Zephyr and the Dragon
Zephyr was having a great day. How could he not be? The sun was shining, its golden rays illuminating his outstretched wings as he glided across the equally majestic forest below him. It was the middle of fall, and today was one of those days you get where it seems, perhaps if only for a day or two, that summer is returning. A pleasant breeze flowed in from the west, and Zephyr was content to let it carry him eastwards in its gentle flow. The mosaic of reds, oranges, and yellows below him was stunningly beautiful, and brought with it a sense of joy so rarely seen in these times. Oh, the wonders of flight. Zephyr truly felt bad for the earth ponies and unicorns, who would never be privileged to feel the freedom and majesty of-
-CRASH-
Although, were they capable of flight, Zephyr was sure they would crash into things at high speeds far less often.
Shaking his head to clear his vision, Zephyr decided that it might be for the best if he went for a while on hoof. The beauty of the forest was very distracting, and Zephyr was easily distracted. Smiling, Zephyr descended to the the forest floor. Although the view from the ground did not share the same stunning, jewel like quality, it was still wonderfully pleasing to observe. As he walked, Zephyr began to hum. It was no tune in particular, but it was pleasant and fun, and the day was brighter for it.
Some time later, Zephyr found himself in a clearing. The sun had since passed its apex, and was now making its journey westward to set to his side. This seemed perfectly natural to Zephyr, as north had always been his direction of choice. What did not seem natural was the mountain, rising up in front of him. To his knowledge, which, to be fair, was often wrong, he had not covered nearly enough distance to reach the mountains, and certainly not the northern mountains. When starting his journey, Zephyr had been sure that the mountains were a two hour flight east, or sixteen by hoof. But he had not flown for more than an hour and a half, and had been walking for less than four.
This was all very confusing to Zephyr.
One thing was certain: as confusing as it may be, the mountain was there. Another breeze passed over Zephyr, a warm but pressing wind, seeming to urge the pegasus onward. Zephyr felt calm, but full of a barley contained desire to explore, to know, to do. He was familiar with this feeling, for he had felt it before, many times. The explorer called it drive, the scientist called it hunch, the warrior called it initiative. Whatever it may be, it was his, and he would use it.
With this new energy bubbling through his veins, Zephyr extended his wings and took flight, streaking towards the mysterious mountain. It was not long before he touched down on its surface, and had a look around.
The mountain did not seem like anything particularly special, a bare rock face with a few small shrubs clinging to the sides. It was not astoundingly tall, nor surprisingly short; there were no weird scars or great, strange rock formations; it was not strangely smooth or exceedingly course. All in all, it appeared to be a perfectly ordinary mountain, save for one thing: a large cave, situated almost exactly half way down the mountain's side. Being the only object of interest, Zephyr decided that the best course of action would be to enter the cave, and see if there was an adventure to be had.
Alighting on its edge, Zephyr gazed deep into the dark chasm, gleaning little from its depths. No light shone down to its bottom, no metal glittered, no sound emanated from the cave, no hints were present as to what it contained. The entrance hung there, six meters above Zephyr's head, dark and foreboding.
Zephyr paused for a second, then entered. After having traveled for no more then thirty seconds, the cave drew too dark for sight to be of much use. Feeling his way along the wall, Zephyr negotiated the sharp and chaotic turns, hooves echoing lightly on the stone. After he had been going on for a while, the paths became easier to follow, and Zephyr began to enjoy himself. He was always fond of exploration; discovering new things gave him great joy.
Zephyr presently found himself in a large, open cavern, with two exits. The walls were glowing slightly in the blue-gray light being emitted by clusters of crystals, scattered around the rock face. His interest perked, Zephyr wasted no time in examining the crystals. He thought their glow was quite beautiful, and decided to take some. After prying against them for some time with little success, Zephyr sat down, temporarily defeated. It seemed as if getting the crystals was not to be, as Zephyr knew that he would have to think in order to get them, and thinking would take him far to long. The crystals were not that important. Somewhat disappointed, Zephyr tried prying them loose one last time, then turned his attention to the fork in his path.
The paths were largely indistinguishable, and Zephyr paused for a moment, considering which branch to take. The one to his left displayed a greater number of crystals, though not significantly, and the one to his right was wider, though only marginally. Neither seemed to have obvious advantages over the other.
Zephyr had not spent ten seconds thinking before he heard a distant rumble coming from deep within the right branch. Naturally, this caused Zephyr to loose his train of thought; Zephyr had a hard time keeping one under the best of circumstances. Confused, Zephyr stood still, mind wandering, trying to grasp his situation. After a few seconds, he refocused, snapping on to the memory of the rumble. Deciding that the presence of noise greatly increased his chances of an interesting encounter, Zephyr immediately turned to the right and continued his journey.
After a while, the cave began to taper off, slowly shrinking in size. Ever so often, Zephyr would hear the rumble again, each time louder than the last. After about ten minutes, the caves size stabilized, though the paths it took became increasingly more chaotic. Zephyr was enjoying this adventure greatly. The cool cave air was very calming, and the crystals were dazzling. Absent mindedly, Zephyr began to hum.
Suddenly, without warning, and all at once, Zephyr's ears were assaulted with a cacophony of disharmonious tones, and his eyes registered a substantial increase in light, this time of a orange hue. He halted his progress, standing still whilst the event, whatever it was, concluded. After a few seconds had passed, Zephyr perceived a sharp increase in temperature, causing him to inhale quickly. The dry, hot air tickled his throat, making Zephyr cough loudly.
The noise came again, even louder this time. Zephyr recognized it as the rumble he had been following, and felt a surge of adrenalin course through his body, clearing his head. This is what he had come here for. Knowing that, whatever it was, it surely knew of his approach, Zephyr wasted no time in accelerating through the cave and into the large room beyond.
It took Zephyr's eyes a couple of seconds to adjust to the increase of light. A great many fires burned in the cavern, which was lined with precious metals and gems. The ceiling of the cavern stretched fifteen meters above his head, the far wall almost eighty meters distant. And sitting in the middle of the room, was a great dragon.
Its scales glittered gold, and they shown gleaming in the light of the fire. Its great wings were folded against its side, a rich dark velvet color. Its claws glistened, each one longer than Zephyr was tall. It lowered its head towards Zephyr, extending its neck. It drew up close to him, its eyes each easily bigger than he was. It opened its maw; Zephyr could have performed an aerial roll in the cavernous space. Its breath came out, warm and sticky, almost knocking Zephyr off of his hooves.
It closed its mouth. Zephyr shook, unsure of what to do. This was by far the largest dragon he had ever seen, and he had none of his weaponry with him. Given his experience with dragons, he had about two seconds until it turned him into ash.
Quickly darting to the left, Zephyr took off and flew on top of the dragon. Landing on its back, Zephyr looked around wildly for any sign of a way out of the cavern. From what he see, the only such exit appeared to be the way he had entered.
That could not possibly be right.
Zephyr scanned the cavern again, but with the same result. It seemed that the tiny entrance he had come through was the only way in and out of the cavern. Zephyr might not have been the most intelligent pony, but even he knew that there was no way a dragon of this size could fit through an opening that small. He was missing something.
The dragon's body roiled as it attempted to stand up. Zephyr dived off of the dragon's side, avoiding being crushed as it pressed itself against the roof of the cavern. It turned slowly to face him, the grating of stone echoing loudly through the chamber, shrapnel showering Zephyr lightly. He tried to maneuver himself out of its line of sight, but the great dragon's body was far to large. It filled the cavern, giving him not nearly enough space to move. Zephyr steeled himself to perform a dodge when the fire came.
But when the dragon had pivoted itself so that it could see its guest, it only moaned softly and laid its head down, looking tiredly at the tiny pegasus.
Zephyr looked into its eyes, staring deep into his. He felt a shudder pass down his spine. It seemed so, so very tired. The dragon moaned again, a deep moan which built up from its base and shook Zephyr to the core.
Zephyr did not really understand what was happening. He kept his eyes on it, waiting for it to make a move. It was toying with him. Perhaps it was hurt, or maybe nopony had come to it recently. Dragons liked to play with their prey, and Zephyr was not about to let this dragon, as large as it may be, get the best of him. He trotted side to side, maintaining eye contact with it at all times.
After about fifteen seconds, it moved. The dragon extended its neck, lifting its head towards Zephyr. He rolled out of the way, barely escaping the dragon's strike. Or, he would have, had the dragon desired to strike. It was instead paused some two meters above his previous location, its head slowly turning to look at him.
Zephyr wasted no time, flying quickly through the opening which the dragon had opened by its movement. He was now on the other side of the beast, nearly twice as close to the exit than he had been. If he could keep this up, he might just escape.
The dragon turned slowly, its great claws tearing through its great piles of gold, its back scraping against the roof. Again, it locked eyes with Zephyr. This time, it did not draw close. It roared, letting out a jet of flame into the ceiling, before turning back down and staring at the pegasus. It did not move, except to let out another soft moan.
Something clicked. Something finally clicked.
Still cautious, still unsure, still wary of the possibility of deceit, Zephyr approached the dragon. It looked at him, slowly lowering itself to his level. After thirty seconds of slow, slow approach, Zephyr was within only a few centimeters of its muzzle.
Zephyr put his hoof on it.
It moaned again, much lower and more pitiful than before. Zephyr panned around the cave one last time. There were no ways in or out for a dragon of its size. At the rate dragons grow, there had not been for hundreds of years at least.
It blinked at him slowly, just looking at its pony companion, unmoving. Zephyr sat down. He was unsure how to proceed. There was very little he could do, one way or the other. He had not the tools nor the time to figure out how to solve this problem.
So he sat there, listing to the great dragon simply breath in and out. It opened its mouth, licking Zephyr lightly. He shivered, but it was very gentle and warm. It began to hum deep in its chest. The sound was melodic, pitching up and down slowly as Zephyr stroked its nose. Every fiber of his being told Zephyr to be scared, but he slowly found himself unable to maintain that fear, fading slowly away as he sat there under its old gaze.
He sang to it, one of the old songs of flight he knew. Though he was sure it could not understand him, it still fluttered its wings from time to time. It hummed lightly, showing Zephyr to its greatest, most precious treasures. Two hours passed. Then three. Zephyr began to become tired. He could not stay here much longer. He still had a return journey to make. Yet, he felt as if leaving would be a great injustice. There had to be something, anything, that he could do.
Out of the corner of his eye, Zephyr spotted a steel sword, sticking out from top of one of the great treasure piles. He hesitated, then went towards it. There was only one thing he knew well how to do in regards to dragons. He might as well offer.
The dragon watched him go, saw him pick up the blade. It watched him draw near it, watched him level the sword slowly at it, its eyes filled with fear. It did nothing to stop him. It closed its eyes briefly, shuddering with relief. It lifted its neck slightly.
It was over in three seconds. Very quick, very little pain. Zephyr knew how to kill dragons quickly. If you could not, they had a habit of staying alive long enough to kill you too.
Zephyr left the cavern, trotting up through the cave to the surface. He had gone looking for adventure, and he had found it. It was not what he had expected, but, after all, that is why he went out in the first place, to find new things, to experience the world. He had slain the dragon, discovered the treasure, and escaped unscathed. His saddle bag was filled with enough gold an gems to live off of for a year or two. He even managed to win himself a keen steel blade, a fine weapon of great quality. All in all, a perfect end to a perfect day.
So, why, then, was he crying?