Golden shod hooves clapped against the rocky path, its rough travel betraying its lack of visitors. The pair atop the horse were equally finely-adorned, their dark robes sewn with beads and gemstones that glistened in the sun's rays. Despite their finery and garb, neither one looked happy as they rode on, with the man at the reins sweaty and strained and the youth seated behind him staring impassively at the scenery passing by.
At last the path leveled out, revealing the mouth of a cave, thick with shadows the rays of the setting sun failed to pierce. The pair dismounted and made their way towards its entrance, the young prince trailing after his sire without a word. They paused outside the opening, the boy brushing up against the back of his father's robes as he stared into the darkness within. The elder man fidgeted nervously before turning towards his son.
"A-alright. This is your Aunt Sharsine," he said, his voice tinged with nervousness. "You'll, uh, be safe here."
"Seriously? You're sending me to hide in a cave?" the youth asked incredulously, sliding a half-eaten apple tart from his pocket. "You are such a failure of a king."
"No worries, son. I can fix this." His father flashed a grin to conceal his nerves, running a palm along the pommel of his blade. "I'll send word of my victory. It will only take me a week or so to arrange for my forces to recover from the mess I left in Alcatham. Two months at the most. But you'll have to stay here while I'm gone."
The prince rolled his eyes, turning his gaze to the shadows within. "Wonderful. I'm sure I'll have a raucous old time sleeping on rocks and eating bugs while I wait."
The perspiring king stammered anxiously, glancing between his son and the cave. "Ah, yes. I'm sure… ah… I'll leave you to it then." He turned to walk back up the path to where his waiting horse was patiently standing. "Goodbye then, son."
His heir watched him go until he was nothing but a shadow, silently finishing his snack, before making his way into the dark cave. Once inside he quickly gave his surroundings a thorough scan, squinting in the dim light filtering through from the entrance. The cave floor was littered with stones, pebbles, and small bits of ore, making an unpleasant crunching sound as he walked. There was another noise too, faint, like someone breathing, though that could just be his imagination playing tricks on him.
Distracted and half-blinded by the dark, he tripped over something in the darkness, stumbling forward and catching himself against the stone wall beside him, barely avoiding smashing his face against it. A grunt of frustration escaped his lips, the sound bouncing off the damp walls in front of him, lost in the echoing depths. Deeply annoyed, he began cursing loudly and inventively, spraying gravel every which way as he flailed about in a tantrum.
"Thrice-cursed slab of scenery!" he yelled. "When I take the throne, I'll have you drowned in magefire!"
"Not very nice of you, little 'nephew'." A deep, soft voice spoke from behind, causing the youth to whirl around. What he found caused his ire to vanish abruptly, leaving only abject terror in its place.
Looming above him, perfectly illuminated by the shards of sunlight shining through the mouth of the cave, was a massive, scaled head. Two great horns framed the dragon's muzzle, their points protruding outwards like curved swords. Emerald eyes gazed down on him, seemingly unperturbed by the insults he'd just hurled towards its home. Its scales were rough, overlapping plates that gleamed in the sparse light, and it seemed to emanate a faint radiance as well. It was an imposing creature, easily large enough to eat him whole, yet its face looked almost kindly upon the young boy.
Despite this, he fumbled for his dagger at his belt, falling on his ass and kicking himself away from the terrifying thing as fast as he could. When it didn't attack, he started babbling incoherently, barely able to stay conscious, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"Oh dear, did I frighten you?" Sharsine's large head leaned closer, her forked tongue flicking in mirth.