The Future
The cavern was not a natural formation in the side of the mountain. It had been painstakingly carved out by claws that could rend through stone and steel, until it had formed into a chamber large enough to comfortably house its massive occupant. The peak of the mountain reached high above the clouds, and from ground level it was near-impossible to see the cavern entrance through a shroud of boreal fog.
But the locals of Arcadia who lived within the vicinity of Mount Reiss knew that it was up there, out of sight. The wisened elders regaled their children and grandchildren with campfire tales of seeing the mountain’s occupant in flight, stories from their own bygone youth where they had seen great wings unfurling against the sun or moon.
Those sightings had grown rarer over the years, but they knew the dragon still lurked there. Content to sit upon its horde, increasingly disdainful of the world of mortals. Only a fool would dare to go near the dragon’s cavern the elders always said. The only thing awaiting anyone who tried to venture inside, either for riches or for simple curiosity, would be met with a swift death.
They would balk if they knew a man was walking into the cavern at this very moment, striding along the smoothly carved stone floor. A man who knew full well he was walking into the lair of a dragon, but had no fear of the beast in question.
But it wasn’t curiosity that drove Coin’s visit to the dragon’s nest, nor was it greed (though his mouth did water considerably as he saw the veritable mountains of plundered gold that filled the interior of the cave). No, Coin had made this trek for a very important reason.
He paused in the yawning mouth of the cave for several moments, brushing thick clots of snow from his shoulders. In that time, a great heaving mass began to disturb the piles of plunder. Mounds of gold and silver tumbled away, like rockfall on a mountainside. They gave way to reveal a hulking body of sleek ebony scales, thirty meters long from snout to scythed tail-tip. Baleful green eyes, blazing brighter than cauldrons of fire, locked onto Coin in an instant.
The dragon did not move for several moments, staring at Coin as he slowly pressed into the room. The beast, simply put, was bewildered. It was hard enough to believe a human had entered its cave, but it was even harder to believe that said human seemed totally unbothered by the dragon glowering at him.
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Coin, in turn, felt the pressure of the dragon’s mind on his own. It was probing, curious, an unseen hand that prodded and poked his mind. By now he had gotten used to psychic forces acting on his mind.
You’re not human, the dragon said, its mental tone rife with curiosity and annoyance. That curiosity was perhaps the only thing keeping him alive at present.
“Correct,” Coin said. He stopped a few paces from the nearest pile of coins and slowly pulled his scarf down from his mouth. Dragons, like mimics, had an inborn love for all that glittered, and Coin knew well enough not to directly touch the hoard.
For mimics it was a mix of two things. Partially it was a magpie-like fixation on shiny things, and partially it was for the sake of creating a convincing illusion of wealth to draw in unsuspecting humans. Metal was a hard texture to copy, and mimics had found it easier to simply grab and store gold to use as bait.
But for dragons, nobody was entirely sure why they liked gold and silver so much. It was well known that they were at human-levels of intellect (even if they would bristle at the comparison), far smarter than the average mimic, but they did not need to shop and purchase items as a human would. They were not particularly talkative, and the few scholars daring enough to try and ask them questions were usually reduced to smoking pairs of shoes.
It was just a simple fact that the few dragons who still lived upon this plane had a fixation on wealth, surrounding themselves with opulence. Coin’s eyes roamed from one end of the cavern to the other, trying to make a tally of the wealth. Elijah’s vault had been massive, but even at a glance he could tell that the dragon’s wealth was far grander. Ill-gotten or otherwise.
The great lizard before him, slowly puffing smoke from two slitted nostrils, was perhaps the wealthiest being in Arcadia, if not the world at large.
Fool. The dragon’s wings unfurled, kicking up a gale that would have flung a normal person from the mouth of the cave. Coin grimaced, planting his heels and increasing his mass and density. Small hooks sprouted from the soles of his feet, anchoring him in place. Whoever, or whatever you are, it makes no matter. I am Auzel. I have seen centuries come and go, witnessed the rise and fall of empires. My wingbeats can quell the thunder of the heavens, my flames can turn the finest steel into slag, my scales turn the strongest mortal magic into mere dust. No foe can best me. If you have come here for my plunder, you shall find only death. Come another step forward and be shattered.
Coin looked deep into the great emerald eyes of the dragon, sensing the vastness of Auzel’s mind. It was no mere boast, he knew. The dragon could, if so inclined, wipe entire armies away with all the effort of brushing dust from a countertop.
“I’m not here to steal from you, mighty Auzel.”
Auzel’s eyes narrowed. It was only idle curiosity that kept the beast from attacking. Whether they thought Coin was intriguing, either from bravery or stupidity, or were simply humouring him... who could say?
Then why do you bother me, creature?
Coin smiled, his hands raised in a gesture of peace. “Well... this is probably going to sound odd, but...”
The dragon leaned its long neck forward, intrigued.
“... I have a business proposition for you.”