The Last Moon Dragon – 1/9

The full moon that night wasn't just decoration. It was huge, arrogant, owning the sky, casting silvery shadows over what was left of the world. It was as if it said: "You lost, but I'm still here."

Among broken walls, charred trees, shattered stones, and lakes turned into muddy puddles, a huge dragon, his scales already dulled, walked like someone with nowhere to go—just refusing to surrender to boredom. His name was Kaelthys, though no one seemed to care about names in that land anymore.

Kaelthys, once a lord of battles and the hero of stories that could chill the spine of any bard, now only wanted peace. Or at least a good excuse to complain about life. Even his wings, once symbols of pride, dragged on the ground, drawing grooves in the earth as if trying to dig a hole and hide from the world. From a distance, someone might think he was a prehistoric animal looking for shelter, but he was just a tired dragon. Very tired.

"Amazing. I survived so many mages, heroes, even that fairy addicted to blackberry wine. And now I end up like this, grumbling alone, hungry, with a burnt smell that not even I can stand anymore." The dragon spoke out loud, blowing smoke up into the air out of pure spite. The wind scattered the smoke, carrying away any hope of an audience.

The truth was that Kaelthys felt invisible. The ruins had more stories to tell than he did. A cracked stone here, a charred tree there, and an idiot crow trying to nest on his head. The crow cawed, maybe cursing. The dragon just snorted, flicking the bird off his head with a claw. The animal cursed again and flew away, leaving Kaelthys alone, again.

In that scene of abandonment, a new sound broke the monotony. Quick steps, a clinking full backpack, maybe a mug bumping against some bottle. The dragon widened his eyes and hid behind a broken column, as if he could possibly go unnoticed at that size. He sniffed the air: no danger, just the smell of old leather and, strangely, melted cheese. He thought, "If it's a hunter, at least I'll laugh before I fry them."

Suddenly, a girl appeared. She wasn't a princess, nor a lost damsel, but a crooked adventurer with misaligned armor, hair tied up any old way, and eyes that challenged everything and everyone. Her smile was provocative, like someone who had faced the worst and wasn't afraid anymore. She looked straight at the dragon and, without hesitation, shouted:

"Wow, what a size, huh? Do you spoon with your own loneliness or are you already used to it?"

Kaelthys spent a few seconds processing the audacity. No one had talked to him like that in decades. He wanted to snap back, but his tongue got twisted. In the end, all that came out was,

"And you, have you always been this bold or are you just training to lose your teeth early?"

She laughed, the sound echoing through the valley.

"I'm Lyra. And you, apparently, are my dinner—oops, I mean, my host tonight."

She took her backpack off and sat on a rock. She started pulling out bread, cheese, an apple, and even a bag of colorful candies.

The dragon came closer, pretending to be threatening.

"You know, humans like that usually become barbecue before dessert." He bared his teeth, but Lyra just laughed louder, offering him a piece of cheese.

The dragon stared, hesitated, and finally accepted. The taste was strange, salty and a bit sour, but different from anything Kaelthys had ever tried.

"At least it's better than those bland dragon hunters from the old days," he grumbled, mouth full.

Lyra started telling stories, gesturing nonstop. She talked about lost battles, idiotic kings, naked witches fleeing dragons, and a time she raced on a drunk goat. Kaelthys burst out laughing, almost coughing fire. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so much. Actually, he barely remembered he even knew how to laugh.

The moon rose higher in the sky, the conversation getting more and more absurd. Lyra bet Kaelthys on who could find the roundest rock, who could spit the farthest, who could best imitate a lovesick goblin. The dragon got into it, accepting all the craziness. He lost at the rock, won at the spitting, and totally rocked the goblin impression.

With every challenge, the two teased each other. Lyra joked about the dragon's breath, Kaelthys mocked the smell of her armor—a mix of sweat and moldy biscuit. They laughed, mocked the world, and forgot their loneliness for a few minutes.

When exhaustion hit, Lyra lay back on a rock, looking at the stars.

"Up here, the moon looks even prettier. I think you go well with it, dragon. Both are full of attitude and empty inside."

Kaelthys faked indignation, but liked the compliment.

"At least I don't sleep with cheese in my pocket."

The silence was broken by a sinister noise coming from the forest. Branches snapping, a smell of mold and rot spreading. A monster, made of stone, moss, and an ugly face, appeared, dragging its feet. Its eyes glowed a sour green, and drool dripped down to its knees.

Lyra jumped up, sword in hand, as excited as a child spotting candy.

"Finally, action! Let's see who brings it down first!"

Kaelthys opened his wings, making the wind howl.

"If I win, you wash my tail. If you lose, you lend me your toothbrush."

The monster attacked, but it was slow. Lyra spun, jumped on the creature's back, shoved an apple in its mouth, shouted "swallow that vitamin!" and nearly fell from laughing so hard.

The dragon blew fire at the creature's rear, making it scream and run in circles. Lyra yanked a ragged pair of underpants stuck on a branch on its horn, waving it in the air.

"Look, even the monster has more style than you, big guy!"

Kaelthys laughed so hard he cried. The monster, humiliated, ran off tripping, vanishing into the mist. They collapsed on the ground, laughing until their bellies ached.

When the silence returned, Lyra kept looking at the dragon, her smile now softer.

"You know, if every night was like this, I could get used to this broken world."

Kaelthys sighed, his scales reflecting the moonlight.

"Maybe, just maybe, it doesn't have to be all bad. As long as there's cheese and adventure."

The wind brought a new, sweet, different smell. Something magical lingered in the air. But, for now, all that mattered was the lightness of laughter, the camaraderie, and the certainty that this night would be remembered. Even if just for the monster's underpants.