The dragon curled around its treasure trove of gold, its tail lazily pulling stray coins back to the pile. However for once its gaze was not enraptured by the treasure but had turned with malice upon the lone intruder. A slender young woman with long black hair braided over her soldier. She wore no armor except for a small dagger. Which she placed on the floor her arms raised in surrender. The dragon snorted plumes of blue smoke, the crackle of lightning dancing in the plumes.
"Great dragon, I challenge you to a game of wit."
What an odd creature the dragon thought as it turned its gaze back to its treasure trove.
" I will reward with treasure the likes you've never seen." The woman said. The Dragon's head lifted, ruby red spikes along his jaw vibrating in excitement. It bent it's massive head close to the woman's face. One large yellow eye with pupils like a snake slowly blinked at her.
The woman trembled but didn't retreat. A pause stretch between them as the Dragon examined the slight women. The women blue eye gaze up at the dragons in wonder. The Dragon spoke its voice a deep rumble like an avalanche before the fall.
"And if You win, young one, what then?" The woman face broke into a grin, her eyes alight with excitement. She steeled herself before replying, "If I win, you will let me ride til the end of my days. However, my life my not end by you." The woman's hear hammer against her chest as the dragons response. His feral grin display deadly long white fangs. The Dragon snapped its head of high above the women, pondering the terms. The flickering fire caught his hoarse of gems causing them to flare beautifully bright. Surely a young woman couldn't beat the knowledge of a 100 year old dragon.
"Explain this game of wit." The dragon demanded.
"We ask each other three riddles. The one with the most prevails." She said.
"Fine woman I will play your game." The dragon rumbled.
"Sierra." The woman said, "my name is Sierra."
The dragon accented with nod of its large head. It's curved horns glinting in the firelight.
"You may call me Meleron." He said.
Sierra moved closer, sitting beside one of his large ivory claws. Meleron's Claws twitched, but he made no move to strike her. Instead, he lowered his head beside her, his voice shook the ground beneath as he spoke.
"Begin young one." Sierra grinned asking the first riddle in a quiet voice. The dragons gaze not enraptured by his trove but upon her. So began the game of wit between the dragon and the first dragon rider.
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Chronicles
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