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Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
More Precious Than Silver Or Gold
The chill damp of the sea beat against her cold wings as Dragon rose up into the air on a rare thermal, leaving the grey hammering of the sea behind as she climbed into drier atmosphere and turned her path northward. The harvest had been slim so far, a mere clawful of gold coins and a few trinkets. She would have turned back for her comfortable and mostly dry cave, if not for the driving desire of her kind. A burning in her chest drove her higher and further north than she had ever gone before, seeking riches far beyond anything she had known.
She would possess them, or die.
After days of silent gliding above the featureless coast, her wait was over. A small coastal town spread out below, with an empty harbor and tidy craftspony’s houses spreading up the slope around a larger guild hall, much like hundreds of these little towns scattered up and down the coast wherever ponies could find a place to graze and trees with which to make their houses. Dragon furled her wings and dropped through the inky night to make a low pass over town, both to check for armed ponies who might oppose her and to take a deep breath of the air and luxuriate in the scent of silver and gold such a place would posses.
No cries of panic rose in Dragon’s wake as she swooped back up into the sky, which was good.
Hardly any scent of gold or silver wafted over the town, which was bad.
She swept back down to land next to a large stone complex under construction high above the town. Formed of pink granite blocks, its high walls and strong roof were only partially complete, except for a smaller building near one end.
The absence of gold in the town bothered Dragon. Gold in pony hooves made more gold, and even more, until a town became ripe for harvest and Dragon could scoop it up. But not all of it. Leaving a town without enough gold to provide seed meant the next trip through in several decades would find only empty streets and abandoned houses.
After trying and failing to see through the colorful glass windows of the building, Dragon lifted up on her hind legs to grip the roof. The sounds of commotion could be heard inside, giving her little time to bend open a corner of the roof and reach in with one claw to grab whatever trinket was so important to be housed in this fashion.
The empty room looked for all purposes like a chapel of some sort, with a small wooden box at the near end containing the valuable item it protected. Dragon flipped back the cloth covering on it with one claw, just in case the object was dangerous, only to freeze in place afterwards.
It was a little pony. An infant with a soft coat the color of a sunrise slept quietly on her back with one tiny pink hoof reaching for the missing blanket. Dragon had never seen such beauty before, from the faint hints of darkness touching the tips of her wings to the tiny little stub of a horn protruding from her disheveled mane. It could have been hours later when the tiny pony yawned once and stirred with a faint shiver to her coat, which shook Dragon out of her entrancement long enough to move the blanket back over the foal and tuck it in with the tip of one claw. The foal smacked her lips as she was covered and rolled over to embrace Dragon’s sharp talon. She nuzzled it once, then blessed it with a kiss before wriggling back underneath her blanket and returning to slumber.
Dragon did not remember prying the roof closed with as much delicacy as she could manage, or curling up on the grassy patch of ground afterwards. She remained sitting in stunned amazement, looking at the talon which had been kissed by the tiny foal.
The pastel shades of dawn spread over the coastal city, with the rising of the Dawn Chorus and the stirrings of the Abbey of Song. Robed and veiled acolytes moved silently within the walled compound, except for the Mother Superior. She was kneeling alongside a large pile of coins which glistened in the morning sunlight, raising her own voice to the heavens in praise of the golden blessing which had been bestowed upon the abbey and their precious charge.
She would possess them, or die.
After days of silent gliding above the featureless coast, her wait was over. A small coastal town spread out below, with an empty harbor and tidy craftspony’s houses spreading up the slope around a larger guild hall, much like hundreds of these little towns scattered up and down the coast wherever ponies could find a place to graze and trees with which to make their houses. Dragon furled her wings and dropped through the inky night to make a low pass over town, both to check for armed ponies who might oppose her and to take a deep breath of the air and luxuriate in the scent of silver and gold such a place would posses.
No cries of panic rose in Dragon’s wake as she swooped back up into the sky, which was good.
Hardly any scent of gold or silver wafted over the town, which was bad.
She swept back down to land next to a large stone complex under construction high above the town. Formed of pink granite blocks, its high walls and strong roof were only partially complete, except for a smaller building near one end.
The absence of gold in the town bothered Dragon. Gold in pony hooves made more gold, and even more, until a town became ripe for harvest and Dragon could scoop it up. But not all of it. Leaving a town without enough gold to provide seed meant the next trip through in several decades would find only empty streets and abandoned houses.
After trying and failing to see through the colorful glass windows of the building, Dragon lifted up on her hind legs to grip the roof. The sounds of commotion could be heard inside, giving her little time to bend open a corner of the roof and reach in with one claw to grab whatever trinket was so important to be housed in this fashion.
The empty room looked for all purposes like a chapel of some sort, with a small wooden box at the near end containing the valuable item it protected. Dragon flipped back the cloth covering on it with one claw, just in case the object was dangerous, only to freeze in place afterwards.
It was a little pony. An infant with a soft coat the color of a sunrise slept quietly on her back with one tiny pink hoof reaching for the missing blanket. Dragon had never seen such beauty before, from the faint hints of darkness touching the tips of her wings to the tiny little stub of a horn protruding from her disheveled mane. It could have been hours later when the tiny pony yawned once and stirred with a faint shiver to her coat, which shook Dragon out of her entrancement long enough to move the blanket back over the foal and tuck it in with the tip of one claw. The foal smacked her lips as she was covered and rolled over to embrace Dragon’s sharp talon. She nuzzled it once, then blessed it with a kiss before wriggling back underneath her blanket and returning to slumber.
Dragon did not remember prying the roof closed with as much delicacy as she could manage, or curling up on the grassy patch of ground afterwards. She remained sitting in stunned amazement, looking at the talon which had been kissed by the tiny foal.
The pastel shades of dawn spread over the coastal city, with the rising of the Dawn Chorus and the stirrings of the Abbey of Song. Robed and veiled acolytes moved silently within the walled compound, except for the Mother Superior. She was kneeling alongside a large pile of coins which glistened in the morning sunlight, raising her own voice to the heavens in praise of the golden blessing which had been bestowed upon the abbey and their precious charge.