• Published 11th Jul 2015
  • 665 Views, 9 Comments

The Things We Lose - Arreis Of Avalon



How old is the Red Dragon from Dragonshy?

  • ...
2
 9
 665

Greed Makes Them Grow

The smoke around me is hardly anything bothersome; truth be told, I had long since come to relish the darkness. I fly around it, taking one last glance back at the cave where I had sought slumber. My eyes make out the figure of 6 ponies. I focus on the yellow pegasus.

The dragon’s hearing is great, and mine is no exception. I make out the voices of each mare, and each is surprised by the yellow one’s way of handling… well… me. She timidly responds with modest tones, refusing to take credit for doing something which is her calling.

I scoff in disgust and swing my head around again, keeping my eyes forward.

I keep flying, thinking as I do. Flying takes very little effort on my part, leaving time to contemplate the nature of things. My mind tends to wander to resting caverns or hoards. Today, however, my mind wanders further still. It asks questions of me I had never truly considered.

Why did I listen to that pony?

The question plagues my mind more than I feel it rightfully should. I try to shake it free from my mind, but it refuses to be left unanswered. Why did I listen to her? Couldn’t I have just as simply eaten her? She was certainly petite enough to have been downed in a single bite. I could have eaten all of her friends, then and there, and gone back to my rather comfortable nap.

Instead, I had followed her instructions immediately, even going so far as to leave my hoard behind. My very hoard! Every jewel, every gem, likely to be harvested by some other dragon - or worse, that white seductress pony who sought my diamonds. I am left with nothing but fresh tears in my eyes as I think about it.

There’s another confusing thing - what were these tears? I had not cried in…

I couldn’t recall, suddenly. Thinking back, all I can remember are caverns and jewels and perhaps the company of a female or two. Tears had certainly never been part of the equation. What use have dragons of tears?

Dragons are a very simple race - simpler than anybody realizes - and very little is needed for their happiness. A hoard, a mate every so often, and a dark cave to rest in usually filled a dragon's way of life. Things that were not needed for happiness are shed as we grow, things like family and friends. Like emotions such as sorrow. Certainly, anger and greed were kept; those two emotions were vital to a dragon. But sorrow? Tears?

And yet I, a fully grown dragon, am reduced to mere shambles by one weak, timid mare. I scoff again at my own silliness, but it is hard to ignore the tears still streaming down my scales. Why have I been brought down to this level? How, I think, did this happen so easily?

I continue to fly, my tears never stopping. My thoughts confuse me. They dance in my mind and I cannot sort them. There are simply too many fleeting thoughts to keep track of. I shake my head and try to think about other things.

Jewels. Lovely, precious jewels. I lick my lips, already getting hungry at the thought of them. I will need to find more jewels and gems and prizes soon. I left all of them back with those ponies.

I wince in pain, groaning, my wing flaps faltering. Something is wrong. My heart - it hurts. My heart hurts terribly. I shake my head, flapping my wings faster to keep in the air. My heart hurts very badly now. More tears rise to my eyes. I curse them and look around. A dragon’s eyesight is as good as his hearing; I see a cave not far from my location. I quickly head for it, holding one claw over my chest. I groan in pain on the way there; my heart aches.

I land, quickly curling up in the cave. It is empty. Bare. My heart is thudding in my chest.

What on earth was this bizarre pain? I shift onto my back, my wings creating a bed for me. I cross my arms over my chest, taking deep breaths. This is all very peculiar. I have never felt like this - have I? I cannot recall.

I don’t dwell on it. I shut my eyes. Perhaps sleep will stop this peculiar pain? A brief nap, to recover from earlier. I am far away enough from any settlements that no other ponies will come to me and bother me. I take a deep breath, taking in the darkness. I drift to sleep.





I wake, slamming my claw down. My face is wet with tears. My eyes are wide. I am panting.

What was that…

A dream?

Or a memory?

I stand on all four claws, looking outside. Rain is falling, and I can hear thunder in the distance. I take deep breaths, blinking once or twice, eyes still wide. I gulp and begin pacing, thinking about the dream I just had.

A dragon, much smaller than me, laughing. I don’t remember what he was laughing about. Around him were other dragons. They had delicious looking phoenix eggs. They were all smiling. They had very few jewels.

The green dragon patted the small red dragon on the back, and they both smiled. Then, the dragons seemed to fade in static and rain and thunder, just like the storm outside. Suddenly, all the other dragons were gone. The red dragon was bigger. The green dragon was bigger still. There were a lot of jewels now. The green dragon had them. The red dragon wanted them. The two dragons fought.

The red dragon won.

The green dragon died.

That’s when I realized I was the red dragon.

That’s when I woke up.

What did that dream mean? Was it a memory? When had I been that young? I try to think, but my mind is on those beautiful jewels. Those all too beautiful jewels. My stomach growls - I am hungry. I should find more jewels soon.

No! No, I have to get to the bottom of this, before those dreams happen again. I don’t like those dreams. They make me feel strange - I shouldn’t feel this way. What is it - sadness? Sorrow?

Regret.

I wince in pain again, shutting my eyes tightly. I try terribly hard to think. When had it been? When had I been so young? It is a struggle; clearly, it had fled my memory years ago. Perhaps centuries. Dragons lived terribly long lives.

I try to think. It’s so hard to think. I try. I remember a green dragon. I remember fighting him for jewels. Those were tasty jewels. My stomach growls again. I growl back.

I think and think. Lightning strikes nearby, jolting me; I feel shocked. Surprised.

… Scared.

Am I afraid of lightning?

I retreat further in the cave. That is nonsense, I tell myself. I haven’t been scared of storms or lightning since I was just a little…

Hatchling…

My eyes widen as I finally realize the truth. Why I cried so much at the scolding I deserved. Why I had let that motherly mare teach me a lesson; why I had listened to her. Why I felt this aching now, this pain of loss.

I had been a child just days, weeks ago. I am a child still. I had found so many jewels. Jewels make dragons grow. Greed. Greed makes them grow. I grew so greedy, and became so greedy, I grew.

I weep as a child does at the loss of what I had known. At the loss of my childhood. I cry myself to sleep.

I do not dream. In the morning, I wake. I am hungry. I sniff the air. There are jewels to find.

The previous day is forgotten.

There are jewels to find.

Author's Note:

Written for DrakeFang from the promt given at this post. Please feel free to send me promt ideas!

Unedited.

Comments ( 9 )

Well, it's certainly more thought-provoking than anything else about that episode. I get the distinct impression this was a rush job, though, and it shows.

This is a very nice touch on the idea I gave you, Arreis. However, it's a little too... well, deep and sad. But great job, I loved it! ^w^

6192345 Just a bit of a rush job. I sort of finished it just last night, and the idea was quickly running away from me.

6192552 Eh, I tried. It was kinda late when I wrote this one, so it wasn't the greatest.

I still liked it. Rushed and a little ambiguous but also animalistic and the punchline climax certainly wasn't expected. Very thought provoking, though - kinda makes you wonder if the difference between an adult and a wyrmling (D&D term for lack of better words) isn't size and power but maturity in regards to greed and hunger, but also soundness in emotion. Maybe, as they grow in actual age, they grow in complexity and deepen in stability, creating that regal and almost stoic image commonly seen in dragons. That's why an actual adult can horde and not be swayed by it; it can gather jewels and not become possessed by them - as we see here with our little wyrmling.

In that light, the rushed pacea actually helped the plot to play on the whirlwind of a child's emotion, especially one who might not even understand what or why its emotions are literally attacking it. Deep! :pinkiegasp:

Overall, job well done (to no surprise)! :raritywink:

6196026 Thank you! ^^ I realize it was a bit rushed, and given more effort (and perhaps the sensibility to write when I'm fully awake) it could have been better. However, it's nice to see that the main idea of the piece got across to the readers.

I completely forgot this was a one chapter story, you could easily continue with this because of how you left off.

6580680 I'm not sure I will. I wrote this on a prompt and didn't really settle down into the idea. Even now, I'm a bit hazy on the details. I might just let this lie.

6580914 Yea thats fine. I wasn't really getting any Ideas on how the story would progress either.

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