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Lady's Man

It had been many years since the fateful day that Morath had encountered the dragon. Looking back, he could barely remember the person he had been back then. Young and naive, just an ignorant farm boy who had a chance encounter that would change his life forever. A bumper crop and some luck at cards had allowed his father to pay a hedge knight to take him as a squire. War had drawn his new master to the mountains far to the east and it was there, far from his home, that he had met the beast.

Separated from his knight in battle, wounded and exhausted, fleeing from the enemy cavalry, he had sought refuge in the hills. Finding a cave, he had stumbled into it driven by fear, seeking only to live one more day. It was only after he collapsed to the floor, his energy spent, that he had seen the bones. The beast had returned before he could gather the will to flee, but just as he had been prepared to accept his fate, and finally give in to the stalking death that had been gnawing his heels since the battle began, the dragon had spoken. “A human, in my home? Truly this has been a day of firsts. My first defeat in battle, and now the first time a meal has willingly offered itself to me. Indeed, your timing could not be better, as I am in dire need of replenishment.”

Morath could see that the dragon, like him, was indeed sorely wounded. But he had little time to contemplate exploiting this potential weakness before the massive jaws snapped forward, and he was swallowed up. He had found the experience intensely frightening at first, but then he’d discovered himself floating in a dark, warm place. Small lights floated at the edge of his vision, and he once again heard the voice, muffled as if it came from a distance.

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“You have done me a kindness, and now I will do one for you in return. To repair my wounds and replenish my soul, an exchange must be made. I must take but I also must give. Therefore, since you were so kind as to offer your life to me, I will instead take your death. And in return I will give you..a song. Sing it when you desire the company of the finest ladies, and they will come to you. Now, the exchange is made, and our business is concluded. Farewell, human.”

When he’d awakened, he’d been on the hillside outside the cave, wounds healed. He’d felt refreshed, full of vitality and vigor. And he knew a song. He’d walked down the mountain singing, and the sound had drawn the enemy patrols. But it had also drawn the fine ladies the dragon had spoken of. From the air they had come, winged and armored in shining scales. They had danced in the sky, more beautiful in his eyes than any debutant in a ballroom of some fancy castle.

His enemies had been focused on him, not seeing the silent ballet in the sky, not seeing the fine ladies who had come to dance. So it was with murder in their hearts that they had approached him, and it was not until the fire came down and they had burned, screaming, that they finally understood the song their intended victim was still singing.

Now, years later, the memory of that first song came to him as he watched his ladies pirouette above the burning city. Men had tried to kill him or break him, but the dragon had taken his death, and so he could not die. Women had tried to seduce him, to control him, but he had no need of their charms. He had his ladies. He had the dance.

He stood overlooking the scene of death and destruction below him, as the screams began to harmonize with the song that came from his throat, and from his heart, and from his very soul. Morath sang, and his fine ladies danced, and the world burned.

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