A Tale of Two Riches

“Who’s there?” 

I hear the soft jingling of my precious coins cascade down my mounds of treasure. While my hoard calls to greedy humans, it also warns me when someone is attempting to take it for their own.

“My name is Edna Aevness, the fiery red dragon of the mountain.” I try my best to put on my ‘all powerful dragon voice’, after all my name is Edna, but I worry my ‘all powerful dragon voice’ is lacking as of late. It has been so long since I have had an uninvited guest. “Leave now while you can, you frail and vile creature. You stand no chance against my dragon’s fire.”

Do I remember how to use my dragon’s fire? I blanch, embarrassment blushes across my scaly cheeks. I breathe out a puff of air and a tiny smoke ring rises within the cavern. Relief blooms across my chest. There is still some smoldering soot left in my belly, even though I feel no heat.

Whether the miserable soul found my cave from bad luck or from years of planning, it does not matter. I have no intention of barbecuing the poor human that has come upon my liar, but I am not about to divulge those secrets. For surely, if I speak truth and confess that they will come to no harm, they will be back with more greedy folk, pitchforks and torches in hand, and I will have to then barbecue a multitude of intruders. 

I peer around one of my piles of treasure to lay eyes on this greedy creature, but I see nothing. My eyes dart to the mouth of the cave, to the corners of the cavern, but I do not find what has rustled my gold. My dragon brow furrows. I know I heard the distinct clinking of coins. No creature of earth, other than a human, would dare to enter. There is some foul creature here with me. I let out a snort through my snout. The air billows out and shifts the gold on the floor. As the jewels and gems settle down, silence once again graces my ears. 

But then I hear it. 

A giggle. Not a chortle, not a cackle. No hooting or howling. Just a giggle. And it is coming directly below me.

I peer down, and there she is. A filthy creature with curls matted against her head, uncombed and unkempt. The youngster toddles about my hills of wealth with her thumb in her mouth. Such a curious thing, this little being, to have found my hidden hoard.

How did she get here? Where is her tribe? Carefully, so as not to loosen the heap of riches and have the wee one fall or be buried, I gather a glance out of my cave. I see nothing, I hear nothing, I smell no one. 

My attention snaps back as she steps on my foot, grabbing my toes and tickling my scales. I sniff at her hair and recoil. I smell the little bugs that have settled into the base of her hair, the little blood drops that have collected at the base of her neck during their feasts. So many creatures in the world, and all eating each other. 

Since I absolutely cannot eat such a filthy critter, I nudge her gently to the mouth of my cave. And that dirty little organism does the strangest thing. She kisses my nose and leaves.

I lay back into my hills of precious metals, but sleep does not find me. I have the strongest desire to follow the little one, but to what end? A sour expression overtakes my face. 

I am a dragon. I am a successful dragon who has hoarded and plundered for hundreds of years so that I can now rest, surrounded by my well-earned treasures. That’s what dragons do. That’s what dragons are. 

But my mind drifts to the little one. She had no fear of me. How can that be so? And I sent her out with the wolves and the bears and she will have no fear of them either. They will gobble her up. 

I feel compelled to do something. My heart stirs, warmed by the child. I can leap from this cave and go to her rescue… but then I will have to leave my treasures. Doubt rises within me. What if it is a trap? What if when I leave they overtake my cave and then I have nothing?

I pick up a jewel encrusted mirror which is so small, and I so big, that it only reflects the pupil of my eye. 

Her existence is but a blink in time. Dragons do not worry about such trifle things. We are dark demons of the earth.

I drop the mirror and plunge my giant dragon hand into the hills of coin, lifting it high, and then let the gold sift between my fingers. The musical sound as it falls to the other treasures below do not bring me the joy it once had. 

I love and loathe my riches at the same time. I do not want this treasure but cannot part with it either, for what then would I be? A dragon without it’s hoard is nothing. And so I remain in the place I hate, with the things I no longer want, because I do not know what else to do.

Years pass and I am still haunted by the human child who surely died that night. Grief consumes me. I sleep more than I am awake. I no longer eat other than a bite of vegetation before settling back down to slumber. I am no longer a mighty beast but now a shadow of my former magnificent self.

“It is you….” A whisper so soft one might think it an illusion strung upon the winds. I open one dragon eye to find a human at the mouth of my cave. But I am so tired, too tired, to lift my weary head. Gold clinks together under the feet of the earthling as she approaches. Surely she and her folk have come to slay the mighty beast and claim my massive hoard. I close my eyes, embracing my fate.

I wait for an arrow to my eye.

I wait for a blade to my soft underbelly scales. 

I wait for… a gentle brushing of my snout?

My eyes flutter open and I see her. A grown human with unkempt and unruly curls. I take a deep breath in as familiarity greets me. I lift my head slightly, and she stumbles backward. 

Her hands go quickly outward. “Shhh… I wish you no harm great dragon.”

“Who are you.” My question comes out as an accusation, thundering against the cavern walls. I do not mean to sound so harsh but even in my weakened state my voice booms from within me. I cannot help it. After all, I am a dragon.

“I dreamt of you great dragon, ever since I was a child,” I hear her voice quiver in fear. “I dreamt that I came to this cave, but you did not burn me with your fire, nor did you eat me with those sharp teeth. You simply nudged me away.”

She gathers her courage and takes a few steps towards me so that she can again stroke my scales. “I have searched and searched for you. I have explored and climbed all the mountains that surround my home.” She pauses, tilts her head to the side. A warm smile spreads across her lips. “And now, here you are.”

I want to trust her words. I want her to stay, to keep speaking with me. I want to believe I can be more than a lonely dragon, but suspicion darkens my heart. 

“You came to take my riches.” I feel my belly grow hot with every word I speak. I raise my head and body, causing the coins to slip out from under the woman’s feet. She falls on her backside and covers her head with her arms. 

“No!” She pleads. “You mistake my intentions! I do not have need for riches such as these. I am a simple sheep farmer.” I pause to consider her words but my belly remains hot. My throat screams at me, begging me to let out a fiery breath. 

“Then why come here simple sheep farmer,” my voice drips with doubt and disdain. “If not for riches, then for what?”

“…. a friend.” Her voice is meek, her face downtrodden and hidden in the shadows. The words strike out at me, take me off guard.

“A friend? Surely you have your own folk for that.” 

She looks back up at me and a single tear falls, leaving a stain down her dirty cheeks. “My husband and my two children died from plague. I am outcasted by the town for my bad luck. I have no one.” 

I do not reply and her shoulders slump forward in defeat. She steps back towards the cave’s entrance. “I do not want any of your treasures. Please let me go and I promise I shall not return.”

If she leaves she may tell others about where a weak dragon’s hoard resides and once again be in the town’s good graces. They will come and plunder my gold with their pitchforks and torches. My belly once again grows hot. She must be able to feel the heat emanating off of me because her eyes widen with fear. She runs from the mouth of the cave and down the mountain without looking back. 

I sit amongst my treasure in my cave that I call home and gaze at the rolling hills of gold and precious gemstones. My heart deflates, my desire wanes. I wanted… no, I needed all of these things, or so I told myself. But I no longer yearn for these useless riches, I do not wish for a single coin.

For the first time in centuries, I glide out of my cave in the cover of darkness. I stretch my wings and sniff the fresh autumn air, searching for the human who had the courage to come to me with nothing more than the desire of friendship. 

My hoard is behind me, calling to me. But as I fly on, I feel the tether between me and the gold weakening. The moon glistens on my scales and my muscles stretch with their new found freedom. My eyes find a pasture filled with sleeping sheep, so I land near the fence. The appearance of a dragon have woken the poor animals and bleating cries fill the night air.

A humble home is but a short distance to my left. The windows are lit, someone is home. Doubt is encroaching on my heart, demanding that I fly away. What if this is not the sheep farmer’s home? And if it is, why would a creature woman want to befriend a dragon like me, if not for my hidden hoard? I curse myself for coming empty handed. I should have brought some of my treasure to show my regret of my former hostilities. I turn, raising my wings to take flight, when I hear the door creak open. 

I look back and see the woman. My shadow is cast across her doorway from the moon in the night sky, but I can still see the lines of worry and fright etched upon her face. Her eyes skirt to her sheep. Awkwardness itches up my spine and I worry if I do not speak now, that I will never gather the courage to do so again.

“My name is Edna Aevness, the fiery red dragon of the mountain.” My booming voice once again make the sheep scatter to the far side of the field. I lower my giant head, eyes closed, in an attempt to show I mean no threat.

A moment passes. I expect her to slam her door, scream for help, or run to her sheep, but she does none of these things. My heart flutters as she slowly walks out to me. I lay my head on the ground and she gently brushes the scales of my snout. “Hello Edna Aevness, fiery red dragon of the mountain.” She bows in respect. “I am Agnes, the simple sheep farmer and I am honored to meet you my friend.”

I do not know what has happened to my hidden hoard up in the mountain. I never went back to gaze upon it and Agnes, true to her word, never returned to retrieve it. I now sleep in her fields, protect her sheep, and cherish our friendship. I have never felt so free.

But I do want to end with a word of caution to anyone who may decide to seek for that mountainous treasure I abandoned. I urge you to enjoy the riches that you already have. The riches that can neither be measured nor weighed. Riches that can neither be bartered nor traded. What riches you ask? Oh my dear friend - I worry you have not been truly listening to my tale at all.