was coming from deep within a cave, but its owner was not the kind to care about avalanches.
Within her lair, the dragon slumbered. Coiled like a great serpent, her blue and white body covered in interlocking scales, she looked more like an ice sculpture than a leviathan of destruction. Her head lay across her left foreleg, her eyelids twitching every now and then, in emulation of the scenes playing out behind them. Beneath her scaled belly, treasures gleamed and sparkled. Crowns, necklaces, and bracelets lay strewn everywhere, along with emeralds, sapphires, rubies, and skulls.
Under her tail, something moved. A small claw poked out, followed slowly by a head. The fledgling pulled the rest of its body out, and began wandering the cavern. He hadn't been outside the cave yet in its short life, and it regarded the patch of light that poked through the tunnel curiously. Following it, the drake came to a wide opening, and what he saw, he could not comprehend. Before him was a giant cave, so large he couldn't see its sides. Its roof was blue, and the ground of it was green, and colours of all sorts were to be found in between.
He stayed there, looking at the world before him, until his mother awoke and pulled him back into the safety of the cave with her tail.
~
Racing through the air, feeling the wind tickle his wings, the dragon flew around the mountain peak he knew as home. He felt exhilarated, and free, like he could go anywhere in the world he chose. The sky was his domain, and all other creatures were below him. If he so chose, they would die before they saw anything more than a shadow. This was clearly the superior element, for what else could make you feel so powerful! But before long, he felt his wings begin to stiffen and returned to the ground, before he was forced to. Despite more than a few years having passed since his birth, he was still smaller than most of those green things on the ground his mother had called "trees".
His mother. That was another reason, other than his stature, that he didn't try to leave this place.
As he glided around the peak one last time, he saw her, returning from the plains where she had been catching fish from a river. As they came into the cave entrance together, she looked at him with an expression of disapproval, and he started feeling guilty. She had been most clear on why he shouldn't fly outside, and yet, he had purposefully waited until she had left so that he could do just that.
Remembering his stiffening wings though, he knew she had only had his safety in mind.
It wasn't as if he disliked being kept at home. He spent much of his time being in awe of the stories his mother told him: of the legends of his ancestors, of the different kinds of dragons, and of the history of his race, and other races. He wasn't sure what to think of all these other creatures inhabiting his world, but as long as they kept to themselves, he supposed, he wouldn't mind them.
In the meantime though, he curled up on the soft dirt, and got ready to hear another story from his mother as she brought in his dinner.
~
The buildings in the street were aflame, their crackling fires attracting a strong wind to feed them. A few of the houses had already fallen in on themselves, their withered timber unable to support themselves in the heat. Out of those that hadn't, several screams could be heard, as their owner desperately tried to find their way out of a building which hadn't been burning moments before. Several brave spirits had plunged themselves into the furnace to rescue loved ones or cherished objects, and many others had formed a line between the well and the blaze.
Didn't they realise, the dragon thought, it was pointless? If he wanted those buildings gone, they would be gone, and no amount of scurrying about would save them. He could destroy the whole hamlet if he wanted to. But he didn't. This was the very first time he had ever seen the creatures called "humans" up close, and their actions intrigued him. Didn't they know, that the ground they covered with their sticks and stones, was home to many nests of graboids, who would hatch by the end of the summer? Really, he was just saving them future hassle, as long as they understood the message. If they didn't, well, he'd return to make sure they did. It was, after all, a dragon's duty to keep the lower races in their place. Especially the two-legged ones.
When his mother had first told him of this task, he had reacted with confusion. Why should the mighty race of dragons care about what some tiny beasts did if it didn't affect them? But, as she had told him, "As we are the strongest of creatures, it is up to us to stop them from interfering with each other. Everything in the world has its place, and we make sure it stays there." Soon after, she had taken him with her on her flight to show him what she meant.
That had been some time ago now though. He had his own lair now, and was quite proud of it. But every now and then, he flew to the home he had known first, to share stories with his mother, who had never been one to venture further than the nearest coast.
He liked those times.
~
Within his icy cave, the air dragon slept. His tail moved and slithered over the piles of treasure he had taken from those who did not deserve them. Every now and then, a whisper escaped from his mouth, as if he spoke to someone in his dreams. A chill breeze blew in from the entrance to his lair, and the crisp scents of the open sky were enough to wake him from his slumber. With a sigh, the dragon opened his eyes.
He had been asleep for some time, he knew. At least several days. He had been on this world for several centuries, and while that was a normal age for a fully-grown dragon, he would only sleep longer the older he got.
But he did not fear sleep. A millenia-old dragon he'd had the incredible reward of meeting during a brief waking period had told him of their experiences with dreaming. From the wrym's recounting, it had sounded wondrous. They had said it had been like the waking world, except brighter, with everything having more colour, more life to it, and your wings never became stiff or tired, no matter how far you flew.
No, he looked forward to that time. He had seen countless landscapes, flown across many skys, sired several children, and upheld the glory and legends of his race, and the duties that came with it. He knew the world would go on without him, and he would go on without it.
Except...he didn't quite feel ready to leave the world just yet. Not without seeing his mother one last time.
As he had gotten older, the urge to visit her had lessened, enthralled as he was with the wonders of the open world. It must have been at least fifty years since he had last seen her; he couldn't quite remember. But he still loved her deeply, and a smile spread across his mouth as he recalled her face. He would see her before going.
Striding to the lip of the cliff, he lifted his wings, and in one, powerful swing, launched himself up into the midnight sky.
-
As the peak he had been born in appeared on the horizon, the dragon mustered the strength for several great flaps of his tired wings. He felt glad that he had decided to make the journey, and began thinking of which tale he would share with her. Even though she was further into her slumber that he was, he knew she wouldn't mind. She never did.
Pulling into the opening of the cave, he noticed immediately that something was wrong. The long, powerful breaths she had a habit of making while asleep were absent. Normally the snow on the peak was in a constant state of upheaval, but it looked like it hadn't been disturbed in some time.
As he walked through the entrance he had stood at so very long before, he noticed the cobwebs in the corners, and several rodents scurried away from him as he strode in. Perhaps she had abandoned this lair in favour of another one? He knew she had been very obstinant on this aspect of their lives, but that could have changed in the intervening time.
Then the smell hit his nostrils, and he knew he was wrong.
Hastening his gait to a lope, he hurried to the sleeping chamber, hoping he was wrong. But the scene of decay before him held no lies, only harsh, harsh truth. How long she had laid there, feeding generations of flies and maggots, he did not know. He only knew that her sky-blue scales were drawn around a shrunken frame of bones, their vibrancy faded to grey. In several places, the skin had peeled away, revealing stark white bones covered by nothing but dark clusters of carrion.
On the ground, a puddle of colour showed where her blood had sunk into the ground, poisoning anything that tried to grow there. And around her, where normally there would be piles of gold, there was nothing but skulls.
Deep in his heart, he felt something change. He knew who had done this, who had slain his mother in cold blood for nothing more than piles of metal. There was only one settlement around the mountains, one place where the hunters could have come.
He screamed.
"AURDINAS!!!"
They.
Would.
Pay.
