The Inexorable Tide of Volstrath Tags (Dragon, Desperation, Watersport, Fantasy) She stirred from her slumber. The endless cavern before her glittered with the reflection of distant light. Her eyes focused, watching for the slightest disturbance. Volstrath wasn’t oblivious to the dangers of owning a hoard as vast as hers. Idiotic adventurers weren’t uncommon, and vengeful peasants were a monthly affair. She stretched her wings to their full span, dark red canopies that rustled the top layer of gold coins and sent them trickling down the dunes of treasure. She was proud of her form, scale and mass, claws and maw. She was impenetrable. Among her wingmates, she was strongest. The nearby humans whispered her name in fear, and told legends of her while she hibernated. She was without weakness. Her wings collapsed again, and she went to close her eyes. Then she felt a weight within her. She didn’t wake up to some noise, or an imagined intruder. It was a trivial thing, even worse by all means. It was the natural call of her body. So rare, that it almost felt foreign. She shifted in place, asking herself if she could settle again and handle the matter next week. A stab ran through her bladder, a blow like she hadn’t felt in decades. Her claws dug into the coins beneath her, and her teeth were bared to the distant lantern light. This meant she needed to go to the lake, which was several minutes flight. It also meant leaving her lair in the middle of an amazing rest. She stood to her full height, the gold stirred once more, pouring down in waves as it fell from her hind legs and tail. Then she heard it, a gasp. It was a human gasp. Her nostrils flared, and twin spouts of flame briefly lit the dimly lit space. A flash in the dark, a man in bright garb. It wasn’t uncommon among human thieves, charlatans, and minstrels. Why they thought themselves manipulative and sneaky, yet dressed bright enough to be seen from across the countryside, was beyond Volstrath’s attention. “I can see you, human.” She growled. There was the chime of scattering coins. She hoped she didn’t have a runner. It was so pointless to run from her. She could roast the whole room in one breath, and her gold was as good to her as coinage, solid, or wet with human blood. She just preferred to keep her living space neat, and rotting human stuck around for months. “I can hear you too,” She said as she lowered her head, peering into the dark. “I don’t doubt it,” The human shouted, “mighty Volstrath.” She snorted again, and there he was right before her. It seemed he had found a place stable enough to stand. He was small, though maybe not for mankind. A knife glinted at his hip, and a large bag was on his back. She could smell the fear on him, his body slathered in sweat. She didn’t have time for this. Not today, at least. She amused the nearby villagers, and it seemed the knew this. About half of them made it back home intact, just never with her treasure or her head. As if they could manage to touch either. “Why do you bother me?” She said as she tried to settle her body for the moment. He was beneath her, but now he was taking up time that was important to her. If she wanted to make it to the lake, she needed to leave soon. “I know, mighty Volstrath, that your treasure and your caverns are your own,” He began, “But I come asking for something that would cost you neither.” Her body went stiff for a moment, and she felt her bladder tighten. Her flight time was shortening with every word this bumbling fool spoke. She was starting to feel agitated. She hadn’t relieved herself in her own caves since she was a youngling. She knew the stench, and the shame. It was living among your own filth, a practice she reserved for brainless animals and humans. She would rather pour her desperation over the rooftops of a human city and awaken an army than create even the smallest puddle in her own lair. “Speak!” She snapped, her mouth closing in a crunch that sent the man rolling over backwards. Why was she listening to this at all? This was why her wingmates kept kobolds. Sure they kept you up with their chanting and tinkering, but at least they kept out the riff-raff. He struggled to stand, “I am Martin, or I am called Martin. I guess that isn’t important though. What is important is that I mean you no harm, and I don’t wish to cause any trouble for you. Mighty Volstrath, I come with no ill intentions.” Her thoughts were focused elsewhere, her muscles squeezed to keep hold of a flow that could end lesser beings. It was hard to even hear him, let alone care what he was saying. She roared, an accidental jet of flame flying past his head as she spoke. “As if you could manage, pest. I am the ender of dynasties, I have brought heroes to ruin, and laid low civilizations you’ve never heard of. The only harm you cause me is the sound of your voice.” Her claws flashed in the light as she dug up chunks of dirt. Her tail whipped in the darkness, crashing against a tall hill of gold. Her whole body ached, and she demanded relief. But now was not the time, she couldn’t betray her desperation or weakness, not in front of something so low. He bowed, “Yes, of course Volstrath. Your strength could sunder mountains, and your beauty shames queens.” A quiver travelled down Volstreath’s body, and she knew she was running out of time. But something made her stay, and hear exactly what this human thought he had to offer. “I wish to ask, not for your wealth, but for your favor.” Her eyes narrowed on him, and she had the urge to eat him then and there to be done with it. “What?” He pulled down his bag, and reached into the sack as he continued to speak. All sorts of objects came out, small wooden boxes, and rolls of paper. “My people, and you may know them from the mountains below, have suffered at the hands of our neighbors while you have slumbered. These last 2 years have been terrible, with the king across the pass taxing us, overworking us, and even sending men to kill us in the night.” She didn’t care to know how the local humans subdivided their kingdom. She was feeling the full force of her 2 years of slumber at the moment, pressing hard against her most delicate of holes. If she didn’t do something soon, the problem was going to make its way into the real world. “You wish me to help in your petty wars?” Volstrath began, her words cutting short as small waves of pressure struck her, “I have taken naps that last longer than your wars, and I will outlive any who could owe me a favor. Why would I grant you anything?” He pulled out a small wooden instrument, a lute. He strummed it, and Volstrath pressed her head down to the ground in response to the disturbing noise. “The king to the West, he wants to end you as well, mighty Volstrath,” The man said as he strummed again and cleared his throat, “But we won’t let him, because we are yours.” Hers? The thought was interesting, if she could think clearly on it. Villages of humans were quick to betrayal, but she did need a new hobby when she woke up in earnest. Her tail went straight, and she felt herself open for brief enough that a jet struck the coins behind her. “What was that?” Martin asked as he looked around in confusion. No one praised a dragon that cannot hold her bladder. “Mine?” She said to distract him, and more so to distract herself. Maybe now, with that little bit of volume lost, she could wait through his inane proposition. “Oh,” He said as he strummed again, “Yes, Queen Volstrath, our lady in the mountain.” He was becoming sing-songy, and she didn’t know if that made things better or worse. She knew it meant he was planning on taking his time. She was doing all she could not to growl at him as the pressure mounted inside her. “The massive red queen, with the impenetrable hide,” He sang, “Where no weakness is seen, on her front or her side. She breathes flames over foes of her land and her kin, we serve her above all, and protect her great den!” Another jet escaped, followed by a slower flow, and as hard as she held, she couldn’t stop the flow immediately. She could smell it now, and worst of all she knew he could hear it. There was no way now she would make it to the damned lake, she would be lucky if she could get to the cliffside outside. “Volstrath? I mean, might Volstrath, are you okay?” Martin asked, lute out. There was a look of actual concern on his face, but she had no time to think on it. “Of course,” She rumbled, but she worried that even a human could read her lack of confidence. Her body was bound up, her back arched, her wings held close. “Of course,” He repeated, “But what did you think of my song? What do you think of helping us? We protect you, sing your praises, even build you a great lair. You can do-” She couldn’t hold it back anymore. Years of buildup, drained lakes, swallowed rivers, demanded release back into the world. “Move you fool!” She said as she swatted Martin and thrashed forward through the cave. Now she was leaking, and sure of it. A flow she kept as small as she could, but drained across the priceless treasures like a hose. Martin landed on the gold and looked up to see the growing stream of golden liquid that followed her as she fled. Never before had he seen a dragon move with such ungainly motions. Her body seeming to betray her. She got as far as she could, but she felt the first burst. A splash that was audible like a wave crashing against a shore. Then she let instinct take over. She swung in a circle, her claws and tail creating a bowl slightly smaller than her own girth. The gold coins and treasures were flung everywhere in a loud clattering, and then the vacated space made the hoard begin to slide down into the dug pit, taking Martin with it. He clung at the sliding gold, trying his hardest to avoid the avalanche of gold, and more so the fate of everything that reached the bottom. Volstrath held as long as she could, but she straddled the pit, a small lake in itself, and knew that not even she could stop what came next. A torrent, was already spilling forth, and no man or beast could stymy the flow. Her body stiffened, and then relaxed, and she couldn't hold back the long groan of relief as she let spill waves into the bowl. A cry made her stop, and for a brief moment she held back. She looked between her legs, and saw that holding at the edge of the pit, at risk of joining the shameful mess she was creating, was the herald Martin. But no sooner than she realized, did the flow return. Dark gold waves that crashed against their container, pouring forth like a geyser tilted to the earth. Her body trembled as she emptied herself, her muscles thankful to finally relax. It was monumental, a pleasure unlike any she had felt since any living man walked the planet. Martin, on the other hand, was in terror. Volstrath’s barrage of urine, which he hoped wasn’t a sign of her displeasure with him, had swallowed him up and now span him in the makeshift trap hole she had dug. He was swirled against the edge, and realized with horror that it was deep enough that he could be pulled down and drowned by the created eddie. He grabbed for whatever he called, gilded swords stuck in the ground, chests of gold and silver, a bag stuffed to bursting with glowing stones. Each couldn’t hold in his fingers, and he was thrust deep into the putrid liquid. It was like a baptism in filth, pulling him to the bottom, soaking into his everything. Then the liquid settled, and Martin struggled to the surface before his body fought for breath. Before he made the surface, he gasped for air, and took in a mouthful of the dragon’s foul excrement. He latched onto the shore, gagging and spittling as he pulled himself to safety. Martin rolled over, his mind fading, the fumes from the heat of Volstrath’s waves making him delirious. All he could see was a pink circle, like an eye, winking at him as if transmitting a message. It looked deep, and even from his beached location he could feel a delightful heat wafting down from it. It slowly closed, the message over for now, the delightful whispers halted. Volstrath’s shame returned as she remembered the herald. Had he survived? She was unable to stop herself, like a hatchling. If the man was ended, no matter how low a thing he was, it was because of her own lack of strength. It made her feel odd, a strange pressure in her chest that she was at once alarming, damning, and enticing. She turned a circle over her pit of child-like failure, the heat and stench offending her nose. Then she saw him, on one side, his lower half still dipped in her urine. He had the widest smile spread across his face. She picked him up in her teeth, and dragged him back deeper into the caves. She didn’t know what she was going to do. If she let him go, he would tell them all about her weakness. Would they attack her when she needed relief? Would they wait until she had drank her full, and her time came again? She would be ruined, and need to move to a new cavern. Above all else, he had seen her personally, wailing in weakness, practically cowering like some human child. But if she ate him, they would just send another to ask her the same, to reiterate their little proposal. Could she even get rid of the proof of her shame in time? She dropped him, and he seemed to stir. He was alive. Something about him made her want to keep him alive, something born in the moment. The choice made her throat hot. She put her head down over her claws, mouth not far from the drying human. Within the hour, he sat up, “I have seen it!” Volstrath’s eyes opened, and she focused on him. “You have seen what?” He scrambled to his feet, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was still soden with her failure. “A beautiful thing, like the doorway to the heavens,” He began, his words too loud even for the size difference between them, “Surrounded in pink, it looked at me, I looked on it directly, a thing no man should see and live to tell about. It spoke to me, I saw it gasp at the air.” At first Volstrath ignored his words, then she thought about his description. She felt a heat burn in her chest as she realized he was describing her, or at the least her opening. Had he looked upon her? It must have been while she was… vacating. A burst of flame enveloped her teeth, he had seen it all first hand, as she let slip free what no grown dragon should. Even worse, among humans, weren’t such places kept private, hidden, did he think he was gazing into sordid places? Somehow, even him thinking so made her feel dirtier. “What did you see?” She asked, her mouth opening slightly, ready to do what she must to protect her reputation. “The eye of a goddess,” He said with arms out wide, “Your divine eye, telling me the truth I should have known. You are no mere dragon, lady Volstrath, you are divine!” Her mouth clamped closed. She didn’t know whether to laugh, cry out, or just kill him. Her eyes closed, and she let out a snort that singed the air around him. “It was glorious,” He said, “Miraculous. Thank you for showing me what no man has ever seen. Beautiful Volstrath, powerful Volstrath.” Volstrath opened her eyes, “Yes. I have, in my divine wisdom, decided to protect your little village.” “Thank you,” He said as he bowed. “Your people will be mine, your hills will serve as my pantry, and your lakes as my… jugs.” Martin bowed deeper, “Yes Volstrath of the pink eye, thank you.” A chuckle shook the chamber as she looked down on the fool. “But you,” She said, “You I will keep. You will worship the eye, directly.”