I had cried more in those few days than I had in the months leading up to them. I had connected with someone, but how the hell would I find him again? And even if I did, the others had confirmed my fear. I was a monster. Guy had only given me a chance because he had nothing to lose. Either I ate him, or he’d bleed out any minute, anyway. But what about people who weren’t completely powerless? Would everyone react the way his companions had? What was I supposed to do about that?
I slunk off into the cave, deep enough that a bit of sunlight would reach it in the morning, and tried to sleep. In a way I was worse off than I had been before. The same thoughts kept roiling in my head. I had met someone, and I’d been chased off. What if that was the only chance I got? Everyone had reacted the same way to me, even Guy at first. Fear, immediate and violent. If he hadn’t been literally broken and dying I have no doubt that he would have tried to kill me, too. But he’d seen that I didn’t mean any harm. He’d understood that I wasn’t a monster. I just needed a chance, just a goddamned chance!
The disappointment and frustration were exhausting, and finally, too tired to even feel anymore, I slept. I woke up on the stone floor of the cave with my tail curled over my snout, wings half spread to form a canopy above me. It was surprisingly cosy. The sun was peeking in and disturbing my rest, so I angled a wing to shade myself. That was a thing I could do now. The wings were simply a fifth and sixth limb, and using them came completely naturally, no different from making complex movements with my arms or legs. Or perhaps a hand was a better comparison; the wings were bat-like and bat wings were really just long, flappy hands. Either way the movements needed for flight were extremely precise, and I performed them without thinking, no matter what else I was doing at the time.
I wanted to cry a little, but I wouldn’t let myself. It might make me feel better, but it wouldn’t help. I needed to figure things out. I was still a little hungry, but this time I had something to eat! And possibly to drink, but wine seemed like a particularly terrible idea when I relied on flight to get myself out of the cave. The bottles would probably be a problem, anyway.
There was only a little cheese and dried meat left, so I ate those. I looked sceptically at the bread, then ate that as well, hoping that it wouldn’t make me sick. Then I got to the bottom of the bag, and found the little box.
I had almost forgotten it, but the instant I saw it I was filled with desire to get it open. There was something wonderful inside. I could literally smell it, and the box rattled mutedly when I shook it. I tried prying it open with my claws, but that didn’t work. Then I tried my teeth, but long and sharp as they were they couldn’t break the hard wood of the box and I didn’t want to risk breaking a tooth in a place where the nearest dentist was a reality away. I settled on using a rock. Tools were, after all, what separated man from beast, and I needed to feel a little bit human. I put the box on the ground and found a loose, heavy stone. Then, like a raging ape, I smashed the box until it cracked open.
There was gold inside. Nine gold coins, glimmering in the morning sun. On one side was a woman’s head in profile and some weird letters. On the other side was the stylised head of a dragon, which felt very right.
They were the most beautiful things I had ever seen. I would never let anyone take them from me. I would defend them with my life.
I picked up the coins and rolled them from hand to hand. They clinked, and I giggled at the sound. I was so caught up in it that I nearly didn’t hear the voice that spoke softly right in my ear. My old voice. My real voice, but speaking in a way I never had, full of lazy satisfaction and power. I screamed in surprise and whirled around, but there was nothing there.
“Your hoard has grown,” my voice purred. “A minor threshold has been reached.”
“What?” I exclaimed into the empty cave. “Hello? Who’s there?”
“How will you increase your power?” the voice demanded, and I instinctively knew that I had to make a choice, here and now and irrevocable.
“Strength, to overwhelm your enemies. Fortitude, to shrug off harm. Physical Greatness, to increase the power of your body in all ways, at a cost. Stealth, to strike unseen. Tongues of men, to understand and manipulate those beneath you. Choose.” The voice sounded impatient now. Okay, that was more like me, but I was still freaking out. Hearing disembodied voices is not a good thing, but I’d been through a lot. I hadn’t snapped, had I?
“Please,” I said into the emptiness. “Show yourself. If someone’s here, just come out!”
“Strength! Fortitude! Greatness! Stealth! Tongues! Choose now!”
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The voice was out of patience. It was angry now, and a pain like the worst headache I’d ever imagined shot through me. It was like a hammer of liquid fire had smashed into the base of my skull, beating me down to the floor, writhing and groaning.
“Choose!” the voice roared.
“Tongues!” I gasped. It was the only real choice. I didn’t need to be stronger. I didn’t want to die, but if the alternative was to be alone forever… well. If it happened, it might be a relief. I scolded myself for thinking so. That’s a destructive idea, I told myself. You’re in a bad place right now. Let that one go. Physical greatness? I knew instinctively that this meant size. I was not happy with the size I was now, but being bigger came with a cost. I’d need more food, and it would be harder to get into some places or hide when I needed to. That was out of the question for now. Besides that, my wings seemed too small to carry my body as it was. What if I got even bigger?
Stealth was enticing. I’d rather avoid conflict than have to fight or flee. But Tongues? It would let me understand and speak all human languages. I didn’t understand how, but I knew that it would. If I had been able to speak to the people who came for Guy the day before, maybe things would have gone differently. Maybe not, but being able to communicate would have surely made a world of difference.
As soon as I made my choice the pain vanished. I was on the floor, the dust turning to mud where I’d smeared drool on the dirty stone. I didn’t bother questioning what had happened. It was neither the worst nor the strangest thing that had happened to me in this hallucination, or altered reality, or whatever it was. I had to accept it, and try to use it to my advantage.
I wanted to get up, and felt that I had my hands closed, clasped tightly to my chest. Protecting my treasure. My hoard. I looked at the gold coins in my hand, richly yellow with a fiery tint to them. I wasn’t sure if they were pure gold, but they were beautiful, felt wonderful in my hands, and smelled like nothing else. I was overcome with an urge to protect them, to hide them away where no one could stumble upon them and take them from me. The cave was a good start. It was high up, and hard for any creature to reach that wasn’t a bird or a particularly ambitious mountain goat. Still, I couldn’t leave them near the entrance. They needed to be safe.
I looked around and found the box. The lid was cracked and the hinges broken, but it would do. I gently placed the coins inside and closed the lid. That took a lot of willpower, since I didn’t want to stop looking at the coins. I didn’t want to stop touching them. But I knew that I would have to leave the cave, and so I powered through. I knew just where to hide the box, too. I descended, past the light and the fresh air, to the depths from where I had come. The slime on the walls still shone, but it took a while before my eyes adapted to the faint light and I could continue. Soon I reached the crevice. This wasn’t even halfway to the deepest explored part of the cave system, but the crevice and the cave beyond were mine. I squeezed through, which was easier than last time now that I knew that I could splay my wings out to the sides, and reached the ledge inside. There, around the corner from the crevice, I placed my treasure. I couldn’t see it in the darkness, but I could smell it, and I knew that it was there. I knew that if I opened the box it might be hours before I got out, so I stroked the cracked lid one last time and then returned to the entrance.
It felt like leaving a loved one, not sure if I’d ever see them again.
I had never been materialistic. I earned enough money as an instructor at my gym to make a living. I lived in a tiny apartment, mostly full of old and second hand stuff, which I shared with my best friend, Andrea. I paid my bills, got groceries, and put a little bit away each month for emergencies. Everything else got spent on stuff for climbing, taking care of my bike, and enjoying life. Most of my accessories were cheap shit that I wouldn’t be sad about if I lost them, though I did have a nice set of silver and sapphire earrings with a matching necklace that I loved because my nan gave them to me for my graduation. Money came, and money went. That was how I had always lived my life.
Now I had a small box of less than a dozen small gold coins, and I wanted more. I knew that it was crazy, and I didn’t care. The pleasure that I got from touching those little bits of beautiful, yellow metal, from seeing them, smelling them, having them, there was nothing that could compare to it. It was better than ice cream, better than a hot bath after a long, cold day, better than cuddling in the afterglow of good sex. It was plain better, better than anything, and I wanted more.
I looked out across the forest. There were people out there. People with swords and spears, but gold and other treasures as well. If I could find them, and if I played my cards right, then those treasures could be mine. I didn’t particularly want to steal from anyone, but I’d figure something out. I had a bad habit of calling myself dumb, but that was rashness more than anything. I wasn’t dumb, dumb. I was smart, and strong, and now I could talk to people. And I knew what I was. I’d known deep down ever since the first time I stepped into the light, but when I’d seen the image stamped into the gold coins I had begun to truly accept it. There was no point in denying it any longer. Why should I? I was glorious.
Dragon. I let the word simmer for a while as I stepped out into the full sunlight. Transparent, nictitating membranes slid into place over my eyes, cutting the glare and protecting them from the wind.
“Dragon,” I said to the world, letting the word roll off my tongue. There were dozens, maybe hundreds of words for what I was in all the languages spoken, but I liked the English one best.
“I am dragon! Hear me roar!” The open sky swallowed my words and I leapt forward, caught the air with my wings, and soared.