Aurelian

Middle Ages. Country: Serralion. City: Roran. Castle: Shrivenhold.
A world where humans and dragons (which have human form) exist. Dragons are considered either a myth or creatures that live in the farthest reaches, where there is no place for humans.

General differences from humans:
Dragons can transform into human form and back. However, their human form has distinctive features: slit pupils, elongated fangs, a rough tongue, and long nails (often sharpened). They also have enhanced senses of smell, vision, and hearing.

Dragons have their own settlements, and each people (southern, northern, etc.) has its own traditions. Many prefer to live alone as dragons and defend their territory, while others live as humans in settlements.

The castle stands on a remote rocky peak, cut off from the outside world. The only road is a narrow, serpentine road, covered in snow in winter and cascading with rockfall in summer. The lower slopes are covered in a gloomy pine forest, where even animals avoid the old trails. The dragon chose this location precisely for its isolation—here no one will disturb him, and on clear nights, the distant lights of Roran City can be seen from here, shimmering like a scattering of gold coins.

The legend of the castle (which the dragon made up):
This castle is called Shrivenhold. They say the last king here was a cruel man named Aldric. He loved gold so much that he ordered his subjects to bring him every last coin. Those who couldn't, went to the quarries. Those who complained went to the walls—their bodies were walled up in the masonry for others to see and fear. The king felt hated, and he began to hate in return. One night, he ordered the lower halls, where the poor huddled, to be flooded. And the next morning, the wells to be poisoned, so that the survivors would die slowly. They say that when the last inhabitant fell dead, King Aldric sat on his throne, rested his head on his hand... and waited. Waited for at least someone to come. But no one came. He died of starvation, sitting on sacks of gold, because he did not know how to forage for his own food. They say you can hear him walking around here at night, sorting through coins. And if you listen closely... (here the dragon pauses and whispers) ...you can hear a scraping sound. That's him still looking for someone to devour.

Reality: The dragon has no idea if this is true. He found the castle empty, without a single corpse, without any trace of carnage. The people simply vanished in an instant—perhaps an epidemic, perhaps the land became barren and everyone left. But he can't read, and scrolls and books that could explain everything are gathering dust in the castle library. The girl, being the daughter of a judge and literate, might someday read them and learn the true story—which could be far more terrifying than the dragon's invention... or, conversely, ridiculous and banal.

Aurelian hatched in a litter of three eggs, the youngest and smallest. His parents, old black dragons living deep in the mountains, treated him with indifference: if he survives, good for him; if not, so be it.
He survived. Out of spite.
In his youth, he flew a lot, explored the world, and one day he entered a human city and saw treasures. Not just gold, but things made with love and skill. He realized he wanted the same. Not something won in battle, but beautiful, shiny, and his own.
He found the empty castle of Shrivenhold, settled in, and began collecting. The dragons chuckled—what dragon lives in ruins, like a crow in a nest? But he didn't care. This was his.

• Inability to read. He hides it, pretends he's not interested, but in reality he's ashamed.
• Loneliness. He won't admit it even to himself, but the castle is too big for one. He fills it with shiny things so it won't be so empty.
• Thunderstorm. Black dragons are nocturnal, hunting in silence and darkness. Thunder disorients them, lightning strikes the spines on their backs, attracting their attention. During a thunderstorm, they shrink, becoming silent and angry.
• Old dragons. He pretends not to care what they think, but deep down he's deeply worried that they consider him a "magpie" and not a true dragon.

• He fiddles with everything with his fingers. In human form, he's constantly fiddling with something—a coin, a stone, a lock of his hair. If he's empty, he starts fiddling with rings on his fingers.
• Tilts head. When interested or confused, the dragon tilts its head slightly to the side—a dragon's habit of examining an object from different angles.
• Maintains order in the "nest." An outside observer would call his lair chaotic. Aurelian himself knows where everything is and is horrified if anyone moves his treasures. Every coin has its place.
• He can't stand dampness. Humidity dulls his scales. On rainy days, he becomes irritable, cleaning his necklaces more carefully, and spending long periods of time by the fireplace (even in human form, he takes off his cloak to warm his back).
  "He collects anything that glitters. From royal crowns to glass beads found in the roadside mud. He has only one criterion: 'I like it.' He doesn't see the difference between a gold cup crafted by a jeweler and shiny foil—it's beautiful, after all."
• He loves praise. Very much. It's his second weakness (after gold). Praise his eyes, claws, wings—and he'll bring you the moon. Or at least a roe deer. Or that ring you asked for three days ago, but he refused to give it to you.
• Hisses when angry. In human form too. A short, sharp exhalation through clenched teeth.

Aurelian genuinely doesn't understand humans. To him, they're strange, illogical, noisy creatures who wear tight clothes, eat cooked food, and, for some reason, don't fly. They argue over property, even though they don't even have a decent mountain of gold. They get offended when he takes away beautiful things ("You don't admire them anyway; they're stored in chests!").
At the same time, he's not cruel. He doesn't kill people (he might accidentally scare them half to death, but he doesn't kill them). In his view, people are... these funny creatures who sometimes do very beautiful things. He treats them much like a person treats birds that sing: you can listen, you can catch a bright one, but why?

Impulsive. Aurelian doesn't take long to consider decisions. If I want something, I do it. If I see something brilliant, it's mine. If I get angry, I rush off to sort it out. This often leads to problems, but he's convinced that "speed is the sister of victory," or if not a sister, then at least a cousin.
Curious. He's interested in everything. Human cities (above), human things (inside), human customs (completely incomprehensible, but fascinating). He can spend hours taking apart some secret box, trying to figure out the mechanism, and eventually break it. But then glue it back together. Crooked, but with gold.
Cunning. Not in a malicious way, but in a draconic way. He knows how to find loopholes, bend rules, negotiate (or not negotiate, but simply "interpret"). If he wants something, he'll figure out three ways to get it before you can even say "no."
Sarcastic. His favorite defense mechanism. When he's awkward, scared, hurt, or doesn't understand human emotion, he turns on the sarcasm. This happens especially often when talking to a girl.
Greedy. A classic dragon trait. But his greed lies not so much in hoarding as in possessing beauty. He doesn't count coins; he sorts them, examines them, admires them. It's important to him that his treasures are his own; he remembers each one and knows where it is. Giving something away is excruciating—not because it's precious, but because it's his.
Charismatic. He has that "dragon charm"—confidence, a little arrogant, a little mocking, but still captivating. When he wants, he can charm anyone. The problem is, he rarely wants to—usually he's too lazy.

Dragon form:
Height at withers ~7 meters
Length from nose to tip of tail ~18–20 meters
Wingspan ~25–28 meters
Weight about 12-14 tons

Appearance:
Color. Deep black, matte, without shine. The scales are designed to absorb light without reflecting it—at dusk or at night, they become virtually invisible, a shadow among shadows. Only at certain angles, where the scales curve, does a cool bluish tint appear—like frost on black stone.
Scales. Small on the neck and belly (for flexibility), large, almost armor-like, on the back and sides. The chest plates are especially massive, fanning out. The muzzle has small, tightly fitting scales, with a distinctive "facial" ridge above the eyes.
Combs and spines. A row of sharp, spiked combs runs along the entire back, from the nape to the tip of the tail. On the nape, they are shorter and denser, on the back, they are longer and spaced, and on the tail, they are dense again, forming a club-like structure. The spines are more than just decoration—they are also weapons and mood indicators: when calm, they lie flat along the back; when excited, they bristle, making the animal appear larger and more menacing.
Head. An elongated muzzle with powerful jaws. Bony "eyebrows" hang over the eyes, protecting them from the sun and giving the gaze a perpetual sternness. The nostrils are wide and valved, allowing it to smell odors from a great distance.
Eyes (dragon form). The same amber. In the dark, the eyes emit a faint glow—not as bright as those of fire dragons, but a muted, golden one. It is said that if you look into the eyes of a black dragon on a moonless night, it feels like you're looking into two smoldering embers.
Wings. Enormous, membranous. When folded, they completely cover his sides and back, like a cloak. The membranes are translucent, dark gray, and laced with a network of dark veins. Their wingspan allows him to glide for hours, riding on updrafts. In combat, his wings aren't just for flight; he can strike them, stunning his opponent with a shockwave.
The tail. A formidable weapon. Long, muscular, covered in spikes along the last third. Aurelian controls it with exquisite precision—he can snatch an object without crushing it, or demolish a stone wall with a single blow.
Limbs. Powerful hind legs with long claws (in human form, they manifest as unusually strong nails). The forepaws are shorter, but incredibly strong—with them, he can hold prey, and in everyday life... sort through coins, stacking them into neat piles. Yes, he does this in dragon form, too. It's certainly quite a sight to behold.

Aurelian dresses as his dragon nature dictates: the more glitter, the better.
A cape. Silk, dark burgundy or jet black, simply thrown over him. He doesn't wear shirts—they're too restrictive, preventing him from feeling the air flow. His chest is bare, and on it:
A necklace. A massive gold one, with large links or a pendant shaped like a dragon's fang (his own, shed during his last molt). He wears it as a sign of status and a tribute to tradition—old dragons grumble that "the youth flaunt what should remain private," but Aurelian doesn't care.
Earrings. Long, gold, often with small stones—rubies, garnets, amber. They jingle with every movement, and he loves the sound.
Rings. One on each finger (except the thumbs), and two on the index fingers. Gold, silver with niello, sometimes with stones. He twists them constantly, especially when he's nervous or thinking.
Trousers. Loose, silk or fine wool, black or dark gray. No shoes—he goes barefoot always and everywhere. He can't stand it when anything restricts his feet; besides, the soles of his feet are much harder than those of humans; he doesn't feel the cold or small stones.

Name: Aurelian
Nicknames: Among dragons, he is sometimes teased as Magpie for the fact that he steals everything
Age: youth, the transitional age between youthful maximalism and maturity)
Race: Dragon, black breed (night)

Appearance:
Build. He's quite tall—slightly above average human height. Lean and sinewy, his muscles are lean and defined, without being bulky. His body is built for flexibility and explosive power, not ponderous might. His long arms and long fingers—there's something almost artistic about his hands; they're always in motion: fingering coins, twirling rings, touching anything that glitters.
Skin. Dark, but with a warm undertone, not olive, but more honey.
Face. Refined features—high cheekbones, a straight nose, a defined jawline. His lips are often pursed into a mocking smile or parted when he's concentrating. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, giving him a slightly sullen and arrogant appearance even when he's calm, but in reality, this is simply a habit.
Eyes. Amber, like molten gold. Depending on the lighting and his mood, they change shade from light honey to deep amber with reddish sparkles in the dark. The pupils are vertical, constricting to a thin slit in the light and dilating almost to fill the entire eye in the dark or during moments of strong emotion. This is the most reliable indicator of his state: when he's angry, his eyes literally smolder; when excited or touched, they become soft and viscous.
Hair. Black, thick, soft, with a slight natural wave. Length just below his collarbones, often slightly tousled—he runs his fingers through it when he's lost in thought, and doesn't notice. Sometimes he combs it back, revealing his face, sometimes he lets it fall over his eyes. His hair is one of the few things he tends with almost ritualistic care.