Black smoke hissed in plumes from between the jagged spires dotting the mountain range. Deep beneath the rocky foundations, Argus raked his claws through the heaps of golden treasures he’d taken most recently from a woefully underprepared village, and gazed thoughtfully at the painting he’d commissioned one year before from a team of artists. As a dragon, Argus wasn’t usually one to pursue the arts, or human creations of any kind for that matter, but then again, much of his approach to conquering had changed in the past three-hundred-sixty-five-days after his utter humiliation at the literal hands of the Princess Narina.
The painting depicted none other than the princess herself, standing in the fiery ruins of her kingdom. Golden-haired, ocean-eyed, and innocent, the portrait accurately captured her beauty. Though the image of the girl was larger than a mere human, per Argus’s request, it was of course greatly under-exaggerated her actual height, which was enough to make the great dragon look like a baby kitten by comparison. Still, Argus saw it as fortuitous to have a visual of his arch-enemy hung on his wall, so he could focus his every waking moment on her eventual destruction.
“Someday soon, your highness. Someday,” Argus vowed. His slitted eyes blinked slowly, but even in the blackness behind his scaled lids he could still see the girl’s smiling face, and worse, hear her high-pitched cooing. She was burned into his mind. Narina was truly the most terrible of foes: the kind that didn’t even acknowledge their rivalry. This was likely due to the fact that Argus had never done any more damage to the princess than lightly singeing her oversized robe hem, while she in turn had easily manhandled the winged beast like her personal cuddle toy year after year after year.
But not this time. This time, Argus knew, things would be different.
The very day after Narina released the dragon from her gentle clutches, sending him soaring away with a wave and a blown kiss, he flew directly for the opposite coast of the continent. There would be no stewing this year, no sharpening his claws, and no idly drinking in dark energy with the expectation that he would overpower the girl alone on the next anniversary of their challenge. His ego was sufficiently torn down after so many annual hours of being snuggled over Narina’s bosom and feeling her wet, warm lips pressing against his spiked spine. Feeling lowlier than ever, Argus saw clearly enough into the future to make a tactical decision that would finally allow him to best the girl in combat once and for all.
In the months that followed, Argus visited every other kingdom upon the land. With no giant princess guarding the hills, he rapidly overtook their ranks, scorching whole battalions to a crisp with one flaming flyby, and knocking over ancient defensive perimeters with a few clicks of his iron-clad talons. However, Argus was wiser now. Rather than plunder the entirety of the place as he once might have, burning and killing through their pleas for mercy, he instead chose to demonstrate his might on an unfortunate few, then demand surrender. Several leaders were foolish, and sent out yet another troop of soldiers, which Argus answered by smoking even faster than the first, before repeating his demand for an unconditional yield yet again. Once word spread of his campaign, though, the kingdoms anticipated. Some even declined to send out an army, and surrendered as soon as Argus landed in their province.
Sniveling at the pitiful humans genuflecting to his form, the dragon couldn’t blame them. Though he hadn’t grown nearly as quickly as Princess Narina had, Argus had certainly become stronger over the years, and in many instances, he was tall enough to peek right over the castle walls without even taking flight. Arrows and trebuchet boulders alike pinged right off his slick metallic hide. None on Earth stood a sliver of a chance against him, except for a certain royal who lived in blissful ignorance on the opposite end of the continent.
For the whole year, Argus worked his way back toward Narina’s kingdom. He was tireless in his efforts and clear in his message to the people: they could keep their lives if and only if they took up arms at his command, when the time came. Though the villagers and kings alike were understandably confused by this request, when it was clear Argus on his own could overpower any conceivable military force, they gratefully accepted the terms. It was from among these subservient civilizations that Argus commissioned the painting of Narina for his cave lair. He also, some months later, demanded that half of all the kingdoms’ gold and jewels be delivered to his cavern as well, just because he could.
So it was that all kingdoms on the continent, except for the very oldest and mightiest which was home to the golden-haired demi-goddess of a girl, came under Argus’s rule. He’d broken the ranks of traditional dragon practice by forging this agreement with the humans at all, and at times it made Argus sick to think of the dignity sacrificed by failing to smite all those kingdoms. However, when he then thought of the eventual payoff, it all seemed worth it. He smiled, looking upon the enormous painting of Narina day and night, and had to restrain himself from scorching the image to ash. On an opposite shore, he knew the real girl would soon meet her match.
The standing date of Argus’s rematch with Narina came and went. It was the first occasion he’d failed to appear in the thirteen years since their introduction. Smugly, Argus was so assured of his upcoming victory, he decided it would add delicious insult to injury if Narina, for once, had to come and find him, instead the dragon himself being forced to travel to her kingdom.
However, knowing his absence would surely not go unnoticed by the princess, Argus chose this time to prepare. He flew over the land, marshalling all available forces, and ordered them to precise coordinates down the center of the continental map. The dragon expected the royal’s eventual emergence from her kingdom leading her on a direct path through the center of the land, and by strategic placement of the many armies now at his disposal, Argus arranged for a literal path of ambushes by every military from each kingdom he’d taken. With their might combined, these multi-national warriors numbered in the millions, each armed to the teeth, and brought with them the best modern technology in the art of war, from hundred-foot battering rams to explosive catapults. Argus again broke dragon ranks and provided the armies of men with some of his arcane knowledge, granting them magic and alchemical weaponry to more than double their strength.
Now, bunkered peacefully in his lair, the dragon just had to wait. Argus slashed a single claw across the neck of the painted Narina, and seethed with pre-emptive delight for his assured triumph. The plan was perfect: while the amassed alliance of conquered kingdoms distracted Narina, leaving her kingdom unprotected, Argus would have ample time to flank her on the path and claim his prize by burning her beloved home to the ground. Then, and only then, when she returned, would they have their grand climax. Argus could hardly wait.
A day passed. Then two.
On the morning of the third day, Argus awoke from an anxious sleep with one eye open. Groggily, he realized light was streaming across his elongated reptilian head. This was unusual, because his lair existed deep underground, covered by a volcanic mountain range barbed with sharp spires in a constant state of magma-belching unrest. Nonetheless, the sunlight cheerily filled in his rocky private quarters, and even the omnipresent smoke layer which kept the district in an unending black-and-grey overcast state had cleared away.
In its place was Narina. At least, the dragon was pretty sure it was the princess. He’d been having so many dreams about her, rehearsing the glorious stages of their final conflict, that he wasn’t surprised to see his nocturnal visions spilling into real life.
However, upon blinking, and crawling up toward the new opening in his lair, Argus realized he wasn’t dreaming: Narina was, indeed, standing above his home. Having ripped the mortal crust of the mountain right off its foundations with her bare hands, she was stooping down to peer inside at him; the princess wore an enchanting smile and hummed a lovely song to herself as she casually combed her auric tresses with the other hand that wasn’t currently gripping an entire mountain peak.
She was stooping. Over the mountain. Argus vomited flames in a blind range.
Narina had doubled in size since their last battle.