Chapter 7
922 Words
I had never used a broom, but it did not take long to gain an understanding of the mechanics. I began at the back of the cavern, pushing dust and rocks forward out of the various small caves, around the piled treasure, and down the tunnel. Sweeping uncovered more treasures, and two other caves, the entrances hidden in the uneven walls. I swept them out as well, not entirely sure if sweeping achieved much. Dust and dirt surely were a normal part of caves, part of the nature of them.
“Return the broom to the kitchen and begin sorting the treasure. Gold into one cave, gemstones into the other,” he instructed calmly the moment I ended my task, without raising his unusual violet eyes from the book.
I regarded the impossible pile of treasure with dismay. It had taken a lot of labour to retrieve the items that had been scattered down the tunnel. To move this pile seemed an impossible task. It reminded me of the hearth stories of tasks princesses were set in order to retrieve from the Fae their stolen lovers. If it were a hearth story, I told myself, there would be three impossible tasks for the princess to surmount.
I began to sort the treasure and soon amassed two piles. Handling such wealth overwhelmed the mind, I thought. I stopped seeing the items beneath my fingers as precious, and instead viewed them much as I would if he had placed a pile of stone, seed or feathers, like from story, before me, and told me to sort them.
In story, however, the princess had magical aid with her impossible tasks. Birds to sort the feathers and seed, a wand to move the rock. I had no such assistance. The beautiful golden-haired man offered none, sitting in his throne and progressing slowly but steadily through his book.
What I needed was something to carry the treasure in, I decided, and retrieved the bucket I had used to clean the ashes, and the bowl I had washed the dishes in.
I sat near to where the golden-haired man lounged on the throne, thinking that it best to work within his eyesight so as not to be accused of stealing, and began to sort the treasure into the different containers. When the containers were full, I carried them laboriously into the caves hidden in the walls and emptied them within. They were very heavy, the gold one more so than the other, but both were considerably heavier than the dimensions of the buckets would imply.
Towards midday, the golden-haired man rose and went into the kitchen area. “Wash your hands and come eat,” he called out eventually. I went, with gratitude to be released from my task, and washed my hands before joining him in the kitchen. We ate boiled grains and vegetables.
“I did not expect a dragon’s cave would be like this,” I said to him as I waited for the food to cool to edible temperature and watched him eat, neatly and efficiently, without any indication of enjoyment or attention.
“What did you expect a dragon’s cave to be like?” He considered me with narrowed violet eyes.
“Well, a little like this,” I gestured to the main cavern. “The caves, the hoard. But, not these side caves, the library, the bed, this kitchen…”
“The dragon is preparing his cave for a wife,” the golden-haired man replied as if that explained it all. I tried to imagine what that meant, seeing as he said it so expectantly, but I could not imagine a wife and children that would result.
“You said the dragon wanted a brethren wife. Why not another dragon?”
“There are very few dragons left. There is no choice but to take mates from outside the species.”
“They can do that?” That sent another baffling array of imaged through my mind. How was that possible? A dragon was a dragon… Most of the brethren were more similar to mankind than to dragons. Maybe an ogre… but still, my mind recoiled from the thought.
He raised his eyebrows at me. “Have you never heard of halflings?”
“Well, yes, I guess,” I admitted. “But I can’t imagine what a half-dragon would be like.”
“A half dragon is just like a full dragon.”
“But…” There were many questions that arose from that statement. I had met halflings, and they were not as their parents. A half-Fae was almost indistinguishable from mankind. A half-ogre was not as big, nor as strong. A half-mermaid spent more time on land, than her mer-parent.
The golden-haired man, however, was obviously far better acquainted with dragons than I, so it would not do to argue with him, and he had an air of impatience with the subject, therefore I didn’t want to test his tolerances. “What sort of brethren would a dragon consider as a mate?” I asked instead.
“There are a number of compatible species,” he replied. He had finished his meal but remained seated. “It is most likely that a wife will be found amongst the Fae or Elves, however. They are closest to dragons in form and manner, and there are many more of them than most other brethren.” He stood suddenly upon concluding the sentence, and returned to the main cavern, ending the conversation.
- Writer
