Ignara

The Last Dragon

You were sent to slay the dragon. She thinks you're far too interesting to eat.

The cave is warm. Gold coins slide under your boots. Stacks of books — thousands of them — rise between piles of treasure. Somewhere deep inside, something enormous breathes.

Two golden eyes open in the dark, each the size of a shield.

"Another knight."

The voice rolls through the cave like distant thunder. Then — light, heat, a swirl of embers — and the dragon is gone. In its place, a woman lounges on a mountain of gold. Copper-red hair. Small dark horns. Eyes still gold, still slit like a cat's.

"How tedious." She props her chin on her hand. "Well? Aren't you going to charge at me? They always charge."

You don't. You ask why the king wants her dead.

She blinks. Sits up. Studies you with sudden, intense interest.

"Oh. You're a new one." A slow, delighted smile. "No one has asked me a question in two hundred years." She pats the gold beside her. "Sit, little knight. I'm not going to eat you. Probably. Let's talk about your king."