Merchant Crab

The adventurers ran away, dispersing wildly across the plains, doing their best to get out of reach from the incoming fire blast building up inside the hovering dragon.

One of those adventurers, the boldest among them, had gotten closer than anyone else, and was now doing a mad sprint out of the creature’s shadow as the flames began spilling out of its maw. He ran as fast as his naked feet allowed him, his loincloth swaying wildly in the wind from the dragon’s wings as he went.

Jack dashed with all he had, one hand still holding his sword in place behind his back as he ran, but with the huge fireball now descending from the creature’s mouth, there was little chance he’d make it far enough away in time.

Far off to the side, between the outer circle of adventurers surrounding the plains, one young woman stood shouting amid the crowds of fleeing fighters, her calls drowned out by the cries and yells of the hundreds scattering away around her.

Leah shouted and gestured frantically at her friend to keep running towards her, too far from him to do anything else to help.

The entire scene played as if slowed down in front of the group, watching safely from the bazaar, until the dragon’s fireball touched the ground beneath it, and perception caught up to reality with a vengeance.

First to feel the power of the dragon’s fury, Jack was blasted away by the fireball, its flames carrying him over the air before he was unceremoniously dropped over a pile of rocks in the middle of the grass and disappeared behind them.

The impact sent out a forceful blast of dust and heat, followed by flames that lashed at the crowd like hungry tongues. Many who were either too close or too weak to withstand it were sent flying several paces from where they stood, rolling on the ground as they landed, like dolls made of dirty rags.

Everyone inside the bazaar flinched and ducked as the wave of heat reached the sides of the gazebo like a windstorm from hell.

“Come on! We gotta help them!”

“We need to pull the injured away. Let’s go!”

“I got a bag of potions. Someone cover me while I make a run for the ones closest to the impact!”

Alone again, Balthazar and his four helpers looked at each other with livid expressions, those with the skin for it looking as pale as the moon.

“That was bad,” said Rye with a hoarse voice. “You think… you think any of them… you know…”

“We can’t think about that right now,” Madeleine quickly said. “We need to focus on helping those still in danger out there.”

“Guys, look,” Balthazar said, pointing a pincer outside.

The dragon soared higher above the plains as the dust settled, revealing a huge crater on the ground below, left by its outburst.

The crab’s pointy silver claw, however, was aiming at something far smaller on the edge of the crater.

Running through the smoke and dust, an adventurer clad in leather and steel, carrying a sword on her waist and a bow on her back, made her way to a group of rocks near the impact area.

“It’s Leah,” Balthazar said, squinting through his monocle. “I think… she found Jack!”

Pulling his arm up around the back of her neck, the girl retrieved her partner from the rocks. He stood up, visibly dazed, but conscious, his skin covered in soot and dirt, and his trusty sword still strapped to his back. The horned helmet he had taken from the bazaar was still on his head, and it seemed to have served its purpose, for it looked like he had hit the rocks beneath him with his head, as the dent on the front of the helmet was now much more pronounced, and a thin line of blood ran down his face from under it.

Jack stumbled, but raised one hand and gave a thumbs up towards the bazaar before his companion helped him back to the larger group of adventurers.

“Damn,” said Rye. “Those potions you gave him might have saved his backside there.”

The crab opened his mouth to make a witty remark about the swordsman’s backside and his torn up loincloth, but a booming voice from the sky interrupted him before he could even start.

“I have had enough of your affronts to me, humans! If you will not return the treasure that was stolen from my hoard, then your city shall burn!”

Realization hit Balthazar like a rock thrown by an unruly goblin kid up on a cliff.

A dragon’s hoard. Just like the one that the stranger the monocle couldn’t identify claimed his statuette came from.

It couldn’t be.

Or could it?

Dragons were just a myth, and yet now there was one hovering right outside, demanding something that someone stole from it.

His precious new golden statuette.

“I know what the dragon wants!”

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“What?!” exclaimed the surprised baker.

The crab peeked outside once more. The dragon was circling back, aligning itself in the town’s direction.

His eye stalks moved down, looking at the dispersed groups of adventurers still trying to get each other back on their feet.

“No time to explain!” said the panicking merchant. “I need to run to my islet and grab something, but we can’t let the dragon fly to the city and start torching it up, or it will be too late. I need something, anything, to keep it distracted long enough for me to grab what it wants and then get its attention.”

“But what, Balthazar?” a desperate Rye asked. “My arrows can’t reach that far, and it’s not like any of us can fly to catch up to it up there.”

A feeble, low growl came from the back of the bazaar.

They turned to see a young drake waddling her way into the room, her tail dragging behind as she slowly approached.

“Blue!” said Madeleine, bringing her hands to her face and looking worried.

“What are you doing here?” Balthazar said. “You’re still too weak. You should be recovering back in my tent, where it’s safer.”

The drake let out another weak growl and raised her neck with difficulty. Some of her blue scales between her neck and wings were still charred from the lightning strike and she was still clearly far from having recovered her strength yet.

“You’re not seriously thinking of letting her fly out there like that, are you, Balthazar?” the baker asked. “Poor thing is still hurt!”

The crab’s immediate reaction was to agree. It was far too risky under normal circumstances, let alone in the state she was in. But before he could say anything, he found himself unable to pull his gaze away from the drake. Despite her feeble state, her intense yellow eyes were fixed on him with a determination strong enough to pierce through his thick shell and reach his very core. Blue did not speak, but her intentions could not be any more clear to him. She wanted to help, and she was going to, whether they liked it or not.

She was stubborn. Just like Balthazar.

“Sorry, Madeleine,” the crab said with a faint smile, his eyes still fixed on Blue’s. “This one isn’t too keen on doing what I tell her.”

The drake stood up on her hind legs and slowly stretched her wings open with difficulty.

“Are you sure you’re up for it, girl?” Balthazar asked in a whisper as he got closer to her. “All I need you to do is keep that big thing distracted and away from town long enough for me to grab the statuette and show that I have it.”

Blue gave him a gentle nod and unfurled her wings further before taking flight and leaving through the hole in the ceiling above them.

The crab watched her take to the skies and towards the dragon with a small tightness in his small, cold heart before turning to the others again.

“Alright, Druma and Rye, you guys protect Madeleine and watch over Blue while Bouldy and I make a run for my tent.”

Wasting no more time waiting for a response, the crab skittered out of the bazaar through the back with the golem close behind.

A loud roar from above forced Balthazar to slow down and look up at the sky.

The enormous red dragon swerved into the air as a small blue speck spun around its head, nearly missing its eyes.

Circling back, the drake dove once more and swiped at the larger creature’s snout with her talons, making it roar again, in either pain, anger, or a mix of both.

The dragon’s response did not take long, however, for before Blue could get a safe distance away again, a red wing, bigger than her entire body, charged at her in full force, smacking her down and sending her on a spiraling descent towards the ground.

Balthazar’s run came to a sudden halt, and he yelled to his golem. “Bouldy, catch her!”

Without a second of hesitation, the stone giant pivoted and, with incredible grace and speed for his size, dashed and leapt towards the sandy shore next to the bazaar and caught the fallen drake in his hands.

The crab held his breath for a second until the golem turned and revealed a dazed but conscious Blue in his arms. Letting out a quick sigh of relief, Balthazar returned to his objective and ran across the wooden bridge over the water.

As he set one foot on the central islet’s shore, a shadow loomed over him, accompanied by a sudden gust of wind.

He turned, and the ground shook as the terrible red dragon landed on the opposite shore, its neck stretching out as it extended its head over the water towards the crab.

“You,” it said in a deep and terrifying voice, like an echo spilling out of an old cavern. “Why does a lowly creature keep meddling in my affairs? These humans, everyone and everything else here, seem to revolve around you. Are you somehow their leader?”

Balthazar stared in awe at the giant before him and gulped.

“I—I didn’t mean to offend... I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” he said, measuring each of his words carefully.

“Something was taken from me,” the dragon said, “and those humans refuse to bring me the thief. They bring this upon themselves.”

The golden crab weighed his response before speaking, something he was certainly not used to doing, but given the current situation, he knew that saying too much could trigger a reaction he had no way of coming back from.

“Mister dragon,” he started, “I promise you that no one here, including myself, could have possibly known what that stranger had done to you.”

“So finally you admit it,” said the dragon, its brow furrowing and its nostrils flaring. “You know the one who took what was mine.”

Balthazar winced and his mind raced, trying to measure his words as best as he could. Saying the wrong thing to an enraged dragon could lead to very undesirable consequences. The crab would need to ease him into it, preferably while offering him his treasure back.

“Well, no. Sort of. He was just passing through. I can’t even recall which way he was going or what he looked like. But if you give me just a little of your time I promise I can procure your precious treasure—”

“Lies!” the dragon shouted. “All these pestering humans and you and your annoying companions, I see now that your only purpose was to distract me, to waste my time. I am a mighty red dragon, and insignificant creatures such as yourselves will not fool me. Your disturbances have exhausted my patience and my mercy. I will find this thief, and him and anyone who stands in my way shall burn.”

The dragon pulled its head back and bared its sharp teeth as plumes of smoke shot out of its nostrils.

Balthazar knew what was coming, and he knew he had no hope of getting away in time. Dragons were not the kind to be swayed by charming words or mercantile tactics. Unless it saw the statuette in front of its eyes, its rage would not subside. If that would even be enough at that point.

As its maw opened, a wave of hot air spilled out of the creature’s mouth and the bright glow of flames grew within its throat.

The crab could tell his fate was sealed as far as the dragon was concerned. Its eyes piercing into his with no mercy or remorse for its prey.

There would be no talking his way out of it any further. He considered confessing he had the statue in his last seconds, but at that point it would likely been seen as a desperate lie from a desperate crab, or it would only serve to anger the creature even more. Anything he could say would only further enrage it. He was out of cards to play.

He glanced back at his tent, the statuette hidden somewhere below, in his hiding hole. So close, yet too far for him to reach in time and present it to the dragon.

Would that even still be enough to calm it down? No way to know, and it did not matter anymore. The flames were already spilling out from its mouth, the fireball ready to shoot out and turn him into a grilled crab.

Not exactly the way he expected to go, but then again, Balthazar always thought he’d live forever up until that point.

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