Betrayals of flame

As Arren made his way toward the entrance, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on his chest, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. His boots crunched on the uneven stones, each step echoing in the vast cavern. His heart pounded, his mind racing with the implications of what he had just witnessed. A dragon, a winter dragon, had lived here—protected this cave, perhaps for centuries. But that moment of discovery, the ruin of the nest, the ancient creature... it felt like he had stumbled into something much larger than he could comprehend.

Before he could make it to the cave's exit, a deep voice rang out, sending a tremor of surprise through his body.

"You should not tell anyone of what you've seen," the voice said, its tone commanding, yet strangely soft, like the wind brushing against the snow. Arren froze, his breath catching in his throat. He turned slowly, heart racing. Standing in the shadows, her massive form just visible against the dark recesses of the cave, the dragon spoke again.

The dragon was no mere beast, Arren realized in that moment. The voice, rich and resonant, filled the cavern with a deep, ancient power. "Your kind—humans—should not concern yourselves with what happens here. If you tell others you saw us, it will bring ruin upon us. Your fear will grow, and your stories will become twisted. You will seek to destroy us, as you always do when faced with the unknown."

Arren's mind spun. This was impossible. Dragons didn't speak, not like this. He had heard stories of their intelligence, their power, but to hear it now, from one of the very creatures he had once believed to be mere legend, left him shaken.

"I-I saw the egg," Arren stammered, his voice thick with awe and confusion. "It was by the entrance, half-buried in the snow. What does it mean? What is happening here?"

The dragon's eyes glowed softly in the dim light, the ancient intelligence behind them both mesmerizing and terrifying. Her scales shimmered like frost on a winter morning, each movement slow and deliberate, exuding an air of timeless majesty. She seemed to be considering his words, her gaze never leaving him.

"You saw the egg?" The dragon's voice was calm, but there was an undeniable edge to it. "That egg was meant for no one but me. It was abandoned because of forces beyond your understanding, forces that would leave your kind trembling if you knew them. But you—human—do not need to concern yourself with the dragons' fate. You are merely a witness."

Arren felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold air of the cave. The weight of the dragon's words sank into his chest, making it hard to breathe. "But… why not let me tell someone? They might be able to help."

The dragon's deep, echoing voice broke through his thoughts. "You would not be helping. You would only bring death. Do not think your kind would not turn their fear into violence. The egg, the dragon's legacy, is ours to protect, not to share with those who do not understand."

Arren hesitated. Despite the dragon's warning, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had already crossed a line. He had already seen too much—too much for any man to ignore. The knowledge of a dragon's existence could change everything. But could he really keep this secret? Could he walk away from this and say nothing?

The dragon seemed to sense his conflict. She stepped closer, her enormous form filling the cave entrance with an almost suffocating presence. "Do you understand, human? The egg is not for your people. You do not need to worry about it."

As if in response to her command, the air around Arren shifted, and a faint glow appeared at the dragon's side. She lowered her head, and with a slow, deliberate motion, she summoned something from the ether. A small, seemingly ordinary bag appeared in her claws—though nothing about it was ordinary. It glowed with an almost imperceptible magic, a hum of power that sent a shiver down Arren's spine.

"This is for you," the dragon said, her voice softer now. "Take it. It will help you carry what you must, for I will not allow the egg to remain here any longer. It must be moved."

Arren stared at the bag, his breath held in suspense. He had never seen anything like it before. It was small enough to hold in one hand, but its surface shimmered with an ethereal light. The dragon seemed to sense his confusion and nodded.

"This bag can hold far more than it appears," she explained. "It is a gift, of sorts. Take it, and you may carry the egg. But remember this: it is not a gift for you—it is a means of protecting what is ours. When you leave this place, you are to leave it with me. Do not let anyone see the egg. If they do, the consequences will be far greater than you can imagine."

Arren stood frozen for a long moment. He didn't fully understand the magic of the bag or the dragon's intentions, but one thing was clear: she was not giving him a choice. She wanted the egg removed, and it was his responsibility to carry it out.

Finally, he stepped forward and carefully took the bag from the dragon. It was surprisingly light, considering its magical aura. The bag's opening was wider than he expected, and as he held it, he could feel its power—a strange, silent force that seemed to hum beneath his fingers. He glanced at the dragon, who stood tall and still, watching him with a mixture of authority and quiet sorrow.

With a deep breath, Arren turned and moved toward the entrance of the cave. As he approached the egg, now resting softly against the cold stone, he hesitated. He could feel the weight of the dragon's gaze upon him, but he couldn't bring himself to refuse. He bent down and carefully placed the egg into the bag. The moment the egg touched the opening, it seemed to shrink, the bag adjusting to its size while remaining the same as before.

Arren felt an overwhelming sense of unease wash over him. He had just done something that no man should have done—taken a dragon's egg and hidden it from the world.

"Goodbye," he whispered, his voice barely a breath as he gave the dragon one final glance. The creature nodded once, her eyes deep with ancient knowledge, and then slowly retreated into the shadows of the cave, her form fading into the darkness.

Arren didn't look back as he stepped into the cold daylight. He had his task, and there was no turning back now.

Arren carefully adjusted the magical bag containing the dragon's egg, feeling its strange weight settle against his side. The bag's surface remained unchanged, its size no different from when he had first taken it. He could sense the power within it, yet its unassuming appearance made it all the more unnerving. The egg was now hidden from the world, safe—or so the dragon had said—but for how long? And at what cost?

As he turned to leave the cave, the cold air rushed in to meet him, biting at his skin and filling his lungs with a sharp chill. He inhaled deeply, his breath visible in the air as he made his way toward the cave's entrance. The feeling of having witnessed something ancient and dangerous lingered in his mind, gnawing at his thoughts. He was a mere man, burdened with the weight of secrets that were never meant to be his. The dragon's warning echoed in his ears, and though he knew the consequences would be dire, he could not bring himself to ignore what had happened.

With one last glance into the depths of the cave, Arren stepped into the daylight, his heart pounding as the sunlight hit his face. It felt warmer, but the feeling was not comforting. The entire world seemed different now, as if the fabric of reality had shifted just slightly in his presence. He glanced at the two boars, still draped over his shoulder, their once-valuable hides now irrelevant compared to the greater task ahead.