It was a dark and stormy night. While torrential rain slapped viciously against the mountain terrain, the air inside was sullen and silent. Deep within the reaches, in one of the largest caves, a dragon slept.
Although one would never know, as the creature was still as a statue. Only the slightest wisps of vapour wafted from its nostrils. It had mastered hibernetic sleep so well that virtually no movement or sound could be detected. The 50 meter behemoth was coiled tightly into a tidy ball, nestled within a doughnut shaped nest. A well-like structure made from various luminous and lustrous bits. Shiny objects glittering in pale moonlight.
Seemingly random to the untrained eye, certain patterns emerge amongst the piles. One can see a distinct organization to their construction- a certain method to the madness to the beast’s structure of treasure.
A single eye flicks open. The iris glows, emitting a soft yet vivid violet. It’s pupil shrinks rapidly into a slit as it methodically scans the den in pulsed darts. The creature blinks a couple of times before getting up with surprising grace and alacrity for its size. It spins around to reveal a bowl like container made of what appears to be a large dragon scale. Inside lies a pool of still liquid. Cradled there, gleaming softly, lay three huddled dragon eggs.
The dragon breathes a gentle stream of fiery blue heat at the eggs. They wobble together against the blast, clinking in gentle unison. Steam fills the air as the liquid instantly boils and the eggs begin to seep from the bottom up, a warm yellow glow. As the last flames paint the eggs with light, the dragon dribbles a bucket sized drop of mucous on them. The syrupy drop dribbles down, coating the eggs with a jelly-like substance.
The mother beams quietly to herself in satisfaction of a job well done. The cave is basked in warm sunshine, giving the illusion of daylight. As if someone had just flicked on the lights to the sun- thousands of feet underground.
---
The air rings with reverberations as the crown blacksmith slams his hammer against a chisel, carving something into a metal cylinder. It glows red hot, an angry neon halo. Behind him stand five straw stuffed mannequins. A scarecrow family. The two adults heads are adorned with gleaming gold crowns, inlaid with an intricate pattern dimpling their rims. On the smallest two heads rest wooden carved replica crowns- carrying the same distinct indentations along their base. The last crown is posted in front of the blacksmith as he glances back and forth from his reference model to the nascent metal ring clasped in his forceps. He is visibly strained, wiping sweat away from his brow with a contained sigh. Candles down to their last licks litter the room.
A deep boom shakes the castle. His eyes dart up in fear. He takes a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wipes his face as he splashes the inscribed metal ring into a cauldron of water. He expertly shields his face as clouds of steam fill the room.
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The last wisps of vapour linger as the dragon finishes another heat cycle on her eggs. She unfolds her wings and crunches down ever so slightly before bouncing up. A light breeze billows towards the ground as she lifts up effortlessly. Her wings fold in as she spirals through a narrow hole, before fanning out majestically to a cloudy moonless sky. Two seemingly floating orbs drink in the scene, twinkling like stars amongst the grey fog. Her nostrils flare in a rhythmic beat, her tail snaking hypnotically as she hovers. Then quick as a flash, she disappears back through the hole. As she descends, she veers off to take a sharp turn, gliding down a hall of stalactite ice.
The hall opens to another cave, this one with a waterfall splashing into a modest lake. Landing upon it’s shore, she bows her head to lap up fresh water. When she's done she steps under the waterfall before lifting off again. Suspended in the cave, she twirls to shake off the water in a swirling sprinkler. As she floats back towards the nest, a nostril twitches. Her eyes widen as she instantly recognizes the early signs of smoke. She pumps her wings in haste, barreling back to investigate.
She discovers the main chamber to be covered in a light gray smog, growing rapidly. Her eyes narrow upon confirmation of what she’d feared. A fire had broken out somewhere along the mountain. With practiced efficiency, she lugs up a thick ball of mucous over the eggs before spitting a purple flame that curls the scale into a protective basket shape. She hooks it with her talon before sweeping up to the main escape vent. As she nears the top, her wings again folded in expertly to swing through the exit. Only this time she falters. As she draws near, she realizes the exit has been blocked. Barricaded with something. She unleashes a fiery blast, but it flickers hopelessly against the blockade. Frustrated, she drops before hurtling upwards, crashing her forehead against the barrier. But it’s no use.
After a few more futile attempts, she switches gears and dives back down towards the waterfall cave. This time she flies straight up towards the water spout. There is a small opening barely a foot wide. She manages to squeeze the eggs through before succumbing to the smoke.
---
Screams pierce through the night as armored men move throughout the castle. Shadows depict murder and terror, flickering crimes in the pale torchlight. Inside a tower, a matronly nun glances furtively over her shoulder as she swaddles a baby in a bassinet. Her fingers fumble as she clumsily wraps linens around it.
Footsteps fill the room below as another female voice cries out in struggle.
“No! Please- you can’t-“ a loud crash interrupts. She screams.
“Stop!” A male voice bellows “You know they’ll never allow- ARGGH!”
The nun freezes, her shoulders stiffen at the sound of sword on flesh, followed by the soft thud of stilled bodies. She gulps as she rushes to the fireplace. She grabs the metal poker and diligently taps the stones of the hearth. The backing snaps open to reveal an escape shaft, which she carefully climbs down. The baby looks on at the nun curiously from the basket hooked into the crook of her arm. Her feet blindly search for each rung as she lowers into the darkness.
As she reaches the bottom, muffled screams continue above. She quickly shuffles down a torchlit hall before stopping at a door. Gentling placing down the baby, a jingle of metal slips from her cloak sleeve. She inserts a nondescript key to unveil the locksmith’s chamber. The baby coos as she walks in and scans the room. She spots a familiar glimmer, her eyes stopping at the unfinished crown still half submerged in water. She grabs the now cooled ring and tucks it into the folds of the bassinet, before locking up the room behind her. She briskly continues down the hall, making a series of twists and turns before stopping at another door.
This one identical to the last, and indeed, unlocked by the exact same key.
Upon entrance, the nun closes the door behind her and bolts it with two interior locks. She approaches the fireplace and again taps the hearth with an iron poker. Another staircase is revealed, only this one leading up. She climbs in and is almost at the top when she hears the fireplace snap shut below. As she glances down, she almost misses the horrifying scene awaiting her. Blood gushed from a half-severed horse a few feet away, it’s eyes still twitching in agony. Two men lay heaped in lifeless mounds, while flames engulfed the town square around them. She silently mourned for the two knights, praying they were spared better deaths than their stead. Now with no escort or transportation, she looked around in desperation. The fire was inching closer. A man is pierced by a flaming arrow, spreading across his back as he wails and jumps into the rushing creek. She hesitates, but as arrows rain down around her, she runs to release the bassinet into the moving stream. It splashes down into the water, wobbles but stays afloat.
A tree snaps and crashes down, its trunk hollowed out by flames, leaving only glowing coals. This send a plume of smoke to billow into the forest. A flock of ravens erupt into the sky, cawing into the night. Looking down, they see a baby gargling in delight as it bobs and weaves along the river. Apparently oblivious to the death and destruction it had just narrowly escaped.
---
Water slaps against the dragon’s listless tail. A thin layer of ash covers the cave like a charcoal blanket of snow surrounding the lake. The dragons eyes flare open as she regains consciousness, taking in the scene around her. Her diaphragm heaves in sporadic bursts as she hacks up an inky sludge.
She looks into the waterfall crevice, but the eggs have vanished. She swallows a few large gallops of water before turning to assess the damage to the den. There she also finds a dark layer of ash over everything. She flies to the height of the ceiling before releasing a spiral of water to rain below, washing the ash away. Next she reaches for a cache of rocks near the center of the nest, scooping one up expertly with her claw before lobbing it into her mouth. Her jaws gnash down violently before swallowing the mineral down. An orb of light grows as it trails down her throat before settling in her belly. The dragon folds up into her nest, falling asleep with a bright glow humming within her.
---
A molten beam of fire erupts from the mountain as the exit barrier disintegrates to dust, no match for the newly charged flames. Out emerges a dark figure, eyes aglow even in the bright daylight as it sinks quietly down the mountain range. The dragon weaves it’s flight path along the creek, eyes scanning for any sign of her eggs. Her neck twitches. Despite nothing detected in her line of vision, she shifts course and drops down to land. She stills herself, reading the air around her. Her eyes dart to a thick bush nearby. She wades through and uncovers an egg. Still slightly glowing, but is cracked along one side. She inhales swiftly in alarm before blowing blue flames to heat it up. The shell begins to shimmer, as the crack seems to melt away.
She sets upon finding her remaining eggs, blowing a gentle gust of hot air through the bushes. They rustle with a distinct rattle coming from her left. Another egg. This one also cracked, with a couple of dents along the bottom. She quickly warms it up, the damage again seemingly melts away, leaving only the faintest white spots. Only one more. She rustles the shrubs again, listening for the telltale rattle, but none came. She closes her eyes and aims her neck to the sky, snout angled up. A silent moment passes before her eyes snap open. She wisps off into the tangle of trees towards the creek. There, floating amongst the rocks- a bassinet.
The dragon peered inside to find a human child, cooing against the backdrop of the babbling brook. There, nestled on its lap was her egg, perfect and pristine- not a single crack or dent to be found.