The Hoard

[WP] Fearing that the passage of centuries may have altered the value of their hoard, an ancient dragon hires you to appraise the lot. It's remarkably tricky to stay objective and focused when your client has razor talons and fire breath. And that's not even mentioning the more esoteric "treasures".

*****

I thought dragons were dangerous. This deal we made tells me otherwise.

I was the first human it found, which puzzled me. Surely from so high up, one could see the vast multitudes of civilization peppered across these mountainous landscapes, holed up within walls of stone lined with armaments the likes of which could never topple a beast of this dragon's size. Yet, there it was, at the doorstep of a hermit whose abode was barely camouflaged at best - and on the verge of collapsing at worst.

It said the smell attracted them and reminded them of humility. Someone of my stature was more than worthy of looking upon its hoard and judging its value, it said because there was no chance that I would try to flee with any of their treasures. I suppose that wouldn't be too far from the truth. I did shirk my royal blood to live in the wild, to be more connected with the spirits of nature. Material possessions meant little to me, but they still meant something, and so I proposed a deal.

Were I to agree to appraise this creature's enormity of wealth, they would, in turn, provide for me a new home. My shack was falling apart and, while I'm more in tune with nature than I have ever been before, I am no carpenter or builder. I never learned in my 42 years of living; the servants of my former realm were the jacks. To this day, I wonder what happened to them. When I left, I gave them all the wealth I had. Hopefully, they used it well.

The dragon acquiesced almost immediately. It took little thought to consider, and the beast was more than willing to offer up its own abode as a temporary refuge for as long as I needed to evaluate the hoard. The scale of time was different for me - temporary was more permanent than they knew.

I was never a particularly studious individual, but I knew a few things about dragons and their homes. Vacated homes served well as camps for necromancers, due to the high amount of bones and rotting corpses there. When it comes to the order of deference, humans were relatively last on that chain, even behind livestock; dragons were skeptical of us and with good reason. We are violent people and take everything as a danger, whether it is or not. Because of this, dragons would rarely ever consult humans on anything. We are, in essence, not friends.

This means that the beast went through every other species in the land before settling down in my area. They were desperate, but their bellies were likely full. They were known to kill the ones who couldn't help them. Chances are there were remains from other dragons in its lair.

The flight was short but terrifying. Another thing that I learned is that dragons fly quite fast. From the ground, they seem slow. They're large and sometimes lumbering. Their footwork is actually quite abysmal, but in the air, they soared with speed and grace, like that of an eagle. It's why their wings are targeted first. I couldn't remember any of this at the moment, though, because I was busy gripping onto the dragon's scales for dear life. The wind blasting into my ears sounded like the trebuchets that tore the walls of my land asunder.

When we arrived at the threshold, I was surprised to find how intricately designed the cavern arch was. It was decorated with small gems and bones, meticulously patterned out from end to end. The cavern itself overlooked a particularly deep caldera, and even from hundreds of feet up, I could feel the heat emanating off the water. Taking a dip wouldn't be in the cards any time soon.

Contrary to its position, the cavern was cold. Ingots and coins in excess of numbers so high that I couldn't register them off the top of my head made for good conductors of freezing temperature. I had never seen so many treasures in my life. If I had to make a guess, everything within sight could probably be valued at--

"No. I know the value of this. It is dependent on the greed of your kind. What I seek to appraise is this."

When the dragon disappeared, I stood there quietly as its body was swallowed by the dark. Footsteps faded and I was left alone with the hoard. The foolish would think it easy to cut and run, probably with a couple of chests, but dragons, as I learned, are exceptional hunters. They can pick up on and track individual scents from tens of miles away, an evolutionary trait that allowed them to avoid human beings almost entirely.

They returned cradling a large rectangular container lined with gold framing and inset with glass panes. How they didn't crack these was beyond my imagination. I'd always thought that dragons were vicious and brutish, that they handled everything without care, but I was wrong and when I saw what lay inside, I realized why.

The container was some sort of coffin. Separated from the living world by glass and gold was a woman, dressed in funeral garb. She laid at rest inside, unmoving. Her face was recognizable, and I realized two things in that visceral moment.

I knew exactly from where the coffin was obtained, and I knew why out of all people, the dragon chose me.

*****

THE END.