Lucky Vasilisa

After digging through the gold for some time, she unearthed a round, iron object adorned with a silver eagle. The eagle, stained with the dragon’s fluids, gleamed in the light reflecting off the gold.

“…Is this it?”

Vasilisa grasped the palm-sized eagle ornament and tried to pull it out, but it was stuck.

With another tug, something broke, and Vasilisa fell backward.

“…!”

She scrambled back, horrified by the object she had unearthed.

The ornament was only part of a helmet. Beneath the eagle’s outstretched talons, a weeping willow tree was etched into the metal. Inside the helmet, which had once borne the weight of glory, lay a weathered skull, its neck broken, rattling loosely.

“You found me.”

The voice definitely came from the skull. Vasilisa’s jaw trembled at the unbelievable sight.

“Y… You called me?”

“Indeed. I waited for the dragon to sleep. But his slumber isn’t deep, so we don’t have much time.”

With a short reply, the skull’s jaw clattered, and it slowly rose into the air. A bluish aura gathered around the skull, clad in the eagle helmet, and gradually formed the shape of a man.

A skeletal knight, clad in chainmail and a cloak, looked down at Vasilisa.

“I am the king of a fallen kingdom. I’ve long awaited someone who can fulfill my dream.”

“Dream…”

“My dream is to kill the dragon.”

The skull’s voice was aged but sharp with hatred. Vasilisa shivered at the chill emanating from him.

The skeletal figure, enveloped in a blue aura, slowly leaned towards Vasilisa.

“I know how to kill the dragon.”

A chilling metallic voice sent shivers down Vasilisa’s spine.

Frowning, Vasilisa looked around the cave. The smooth, sheer walls offered no handholds, a pit of certain death. There was no way to escape unless she had wings.

“What good would killing the dragon do? If the dragon dies, I’ll die here too.”

“Kill the dragon and restore my honor, Vasilisa.”

The skull ignored her question, his focus solely on his obsessive desire for revenge.

“Who are you to speak of honor? Why should I restore yours?”

Vasilisa raised her voice.

The skull paused, as if in thought, staring blankly into the void. Emptiness filled his hollow eye sockets.

He angrily reached out his translucent hand to grab her, but it passed right through her.

A heavy voice, as if suppressing his rage, emanated from his rattling jaw.

“I’ve long forgotten my name. But as your king, I command you, Vasilisa. Kill the dragon.”

“Ha.”

Vasilisa scoffed at his declaration.

A ghost who couldn’t even harm her, a specter who couldn’t even remember his own name, was commanding a living human to restore his honor.

Vasilisa bit her lip.

Was this how Koschei felt? A burning shame rose within her, flushing her cheeks.

Whether he was once a king of a distant land, his desperate plea was no different from her own desire for revenge against those who had wronged her.

“If I can’t even leave this cave, how can I spread your name? Tell me how to escape. I will tell your descendants your name.”

The skull shook its head, its bones clicking and clacking.

“There’s nowhere to escape. Kill the dragon.”

The conversation kept circling back to the same point. It didn’t make sense that a skull buried in the middle of a cave would know how to escape.

“I’m done with this pointless conversation.”

The skull was a reflection of her future.

If there was no escape, then…

She didn’t know how many had died here, but every time she brushed away the gold coins, she found another skull.

All the while, the skull continued to rattle its jaw, calling her name.

“You can kill the dragon. You’re the only one he’s allowed into his nest.”

“…I suppose so.”

Vasilisa muttered as she dug through the gold with her chapped hands.

She’d tried not to think about it, but the feeling of the dragon’s members inside her was vivid. Though her belly was now flat after being repeatedly filled, a strange sensation lingered within her with each twist of her waist.

She wished the dragon would sleep forever. But she remembered his whispered words before he’d let her rest.

– You seem tired, so rest. I haven’t learned everything about you yet.

He wouldn’t fall into a deep sleep with such a burning curiosity.

Her weak resentment wasn’t strong enough to overcome the dragon’s interest. Just as the skull’s resentment couldn’t move her.

The exhaustion from days of relentless coupling doused the flames of her revenge. Her resentment, soaked in the dragon’s seed, was barely a flicker.

Vasilisa slammed her fist against the pile of gold.

“…Damn it!”

Tears welled up in her already sore, swollen eyes.

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known, from the moment she’d been thrown into the dragon’s lair, that revenge was a distant hope. She should consider herself lucky to have survived.

She shouldn’t have woken the dragon. If he had remained asleep, she would have simply starved to death.

She couldn’t even protect herself, yet she had foolishly tried to capture the dragon’s attention.

Her trembling fingers searched for a sharp object.

Ending her own life was better than being ravaged to death. And perhaps, with his curiosity unsatisfied, the dragon would burn the village to the ground.

Her fingers, raw from digging, closed around a rust-free dagger.

The skull, watching her, rattled its bones.

“Stop… You must kill the dragon. For my honor…!”

Frustrated that the human he had finally encountered wouldn’t obey, the skull radiated anger.

Vasilisa tilted her head back and raised the dagger high. It was fortunate, in a way, that she had met the skull before she died. She now understood the dragon’s incomprehensible mind.

“Dragons don’t die. No one has ever killed a dragon.”

Her hand trembled as she held the dagger. The blade pricked her skin, a sharp sting against her throat. Killing herself was harder than she’d thought.

The skull hovered around her, emanating an anxious aura.

“Of course not. A dragon’s soul doesn’t reside within its body.”

Tears streamed down Vasilisa’s face at the skull’s desperate words.

The dragon’s soul doesn’t reside within the dragon? It was a riddle. If he didn’t have a soul, how could he move, transform, and fill her with his seed?

The dragon’s curiosity must have infected her, because the blade stopped at her throat.

The skull whispered.

“The dragon hides its soul within the eye of a needle. If the needle is broken, the dragon will never return. That needle is…”

A massive claw slammed down on the skull, accompanied by a gust of wind.

The dragon, appearing out of nowhere, stood right behind her.

“…Koschei.”

Towering over her, the dragon was in the same form as when he’d last slept. His claw opened, releasing the crushed eagle helmet and scattering bone fragments.

“This happens occasionally. It’s one of the reasons I find humans amusing. They cling to their desires, unaware that they’re already dead.”

His booming voice, amplified by his massive form, filled the cave. The clinking of his armor-like scales was strangely clear. Far in the distance above, in the darkness surrounding his head, his eyes glowed like burning coals.

“What did the specter tell you?”

Her heart pounded at his accusatory tone, as if testing her.

Dragons didn’t understand honor or responsibility. Could they even comprehend betrayal? And if they could, would that feeling be stronger than their curiosity?

Vasilisa’s pale lips moved.

“He said… I was the first to enter the dragon’s lair…”

“Correct. You’re the first I’ve allowed into my bedchamber. And?”

“He asked me… to kill you.”

A low chuckle reverberated from the cave ceiling. The dagger trembled in her hand from the vibrations.

The dragon slowly approached. The light reflecting off the gold coins faintly illuminated his head. His furnace-like eyes drew closer and closer.

“Then why are you pointing that at yourself, and not at me?”

Her trembling lips couldn’t form a reply. She couldn’t even avert her gaze from his intense stare. His ivory claws gently plucked the dagger from her hand, and her arm fell limply to her side.

The dragon opened its massive jaws.

Was it the wrong answer? Betrayal outweighed curiosity. The dragon must have heard her conversation with the specter.

Bracing herself for death, expecting to be swallowed whole or incinerated, Vasilisa squeezed her eyes shut.

But the expected pain or searing heat never came.

Instead, something smooth and wet brushed against her body. Gasping, Vasilisa opened her eyes to see the dragon retracting its long, forked tongue.

“Don’t harm yourself. I don’t like my possessions damaged.”

Vasilisa quickly touched her neck. There was no wound, though there should have been. Confused, she looked up at him.

As if exasperated, the dragon nudged her with his snout.

“Answer me. Swear you won’t harm yourself again.”

“I… understand.”

The dragon’s eyes narrowed in satisfaction at her stammering reply. Despite his bestial features, she could clearly see he was smiling.

“Have you rested well, Vasilisa?”

“…Yes.”

Vasilisa forced a smile onto her stiff face. The dragon, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, gently grasped her. Careful not to scratch her delicate skin with his claws, he placed her on his back.

His demeanor was significantly different from when he first carried her.

“Hold on tight.”

Vasilisa instinctively clutched the gaps between his scales. The dragon’s massive body moved silently across the mountain of gold.

Vasilisa finally exhaled.

Relief washed over her, and her skin, from the nape of her neck to her hips, was damp with cold sweat. Her heart pounded in her chest.

She examined the scales she was clinging to.

The bluish scales, like forged iron, were each as large as her palm, interlocking like tiles on a roof. Even through her fingertips, she could feel their hardness, impervious to ordinary weapons.

Each one was like a beautiful, intricate piece of art.