《Treasure Hunter》


 The Shed

    Even from across the room, Actuan could tell the old man was in bad shape. He had staggered through the door of the tavern grasping and swaying at the bar room furniture with his emaciated, claw like hands in an effort to keep from falling to the straw covered floor. Even from here the big warrior could smell his foul reek. A stench such as that would take some time to acquire. Body odor, the reek of cheap wine and the excrement of the horses tied outside told him that he had not always had a bar stool to keep his chin out of the muck.


    ¡°Get outta my bar you filthy drunk!¡± thundered Olaf, owner of The Dragon¡¯s Flagon, at the top of his already anything but timid voice.


    Snickers and guffaws followed as Olaf grabbed the old man like a twig, with one hand at his belt and the other grasping the back of his filthy shirt at the collar and marched him stiff legged toward the door.


    Not fully realizing what possessed him to interfere in the affairs of a total stranger, and one that obviously had so little to interest him, Actuan was almost as surprised as the rest of the bar patrons when he found himself rising to his feet and heard his own voice saying quite clearly,


    ¡°I¡¯d take your hands off my friend there, if you know what¡¯s good for you.¡±


    Olaf whirled angrily looking around the dimly lit bar. His eyes finally came to rest on Actuan and grew quite wide with surprise. Actuan had work hard to suppress a chuckle. He usually tried very hard to avoid unnecessary attention and had come into the bar earlier in the evening using a small but powerful charm of enchantment. The charm concealed his true size and stature from all but those that really took the trouble to look carefully. Such was the charms effect that it disoriented and blurred the vision, so that most people gave up quickly, not willing to make the mental effort to grasp the true nature of the wearer. Now that he had stood and spoken aloud, the spell was broken, and all of the Redguard¡¯s seven foot, three hundred pound, heavily-muscled and well-armored frame could be clearly seen.


    Olaf dropped the old man like a bundle of straw and impressed Actuan by actually wheeling and stepping right up to him, meeting his eye, though the large Nord had to look upward a good six or seven inches. In spite of his normal self confidence, Actuan felt his hand drifting toward his huge two handed broadsword.


    ¡°You know this sewer rat?¡± Olaf inquired, but not too gruffly.


    ¡°Sure do,¡± smiled Actuan, lying, ¡°Came all the way from Anvil to meet him here tonight, in fact.¡±


    ¡°Look,¡± Olaf said lowering his voice, so just the two of them could hear. ¡°I don¡¯t generally mind out of town guests, or judge people by the company they keep, but would you two mind taking a booth in the back? Your friend¡¯s odor is ruining business.¡±


    ¡°I think we can accommodate¡± Actuan replied, still grinning maliciously. He wasn¡¯t sure that he could stand the old man¡¯s foul stench himself, but decided that he had better see through this strange hunch that had made him break his own rule of anonymity. It wouldn¡¯t do for the King¡¯s own personal bounty hunter to get well known enough to allow certain elements of society an opportunity to give out a good description. That¡¯s how the last guy to hold the job ended up with a crossbow bolt through the back.


    Seeming to finally focus his bleary eyes on his benefactor, the old man got up from the floor and wobbled to his unsteady feet. A strange grin spread across his wrinkled and line furrowed face as he took in Actuan¡¯s size before he was hastily grabbed by Olaf and shoved unceremoniously toward his darkest booth in the least inhabited corner of the bar. The bounty hunter followed and squeezed his bulky frame onto the bench across the scratched and slightly sticky oaken table and looked intently at the place Olaf deposited the wheezing old man in a smelly heap. The stench was even worse up close. It made his eyes water. A mixture of excrement, rotten booze and a tinge of sulfur that Actuan could only surmise was the smell of the old man¡¯s liver rotting. He looked into Actuan¡¯s face with wild but curious eyes. Eyes that, strangely, Actuan found very hard to meet.


    ¡°Hee hee¡± the old man cackled, slapping his knee. ¡°I aint¡¯ seen Olaf stared down to in a while! Yer a big feller isn¡¯t ye.¡± he grinned again.


    Trying hard to keep his voice low, Actuan replied


    ¡°Listen old timer, I¡¯ve barely got the stomach for your smell myself, It just irritates me when I see people disrespecting the elderly¡± he managed to get out without taking a breath. Turning his head to the side he reloaded his lungs full of air enough to speak. We can sit here until things quiet down and people stop staring at us, or as long as I can stand the smell, then I¡¯m leaving.


    ¡°Ain¡¯t ye even goin¡¯ to ¡®let me buy you a drink?¡± the old man asked with a mischievous wink.


    The big bounty hunter was surprised at the question and thought it had come out backwards.


    ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t think you need another one and I¡¯m not planning on sitting here long enough to buy you a drink old man.¡± he said as kindly as he could, but it still came out gruffly.


    ¡°You misunderstood me¡± the old man said with a strange look. ¡°I¡¯m buying.¡± With that he reached under his foul smelling cloak and pulled out a large heavy coin. It hit the table with an impressive thud. Actuan knew what it was immediately, although the old man quickly covered it. His veiny hand barely large enough to hide the large golden disc. It was an Old Imperial Sovereign. Actuan looked quickly toward the bar. Although the clunk of metal on wood had turned some heads their direction, the bar¡¯s usual patrons had quickly looked away, shaking their heads and laughing quietly between themselves. The sound of normal bar room talk resumed.


    Imperial Sovereigns were things of legend. It was every treasure hunters dream to find one. Left over coinage from an Empire long extinct and once powerful, they were pure gold. The ¡°gold¡± coins now minted and used by the king that he served were an alloy of gold and other far less precious metals, the largest denomination of which would take over a hundred to equal the value of one Sovereign.


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    ¡°Where in Hells Gates did you find that?¡± Actuan hissed, looking at the place occupied by the old man¡¯s face again, with great effort. ¡°You know you can¡¯t spend that here, unless you want to buy the whole bar, and maybe most of the town¡± he said in a hushed whisper.


    ¡°Found it in the cave of a dragon¡± the old man said mater of factually. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s dead,. I crawled up to it and poked it with a stick and here I am still a kick¡¯in.¡± he giggled strangely. ¡°¡±I was real drunk a couple of nights ago and fell down a hole outside of town. When I woke up I was laying right near him. His carcass is laying on a couple a hundred of these and a bunch of other fancy lookin stuff too big and heavy for me to carry out by myself. ¡°Been lookin¡¯ fer a feller like you, all big and strong.¡± the old man wheezed. ¡°Thought I might try to get Olaf ta help me but yer better!


    ¡°Old man, I think I am going to let you buy me that drink¡± Actuan said through clenched teeth. ¡°Ya got anything smaller. The old man actually did.


    Although he was reluctant to let the old man out of his sight when he left the bar a few hours later, Actuan felt fairly certain the old man would meet him the next morning at first light, down by the stables. Saying only that he had a good place to sleep, Actuan watched the old man¡¯s back as he staggered and swayed from side to side while making his way down the street. Actuan turned and re-entered the tavern asking Olaf if he had a room upstairs.


    ¡°Not staying with your friend?¡± Olaf smirked, but seemed willing to let it go when the ridiculous asking price in gold for the room was forthcoming.


    Actuan spent an uneasy night only dozing lightly. The large metal golden disc under his thin pillow was keeping him awake for multiple reasons. Not only was it hard, but its bright surface seemed impervious to the warmth of his body, remaining unnaturally cold. His one fitful dream was filled with frozen dragon¡¯s gold.


    When the furniture in the room went from pitch black to only slightly more visible, he was up. He removed the Sovereign from under his pillow and held it up in the dim light. This coin had not been a dream. Dressing quietly, he made his way downstairs, through the empty bar and then quickly through the deserted streets to the stable. There he entered the stall of his horse Starfire. The black gelding nickered softly at his touch. Checking his gear, but gathering only some rope, and his two leather bags. He left on the horse blanket, and led him quietly out of the barn and into the street. There he looked up and down for the old man. He was no where in sight. Actuan hoped that he hadn¡¯t fallen down another hole. Silently he cursed himself for letting the treasure of a lifetime walk away in a drunken stupor.


    It wasn¡¯t long, however before he saw the old man coming up the street. The stark early morning light causing him to cast a large elongated shadow as dawn began to rise over the town. As he grew closer, Actuan could tell that he smelled no better than the night before, but he seemed to stagger less. The old man merely nodded as he walked away, not even looking back to see when Actuan fell in behind him, leading the horse. Suddenly Starfire reared, violently, lunging backward, the big horse jerking savagely at his arm. The rope burned his hand as he let the horse take some of it before pulling him in. Talking soothingly to the animal, Actuan was finally able to lead him up the street after leaving additional distance from the old man, who had not looked back. It was a good thing that, as the old man had promised, it was not far.


    They entered the ruins of an old castle. It¡¯s battlements covered in weeds and tall grasses. Tree limbs grew through archers turrets and all about was the smell of mildew and the sound of dripping water on the flagstones. Actuan could see the old man crouching down between two large blocks of hewn granite. The black soot of someone¡¯s campfire marking the side of one of them. Pulling away some dried branches and a tumbleweed, the old man straightened.


    ¡°Tie your horse, we are here¡± he said.


    ¡°Won¡¯t we need a torch?¡± Actuan asked, irritated at himself for not thinking of it sooner. He walked over to a nearby tree looking for a dried branch to snap off.


    ¡°You will not need one,¡± the old man replied. ¡°The rising sun will shine down the tunnel, it is not long¡± Then he disappeared from sight as he crawled downward into the darkness.


    Deciding to snap off a tree limb anyway, Actuan tied Starfire to the tree and followed after him. It was a tight fit, but as the old man had said, it was not far. The tunnel was steep but soon opened up into a large dimly lit cave. There, by the dim light of the tunnel exactly as the old man had described, lay the dead dragon.


    It wasn¡¯t as big as he expected, but it was big enough. Roughly four times the size of Starfire, not the giant dragons of legend, but a formidable beast none the less. Its six inch claws looked razor sharp. Approaching the body, he reached out to touch the hard dry scales. Ebony in color, but seemingly translucent. He gave it a shove. It rolled off the mound surprisingly easily, sliding oddly down the surface of the large pile and bouncing to a stop a few feet away. Beneath where it had laid the large golden sovereigns glowed in the diffused early morning light. He stared at them in wonder.


    ¡°Beautiful aren¡¯t they!¡± commented the old man crouching down to touch them.


    ¡°Yes they are!¡± agreed Actuan, ¡°And worth more than either of us could spend in a lifetime¡±


    ¡°I suppose it depends on how long one might live¡± the old man replied softly. ¡°I¡¯ve seen many more years, already, than you¡±


    ¡°Then my share should be greater¡± Actuan burst out giddily. ¡°With the time you have left, you will need far less!¡± he said as he began sliding the golden saucer sized coins into his saddle bags.


    The old man smiled strangely at him but did not argue.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you wonder what happened to the dragon? He asked quietly.


    ¡°Who cares?!¡± his dried body is there and the treasure is mine! Actuan bellowed. The plans he was making for spending the first part of the treasure swallowing all but the last of his reason.


    ¡°Have you, I wonder¡± continued the old man, ¡°ever seen a lizard shed its skin?¡±


    Actuan thought of a snake he had once thought he had seen while gathering firewood as a boy. It had laid quietly even after he moved the log. When he pulled out his knife to kill it, he had found it to be a thin shell of scales and skin that looked almost exactly like a real snake. His father had explained that snakes and lizards skin did not grow but every once in a while they had to crawl out of it and leave it behind. Actuan looked again at the surprisingly light body of the dragon that he had shoved off the pile of gold. Then he looked up at the old man, who had subtly moved to block the tunnel.


    ¡°You may also be interested,¡± the old man said, holding up a small amulet ¡°In this little trinket that was in the dragon¡¯s horde. ¡°I think you may have seen something like it before¡±


    Actuan looked down at amulet hanging from the chain around his neck and saw its twin in the hand of the old man. Silently, the old man let it fall. In the stillness of the cave, the sound of the amulet hitting the pile of gold coins created a klaxon of noise exploding in the bounty hunter¡¯s brain. His eyes swam and vision blurred. When it at last cleared, standing before him was something terrible and black. The reek of sulfer, flowed freely from it¡¯s warm breath. The voice was deep and terrifying.


    We dragons are the most vulnerable just after we have shed. Our scales are soft. We are weak and must feed for them to harden. I am, unfortunately now the size where most humans don¡¯t make much of a meal, but you will do nicely. After I¡¯ve finished you off, and my skin hardens, I will then, naturally, eat your horse. Thanks for bringing him and tying him so securely.


    The tree branch in his hand eventually proved useless.

 A Little Dinner Music

    In the wind a song came soaring. Over the hill and through the rustling branches.


    At first light and tinkling and whispering.  Like little kisses on the ears before slipping away.


    Then tumbling back with a hint of bass and a crescendo that hinted at its power


    It made the heart ache and thirst for more, and my feet moved toward it with no ability


    to stop the inexorable tide that pulled at my soul.


    My head irresistibly turning toward the tune so that the mighty and mysterious chords could more


    carefully feed my starving spirit.


    I crashed through some brush and down a slope before stomping through a small brook,


    oblivious to the new sogginess of my socks and boots.


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    Insignificant details to the driving search for more


    The song was closer now and far from being able


    to sort out the patterns into recognizable or familiar musical styles,


    my mind raced deeper


    into the chaotic rapture of the completely new and stunningly beautiful.


    Music had always


    held a power over me, in a limited way at least,


    to evoke emotion, but this was something


    far greater and deeply moving.


    For it was as if a lifetime of waiting had dulled my edge


    but now I was keen and sharp and filled with purpose.


    Scampering up a small rise covered in strange gray pebbles,


    I met the full glory of the sound, unhindered by turn of hill or standing tree.


    It¡¯s force washed over me like amighty wind,


    strangely pushing me back while pulling my ever onward. It was only


    then that I saw the dragon.


    His jeweled eyes seemed to blink once as I crested the mound


    and suddenly the music stopped.


    I lurched forward, almost falling flat on my face, as if


    I had been walking into a very strong wind that instantly stopped blowing.


    I recovered late and pulled up to stand just a foot or two from the tip of his enormous snout.


    Instead of brimstone the warm breath smelled faintly of oranges.


    The agony of his beginning to eat me was only


    slightly less severe than the heartache I felt when I realized that


    he couldn¡¯t sing while chewing.

 Treasure Hunters

    The dragon was old. Not in the way way people, or trees or the ancient cities of men were old, but old in the way of the very stones that made up the walls of the immense cavern in which he made his lair. They had still been warm from their birth in the volcano that had spewed them when he had first tunneled deep amongst their steaming bones to carve out his resting places. Now for untold thousands of years he had clawed and scrabbled around inside the tunnels, scraping smooth the walls and blackening them with the soot of his breath. In olden days he had often traveled about in the upper world, searching and sorting both sustenance and golden plunder, of which it takes ample supply to satisfy the tastes of a dragon.


    Thus the generations of people and livestock of the villages and towns that had attempted to spring up in the region during the early years following the volcano''s eruption had suffered greatly until they had developed sufficient genetic memory to leave the area within several hundred miles of the slope of his volcano an unpopulated waste. And that it was. But the years of men and his recollection of troubles is flawed and once again, farmers and herdsmen had turned their hungry eyes upon the plant-able acreage of the now quiet volcano''s lower slopes and a party of explorers and surveyors moved up the narrow canyon that cut the area that lay in the shadow of the mountain, off from the world of men.


    He felt them, like an itch deep between his ears, creasing his sleeping brow with a frown that ravaged his already ferocious visage into something even more menacing, if that were possible. His breath became more shallow and a slight curl of steam and smoke began curling from his nostrils. He coughed and came awake, one of his luminous liquid eyes, opening only the smallest of slits as the immense internal biological clock that was his heart began fathoming the heartbeats that had passed since he last closed his eyes. Even at the incredibly slow pace that a sleeping dragon''s heart beats, it was many. A long time then, he thought. Too long.


    He paused to sniff the air before moving. He hadn''t gotten this old by being hasty. Only once he was sure there was no smell of any warm blooded thing, did he raise his head, exposing the relatively soft underside of his neck and belly. Soft, if you consider a single layer of overlapping six inch by three inch bony scales defective. They had turned many a spear, but dragons, by nature are a paranoid lot.


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    In the olden days, there had been a few fools brazen enough to make a claim to the immense pile of gold and jewels on which he slept. Their crisped bones and rusted armor, lying about on the lower slopes of the mountain was probably no longer recognizable for what it had once been. He would have to make some sort of more permanent display., he thought. It was a pity human bone and iron swords didn''t hold up in the weather. Angry now, that he had been woken, he employed the psychic senses that had first triggered his response, turning it to finding the source of his aggravation. He could feel them. A party of four men dared to climb the slope of his mountain! His metallic blood could feel the magnetic wavering of their wood and steel weapons. Only four! Hardly a snack. He was hungry after his long sleep. But perhaps the town they had come from would not be far. Then there would be a feast!


    He uncoiled and creaked. His first movements after the eternity of his sleep surprisingly uncomfortable. They will pay! He was even more furious when he realized that a rock slide had completely closed off his main entrance and he had to dig out the back door. It had always been tight and this made him even angrier. It was good that his claws had grown so long, he thought as he cut through the hard rock like butter. It was dusty work though, and it made him sneeze. The heat of his flame scorched even him in this enclosed space and his anger reached new heights. His eyes were filled with blood.


    So it was that when the dragon burst from the backside of the mountain, gouting and spraying the morning sky with fire, he was a fair distance from the main entrance near where the men had stopped to make a pot of gourmet coffee on their little gas camping stove. He was far enough away for the guide to grab his high power hunting rifle and draw an accurate bead. He put six high velocity Winchester slugs through the bony chest plate armor dropping the flaming dragon like a screaming stone.


    ¡°Holy Crap Earl! you wasn''t kidding about the rumors. ¡° one of them said ¡°Nice shooting!¡±


    ¡°Thanks, Jim, now bring them sacks. We''ve got a lot of Gold to carry out of that cave over there. Hope your cell phone battery isn''t dead so we can call the chopper¡± It''s our lucky day!¡±

 Emancipation

    The mage light glowed soft and blue on the walls of the tunnel casting dancing shadows and creating multiple after images. It reflected dazzlingly off the shiny facets of the multi-colored stones that occasionally protruded from the walls of the narrow passageway. But even the vagrancy and unpredictability of such light could not find a way to reveal the face of the hooded figure, carefully and silently making its way in the otherwise total darkness. The staff that bore at it¡¯s upper tip, the source of the glow seemed ever carefully placed, just behind and to the right of the unseen walker so as to insure no stray beam would reveal the features beneath the cloak. The air was damp and cool with the smell and stillness of long disuse. It seemed to silently complain as it was swept into unfamiliar places by the movement of the robe and dark wooden staff which strangely made no noise upon the cold stone floor in its passing. Only when the figure at last stopped before a massive stone door, did it pull back the hood, revealing the face of a beautiful raven haired young woman. Her face took on a strange look of concentration as she studied the runes and markings on the door, pausing to carefully run her fingers over the symbols as well as her eyes. She had walked without hesitation past an untold wealth in diamonds and precious gems without even seeming to notice them to reach this door. What lay on the other side must be valuable indeed. Looking only once backwards up the tunnel she again faced the door and a strange word formed on her lips. Though not spoken loudly, it seemed to explode from her throat with a silent crackling of power.


    ¡°Stenr risa!¡±


    Nothing seemed to happen for several seconds as the first words spoken in this place in a thousand years hung like a promise in of spring in the chill winter¡¯s air. Then came an almost inaudible crack and a grinding vibration that was felt more than heard as the great door slid upward into the ceiling. Those that had made it would be pleased that it had worked so well after so much time, she thought as she stepped gracefully through the opening and began descending the ornately carved steps that spiraled down into a greater darkness. It would be useless to try and hold the door behind her open with a spell, as well as a waste of magical power. It would close again in just three hours, not to open for another thousand years. She picked up her pace. If the legends were true, the stone would not be far. The test ahead was not of speed but of wit. For it is not easy to out riddle a dragon, even a sleeping one.


    Up ahead the glow of her staff revealed the end of the great staircase and the beam began losing the walls as the cavern below opened up into a vast chamber. She dialed the light up to maximum, and though she held it somewhat behind her, her own eyes recoiled from the reflection of the sudden brilliance as the piercing white light that flew from the top of her staff. There at the bottom of the enormous circular room wrapped in the descending stair case on which she stood, lay the sleeping dragon, the guardian of the stone. She swallowed her fear as she had been trained to do as a child. Her feet and swirling robe made no discernible noise as she fairly flew down the wide steps of the staircase. She felt as if she was holding her breath, but of course she was not. The staircase was far too long and her pace too swift for that. The steady silent rise and fall of her chest, however, betrayed no unnecessary sound and had been calculated to meet the requirements of a hasty decent. Nonetheless, she arrived at the bottom of the stairs with a pounding in her chest and a feeling of lightheartedness she had not expected. Her nerves were shaken even more as she stepped over a pile of badly burned and clothing covering the dried and blackened bones of one of her predecessors. She wondered which one it was. She had learned all of their names, and studied all the techniques they intended to try to circumvent the dragon. Obviously their strategies had been flawed and they had failed. Coming back to herself she cleared her mind and tried to focus. She would only have one chance to get this right, or she too would end up yet another sad story and a permanent fixture of the floor of this cavern. She wondered if her clothing would be recognizable in a thousand years.


    Finishing her silent journey across the floor and standing at last, directly in front of the dragons enormous snout, her feet seemed the last part of her to get the message and she almost stumbled as she came to a halt. She felt the hem of her robe swish softly against the floor and her heart almost stopped.


    ¡°It just won¡¯t due to fall over your own feet now, Terenia¡± she thought to herself. ¡°You¡¯ve come to far!¡±


    The beast did move, and slowly again, she began to breathe. The time had come.


    ¡°Slytha un Draum¡± she said as softly as she could, but loudly enough to ensure the spell would function. ¡°Sleep and Dream please!¡± she though to herself, ¡°Or I¡¯m dead already¡±


    Only a momentary twitch of the three foot wide eyelids conveyed the message that she would breathe yet a little longer as the simple spell took hold. She felt her knees buckle just a bit at the realization that her ridiculous fool-hardy plan had actually worked. Such a simple spell, often used on over tired children by desperate mothers with almost no craft of magic in them at all. Yet the utterance of any other words spoken aloud in this place would certainly have woken Maazmurn and his flame. She had been right! She dared not, however waste time, and she cursed herself silently for this indulgence. She turned her attention to the dragons outstretched front claws, fully twenty yards away. They were pressed together tighter than any vise and she knew that no force of magic could move them apart except the dragon himself. Between the dragon¡¯s claws was her prize. This next bit would be the hard part.


    She moved to stand in a new place, positioning herself on the far side of the prize, just inches from the glistening front black talons and looked back down the forearms at the sleeping head of the dragon. Maazmurn looked, she thought, strangely like a cat that had fallen asleep while playing with a recent catch. Head down and paws reflexively still together holding fast to some poor mouse that might still lay alive between them. Knowing full well, that should the cat wake hungry, his remaining minutes would end. She felt the heavy ticking of the passing of the seconds left to her before the great door up and behind her irrevocably closed and opened her mind to the dreamer.


    She had practiced on lizards and alligators, as well as other animals, putting them to sleep with the simple spell then delving into their dreaming minds. Simple creatures with monochromatic dreams. A reptilian way of thought was what she had thought to prepare herself for, but nothing she had seen in their minds prepared her for the explosion of turbulent color and cacophony of sound in Maazmurn¡¯s mind.


    The wind howled ferociously and it took her many seconds to figure out why the scenery was moving past so quickly. He was flying! She could feel his glee and was almost caught up in the thrill of the moment as together as his mental stow-away they dipped and twirled. Suddenly they fell like a stone and she felt his claws tear into the flesh of a huge deer that desperately tried to dodge away from the outstretched talons and death from above. She forced herself to stay fully attentive as his jaws snapped through the beast¡¯s backbone and blood coursed over his fangs and out of his jaws spilling onto the warm spring earth. She could not afford miss anything that would give her the chance to motivate him to unclench his real claws back in the cave.


    Maazmurn devoured both halves of the buck in two large gulps then surprised her by saying,


    ¡°I really should thank you, unseen magician. I enjoyed that very much!¡±


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    Stunned at how quickly she had been discovered, she knew it was useless to remain silent.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you enjoyed it Maazmurn.¡± she said trying to convey a tone of confidence rather than the terrified mental scream she found building inside her telepathic projection. Calmly she asked,


    ¡°What would you like to do next?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡± he replied. ¡° How much time do I have before I wake up, do you think?¡±


    She was somewhat surprised at the question. She had thought that once the dragon became aware that he was dreaming, he would be able to wake up at will, but it seemed the sleep spell still held him. Not willing to give away too much, she cautiously answered.


    ¡°I really don¡¯t know, I¡¯ve never used this spell on anyone so magnificent and magical as you. It could be years!¡±


    ¡°Years, perhaps.¡± he replied. ¡°However, I believe you must be working with a much shorter time-frame. That door at the top of this vault was made and set with a magic older and more powerful than mine. I would guess we only have slightly over a couple of hours at best¡± he finished, taking to the air again with an incredible lunging jump that gave the dragon the several seconds he needed to unfurl his wings, before crashing back to earth. The giant leathery flaps beat the air briskly as they gained altitude. Her mental image kept pace and she found herself flying alongside. They soon leveled off.


    ¡°It was a good idea, simplistically brilliant in fact, except for one thing¡± he said with a smile, the blood still staining his fangs from the deer kill a strange visual paradox to the calmness of his voice. ¡°I haven¡¯t dreamed in twenty thousand years.¡±


    One of her teachers had believed that dragons might not be able to dream at all and did not sleep as other creatures. He had speculated that the vast amounts of time they could rest between wakings seemed to indicate more of a type of suspended animation, interrupted only with short periods of violence and death. Terenia and the other members of the order had hoped he was wrong. Now it seemed that she would pay for her mistake. This dragon had been woken out of immortal hibernation and straight into a brightly lit, colorful dream. It was if she had struck a match on the surface of its subconscious. No wonder it had spotted her immediately.


    ¡°It¡¯s a pity¡± replied Terenia, ¡°You have a very vivid dream life and you are interesting company¡±


    The dragon did not answer that but suddenly banked hard left and picked up the pace, his wings becoming almost a blur as he drove himself fiercely toward a distant mountain peak, aglow with the golden red light of the suddenly setting sun. In this dream world, it seemed, the dragon could control the rate at which time passed. It was suddenly eerily dark and as the stars began twinkling with a cold distant light. There was no moon. The dragon gouted a huge plume of flame, briefly illuminating the dark waters of a lake over which they flew.


    ¡°Where are we now?¡± asked Terenia, the darkness of the night sky reminding her far too much of the darkened cavern and the glistening diamonds she had passed on her way to this meeting.


    ¡°This is the place I lived before I was forced to take the oath that binds me to guard the stone¡± he said gruffly as they landed in a large clearing surrounded by huge and ancient trees. ¡°Here I will visit with she who was my wife. Step back out of sight into the trees invisible magician, I do not know if she will see or smell you in this dream, but this part of my dream, I will not share with you.¡±


    Terenia complied, taking the opportunity to ease from the mental dream link and survey the chamber. The dragon had not opened his claws, even in the slightest, from around the prize she sought. Even with the killing of the deer and the flying, his grip was secure. Though, like a dog in its sleep she could see slight twitching and movements of his facial muscles and legs. She thought about easing away and making a run for the door, but was not sure if the sleep spell would last once she left the dragon¡¯s side. So primitive was the sleep spell that it required almost constant proximity of the spell caster with the one on who it was cast. She didn¡¯t think she would make it across the cavern, especially if the dragon was interrupted in the middle of his date. Of course, if she could just get her hand upon the stone he guarded, everything would be different. Time was almost half gone. She decided that she was going to have to take some chances. As gently as possible she peeked back into the dragon¡¯s dream, coming slowly out from behind the ancient trees.


    The two dragons lay entwined in sleep, but all around the ground was torn and slashed by savage markings of an active night. The sun was already up and Terina thought it felt like about 10:00 a.m. Her approach, quiet as it was caused the two of them to uncoil hastily and the slightly smaller female to almost instantly take flight.


    ¡°She goes to bear my young, alone¡± The dragon said with a great sadness. ¡°But, for dream of the memory of this night, you again have my thanks¡± he said noticing the torn up earth and broken tree limbs and looking somewhat embarrassed.


    Terenia felt herself starting to blush slightly, but decided to stick to business.


    ¡°Why did you give all this up? Your family and freedom to sit in a dark hole?¡± she asked with a tinge of anger creeping into her voice.


    ¡°I did this FOR them! To ensure the future of the whole dragon race. For my children. My arrangement with the dark lord dictated the terms. Promises were made, assurances given¡±


    ¡°Did you really think he would keep up his side of the bargain, you fool? Hissed Terenia.


    ¡°He promised he would protect the race of dragons from MEN!¡± roared back the dragon, his friendly demeanor vanishing like a ice chip in a blazing furnace. ¡°This stone ensures that your magic and your technology will never prevail against the dragons in our place as rightful rulers of this world¡±


    ¡°He couldn¡¯t do it!¡± she retorted. ¡°It took a little longer but we developed a summoning charm several thousand years ago that pulled that stone you thought you were guarding right out between your fingers. We divided the stone into grains of sand and carried them to the far corners of the world, using its power to capture and enslave your kind. ¡°Your children grind grain pulling the mill wheel with chains made with one grain of that stone. My own little daughter rides a young dragon as a plaything. It is unfortunate sometimes how children can be so cruel to animals. The only reason I have come into this dark pit is to show you mercy by giving you this last good dream and then killing you!¡±


    ¡°No!¡± The dragon roared, and even in the dreamworld Terenia could feel the blazing heat of its breath casting about as it tried to burn her unreachable phantom.


    ¡°When you wake, you will find everything I have said is true!¡± She replied calmly, severing the mental link and releasing the sleep spell in one mental yank.


    The dragons yellow eyes snapped open and his head shot forward on his long serpentine neck toward the end of his claws,and that which he guarded. His eyes drawn toward the gleaming sparkling fire at the end of her staff. But just before he inhaled for the breath he would use to incinerate her on the spot, he could not resist the impulse to open his claws to see if the amulet she had boasted of as stolen was there. It was. It was also then that she struck, reaching in with her mind and drawing the stone to herself. Taking into herself the power it possessed to control all dragons. A single word exploded from her lips.


    ¡°Deyja!¡±


    The dragon¡¯s heart that had beat for twenty thousand years exploded in his chest. Valiantly he tried to aim his thrashing dying body so as to crush or maim the mage, who moved like a dancer under his flailing legs and tail until he finally shuddered to a complete stop. The lights of his yellow eyes went slowly dim, but the magician did not wait for them to go dark before fleeing hurriedly up the spiral steps and through the heavy stone door. Her breathing loud and ragged as she sucked in huge lungfuls of air as she climbed. Her feet banging out an accelerating crescendo as she ran loud and hard . Looking behind her only a few yards back as she sprinted up the tunnel she saw the door at last slam shut, sealing away the still cooling corpse of the dragon that had stood guard for these many years. Only then did she slow and allow her tortured lungs to catch up with her fleeing body. She leaned heavily against the wall, feeling the heavy toll of her sprint to freedom. The dragonstone pulsed with power as she felt through it''s connection the way it began to seek out and subjugate the dragons nearby, forcing them into submission.


    Later that day as she emerged from the cave in the side of the mountain she found several of the dragons already gathered. Everything was different as mankind''s former rulers, groveled before her, heads bowed low in service as the power of the stone she now claimed and controlled was felt. They, that once ruled the land and the air would be, now, no longer rule by unchecked fang and claw. She could feel their burning anger as it fought against the power of the stone, but at least for now, its power over them was unchallengeable. It had been a thousand years since the stone had been used to control them, but it seemed more than up to the task. At least for now

 A Little Dinner Music Chapter 2: The Dragons Dirge

    Chapter Two: The Dragon¡¯s Dirge


    I was not unaccustomed to the hunt¡ªnor to the delicate balance of duty and desire that defined my nature. In the vast theater of the wild, where the wind carried my ancient song to every rustling leaf and distant hill, I knew well that humans were but one of the many delectable strains in the chorus of life. Their fleeting, trembling hearts and the bittersweet allure of their song were sustenance, not sin.


    I had felt the tug of the melody¡ªa bittersweet echo of my own ancient call¡ªbeckoning another wanderer to the stage. As the taste of the last meal lingered, I allowed myself a moment of reflection. There was no profound sorrow in my heart for the lost life; it was merely the natural order, an inevitable transaction in a world of hunger and beauty. Ambivalence, rather than guilt, stirred within me¡ªa mild recognition of a duty both monstrous and necessary.


    I lifted my massive head, and with a slow, deliberate exhalation that stirred the nearby branches, I resumed my song. It was a haunting aria, woven with the secrets of centuries, spun with the allure of distant memories and unsung tragedies. My voice carried across the clearing, resonant and inviting, a siren call not to a doomed fate but to an exquisite inevitability. Every note was a promise¡ªa bittersweet invitation that masked the nature of its end.


    In the soft veil of twilight, a solitary figure wandered near the edge of my dominion¡ªa person lost in thought, unsuspecting of the silent, melodic trap being set. I observed from a distance, my jeweled eyes reflecting the last gleams of day. The lure was irresistible; the gentle cascade of my harmonies coaxed the wanderer forward, step by hesitant step. To the human, it might have seemed like the call of destiny or a muse in the wind, but to me, it was simply the prelude to a ritual as old as time.


    My scales shimmered with the fading light, and as I drew nearer, I considered the irony of it all. I had sung before, not for art, not for the simple joy of music, but as an instrument¡ªa tool¡ªto gather those destined to nourish both body and soul. There was no malice in this; it was simply an unyielding part of who I was. My role was defined by the natural law: I sang, and they came.


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    The wanderer¡¯s pace quickened under the compelling magic of my voice, each footfall measured in anticipation. I moved forward, the rhythmic cadence of my powerful wings stirring the cool air. I felt the ancient tug of hunger intermingled with a resigned acceptance. I had no regrets¡ªonly the inevitability of the cycle, the gentle cadence of fate.


    The wanderer neared. I could see his eyes now, dazed and unfocused, utterly lost in my melody. I opened my mouth to complete the ritual, to draw him into the final embrace of fate.


    But then¡ª


    His gaze sharpened.


    A flicker of something alien rippled through the air between us¡ªan unseen force, a whisper of defiance.


    Pain.


    White-hot agony lanced through my chest, breaking my song into a fractured, discordant wail. I staggered back, smoke curling from the wound that had suddenly appeared beneath my scales. The human was no ordinary prey¡ªhe was something else, something more. His hand crackled with unseen power, the air around him warping as though reality itself bent to his will.


    I bared my fangs, snarling through the pain, my throat already forming the next devastating note. I would break him. I would shatter him into nothingness.


    But before the sound could leave my maw, he spoke a word.


    A single, terrible word.


    The air around my throat constricted¡ªsomething heavy, unseen, cold as iron yet humming with raw, pulsing energy. My voice choked off into silence. I clawed at my neck, but my talons met something solid, a band of dark metal burning with ancient sigils.


    A collar.


    The song died.


    The silence that followed was more terrible than any pain, more unbearable than any wound. I thrashed, roared¡ªbut the sound was hollow, empty, stripped of the power that had once bent the world to my will.


    The human stood before me, his chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths. He was afraid¡ªI could smell it in the air¡ªbut beneath that fear was something else. Determination.


    ¡°You¡¯ve taken enough,¡± he said, his voice shaking but firm. ¡°Now, it¡¯s your turn to serve.¡±


    Serve?


    I lunged, wings flaring, teeth bared¡ªbut the collar burned, freezing my limbs in place. My body convulsed as the magic shackled me to stillness, my breath ragged with the unfamiliar sensation of helplessness.


    The human stepped closer, emboldened by his victory. ¡°You won¡¯t sing again unless I allow it.¡±


    The weight of his words settled over me, more suffocating than the collar itself.


    No.


    I was the hunter. The predator. The singer of the wind and the devourer of the weak.


    But now¡ª


    I was bound.


    Silenced.


    Enslaved.

 Emancipation Chapter 2: A Balance of Understanding

    Terenia stood before the bowed forms of the dragons, their mighty wings tucked tightly against their bodies, their serpentine tails curled submissively around their feet. The Dragonstone pulsed in her grasp, its deep crimson core swirling with inner fire. A storm of emotions waged within her. Triumph, yes, but also an unsettling weight. Power was a heavy burden, and this power was unlike any she had ever wielded. The dragons, once proud rulers of the sky, were now hers to command. But for how long? And at what cost?


    A gust of wind swept down from the mountains, rustling her cloak and carrying the scent of pine and stone. She let her fingers tighten around the stone.


    "Rise," she commanded.


    The dragons lifted their heads, eyes gleaming with resentment. Some bore scars of past battles with humans, some had lived long enough to remember a time before the first subjugation. She could feel their silent fury, their resistance pushing against the force of the stone, like the sea battering a fortress wall. But they did not defy her. They could not.


    One among them, a massive bronze-scaled male with piercing emerald eyes, took a step forward. His voice was a low rumble, like distant thunder.


    "You have stolen our will," he said. "What now, sorceress? Will you force us to slaughter our kin? Will you make us your beasts of burden, your war mounts? What do you intend with this power?"


    Terenia hesitated. She had trained her entire life for this moment, envisioned herself standing victorious over the conquered dragons, a new era of human dominance secured. Yet, now that she was here, standing before creatures of ancient wisdom and untamed majesty, something in her wavered.


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    She looked into the bronze dragon¡¯s eyes and saw not just anger, but sorrow.


    "I seek balance," she said at last. "For too long, our two races have warred, spilling blood in the name of dominance. I do not wish to see dragons in chains or humans in ashes. With the stone, I can ensure peace."


    A ripple of unease passed through the assembled dragons. The bronze dragon¡¯s gaze did not soften.


    "Peace? Through control? We are not cattle to be herded, nor golems to be commanded. We are dragons! We are fire and flight, storm and fury. We bow only because we must, not because we accept your rule."


    Terenia''s grip tightened on the stone as the power within it responded to her emotions. She could feel the dragons'' resistance like an ever-growing tide against a dam. The stone would hold them for now, but for how long?


    A smaller dragon, silver and sleek, lifted her head. Her voice was softer but no less firm. "And when the stone fails, as all things do in time, what then, human? What will stop the next war from consuming us all?"


    Terenia had no answer.


    She exhaled slowly, lowering the staff that bore the mage light. The blue glow faded, allowing the late afternoon sun to cast long shadows over the gathered dragons. She had claimed victory, but it did not feel like a triumph.


    "Then let us find another way," she said, more to herself than to them.


    The bronze dragon¡¯s eyes narrowed. "And if we refuse? If we break our chains and reclaim the skies?"


    Terenia met his gaze. "Then you will force me to be your enemy. But I would rather be your ally."


    A heavy silence settled over the gathering, the weight of history and destiny pressing upon them all. Terenia knew she had only begun to grasp the power she held¡ªand the responsibility that came with it. The stone had granted her dominion, but true rule was more than control.


    One by one, the dragons lifted their heads, watching her with a mix of wariness and curiosity. The path forward was uncertain, but Terenia knew one thing: if she wished to keep the peace, she would have to fight for it. Not with magic. Not with force. But with something far more difficult to wield¡ªunderstanding.


    And so, with the dragons at her back and the weight of an ancient power in her grasp, Terenia stepped forward, into a future unwritten.