The villagers suddenly found themselves overflowing with respect for the dragon, which likely had nothing to do with the threat of being burned alive. A few of them rushed off to collect all the gold in the village while the rest remained frozen, kept underneath the watchful eye of Burdenus.

  This was very unfortunate, as it meant that Burdenus was forced to remain composed and in a powerful stance. He wasn’t much of a lander, and he certainly wasn’t much of a fire breather. It’s not that he couldn’t, just that he wasn’t all too practiced in it. If given the choice between well done and raw, he’d prefer his meals to be alive.

  So, whenever he overexerted himself with fire breathing, he always needed a moment to catch his breath. A moment he wasn’t currently afforded. As minutes passed, his lungs continued to demand for him oxygen, while his ego demanded he stay stationary.

  Eventually, two of the peasants returned with a wheelbarrow carrying a sack. Burdenus watched as they brought it to his feet, placing it down before slowly taking a few steps back. With the crowd’s eyes upon him, he realized that it was his cue to do something.

  Burdenus took one of his claws to the bag, cutting it down the center, revealing the small pile of gold inside. There were mostly pieces of jewelry within it, rings and necklaces, supplemented by golden coins and the occasional golden chalice.

  Burdenus cleared his throat, causing ash to spill out of his nostrils. “Is this all?”

  “Yes, O’ mighty dragon, this is all we have to offer as tribute,” cried out one of the men in the crowd, who seemed to be more ugly than the others.

  “But… it is… so little,” Burdenus said, looking down at their offering.

  The bag was small enough that he could lift it between two claws. This meager amount wouldn’t so much as support an egg, let alone a somewhat-adult dragon. He’d hoped they would have offered him enough gold to sleep on at the very least, but this was practically nothing.

  “O’ mighty dragon,” said the ugly man, who was also old. Maybe. It was hard to tell apart humans, let alone any finer details. “We are but a humble farming village. That gold is what we have accumulated throughout our lives, there is nothing more to offer.”

  “Would the other villages have more gold?” asked Burdenus after thinking for a moment.

  “Yes, O’ mighty dragon, gold is one of the most valuable currencies in the land. Though we have little need for it, even we have done our best to collect it.”

  “Perfect. Then you all will go to the other villages and collect their gold for me, then come bring it to my lair,” Burdenus said with a proud grin.

  It was an ingenious solution, something even his parents couldn’t have thought of. Why do things the old fashioned way, going from village to village to take crumbs, when he could have the ants gather them for him. Then he’d be the one eating the gold sandwich. “Yeah, that metaphor makes sense,” Burdenus thought to himself.

  “I’m sorry, O’ mighty dragon, but we cannot do such a thing,” responded the ugly old man who was likely an imbecile. “We are but humble farmers, we have no means of reaching the furthest villages, let alone collecting their gold. Even if we told them it was you that ordered us to do so, they would simply take up their arms and repel us.”

  “Well, have you even tried? What if they’re more willing to comply than you believe?”

  The moronic, hideous, ancient, and slightly perverted old man pushed back once again. “I am certain of this, O’ mighty dragon. I cannot send my village to their death, and if someone must be punished for this decision, then allow it to be me. As the village leader, I bear the burden of our faults.”

  Burdenus realized that the village leader may have a point. Any village led by a drunken, perverted, decrepit and dim-witted man, with the appearance of a squash, would not have the intelligence needed for such a task. He grabbed his meager collection of gold and spread his wings.

  “Very well, but when I return, I expect even more gold.” He threatened, as his beating wings began to lift him off of the ground.

  Burdenus flew into the skies, carrying his ill-gotten gains with him back to his lair. This time, he flew directly inside the cave, causing him to stumble within before crashing against the stone wall. Once his footing was stable, he tore open the small burlap sack.

  The sound of gold colliding was like music to his ears, yet there was only enough to comprise a single note. Burdenus knew that he needed more, but the only way to earn a half-decent sum would be to fly out to every village in the plains. And, quite frankly, that would take all day, and who even has the time for all that?

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  He curled up within his cave, before resting his head against the meager pile. It was closer to a collection of thread than a proper pillow. Still, the gold was like a comforting salve against his scales, as Burdenus found himself easily falling to slumber. It was about time for him to earn some well undeserved rest.

  Burdenus’s eyes slowly creaked open, the dying rays of the setting sun granting a coppery shimmer to his brown scales. His body remained limp, enjoying the greatest pleasure of life: doing nothing. As he admired the view outside of his cave, a small pit began to form in his stomach.

  At first, he wondered if he had eaten some bad peasant earlier in the day, but he didn’t remember eating any of the people below. He began to pick himself up, his mind on searching for a good meal, before realizing what was wrong. His hoard had been stolen.

  The second he noticed it, his entire body shot up, tensing every muscle as if he needed to pounce at that very moment. Burdenus looked around his cave for far too long, considering the small space, only to realize there was no trace of his gold to be found. It was clear what had happened.

  “Those filthy humans!” Burdenus roared, the ground beneath his feet shaking at his rage.

  He wasn’t used to the rage which now filled his body, something made obvious as he threw himself outside of his cave. His first leap proved overzealous, as he tossed himself over the edge of his landing. As he tumbled, his face smashed into the side of the rock, imprinting his visage against it.

  Burdenus fell down the mountainside before eventually finding a moment to stop his violent descent. Despite the bruising on his ego, he took flight and continued steadfast in his goal of reaching the village below. Those thieves had dared to steal from him what he had stolen from them, an unforgivable crime!

  As he approached the village from overhead, the villagers below began to move in response. Many of them gathered near the town square, the site of his first arrival. Burdenus didn’t bother with a graceful landing, allowing himself to plummet onto the shattered remains of the building he originally destroyed.

  “Humans!” He roared after crash landing, half-buried in the rubble and dirt. “How dare you steal from me! I will burn your fields, burn your homes, burn your people! Honestly, I will just burn everything!”

  One of the humans that Burdenus recognized spoke out, the old man with a list of negative attributes so long that it would be a waste of time to list them all. “O’ mighty dragon, we have done no such thing! We have given you all of our gold without complaint, so please, do not terrorize us poor folk!”

  “Liars!” Burdenus roared as he pulled himself out of the ground. “When I awoke, there was no gold left in my lair! Who else but you filthy beasts could have taken it!?”

  “We don’t even know where your lair is!” Shouted one of the human hatchlings in the crowd, the one who had called Burdenus fat.

  “It is upon the highest point of the tallest mountain, where else would I live? The lowest point of the lowest mountain?”

  “O’ mighty dragon,” pleaded the old man who likely visited brothels, “Such a trek would take us three days, it simply is not possible for a human to reach there in one day’s worth of light. Perhaps, most understandably, you have been deceived by another individual. One who had left evidence so as to frame us!”

  Burdenus realized then that he didn’t have any proof that the villagefolk were guilty. Yet, the wise words of his older brother came into his mind at that very moment. “The absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.” Sure, he always said that before punishing Burdenus for something he didn’t do, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a true statement.

  “If you cannot prove that it wasn’t you, then I have no choice but to blame this village for the crime of theft! And the punishment for this crime is burning!”

  The humans murmured between themselves, all afraid to speak aloud and catch the ire of the dragon. While they knew it wasn’t possible for any of them to have done it, that clearly wouldn’t be enough proof. The villagers panicked, until one suddenly spoke out of turn.

  “It was goblins!” shouted the rude human hatchling from before.

  “Oh?” Burdenus replied. “And what is your proof?”

  A larger human placed her hand over the hatchling’s mouth, attempting to silence him. “Please, sir dragon, ignore him! My child does not know any better,”

  The human child broke free of his mother’s grasp, shouting out to the dragon. “Goblins live in the mountains, I’ve seen it! I can prove it, I promise!”

  Nearby villagers began to swarm the child, attempting to hold him back and silence him from speaking any further. “Stop,” Burdenus growled, causing the villagers to freeze underneath the monster’s gaze. “Let him speak, or else you all will burn.”

  It was obvious some of the older humans wanted to continue to silence the pup, but even the bravest weren’t brave enough to defy the orders of a dragon. “How can you prove that there are goblins in the mountains, and that they are the ones who stole from me?”

  “I, uh, I can’t,” stuttered the child, feeling the weight of a dragon’s glare, “B-but! If you take me to your lair, I can find proof. And if you look on the mountain, you can see them! I ran into them before with my frien-”

  “Let’s go,” Burdenus said, his voice demanding obedience. “If there aren’t any goblins, then I’ll eat you. If you’re innocent, then, uh, good job.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” complained the brat.

  Burdenus ignored the child’s whining, as he placed an oversized hand above him. His claws dug into the earth, tearing into the stone tile of the town square, scooping a handful of dirt alongside the peasant. Once he made certain his grip was secure, he spread his wings and took flight, leaving the villagers to their business.

  He arrived at his cave in a matter of minutes, letting go of the boy as he landed. The young brat tumbled to the ground, taking a while to recover and stand up. He was covered in bruises and scuffs from the ride, having been beaten against the stone and dirt picked up alongside him.

  “Hurry up and find proof of these goblins,” Burdenus threatened, “I’m feeling hungry.”