“Song of Vashti” Long Anticipated Second Look: Chapter Two

Hey guys,

As promised here’s a second rough preview of a story I’ve been working on. This chapter two, so I’ll link chapter one here in case you need a refresher. It’s been over a month since launch. 

Disclaimer: this is a rough, unedited first look and does not fully represent the final product. Respectful feedback is welcome.

Chapter Two- The Father of Lies

   Voices echoed the halls of Vashti’s lair. The slumbering dragon rolled. Limestone dripped from the cavern ceiling. A bed of rubies and stolen treasure dressed her thatch bed like cash under a mattress.
Men snickered. “Shh, quiet. You’ll wake her.”
Vashti’s eyes glazed open, and she blew smoke.
“Adventurers,” she grumbled. “It’s three AM.” She turned atop her straw bed. “Worse than children,” she muttered.
Her ears raised, but she refused to get up. Vashti listened close.
“Right boys, remember the plan.”
“Yeah, we kill her and take the gold.”
Vashti smirked. They could certainly try. She kept a collection of swords as a hobby after chewing the bones of men.
“No, you moron! We sweet-talk her.”
The men cackled.
“Impossible,” one argued.
“Maybe for you. I just so happened to learn the lute.”
“So?”
“Hang back and watch, boys. I’ll get paid—and then some,” he said with a chuckle.

Vashti groaned. “Don’t they ever quit?”
He walked boldly into the center of Vashti’s cave and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
Vashti whipped her long serpentine tail and flared her wings. She rose to her feet, a behemoth of a dragon. The ground quaked under her might, and her claws scraped the brimstone floor as she stretched. Her blue reptilian eyes peeked on the feeble creature and snorted a disdainful puff of ash. He wasn’t even wearing armor. Why did they waste her time, she thought.
The tiny man removed his hat and gingerly swung a lute over his shoulder.
Vashti bared her teeth in a sneer. “Begging already? You haven’t drawn your sword yet.”
The minstrel bard piped. “Ah yes, have you seen a dragon? All I see is a princess before me.”
Vashti turned her head. Her sapphire eyes squinted harder. She’d admit; he confused her.
“Flattery will only postpone your demise, mortal,” she said, shaking her head.
“Good,” he said, rubbing her talons. “I could spend an eternity in your eyes.”
Vashti pulled her claw away, disgusted. “How dare you touch me, vermin? Do you know who I am?”
“Breathtaking, radiant, darling, majestic… I can go on.” He spoke confidently, even despite his shaking.
Vashti blinked, craning her neck. She failed to hide her blushing cheeks.
“Did you hit your head?”
“Did you?” He shot back. “Heaven’s a long way.”
“Silence!” The dragon roared. “I am Vashti, queen of the skies, you will show me some respect.”
“I can show you more than that, my princess.”

Vashti grew more frustrated. “Whatever you’re fishing for, it’s not gonna work. I can see you,” Vashti called to the men in hiding. “This treasure is mine.”
“Well,” the bard stepped closer. “I’m looking at mine,” he said whistling. “What a beauty.”
Despite herself, Vashti blushed a deeper shade of scarlet and raised her voice. “Now see here. What games are you playing?”
“No games. I came to offer my tribute. I have greater interest than gold or bounty, and flatly, I must say your reputation precedes you.”
“Speak plainly; my heart is not your toy,” she snapped, her voice booming across the cavern walls. “What could you possibly offer me? Curb your flattery, peasant.”
“Of course, heavens not. Not a toy unless you wish it, my princess.”
Vashti roared.
Half the minstrel’s men fled. The bard fell to his knees, covering his ears as the mighty rush of wind tossed his cloak. The sheer volume split the stones where he stood and he fell prostrate.
Panting, Vashti caught her breath and grinned at the slumped mortal beneath her. “That’s better. Speak. I grow weary. Do you have any idea what hour it is?
“A thousand pardons, Queen of skies. I will give you myself.” He rose to one knee and opened a ring.
Vashti studied him. The man couldn’t help but shake. He lifted up the case and Vashti erupted with laughter. She rolled in her pile of treasure, her tail swiping a stalactite. “Me—with you?”
The man stood up. His color left as the wind left his sails.”
Vashti wiped her eyes and looked at him.
“You’re serious?”

“I know it’s not much like the others in your pile, but it would mean the world to me.”
Vashti turned her back to him, stretching her impressive wings. “Turn around and go home. I have no need for humans.”
“I’ve trekked miles, days in the dark for you, my queen. You’d have me leave so easily?”
“Waking a woman this early is not exactly attractive, sorry. I am flattered, no, impressed. Such travel is no easy feat—Go with your life.”
Vashti stomped and curled in her nest. “Now let me sleep.”
The bard kicked a pebble, digging a hole. “But I love you.”
Vashti turned her head. Such a strange creature this man was. Her eyes scrutinized him for hints of deception. “Listen; I’m a dragon. A fire breathing force of nature, I take collecting swords of those sent to slay me as a hobby; I contain powers you cannot possibly fathom.”
“The more to grow on. Let me level with you, Vivi. May I call you Vivi?”
“No.”
The bard shrugged. “Fine. I care nothing for these men. Feed on them as you may.”
Two more men turned and ran. Another nocked an arrow before his companion stopped him. “Quiet, he’s planning something.”
“They’re here for prizes that spoil. I’m here for the center jewel,” the bard continued.
Vashti’s throat tightened. He knew how to reel her in. “Which is?”
The bard tuned his lute. “I look at your horde. You have wealth, esteem, power, which is something we both crave. Don’t you love being the best?”
Vashti smiled. “Go on.”

“You’re missing one thing, my queen. Something not stolen but made. Something never sold, nor earned. It is given freely. I’ll give you mine.”
Vashti’s brow furrowed. “Impossible. I lack nothing.”
“Forgive me, my queen. But aren’t you lonely here underground?”
Vashti played with her tail. Now she understood. She stole a glance at her tea set nestled at the far end of the cave. Stuffed pill-bears sat around the table as her company. “Perhaps. But I can do better than a human. What can you offer others cannot?”
“My love. I wrote you a song, my sweet. Listen and if you’re not convinced I should rule beside you, I will fall on my sword to spare your breath.”
Vashti leaned closer and her long, sweeping tail nudged him nearer. Her massive form circled him, so close the minstrel could feel the radiating heat from her breath. His throat tightened.
Debating, Vashti licked her lips. Her meal rested within nuzzling or charring distance—her choice. She would have some fun with this one first.
“Interesting,” she admitted. “You speak a silver tongue. How do I know you won’t turn against me?”
“I wrote you a song. Is that not enough proof?”
Vashti’s wings folded. This puny creature spun her a song. Perhaps she had misjudged him.
“Then sing.”

The bard plucked each string and took a deep breath and pulled his collar. “I’m a little nervous.”
The men around the pillar murmured, and Vashti shot a stream of fire.
“Leave us,” she commanded.
The men screamed, tripping over their own two feet and letting their swords clatter behind them, and Vashti snickered. More shiny trinkets for her nest.
The bard looked up at her and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” She snapped.
“Nothing, just never thought I would get this far with someone like you.”
Vashti’s temper softened. “Sing. Perhaps you’ll get further.”
The bard sung a note per string. Vashti’s heart burned with anticipation.
“Oh dear dragon, you are my passion. Would it be a stretch? That it’s you I’d catch—so fetching. Will you be my only? Will you please show me, Your eyes—the light of your glory. I want you more. Oh Vashti, you make my heart soar.”
The ravenous dragon pursed her lips. She shot to the form of an elf and the bard stepped back in surprise.
“I’ll give into your wish,” she said. “If you’ll continue to sing for me.”
He bowed and shoved the ring on her finger. “Yes, my love.”
Immediately, a light flashed and, as Vashti swayed, the minstrel caught her. Her face paled and cheeks flushed.
“You don’t look so good.”
Vashti felt lighter. “What happened?”
“Just butterflies, dearest. Come; don’t you say we make this true.”
His hands cupped her waist.
Vashti gave him a kittenish look and stroked his chin stubble. She batted her eyes, feigning coyness. “Show me how you treat a queen,” she whispered.

***

   Vashti awoke sore the next morning. The crystal ceiling mimicking daylight. She rolled in her elf form, finding her nest barren beside her. A sliver of her horde went with him.
She smirked. What a night. She wished he’d stayed. The slithering worm of a bard even took the ring.
Vashti stretched. She checked her reflection in the pool of water in the cavern.
Elves were pretty, but it was time to retire this spell. She snapped and blinked. A confused elf stared back at her. She snapped again. No change. No wings, nothing. What had he done to her? Smoke billowed from her nostrils. Blasted magic must have been on the fritz again.

She dug through her horde for the treasure she desired: an emerald pendant sealed with basilisk venom. With strangers coming so often, disguises proved useful like this, also it helped channel her reserves, regulating and healing the natural magic within her.
Vashti felt a dusting of power flow around her and—it stopped. Curse that man. Something was wrong. Did he do this? She wondered. How could he do this? He loved her… right?
Vashti punched a rock and her fist bruised. “Ouch!”
Not only had he stole her magic, but her strength.
She hoped he hadn’t gotten far and searched the edge of her cave. Rocks blocked the exit.
Vashti roared, but less ferociously than she hoped. More of a groan like an angry toddler.
“I’ll kill him.”

Vashti still felt funny as she gathered her stuff. Taking a pickaxe, she struck the rocks. The pendant shot dopamine through her veins and she swung with not even a quarter a dragon’s strength. Blow by blow, the rocks barely shattered.
Staring back at the wall, it would have taken a day to collapse this much. How did she not hear this? How long had she been out, she wondered.
Vashti shoved the thoughts away. There was no time. He stole her power and she would starve without an escape. As she dug, the bottom rocks tumbled, and she barely avoided being flattened.
She wiped her brow and took a breather. Relax Vashti, this is just a simple curse. It’s like the cockatrice-pox. We all get them, even those pesky Coatls molt from time to time. She took an examination with a truth mirror. “Anything out of the norm?” She asked.
“Yes.”
Vashti bit her nails. What was this feeling? Her knees shook and her heart beat rapidly. Fear? These were human feelings; these were beneath her. She shook the mirror to clear it. A sneaking suspicion grew, and it unnerved her. “Am I pregnant?”
The mirror faded and elegant cursive rose to the surface. “Please say no, please say no.”
Three letters floated to the surface. “Yes.”

Vashti stared, stunned. Pregnant. She’d been careful; it couldn’t be. But then again, the mirror never lied. She debated asking again, to be certain.
Fuming, Vashti paced the halls of her breakfast nook, too upset to search for scraps to eat.
She fussed aloud to her stuffed bear. “This is all your fault. Stupid feelings, loneliness. It’s not my fault I must flee every six month from bounties.”
The stuffed animal stared blankly at her.
“How did this happen? He loved me, didn’t he?” She remembered the sweetest human cuddling beside her. Shame washed over her. She was a dragon. This would never happen to her. And he’d loved her. She held to that promise, repeating it to herself. Wanting, needing it to be true. Someone had to.
Her eyes watered. How could she go on? She would be a laughingstock. Vashti, queen of skies, knocked up by a vagabond human from who knows where. What would her brood mother think? Vashti shuttered. She despised the thought. Most dragons only ever had one egg or a single clutch. She couldn’t bear to kill it.
Yet now no one would ever want her. She’d always be alone. Her egg would never be welcome. Not only would bounties hunt her, but her baby…
No. Vashti balled her fists. That string plucking snake had it coming. Perhaps he could help her. Maybe he didn’t know, but he would. He had to. Vashti blew sparks. One thing was for certain: He would man up or burn.