The Treasure

He’s been sitting here for a long time. He doesn’t know how long.

   He barely feels the coarse rocks shift under his heavy claws anymore. There was a time when they slipped and rolled under his claws, much lighter in weight, making him stumble. His cave home used to be fathomless. Now, if he cranes his head, he can see the dark patterns of soot burned into the rocky ceiling by fires breathed a long time ago.

When he was small, his claws unstable on the slippery, rocky ground, the ceiling unknown and unseen, was when the fear was most prominent. The empty echo. The all consuming darkness. Until he found light. The shifting of the rocks at his feet revealed a glimmer. A gold round rock that managed to catch what little light there was to be found in the cave. It brought him comfort. He carried it around in his jaws until he was tired and curled up around it when he went to sleep.

He soon found another piece. A rock unlike any other around his cave. Its faces shone, casting colored lights around it. It was soon added to his growing pile.

The pile grew. Golden coins clinked and slid together. Strands of pearls tangled and knotted. Loose gems sparkle amongst the stones. With deepening darkness came sleep, and with sleep, his body curled comfortably around his treasures. With passing age, his body and his pile grew. His body curled, uncurled, laid on top, and finally laid beside his still-growing pile of treasure.

It grew and he grew. His tail lengthened. Claws extended and grew razor sharp. Parted jaws could impart burning flames. He hunted for more than his meals.

Four-legged creatures for food. Two-legged creatures for treasures.

The two-legged creatures carried treasures with them. He never had to go far to find them. They often crossed his path. Not far from his cave lay an expanse of flattened land, dirt where no grass grew. A plane of land between the rolling grass hills among the jagged upheavals of earth. When he came across the two-legged creatures, more often than not the lash of his claws separated them from their treasures and the roar of his voice sent them away with little resistance. There were times they did resist. Pointed sticks both shiny and sharp were thrust at him. Their pricks meant nothing to the thick scales of his skin.

The shinier, glinting creatures with two legs often sought him out. Their shiny sticks hurt if they got too close. It was easier just to let the flames take care of them. The shiny parts that were left ended up tinged with soot, but they went into the pile just the same.

Golden coins flat and slim. Colorful gems that gave off sparks of light. Polished orbs bearing multicolored streaks, both loose and in ropes. Various shapes and sizes of shining objects.

One pile became two. Two piles became five. Five piles tumbled and merged into one. The pile became a hill. The hill became a mountain.

Much to his pleasure, it soon outgrew him.

When night fell, he could no longer curl around his treasure, nor sleep on top of it. He slept beside it and then in front of it.

His ventures outside his home became fewer and further between. The four-legged creatures kept him fed. More two-legged creatures ventured closer and closer to his cave. From some unknown recess during the day one would creep. Or in the middle of the night, under the cover of darkness. It would be the clink of his treasure, a voice of its own, that would awaken him. Flames or a roar boiling from his throat would dispatch the threat and his mountain that was once a pile grew.

Then one day, the sunlight woke him. Cold spikes through his eyelids without ceremony. He woke and realized that he was no longer in his cave. Rough rocks scratched at his back legs but his jaw was tickled by grass. He heaved his body around, a herculean effort in itself, and spotted his treasure tumbling out of the mouth of his cave. The morning was still early, the chill still in the air, he was going back to sleep. First, the grass tickled, then the rocks scrapped his belly as it dragged along the ground. He pushed his body through the mouth of his cave. His treasure pushed him out again. He blinked, his brain slow and stupid. He heaved his body forward, the glittering wall of his treasure pushed him back again. He snorted, frustrated jets of smoke erupted from his nose. The inviting darkness of his home was hidden by a wall of glittering, winking eyes. Eyes that stared at him, coldly impassive and no longer reassuring or comforting.

He opened his fanged mouth and roared his anger at being denied access. His claws lashed. His fire erupted. The glittering, shining wall that once eased his loneliness sat unmoved, unfazed by his temper. His jaws opened, and a sound worked forth. Not a roar, but a deep-throated mewling. His claws raked the ground at the mouth of his home. The glittering, shining wall of his treasure sat unmoved, unfazed by his temper.

He sat back on his haunches, the mountain of his treasure blocking the way into his home. His groggy brain moved slowly. There was no hunger in him, no desire to hunt. The light was increasing, hurting his eyes. But there was no cool recess of the cave to hide in. No comforting slide and clink of coin to curl around.

He heaved his titanic body around again, giving what was his treasure a decisive whip of his tail. His joints creaked at the effort as he stretched his limbs. First, the rocks scraped, then the grass tickled his belly as it dragged along the ground. He lifted his snout to the sky, tasting the air. Lazy clouds drifted across the blue expanse. His claws flexed, digging into the soft ground. Muscles that had long since gone unused protested his progress, but he made it just the same.

There was no destination in his mind. Only something that could be construed as mild curiosity. He didn’t know how long he had been sitting by the mouth of his cave. The gentle rolling hills still gently slopped, but new paths of earth cut through the green. He reached the crest and paused. He rolled his head around, surveying the landscape. Scents both familiar and unfamiliar assailed his senses.

As his head stretched, his neck and shoulders followed. An unfamiliar tickling sensation brushed his back. He turned his head with a grunt and spotted something flat laying on his back. As his sluggish brain tried to focus, the flat things moved as if in response. Muscles, previously unknown, moved, the flat things unfolded. Thin and sensitive they stretched from his back. The wind shifted and flat things expanded causing a pulling sensation. His back arched, his legs felt heavy. And for an instant, his claws nearly left the ground.

A grunt worked its way through his throat and he thudded back to the ground again. His head moved, his neck stretched, and his shoulders rocked side to side. He tensed his legs, thick with fat and muscle, under him. His tail curved ready. The flat things on his back unfolded. With a snort, he pushed the earthen hill away. The sensitive flat things caught the wind.

Even curled close to his body, his legs and arms were still like lead. His ample belly hit the earthen hill hard. There was a brief moment of pain that drove breath and smoke from his jaws, parted in pain. But the flat things moved, shifted, caught the wind again and the pain disappeared.

The earth disappeared under him as he rose in the sky.

He could see it below him. His treasure glinting in the light, filling what was once his cave. His body sunk towards the earth before he pushed it up again. The flat things on his back caught the wind. His head craned, eyes searching. His body, heavy and lethargic, reluctantly followed his lead.

Gold, bright and blinding, hung in front of him. He turned his head at an angle to it, so it wouldn’t cause his eyes pain.

From the air he could see the expanse of flattened land, darker and flatter now than it had been, stretching under him. It stretched further past what he could see, toward the horizon. In the distance, nearly past the limit of his sight, was something new. Hills the shape he’d never seen before. Dull in hue, giving off solemn glints of color. A foreign sound caught his ear. A low, even hum he’d never heard before. Another glimmer caught his attention. A four-legged creature ran below him; its color as unusual as its gait was unusually fast and even. It raced below him, seeming not to notice him, and it raced toward the strange uneven hills in the distance.

He wasn’t hungry so there was no need to hunt and feed. The light was too bright and warm to sleep. But his mind formed into one of curiosity. He pointed his body toward the new thing on the horizon, the flat things on his back shifted, and he flew.

Thoughts of his cave and his treasure drifted behind him, forgotten.