Orphaned Shinies

20260819

Written for “Smogust’s Story Hoard”, prompt 13.

There came a point, in every adventure, where you wondered if you’d finally lost your mind and this time it wasn’t going to work out. Abigail had breathing exercises for it. They usually worked. But watching a giant ghostly dragon rearing on a mountain peak and roaring was leaving her knees knocking.
Well… she’d confirmed the rumour. Though, admittedly, given how many people had reported seeing exactly the same thing, it was a substantial rumour. And she wasn’t really adding anything if she turned back now.
Ugh. How much would she have to do, to qualify as “having investigated”? Wizards did tend to be cheapskates… really, by now she should’ve known better than to agree to do legwork for one…
By this point, she’d been dithering long enough to notice something off about the roaring. While just as eerie and frightening as one would expect from a dragon’s ghost, under that it… sounded like the dragon was shouting “Halloo”.
In fact now she couldn’t unhear it. And that wing flapping and claw waving was, on reflection, not so much threatening as frantic.
Interesting.
Now intrigued in her own right, Abigail slowly approached. Nerves on edge.
“OH MY GOSH!!” The ghost wailed. “CAN YOU SEE ME??? CAN YOU HEAR ME?”
“Er, yes?” Abigail called.
Surprised by this question, given how many people had reported both seeing and hearing the ghost.
“FINALLY!” The ghost dropped to all fours, its wings folding and its jaw lolling open in a toothy grin. “I’VE BEEN TRYING TO GET PEOPLE’S ATTENTION FOR YEARS WITH NO LUCK AT ALL! I WAS STARTING TO THINK I’D NEVER FIND SOMEONE TO LAY MY LAST REGRET ON.”
“Last… oh, you mean it’s unfinished business which is keeping you on the mortal plane?”
That was fairly normal. Except for the whole dragon thing. But, hey, dragons had business too, right?
“YES! EXACTLY!!” The ghost bobbed its head. “CAN YOU HELP ME?”
Being both kind and experienced with this sort of thing, Abigail said “I’ll do what I can.”
“GOOD ENOUGH!” The ghost turned and extended a wing to point. “SEE THAT BIG TRIANGULAR ROCK THERE? DON’T FEEL BAD IF YOU CAN’T, I WENT TO A LOT OF TROUBLE TO MAKE SURE IT BLENDS IN.”
“Hm…” Abigail slowly walked up to stand beside the ghost and raised her staff, directing light where it indicated. “I think so? Three times as tall as me?”
“THAT’S IT. WELL, IF YOU PUT YOUR NOSE TO IT AND SAY ‘MUCKROW’ IT WILL OPEN. IT’S MY LAIR. WELL, WAS.” The ghost flapped its wings. “MY BODY’S STILL DOWN THERE, SO, UH, IT’S PROBABLY PRETTY GROSS BY NOW. SORRY ABOUT THAT.”
“Is that the problem? You want a proper burial?”
“OH, NO, DON’T WORRY ABOUT THAT. THE PROBLEM IS MY HOARD!” The ghost’s wail became truly heartrending. “ALL THOSE BEAUTIFUL SHINIES LOCKED AWAY WITHOUT LIGHT, WHERE NOBODY CAN ADMIRE THEM!! IT’S TRAGIC! ALL MY ANTI-THIEVERY MEASURES HAVE DOOMED THEM! MY POOR BABIES!!!”
“Oh dear.”
Treasure lost underground was a dreadful shame, though admittedly she wouldn’t describe herself as emotionally moved by the situation. Still. Opportunity for a side job here, and clearing up the haunting surely had to qualify for completing an investigation.
So she asked “What would you like me to do, exactly?”
“GIVE THEM A GOOD HOME. OR FIND SOMEONE WHO CAN.”
“A ‘good home’ being…? Sorry, I don’t know dragon hoard etiquette.”
“I WANT THEM TO GO TO PEOPLE WHO WILL LOVE THEM! WHO WILL ADMIRE THEM AND CHERISH THEM AND APPRECIATE THEM EVERY DAY! NOT JUST PUT THEM IN A BOX OR SEE THEM AS A PILE OF MONEY.”
“Ahh, ok.” Abigail rubbed her chin. “Well, I’ll take a look, and see what I can do. Depending on what kind of, er, ‘shinies’ you have I should be able to find people who’ll appreciate them.”
“THANK YOU!!” The ghost danced on the spot. “AND YOU CAN KEEP ANY YOU LIKE.”
“Sounds a fair trade to me.”
After all, even if it was just a bunch of shiny non-precious rocks she could find a collector - or, worst case, a bunch of children.
Striding over to the rock, she gingerly pressed her nose to it (a much more sensible key when you had a dragon’s snout) and murmured “Muckrow”. Sure enough, she found herself sliding through the rock as if it wasn’t there at all!
And immediately hitting a metaphorical wall of stink. Ugh. Well, the ghost had warned her. She pulled her scarf over her nose and forged on. Down the damp, rough tunnel which opened out to a cave mostly filled by the rotting dragon corpse. Surrounded by…
Oh.
Oh wow!
She hurried back out, firstly to gulp down fresh air and also to ask “Did you make all those?”
“YES. GOLD SCULPTING HAS ALWAYS BEEN MY PASSION.”
“They’re amazing!!”
“OH!” The ghost puffed up its etherial chest. “THANK YOU. THAT’S VERY SWEET, ESPECIALLY SINCE YOU’RE THE FIRST PERSON WHO’S EVER SEEN THEM.”
“Ok, look, I’ve got some connections with traders, and if we organise an art sale, not only can you decide whether someone’s allowed to buy, I could make enough to finally retire! How does that sound?”
“ERM, I DON’T KNOW WHAT ‘RETIRE’ MEANS, BUT IF IT GETS MY SHINIES GOOD HOMES, AND HELPS YOU TOO, THAT’S GREAT!”
“Alright.” Abigail rubbed her hands together, her face alight with plans. “This is going to take some organising, but I promise, I’m going to make it happen. For now, I need to get back and write up that report, then I’ll track down my mate Garret…”
“YOU REALLY THINK PEOPLE WILL LIKE THEM?” The ghost asked shyly, its wings quivering.
“Like them? I’d be amazed if you didn’t start a whole art movement! We’d better make sure to get an interview or two written down before you pass on properly, for the history books.”
Even having a mouth that big, the ghost couldn’t fit all the smile it had at this news.

I took the prompt as “Dragon ghost”.

Click through to see the art (and maybe check out other stories written for it while you're there).