The dragon's cave was large, dark and unwelcoming. Despite appearing to Ildarg's eyes nothing but naked rocks, he felt the presence of the large, terrible monster whenever, wherever he put his feet on. Any noise louder than a whisper could be his own end; trembling, he imagined the dragon's nose already sniffing him, ready to protect its hoard...
But he had no choice. This mission was his last hope. There, within the ocean that was the dragon's hoard, was an object. An object that contained inside itself the power to...
His foot hit a small stone, which rolled down to the dark, rocky path. Ildarg sweated coldly. He could not afford to let his thoughts flow. Praying that error wouldn't be fatal, he continued.
The corridor felt like it continued towards infinity. For the dragon, it had to be a quick walk, but for tinier creatures like Ildarg, its length was unbearable; more so if you were going straight to its lair as an intruder to steal from its hoard, which added an unbearable tension that made every moment last forever.
One more step, he thought, then one more step, and then again one more step. He had nothing else in my mind. He was almost forgetting why he was doing it. All that mattered was continuing...
Until a glimpse of a distant light, and the memories of his mission returned fully.
Ildarg stopped walking immediately. He closed his eyes, focusing on his hearing. They said one could easily figure out if a dragon was sleeping, because when it did so, it produced a snore that made Earth tremble. And he needed the dragon to be sleeping. He listened for a while, desperate to catch a rumble, or anything that could resemble a snore.
He managed to hear something. It took a while for a human ear to perceive, but afterwards, Ildarg couldn't hear anything else. It was low, and at the same time loud; it was like if the cave itself was rumbling.
A little more confident, Ildarg resumed walking slowly. The torch in his hand started becoming necessary; he turned it off and left it behind him, making sure the smoke wouldn't go to his same direction.
Finally, he entered into the light.
The dragon was immense.
There was no other way to describe it. It was utterly useless to find any fancy description, apart from its yellow color, or make any comparison to talk about its size: none of them could make justice to the creature he was now looking at. The dragon was immense, and there was nothing else he could say. Mostly because, he was incapable of focusing on words.
The dragon's head lay on one paw, its eyes closed. Puffs of air escaped from its jaws, while its belly, pressed against its own lair, extended and contracted itself in the act of breathing.
Ildarg couldn't help admiring the view. Even in the case that would be his last view, it was extraordinary. When hearing of dragons, there was always a part of him that felt a certain skepticism: there had to be a more down-to-earth explanation for those stories were dragons were involved. Something more within the human mindset's range. Instead, here in front of him was the definitive proof.
But he couldn't lose too much time. The dragon could wake up at any moment. Just as before, he walked on tiptoes, trying not to look at the monster, but at the terrain. Soon, he could distinguish the single elements of what made the huge treasure it guarded.
Books.
Hundreds, no, probably thousands of books scattered all around. From the small libels a children could read to the bulky, heavy encyclopedias, this dragon seemed to have found them all. If Ildarg put a foot there, he would probably be swept up by an avalanche of knowledge.
But where, he panicked quietly, was the book he needed?
He had trained himself a lot for this mission. Not only had he practiced to use a bow, even though it had such a laughable chance to hurt a dragon it was almost comical, but he had also learned to read; unfortunately, though, the circumstances had forced him to stop prematurely, and so he could only read in uppercase. And there were tones of books whose letters in the covers were lowercase.
Ildarg felt hopeless. There wasn't enough time. He had something like one in a lifetime's possibility to catch the right book, the one where was written the only thing that could make him do what he needed to.
One chance. He could only take one book, maybe two, and then escape like a thunder, before the dragon would realize something from his hoard was missing. He moved one hand towards the biggest book below his feet...
But there was something off.
The snore had stopped.
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Ildarg stopped moving. He was bowed down, his hand open in the act of grabbing the book. His back was beginning to hurt, but he didn't dare make a move.
Then he felt a rush of hot air upon him.
A deep voice came to his ears.
"What, do, we, have, here?"
Caught. He knew he could now move freely again, because in any case he was sure he would meet perish where he stood. He gave himself the luxury of looking at the dragon in terror.
"I...I..."
"Human," the dragon rumbled, its cavernous voice like a thunder on the horizon, "you have one chance to explain yourself, before I do with I must."
Now did Ildarg realized his preparation had neglected one important aspect, the one that could have actually saved him: how to keep calm. He had prepared himself some answers with some vague credibility to give it; now, in the face of certain death, he couldn't recall one. He blacked out; his lips refused to move, and his mind wouldn't be able to say what two and two was.
"Speak now, or you'll meet my jaws!"
"I...I...I need to save my love!"
The words had come out of his mouth without any intervention from his mind. Urged by the dragon's command, he had vomited out the naked truth. He closed his eyes, waiting for the dragon's next move, hoping he wouldn't be in pain for too long.
But instead, he heard something he didn't expect.
"What?" The dragon had just exclaimed.
"What?" Ildarg said in return.
"You don't smell like someone who's lying. Fear, plenty. But you don't smell like a liar. If anything, you're not a thief, so I may let you go unharmed."
Ildarg looked at the dragon in awe. It could smell emotions!
"I...am...not...lying..."
"I know, that's what I just said," the monster replied, with a glimpse of impatience in its voice. "Explain yourself. Who do you need to save? Who is 'my love'?"
"It's...it's...my daughter," Ildarg managed to say, "she's ill and the healer say she won't survive more than one month. They told me the only possible cure is within a book in your hoard."
The dragon looked at him with such intensity, he wondered if it could breathe fire from its eyes too.
"A cure?" It pronounced with intensity. "In my hoard? Of course. You're one of those."
"One of...what?"
"Human. I'm going to try to make you think for a moment. Maybe you're going to be the first one who manages to do it. Let me ask you this question. Why do you think I hoard all these books?"
"B...because they look good?"
"Because of the information they contain!" The dragon roared. "The information contained within these books is too much for a weak, greedy species like yours to obtain. I have seen it myself."
"What have you seen?"
"Enough things to vow my life to keep you humans from knowledge!" The monster's head abruptly got closer to Ildarg; the human, out of instinct, covered his head with his arms. "The most terrible weapons, my fellow dragon brothers falling from the sky like rain, whole seas drained, mountains eradicated! When humanity fell from grace, killed by its own technology, I swore that I would prevent you from knowing more than you deserve to!"
"But...but...but my daughter's dying!" Ildarg cried out.
"You think that one human death will make me break my oath?" The dragon said cruelly. "One moment of weakness, and you'd get more, and then more, and then it will be the death of this land once again."
"Please! I'll do anything!"
That seemed to catch the dragon's attention. It retreated its enormous head a little.
"What kind of anything?"
"Just anything," Ildarg said in a weak tone.
"Hmmm." The dragon seemed to be reflecting. The human had almost the temptation of grabbing one book and open it; however, fear blocked him from doing such a stupid action. Then he murmured: "What could I order this one to do this time?"
Ildarg figured out it wasn't the first time a human offered their services to the dragon to access those books. Its tail was moving sinuously, and its mouth made noises like chewing something. The human bit his tongue to avoid showing his discomfort hearing those sounds.
"Tell me, human," the dragon finally said, "can you make music?"
"Music?"
"Yes, music!"
"N-" He interrupted himself. Even though they had taught him since his childhood that saying the truth was always the road of the virtuous, that lying causes more troubles than the ones it avoids, something inside of him suggested it was not exactly true with dragons; at least, not in this situation.
"...a bit."
Then he remembered that dragon could smell lies.
"You can't," the dragon growled, "I should bite you instantly for lying to a dragon. But I want to have some fun, this last period has been so boring for me. So I'm going to assign you this musical task anyways!"
"W...what do I need to..."
"I want you," the dragon announced, solemnly, "to become my personal bard."