As the sun rose above the hills, the dragon began to wake. Its talons skittered across the hoard as it crawled towards the entrance and launched itself into the air, gemstones and gold cascading down in its wake. The knight watched it fly, still awed by the graceful movements.

It wasn’t a bad life. He enjoyed the peace, enjoyed not having to fight. He was glad the dragon had found him all those years ago. Still, even after five decades, he was waiting for it to realise its mistake; he was no treasure, just a scrap of old junk metal.

 

inspired by this drawing

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