The young boy’s stride refused to break, even as thorns dug into the tender flesh of his legs. Beads of sweat ran down his back as if a storm had broken through overhead. In the distance, the light of torches creeped through the thick foliage of the forest.

  If the caretakers found him, there would be no second chance at escaping. The orphanage was a cruel place, one where ageing out seemed more of a dream than inevitability. Even if he managed to survive, leaving at eighteen years old would prove too late.

  His father’s death was still recent; all he needed was to reach the royal capital before a year passed. If he took too long, then his uncle would take the throne from him, alongside the treasures which came with it. The rules of succession were clear, an heir who was presumed dead had one year to present themselves to the court. Otherwise, the kingdom would go to the next in line.

  Luckily, he’d spent his childhood well. His father had hired experts from across the kingdom, teaching him everything he needed to know to survive. He would easily evade their attempts to track him, work on crafting some makeshift weaponry, and live off of the land until he arrived at the royal capital.

  Suddenly, his stride broke. As he ran into a small clearing, the boy found himself paralyzed by fear. In the dim moonlight lay a sleeping beast which no man should have the misfortune to encounter.

  It had thick layers of brown scales coating its exterior, each one thicker than a shield and more durable than steel. Two massive wings wrapped around its sides, the occasional twitch causing small gusts of wind which disturbed the still night. Whenever it exhaled, its lips parted for a moment, revealing the endless rows of sharpened fangs underneath.

  He had run into a dragon.

  It made so little sense that the boy was certain he had slipped, cracked his head open, and fallen unconscious. In his kingdom’s history, dragons were one of the few disasters they were fortunate enough to avoid. The nearest one should be entire kingdoms away, not resting in a random forest.

  “Are you real?” The boy asked aloud, slowly approaching the house-sized beast.

  When he was only an arms-length away, one of the dragon's eyelids slowly dragged open, revealing a dirt brown iris surrounded by a sickly yellow. The slitted pupil stared into his very core, freezing him in place once more.

  “Who are you?” Demanded the dragon, its voice heavy, demanding respect from all that heard it.

  The boy felt the entire collection of his organs stuck within his throat, before forcing them back with a thick swallow. If he was to be ruler, then this was the very moment he must prove himself. Perhaps, instead of walking to the capital, he could fly.

  “I am Ellias von Tuber the third!” The boy said, his voice wavering despite the confidence being forcefully injected within. “I am the heir to the crown o-”

  In one swift bite, the dragon ate the boy whole, only spending a moment to chew. As he swallowed his meal, he picked himself up from his resting spot, stretching his legs while shaking off the dirt. “Bit gamey, but not bad,” he muttered to himself while smacking his lips, before spreading his wings and taking flight.

  Burdenus Dredgestone flew through the air, his stomach turning from the kid he’d eaten earlier. It wasn’t good hygiene to eat people from the forest, since they always ended up being filthy and covered in insects. But it was hard to give up his midnight snacks, especially when they practically fed themselves to him.

  As the cool winter air ran across his scales he fought against the exhaustion beating at his chest. What he wouldn’t give to be curled up on a pile of gold and resting at this very moment. Unfortunately, his nights of glimmering sleep were now far past him.

  Mere hours ago, his parents had done the unthinkable. They’d kicked him out of their lair. Sure, he was the last of the litter to leave, but how could a thirty-year-old dragon make it in this world? The economy was in shambles! Probably! Regardless, he was still just a hatchling, no matter what his mother said.

  His journey so far had been miserable, having been forced to leave the entire region his parents occupied. While he originally thought about going to crash at one of his sibling’s lairs, he realized that he hadn’t kept touch with any of them, so he had no clue as to where any of them were.

  So, he picked a direction at random and flew. Burdenus wasn’t certain as to how long he’d been flying, his journey littered with breaks to rest, sleep, and nap. Alongside the occasional eating and drinking. He simply continued forward as the terrain underneath shifted.

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  It turned from endless desert wastes to sprawling forests, a place he’d only seen during trips with his parents as a hatchling. He continued forward, allowing the moonlight to guide his way, hoping to find a couch which he’d be able to crash upon.

  As hours continued to pass, the land beneath his wings continued to shift. The thick forest began to thin out like a balding man’s hair, until it was nothing more than bare plains. With the sun joining him on his flight, Burdenus had an easy time picking out the marks of lesser life down below.

  There were small villages propped up at seemingly random, surrounded by fields of crops. Alongside them were encampments filled with orcs preparing to attack those same human villages. It was charming to see the oddities of the creatures that were stuck on the ground.

  Finally, after a long flight which took nearly an entire day, Burdenus laid his eyes on something which appeared to be half-decent. Placed in the center of the plains was a small collection of mountains, protruding from the ground like a beacon calling out to him.

  Burdenus slowed the beating of his wings, a weak attempt to lessen the speed at which he crashed into the side of the mountain. He was a fairly decent flyer, but he was certainly not a good lander. After digging himself out of the dirt, he looked around his surroundings.

  While the mountains seemed massive in comparison to the plains around him, they were still nothing special. The summits were rocky and dirt covered, with only sparse clumps of vegetation growing on the surface. He’d landed near a small dirt ledge which jutted out from the side, leading to the open mouth of a cave.

  “I mean, it’s not the worst,” Burdenus grumbled to himself while looking around his surroundings.

  He walked into the cave, only to find it to be less of a cave and more of a room. It had enough space to hold him, but not much past that. Still, he was a dragon of little needs: he just demanded a massive hoard of gold, endless food and water, alongside the ability to do nothing he didn’t want to do. This place was likely big enough for that.

  Once he was inside, Burdenus walked in circles for a few moments, patting the ground beneath his feet. When he finally laid down, curling in on himself like a puppy, he noted that there was still a thick sense of discomfort. During his journey, he’d been plagued by insomnia, and it was only when he planned to rest for good that he realized what he was missing.

  Gold. He’d spent his life resting upon massive piles of gold, from coins to goblets to amulets. Gold was the best bed he’d ever known. The dirt and stone beneath his body was simply too soft for him to have any hope of a peaceful rest.

  Burdenus tapped a massive claw against his chin, “How did you get gold again?”

  He knew that his parents had taught him how. Well, they had attempted to teach him, but he hadn’t been paying much attention. It took him a few minutes of brainstorming before he pieced together how it was possible for his parents to return home with gold every time they left. They took it from others!

  “I don’t think orcs have gold,” Burdenus thought aloud. “I’m pretty sure they’re just really sweaty. Humans, though… I’m pretty sure they like shiny things.”

  With a lead found, Burdenus picked himself up, walking onto the perch of his cave as the rising sun shone down on him. He looked out at the near-endless plains, his every going over the countless settlements populating his surroundings. It took a few minutes of him attempting to find some criteria to go by before he decided to just attack the nearest one.

  Burdenus broke into a jog, taking three rapid steps before leaping off of the ledge. With his body plummeting, he quickly spread his wings, using them to slow his descent and allow him to leisurely glide towards the ground. The nearest village seemed to be nestled up against the mountain range, no more than a short flight away.

  As he flew down, Burdenus inspected the village, which was teeming with life. Dozens of small wooden buildings were placed together, packed tightly with only enough space for the microscopic creatures below to move between them. Surrounding the buildings were countless rows of farmland, massive fields of tilled dirt.

  Burdenus had rarely ever interacted with humans, save for eating the occasional brat. Still, he’d heard his parent's stories about their adventures. He’d even seen their interactions with the occasional intruders who attempted to steal from their hoard. How hard could it be?

  Burdenus looked around the village in search of a place to land, before realizing that there weren’t any clearings large enough to fit him. There seemed to be a small square in the middle of their village with stone tiles placed on the ground, but there appeared to be some sort of structure in the middle.

  There was only one of those structures, while there were dozens of wooden buildings. Burdenus decided that it would be safer to land on something they had multiple of, so he directed himself onto the massive wooden building next to the village square.

  As he extended his legs and prepared to perch, he found himself falling far faster than he expected. His thick legs crushed the thatched hay roof as he landed, causing his entire body to slip forward. Burdenus tumbled to the side, his tail knocking down a nearby wall and sending the building crashing down upon him.

  His upper half hit the stone tiled floor of the square, as his bottom half became buried in rubble. He opened his eyes to see villagers beginning to approach, with unreadable expressions on their faces. Soon enough, a crowd had formed around him. He contemplated playing dead and sneaking off once they were asleep, so as to avoid any further embarrassment.

  “Is that a dragon?” asked one commoner.

  “I thought dragons were supposed to be graceful!”

  “I thought they were supposed to look fierce, with vibrant scales. This one is just brown, like dirt.”

  One of the commoners, a human hatchling, walked up to him. “This can’t be a dragon, they aren’t supposed to be so fat.”

  Burdenus turned himself over, rising onto his four legs as the rubble was tossed to the side. With a mighty roar, he breathed out a stream of fire which covered the skies above the village. He looked down at them, furious and offended. “All of your gold. Now.”