The trek up to the mountain manor had been wretched. Between the gust that seemed to strike from any direction except the one he’d been expecting, and the intermittent blasts of bone freezing rain, Kalinos was more worried about being blown clear of the path than he was about meeting the Dragon. He hadn’t been sure how long he’d been walking. Two hours? Ten? Time had blurred so badly that he’d started to doubt that he’d made any progress at all when his foot crossed the Threshold and he entered the garden. The Chief had warned him about that, but it didn’t prepare him for the moment when the cold, grim mountainside path suddenly vanished. He blinked as merciless sunlight blinded his tired eyes and he felt summer warmth on his skin, and a smooth paving stone beneath his feet. It was at that exact moment that his still sodden boots skidded on the glossy surface and he barreled headfirst into a bush.

“Damn! Ow! Scuttling stones!” He swore furiously, and it took several uncomfortable moments to untangle his oilskin jacket from the leaves and thorns. Clutching furiously for a handhold, kale felt his hand wrap around something cool and metallic, and he managed to tear himself free of the gripping branches. Then he saw what he was clinging to.

Kal’s hand was wrapped around the slender ankle of a statue of perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, seemingly cast from shining, lustrous gold. From where he knelt, the statue seemed to tower over him like a goddess. Her expression distant and dreamlike, her hands reaching outward and above his head in a gesture of welcome. The longer he look, the more detailed he realized it was, between the gentle impressions of veins upon her feet and wrists, to the soft crinkling around the cheeks that gave the impression of a lady in the early days of middle age. Kal rose slowly to his feet, letting his gaze wander over the length of the statue’s immaculate form, brushing quickly and shyly over her bare breasts, and landing on the low plinth upon which she stood. Near its base was a plaque of gleaming bronze, with a name and date inscribed with a delicate, artist’s hand. “Lillia Almoreti. Collected Common Year 114 from Westerloche.” he whispered softly.

“An early addition to my collection. One of my favorites in fact.”

Kal jumped visibly at the sudden voice, and he whirled to see its source. Then he wished he hadn’t.

He barely managed to avoid falling back to his knees as he stared into the yellow, lidless eye of the Dragon. How something so large could be so quiet was something Kal didn’t think he wanted to consider. It had apparently slithered quietly down a path he had not yet noticed, so entrance as he was by the gilded woman, and had been waiting patiently for his guest to disentangle himself without commentary. Kal had hoped he’d meet the Dragon in its human guise, but it was natural he supposed that it would prefer to be in its primal state within the magical enclosure of its own home. He hadn’t expected it to be so… fluid. Each second that passed it seemed to twist and coil its serpentine body into arcing parabolas and curves that seemed to flow into the next shifting shape, one inscrutable pattern of coiled muscle and glittering silver scales after another.

“My lord! That is to say… if I may… I’m sorry that I, uh…” Kal’s tongue seemed to turn to lead in his mouth as he stared into the massive predatory eyes. A low rumble issued from the Dragon’s jaws, lined with far too many teeth he noticed, and he realized dumbly that it was laughing.

“Take a breath boy. You look like a mess, and that was before you decided to roll around in my Roses. Here…”

There was a gust of soft, warm wind, and Kal blinked as the serpent disappeared, replaced with a man… or perhaps a woman? The dragon’s humanoid form was handsome, ethereally so even, as if chiseled from alabaster. Wide golden eyes peered out from a sharp, handsome face that seemed to balance perfectly between the feminine and the masculine, and a cascade of dark red curls bounced on their shoulders like frothing wine poured from a pitcher. “Here now, is that more manageable?” The voice was the same, deep and ancient, but somehow gentle, like a parent soothing a small, excitable child.

“Yes, thank you my lord. I’m sorry about the roses. And touching… Lillia.”

The dragon waved this away. “I imagine she enjoyed the sensation. And I’ve done far worse to the poor bushes. You’d think after six centuries I’d havetime to become an expert gardener but… alas.”

Kal’s ears perked up. “Enjoyed? So she truly is, um.” He swallowed. “A person? You transformed her? One of the… the sacrifices?”

He rather wished he hadn’t said that last word. The Dragon’s lips curled upward in a sour smile that revealed the white, all too inhuman teeth behind them.

“Sacrifices.” The was a touch of venom in his words. “Is that how the village speaks of them now? As if I were some sort of ravenous wyrm devouring their virginal beauties? Delightful.”

“No! Sorry, my lord, I didn’t mean to offend. I’m… very tired. Not thinking clearly. I know its not like that.” Kal tried not to panic as the dragon took one deliberate step closer, then another. He found himself standing a mere meter away as the creature peered at him through cool, reptilian eyes.

“How long has it been since I took this mountain and its people under my protection… thirty years? Fifty? And in all that time I have never took a single soul by force, no matter how tempted I may have been, no matter how beautiful they were. And how many times have I protected your kind from bandits? Felspawn? Drakes far more covetous than I?” The voice was terribly quiet, not angry per se but cold and Kal imagined he could see more than a little disdain in that unblinking amber stare. He tried not to throw up in terror.

“I don’t know my lord, a lot of times?” He swallowed and managed to not break eye contact. “I’m sorry, its just what some of the old folks say when they get too drunk too early in the day. But I know its not like that, I… I believe. In you! You see, Gloriana is my sister!”

The dragon finally, for the first time Kal was sure, blinked. Then it tilted its head in a most unhumanlike fashion. Then his mask of quiet fury split into the most terrifying grin.

“You mean to tell me that you are Kalinos? That little sullen thing that was always clinging to her side like a barnacle on a galleon’s hull?”

Kal wasn’t exactly sure what a barnacle was, nor a galleon for that matter, but he returned his own slightly crooked smile. “Umm, yes? Uh, my lord.” The dragon moved so fast Kal barely had time to flinch. He found himself lifted into the air in what could only be described as a brotherly hug. It took him a moment to catch his breath as the hedges whirled around him.

“Wonderful! It must have been, what, a decade since I saw you?”

“Uh, nearly two my Lord. I just had my Twenty and Seventh name day.”

The dragon seemed to notice his bewildered tone and finally placed him gently but firmly on the ground. “Oh, no need for the titles. I apologize for the outburst, she’ll be so delighted to see you. I’ll have to wake her up of course… she won’t like that.” They let out another low, rumbling chuckle that did not exactly help with Kal’s still unsteady footing. The speed at which the powerful wyrm seemed to pass from one emotion to another was almost dizzying. He took the moment to catch his breath and finally examine his surroundings. The garden seemed to stretch for a mile or more around him, hedges in neat rows interspersed with all manner of flowerbeds, and berry bushes. A bright sun gleamed impossibly overhead, rather than the grim, evening mountain storm he’d trudged through to get here. It felt like a warm midsummer’s day on his face. Already the winter rain still clinging to his boots and jacket had started to melt away into the air, and he could not help but feel like he had crossed over into a dream as he took in the pleasant, impossible sight. But one detail above all the beauty and splendor kept drawing his eyes. The statues. The illustrious Lillia was far from alone. He could count another eleven statues of purest gold, men and women alike, all posed and perfect amid the sylvan rows. Some of them rested in the shade of elegant willow trees, while others stood naked in the sun, light reflecting off their gleaming curves so bright it was almost painful. And if he didn’t know better a few almost seemed to be… moving? He was so enraptured by the sight he almost missed the Dragon continuing to speak and had to return his attention to them quickly.

“… and I imagine she’ll be just as curious why you’ve come. After all she only sent that letter, hmm, how long ago was it she last wrote? I admit she doesn’t have a chance to do much writing at the moment, perhaps its been longer than I’d thought.”

They were speaking of the letter that was, in fact, crumpled tightly within the breast pocket of his jacket, the last words he’d heard from his sister for quite some time.

“Umm, six years ago my Lord. That was the last message I received from her. Its been a while.”

The dragon frowned as if they’d had the letter delivered only last week, but finally offered a mild shrug. “I suppose that does make sense. She was quite insistent you receive it. Though she never told me exactly what she wrote, only that it was an invitation.”

“Yes my Lord. I had intended to come sooner but I wasn’t able to do so until certain affairs were put in order. I had responsibilities, concerns. A lot has to be done when you’re the only one left to care for an aging father and to make sure the harvest is reaped.” He hadn’t meant it to sound like an accusation, but of course that was exactly what had happened. His sister had gleefully left the village for a strange, magical new life with the Dragon himself and all but abandoned her duties as the eldest child to him. Beyond the practical concerns it had taken more than a few years to forgive her. And yet now that he was here in this wondrous place it was equally hard to blame her.

The dragon had the decency to look a little apologetic. “Time is a river that flows faster for my kind than it does for yours. Forgive me, I should have followed up on this. Or removed her from her current engagement to do so herself. But I am pleased you finally have arrived. Would you like to see her?”

Kal wasn’t sure exactly what more to say to such a simple question. He managed a somber. “Yes please my lord.” and the dragon began to lead him through the hedges and down the widest path toward the mansion. As they walked he tried not to stare at the figures that lined the boulevard, all so beautiful and so elegant that it was hard not to feel small and dull by comparison. As they entered the mansion and stepped into the marble lined foyer, that instinct became impossible as he saw the décor. The dozen or so golden men and women outside had been little more than an appetizer to the banquet of gilden beauty lining the walls and niches. Statues of every age and shape met his gaze wherever it fell, posed in every manner. Some knelt in poses of submission and worship, others were athletic, frozen in mid momentum. His heart beat faster and faster as they moved quickly from chamber to chamber, each rife with new treasures to admire. The dragon seemed to puff up as they noticed their guest’s breath sharpening and made effort to point out a few favorites as they passed. He realized as they made a brief detour through the kitchens that indeed some of the statues in the garden may have been moving, as a small gallery of gleaming chefs were hard at work preparing an evening meal. Their movements as they kneaded and crimped the dough of some enormous pie were stiff and unnaturally restrained, but they looked up as the two of them passed, offering eager bows to their master, and pleasant, welcoming smiles to him. He caught the gaze one of the metallic cooks, a girl about his age with short shorn hair that stuck out like pin needles. Cold, golden irises stared back, no spark of life or intelligence in them, just the beautiful, empty stare of an object. He shivered briefly, though in discomfort or fascination he could not exactly say for sure.

Finally they came to what he realized must be the Dragon’s personal chambers. An enormous room stretched out as the door closed behind them, a multitude of cushions, large plush rugs and the heavy scent of incense filling the chamber. Only one statue stood in this room, and his eyes were drawn to it almost at once. It was of a girl about twenty five years of age, slender and caught in motion as if mid dance. A long river of hair flowed out over her back, braided and woven with precious stones, framing large almond eyes and sharp, aquiline nose. Her cheerful, almost elfin features were frozen in an expression of ecstasy and what he was embarrassed to realize was lust. And she was beautiful, so very beautiful indeed as she had been the day she said goodbye to him and went to join the Dragon’s hoard.

“Glorianna…” Kal said soft, a twinge of relief and sorrow echoing in his voice.

“Indeed, isn’t she lovely? Though her name is a bit shorter now. Look.” The Dragon pointed to her plinth where another plaque was inlaid. Rather than Lillia’s careful cataloging of name and date, this plaque had only a single word, a title really, as if upon a work of art seen in some grand museum.

Glory.

The dragon moved closer and placed their hands on the statue that had been his sister, carefully, lovingly as if handling a work of art, which he supposed she now was. “It will take me some time to return her to flesh. Normally I would merely animate her, but that would leave her still largely under my control, much like a puppet. I assume you would like to speak to her on more… equal terms.”

Kal nodded, trying and failing to pull his gaze away from Glory’s artistic form. All the admiration he’d had for his sister had come flooding back, despite his unease at seeing her so lifeless. And she did, he had to admit, make an exquisite statue. “While I am awakening her, perhaps you would be willing to tell me why you finally decided to come to our home Kalinos. You are certainly welcome, but I am concerned what was so important that you chose such a dangerous evening to make the climb. Is everything well in the village?”

Kal reluctantly returned his attention to the dragon and gave a shrug. “As far as I know. There was some family business that had to be resolved, and I had to work up the nerve, but I finally decided to take her up on her offer. Maybe. I hope.”

The dragon’s blank, reptilian eyes were more blank than usual. He waited a polite amount of time before prodding. “Yes? Her offer?”

Kal’s eyebrows rose. “You don’t know? I assumed she’d discussed it with you.”

The dragon seemed to be thinking for a moment than shrugged again. “Perhaps she did, years ago. But she has been standing on this plinth for half a decade now, when not being puppeted. We’ve hardly spoken in many, many months.” His expression softened. “We don’t need to.”

“Oh. Well.” Kal shrank a little at this notion, but swallowed and stood a little taller. It was now or never, he had to be honest with this creature if he intended to get anywhere, and the first person he had to admit the truth to was himself. “My lord…” he began, his voice firming as he said the words aloud he’d been holding in for days. “I’m here to become a statue.”