Nal-Arzul was dying.

​

He knew the signs: scales falling out, eyes dimming, flaming breath coming out as a blast of hot air. He had seen it happen to many a rival before him, and sometimes even gloated about how they declined while he only grew stronger with age. But now he felt the Reaper casually strolling up behind him, sword at the ready (no dragon would ever allow itself to be taken by a scythe! That was a farming tool). His children sensed it too. They knew the end would come for him sooner rather than later. A decade, at the most. They came crawling out of their lairs to visit him and pay their respects for the first time in decades, centuries even. Each made sure to come and tell him how much they respected him and how they always thought well of him. And worst of all, he felt tired, so very tired, that he could not even justify the effort it would take to drive them all out. Even so, they knew that, even together, their combined might was no match for his waning strength. Not yet, anyway. And so he sat there, atop the hoard he has spent a lifetime building, and listened to them vie for his attention.

​

“Father,” the eldest, Arnum, crooned. His voice, which rumbled with the strength of earthquakes, lowered itself to almost tender tones, “I cannot begin to say how sad I am to see you in this state.” A great, golden claw moved to his armored chest and he let out a great sigh. “It wounds me so to see one of your stature, your grandeur, laid so low!”

The youngest, small but quicker of mind and body, chimed in. “But still! You look absolutely ferocious. A terror of the mortal world. And the immortal one, yes?”

​

Arnum’s eyes flashed with fire and he glowered at his brother. “Of course, Spiriak,” he said with false courtesy, “I would think that goes without saying.”

​

“A terror!” Spiriak repeated brightly.

​

“Thank you, brother,” Arnum growled.

​

“Absolutely—”

​

“Spiriak!” Arnum roared. He cleared his throat. “Please, do not speak out of turn.”

​

The younger dragon frowned. “Out of turn? Since when do you get to decide that?”

​

Arnum’s claws dug into the ground, leaving gouges in the stone floor. He let out a scoff and turned back towards his father. “I apologize,” he said, bowing his head, “Of course you are still magnificent, father. A true titan among the sheep of this world. I meant no disrespect. Unlike some others in this room.”

​

Nal-Arzul’s eldest daughter, Chaarix, rolled her eyes. “Boys, boys,” she said, “You’re never going to win him over that way. You’re being way too obvious.”

​

The two brothers bristled and growled at her. “And how,” Arnum snarled, “Are you any different?”

She smirked in return, a very draconic smirk that carried far more danger than an ordinary one. “Because I don’t see a reason to hide it. I’m honest.” She looked towards her father and beamed. “Why pretend? You’re dying. Why not pick one of us for your successor? Why not me, the least annoying—”

​

Spiriak bristled. “Now that’s not—”

​

“Best looking.”

​

Arnum snarled. “I protest that—”

​

“And best all-around dragon of us all?” Chaarix smirked.

​

“Says who?” Spiriak and Arnum bellowed in unison.

​

Chaarix smirked. “Can you believe them, father?” she said, “Such children.” She puffed out her chest and drew herself up regally. “Unlike me, of course. I appreciate you and all you’ve done for us. Why, I--”

​

“Careful, sister! Your hypocrisy is showing.” Spiriak called.

​

Chaarix’s mouth worked silently. She put a claw to her chest. “Brother,” she said, eyes watering, “You wound me. I am not a hypocrite. Never have been. Never will. I hold myself to every standard I expect others to follow.”

​

Arnum’s eyes lit up with fierce amusement. “Oh? And what about that time--”

​

“Didn’t happen,” Chaarix snapped, “Whatever it was, it did not happen. Got it?”

​

Nal-Arzul sighed heavily. Another of his children, Aurelia, who shared her eldest brother’s brilliant gold scales, sat down beside him. She, in her own way, sympathized with her father. She had seen her siblings go through this song and dance so many times. Arnum’s pride blinded him to anything more than five feet beyond his snout, but his strength made it difficult for anyone to knock him down a peg. Spiriak was both a contrarian and opportunist, who liked nipping and snapping at the others, literally and figuratively. Chaarix, meanwhile, had enough smugness to outdo a whole legion of cats. Only Aurelia, and her youngest, quietest brother, Chazmir, remained aloof.

Still, she could not let an opportunity to ingratiate herself to her father go to waste. She leaned in and whispered softly in his ear. “Father,” she said, “Ignore them. I—"

​

And that was the moment the elder dragon snapped.

​

His claw came down and smote the ground with such force that all the other dragons froze. “Enough!” he roared with the force of an eruption, and then fell into a fit of coughing. Smoke spewed from his maw, wreathing him in a cloud black lit by the glow of dying embers. His lips curled in disgust. “You sicken me,” he snarled, “Dragons, bowing down, debasing themselves to please another. It’s degrading to our species. And my own children too!” He scoffed.

They looked down, eyes on the ground, adopting an air of contrition. However, the gold piled there, a hoard large enough to satisfy even a dragon’s greed, glittered in their eyes. Nal-Arzul felt a chuckle rumble free from his chest. “I see,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “I see right through you all. You don’t care. You never cared.” His toothy maw split into a grin. “Good! Now stop with these games. I’ve no patience for them anymore. You want my hoard, yes?”

 

His children hesitated.

​

The eldest dragon’s eyes flashed. “Yes?” he roared.

 

“Yes father!”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Um, well, yes.”

 

“I…yes.”

 

The flame in Nal-Arzul’s eyes died back down. “Good. We understand each other,” he growled, “Now here me. One of you is worthy to inherit my wealth.” Their heads perked up. “But! I do not yet know who that is.” He turned away from them, rolling onto his side. “So, why are you sticking around here? Go out. Prove yourselves. Show me you are more worthy than your siblings.”

 

Spiriak cleared his throat. “Are we not--”

 

“Actions! I want to see actions, not words!” the elder dragon roared, “Words are useless! Get out there! Kidnap some princesses! Usurp some kingdoms! Make the peasants run before you! Plot, plan, steal. Humiliate each other! Prove that you, and you alone, are worthy! I don’t care how, but do not dare return until you have!”

 

They hesitated, but only for so long. A roar sent them scurrying out whichever hole they had crawled in through. Peace returned to his lair. With a snort, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

 

===

 

Aurelia leapt out of the cave and over the edge of the cliff. Her wings snapped open and she took to the air, free of the cloying darkness and in the orange, evening light once more. She breathed a deep sigh of relief. The gold, the glittering gold, of her father’s hoard was always intoxicating, but the darkness in there. It clawed at her, pressing down and suffocating her every breath. Far better to be here, outside, in the open air where the world was bright and full of life.

 

Her siblings followed her one by one, circling above the cave in  conference with each other. Loathe to be left out, she winged her way over just as Arnum was saying, “-ly going to be me, so the rest of you might as well give up.”

 

“You?” Spiriak scoffed, “Don’t make me laugh. You don’t have the brains to win against us all.” He smirked. “I do.”

 

Arnum scowled. “Bold words for someone within fire-breath distance.”

 

Spiriak paused, considered this, and quickly retreated a few yards.

 

“I think,” Chaarix said smugly, “That it will be a lot of fun to see the looks on your faces when I beat you all.”

Aurelia chuckled. She was used to this bickering. It almost felt nostalgic, having them all here in one place, cutting at each other with words. However, she knew from experience what to look for. Her eyes were on Chazmir, the last of her siblings, who through all this had hung back and watched. The others were dangerous, but she knew that he was twice so, when he put his mind to it. Yet for now, he remained silent.

 

The other three kept arguing, and, as fun as it was to watch Arnum’s face turn all shades of red and see the wide range of emotions Chaarix’s smirk could express, Aurelia decided to bring this ‘conference’ to an end. “Well aren’t you all so very confident?” She grinned at them all, showing off her sharp teeth. “So…are we doing this here and now? A five-way duel?” With an elegant flourish, she flexed her foreclaws. “Because if so, you know I’m ready.”

 

They hesitated, eyeing each other, taking stock of the situation. They all knew that in an one-on-one fight, Arnum could overpower any of them, if he could stand to have his precious scales sullied and scraped. However, even he knew not to try his luck against all four of his siblings at once. “The risk,” Spiriak said quietly, “Is too great for us to fight each other. If all of us to start fighting, there is no telling who will win. ”

 

“Yet if we split up,” Chaarix added, “Then what’s to prevent Arnum here from sneaking up on us and taking us down one by one?”

 

Chazmir finally spoke. “Didn’t you hear father? The object,” he said, “Is not to kill each other. We’re to humiliate, outdo, and out-dragon each other. Can anyone guess why?”

 

“To get us out of father’s horns so he can sleep in peace?” Aurelia snapped.

 

The others bristled, but Chazmir chuckled. His eyes bored unblinkingly into Aurelia’s. “Your tongue was always the quickest thing about you,” he said quietly. Aurelia cleared her throat, uncomfortable. “No,” he continued, “Because father made a name for himself terrorizing these lands. He kidnapped more nobles, stole more gold, burned more fortresses than any other dragon in history. And now, he’s dying. Yet he does not want the world to remember him like that. So he sends us, his children, to work in his name. Therefore, if we really want to please him, we must…compete. Not in some free-for-all, though it might involve fighting each other, but in deeds. Deeds done in his name, deeds that will make it so that his legacy is never forgotten.”

 

The others circled in silence. His words made sense of their father’s demands. A cruel smile spread across Arnum’s face. He eyed the others slyly. “Our brother speaks the truth,” he said, “I sensed it too, now that you mention it. Let’s split up, then. Go our separate ways. Carve our own paths of ruin and devastation. Only then can we prove ourselves.”

Aurelia looked around and saw that the others were all in agreement. An eagerness was in their faces and they looked around, eyes fixed on the horizon, already plotting their nefarious deeds. Aurelia felt a stirring of unease. ‘Paths of ruin and devastation’? What sense was there in that? Naturally, she was perfectly capable of terrorizing peasants and devouring herds of cattle, maybe even torching a castle or two. That came with the whole ‘being a dragon’ thing. However, why go to all that effort?

​

The answer echoed through her mind almost before she was done thinking. The gold. The hoard. The glittering pile of riches her father sat upon. That was the goal. Anything was worth that uncountable wealth. How could she have doubted for an instant? She set her eyes to the south and recalled tales of human kingdoms there, rich in gold and fat. Easy pickings, so long as her siblings didn’t head there first.

 

“Then what are we waiting for?” she asked, “Let’s get going.”

 

Her siblings needed no further encouragement. They beat their wings and scattered to the horizon, each heading their own way. Aurelia soared high into the air and made for the south, passing over the peaks surrounding her father’s lair. The wind was fresh, the sun warm, and the very air smelled of adventure. Her heart beat rapidly within her chest. What a beautiful land! When the hoard was hers, she would bring it out of that dusty cave and set it up high, a place where she could look out and see the way the brook cut into the land, the way trees grew in stately grandeur, the way the animals ruled their tiny estates, and all the wonders the world had to offer.

 

Yet she was too enraptured by her own thoughts to notice the shadow creeping up behind her. A force strong enough to shatter trees to struck her in the back. She roared in pain and surprise, wings faltering, and dove. From above, she heard Arnum chuckle.

 

“Ah, my foolish sister,” he bellowed from above. Her eyes roved wildly, trying to find him, yet he stayed behind her and out of her vision. “You all agreed so easily. I really thought it would be harder.”

 

“Arnum.” Her wings found their balance and her flight evened. “You followed me?”

 

“But of course,” he said with a degree smugness that only a dragon can muster, “I could hardly take on all of you at once, and I knew if it came to a brawl, you would unite against me before tearing each other apart. But if I could get you to separate, well, I could pick you off one by one. And here you are! Alone. And no match for me.”

 

She twisted her neck around and found him, smiling with such wicked glee. A gout of flame leapt from her mouth and sallied forth against him. With a laugh and flap of his wings, he beat it away. “Oh come now,” he crooned, “You can’t seriously hope to defeat me like that.”

 

She snarled. He had the altitude on her, not to mention strength, size, and reach. Still, being smaller was not always a disadvantage. Her eyes locked onto a narrow ravine and she dove for it. Her wings strained and her eyes watered, but she pressed on. If she could make it, he would have to come get her, and his size would put him at a severe disadvantage.

 

Closer and closer she flew, and her heart beat faster with each passing moment. She heard his great wings beating behind her as he pushed himself to catch her. She felt the sweltering heat of his flames lick at her scales, but to no avail. He could not stop her in time. She dove into the ravine, wingtips scraped the edge, and let out a triumphant cry.

His booming laugh echoed through the valley. “Clever, little sister!” he called, “But not clever enough!”

 

A gout of flame struck the ravine wall ahead of her, and half the cliffside came loose in a tumbling cascade. Without time to think, she acted on instinct and beat her wings in a desperate attempt to stop, but her speed was too great. She flew right into the middle of the landslide. Her world became a blur of falling dirt and rocks. Up became down and forward became back. It pinned her to the ravine floor, half-buried and stunned.

 

He landed on the remainder of the cliff above her, more wary than he needed to be, and peered down at her. Eyes swimming, she raised her head and bared her teeth at him. “Now, now.” His smug grin reached all the way across his face. “There’s no need for that. I’m not going to kill you.”

 

Her ears were ringing, but she was reasonably sure she had heard him correctly. “You’re not?” she said, “But the contest and father and all the—”

 

He examined his claws. “Let me clarify,” he said, “I won’t kill you if you shut up right now and let me talk without interruption for once.”

 

A number of retorts sprang to her mind, but none were clever enough to make them worth risking death. She bit her tongue and settled for glowering instead.

 

Arnum began to pace back and forth along the cliff’s edge. “See,” he said, “I can take any of you out easily, if I catch you by surprise. But, I am sure even you could have put up quite the fight, even though my victory would be assured. Four battles in a row would leave me scarred, weakened, and unable to defend father’s hoard from those who might want it. Other than us, of course. So…” He came to a half and beamed down at her. “You are going to help me take on the others.”

 

Aurelia chuckled bitterly. “And why would I want to help you?”

 

He shrugged. “Alone, you have no chance at father’s hoard. You cannot take either me or Spiriak on, and we’re only going to get stronger. However, if you help me, I could give you part of it. A small part, but a respectable amount. Father’s hoard is expansive, after all. Even a fraction is enough to impress most of our kind.” He chuckled in a very self-satisfied manner. “In short, you can help me and receive some reward or I can kill you and you’ll lose everything.”

 

She said nothing, but glared balefully at him.

 

His lips curled into a snarl. “Fine. I will give you some time to consider my offer.” He spread his wings. “I trust you can dig yourself out. Next time we meet, I will have your allegiance or I will have your life. Think carefully about which you want to give me.”

 

With a beat of his wings, he took off and left her to her own devices.

 

Aurelia let out a long breath. With a few grunts and a bit of effort, she wriggled free from the landslide. A few beats of her wings carried her out the ravine, just in time to see Arnum’s glittering form disappear over the nearest mountaintop. Bubbling, boiling rage surged within her, hotter than any dragonfire. A roar, which started in her chest and built and built until it tore free from her throat, echoed through the green valley. Work with Arnum? Ha! Never, especially not now. No, now more than ever, she was determined to see him defeated and claim the hoard for herself. She would not let him bully her into submission. Not now, not ever.

 

Still, he was stronger than her, so she would have to become even stronger. She set her face towards the setting sun and fixed her eyes on the horizon.

 

“Alright,” she said, “Come on, world, let’s see what you’ve got.”