Golden Drake Chronicles

Aurel Andraste. Progenitor of the Noble House. Mortal turned into a small folk legend in places Ivras had never heard of. But only at the end.

At the beginning, Aurel was as much a puppet as the rest of the king’s court, and hardly minded it. They wore a useless title and danced to King Magnorin’s whims, watching every upstart fall like flowers before the king’s hand. Beheaded, plucked, screaming, silent, never seen, never in public, no, the king was generous. Only Aurel was told the truth, but not out of trust. It was just a game the king played, to whisper terrible things in Aurel’s ear, to pet their red hair, and see their smile never falter even while that cruel hand felt the skin prickle behind their neck in fear.

If that was the price of safety, Aurel paid it. What they feared more than those terrible false confessions was the moment they’d cease to be amusing.

~

Scales slowly grew on Aurel’s arms, shining like gold coins. The king admired them. And like coins, plucked them for his treasury, once petting Aurel’s fiery hair had lost its charm.

Aurel looked for methods of revenge when they couldn’t scream, and found it when two lovers arrived to play the game for them and overthrow the king. Aurel hid in plain sight, betrayed both sides with blameless guile, was pawned and betrothed and lied to, and in the short span of a year, they watched as their kingdom burned once the monster of a king was slain.

There was chaos in the ashes as all the rules Aurel had grown so good at adhering to were now gone. Was it wrong to find themselves mourning the king amidst the ugly new court? Gone were glittering games of the past, and Aurel hardly fit amidst men who ardently wanted to make things better.

 Aurel tried. But every eye condemned them for a tyrant’s snake, and hostility grew no matter what they did. They’d had a hand in the king’s death, no matter how indirect, and that was never forgotten.

It was safer to flee from good men than from a monster. Aurel held onto that irony as they crossed the mountains and found a place that had never heard of the name Andraste.

~

Scales continued down Aurel’s arms, and their fingers soon ended in golden claws well suited to prying those scales to pay for the many hands Aurel needed. They wanted a place grand enough to replace all they had lost, and they poured themself into the construction of their new home.

It was easy to forget the passing of time as the foundations grew, and as the scales crept up Aurel’s arms. Decades passed and Aurel felt none of it, ever-young. They would make this place grand, beautiful, secure, safe. All strings of the valley were pulled for their ends, all men manipulated, organized and paid for until Aurel realized the title they’d earned by creating prosperity. They were fondly known as the dragon of the valley, protecting them all from the fires Aurel had lived through, and that reputation felt like a shield of its own.

So they grew their hoard and played at earning loyalty through means that rang false under their skin, ill-suited for them. Distracted with the burden of responsibility, they failed to realize the small coup d'état from under their nose.

Three of Aurel’s lovers had grown fond of them all at once, for reasons utterly beyond Aurel. Hand in hand they came with a banner of a golden dragon to christen the finished castle, wrapped Aurel in it, and wed them in it. Thus they became the dragon’s brides, and the halls were filled with their family.

~

By the time Aurel’s grandchildren had brides of their own, the golden lord was tired. All they wanted to do was sleep, and when they gave in, months passed. When a full year had disappeared in the blink of an eye and the scales had crept up to their throat, they asked for a place of rest beside their departed wives. A bed was made for them in the little family crypt below the Andraste House that now ruled the valley, and they descended gratefully, knowing they’d done enough.

They could rest, now that their safety had been secured.

~

Or so they thought.

They had no concept of themself as they rose to the sound of screams and the scent of smoke from up above. No concept of time, or self, as wings spread from their back as natural as breathing, and they clawed their way up to the surface to see who dared to threaten the home they’d paid for in blood and gold.

Aurel thought nothing of their maw that split open in a feral roar at the sight of an actual monster terrorizing their valley. They barely considered the claws that raked across the beast’s face, the tail that whipped them to the snow, or the serpentine gaze that landed on one bold man who begged them to stay their hand and spare the monster’s life.

What thrill it was to actually be dangerous, for once, to be the monster rather than the thing hiding behind one. Why would a dragon show any mercy to what destroyed their hoard? It was only that the question came from his own blood that they obeyed, and left the monster for his kin to bind in heavy chains.

But with their home set ablaze once more, there was no peace to hold onto. Again Aurel left, this time taking to the sky and putting all troublesome humanity behind them.

~

They’d forgotten their name when it was their turn to be slain.

All else had fallen away over the decades other than their simplest needs. Hunger (with teeth that craved nothing less than mortal men), shelter (a cave adorned with the treasure of the fallen), and long, oft-interrupted sleep (where they dreamed sweet dreams of the valley, and everything they’d lost).

Corruption was never a concept they’d known, but its teeth were embedded in them further with every meal they dragged kicking and screaming into their den.

They may have forgotten the life they used to have, their children’s names, their own, but they remembered the two lovers who rode up the hill to kill them. Oh, how they remembered.

Aurel was the first to strike, ambushing the two men and scaring away their noble steeds. The three enemies joined in battle, fierce and long into the day. Hatred fueled Aurel toward the end, and they met death eagerly if it meant they could take one of the lovers down with them, dragged down to the sea to drown together. It was all too fitting to claim the one Aurel had been falsely betrothed to all those centuries ago! And all too sweet to hear the screams of grief from the man who’d ruined their life.

When Aurel’s eyes finally closed under the tide, they were finally unafraid.