An Axe in the Flames

Everything That Glitters

Shadows enveloped the small room that the Master of Coins called his bed chambers, stretching across the floor and encompassing the walls and their heavy woolen tapestries. Brother Poe sat on the edge of his small encased bed, an elevated cot that was otherwise a box had it not held a straw mattress inside. Poe had always preferred the method of enclosed sleeping, as he gotten used to it at a young age where he was raised an orphan and taught a skill to become useful in the eyes of the Kingdom. His eyes stared straight ahead, wide and open but glassy as if the candle was burning but no one was home. His mouth hung limply open and he mumbled to himself.

"Gold that glitters, and shiny coins, count them all and stack them high. Make a wall and make a home, shiny and glittery the coins of all."

His black robes blended in with the darkness, but his face and bald head stood out in the sliver of moonlight that peaked through the high storm window across from his bed. His mouth continued to hang limply as he repeated the phrase over and over, drool beginning to hang from his bottom lip. One hand gripped the bed edge, but in his other hand he held a small black dagger, ornately carved runes on the handle seeming to glow a faint red. He stood up from his bed, his slippered feet making no noise as they caressed the stone floor. There was a knock on bed chamber door, soft and almost imperceptible.

"Poe, I do be wonder if you are ok?" Came the voice of Y'hrue, thick and almost mumbled together.

"The shiny and glittery, all to be mine. Held and to hold, all the riches." Poe continued to mumble as he crossed the bed chambers.

There was another knock on the door, but Poe wasn't seeing a door. His eyes were open and he was in his bed chambers but what he was seeing was completely different. All around him were great stacks of coins in all denominations. Copper, bronze, tin, and gold pieces both stacked precariously and haphazardly in a round ceiling room that resembled a cave. The walls were dank and dripping wet, with moss growing on the sides and the only light was that of a brazeer in the center of the room. Next to it was a chair made entirely of stacked gold, with a high back and arm rests, it had been neatly arranged and created. The mouth of the cave was covered in a fine golden threaded tapestry that depicted a scene of a great fat man laying on stacks of gold and holding aloft a massive double bladed sword. Somehow, Poe knew this place and knew the enormous man depicted in the art as himself...yet it wasn't himself as he knew it. Not Poe, but another name, an ancient name that hadn't been spoken in millenia.

Poe reached out and unlatched the door, in his vision he pulled back the tapestry. With a deft strike he knew a foe waited for him on the other side, someone to steal his riches and take his precious shiny and glittery coins.

"I hear you ta-" Y'hrue was cut off mid-sentence as the dagger slid in and out of his throat.

Poe saw the troll standing outside of the cave mouth and lunged with the sword, it slid cleanly through the thick neck and severed the head almost cleanly. Starlight flooded in to the cave mouth and Poe looked for more would be thieves but saw none. He kicked the body of the troll away from his home and closed the tapestry back. Wiping his blade on his enormous belly and walking back to his coin throne, he chuckled to himself. Knowing that thieves would always covet his riches but he would never relent, he would never give up the watch and guard of his most precious possessions.

Y'hrue clutched at his ruined throat, dark blood oozing from between his fingers. He couldn't scream and he couldn't run, Poe had cleanly severed the jugular and windpipe. He dropped to his knees, his eyes frantic and wide in desperation, he reached for Poe's robe but was met with a kick that toppled him over. He fell back with a thud and lay there as the world closed in around him, the click of the door the only sound as Poe was locking it back.