Armin and the Seven

There weren't always dragons in the valley. To many, they just appeared one day; to one little boy, however, they had always been there. And only he knew how to find them...

“ARMIN!” The king shouted shaking him to attention. “Listen carefully, time is short my son.”

The young boy had clung to his father crying, begging him to stay, his mother sat frightened but strong his older sisters sitting by her side, hands held, quietly weeping. The king’s men shouted orders and though alone in the kings’ private chamber the din betrayed the chaos that had taken over the castle grounds. The shouting of orders, metal clanging; they all knew what it meant, even young Armin. His mother rose moving beside her husband, placing a hand on his shoulder, he continued.

“Armin, my son. You cannot join me in battle, you are charged with a far greater task than I. You must take care and protect your mother and sisters; this is your noble duty. The boy noted the glisten in his father’s eyes, each crease that fell from their corners down his cheek. He reached out touching the stubble covering his father’s chin. “Yes father” he took a deep breath taking a snapshot of this moment, his father turning toward his mother, taking her in his arms, his fingers running through the mop of hair on Armin’s head. His sisters huddling ever closer. The love. Terror. Words left unspoken as his mother allowed the king to pull himself from their embrace, leaving the chamber with a single glance behind him. It was the loud clank of the chamber door that brought his awareness back to the present moment. He was unsure but for now he was obedient.

“Armin” his mother’s soft voice spoke. She reached an arm out to him. Slipping into her embrace he tried to wrap his arms around his mother and sisters.

“Let us sleep mother, tomorrow will bring good news” Armin spoke confidently. The women dressed for bed as did Young Armin. There was knock at the chamber door, Corinne, his mother’s hand maid, brought warmed milk and honey, cheese curds and a dish of cured meats. Before she could hurry from the chamber, the queen grasped her wrist, commanding her attention. “Corrine, thank you for all you have done for me and my family, please take your leave, be with your family. We know not the outcome, be with your loved ones. Go straight away, speak to no one until you are with them” she opened the door addressing one of the guards outside “Be sure she has safe passage to her loved ones with haste” he nodded his understanding and the two hurried away. There were seven more guards in the hall outside the chamber, she knew these men would protect her and her children with their very lives, she winced barely holding back tears, she’d be damned if fear took root. Returning to her children she sat at the table.

“Come children, let us eat, we must keep our strength, then we shall sleep” she smiled as her children joined her. They sat quietly eating before settling down to sleep.

Sleep did not find Armin the commotion above and below held his curiosity. He knew the guard would keep his mother and sisters safe, he very much wanted to see the battle below, see how his father and his men would turn the tide. A boy his age knew nothing more of war strategy or battle than play pieces and wooden swords. Barely eight years on this earth he had only just begun learning the motions, nothing more than games in truth. He only wished to see for himself, before all was lost, he had heard his mother tell Corrine that she knew not the outcome.

Armin seized the opportunity his sleeplessness presented. Slipping from the warm bed he shared with his mother and into his clothing he quietly made his way to the secret passageway. It led to the highest turrets. He knew it well, having, on more than one occasion, joined his father to view the territories. Ordinarily it was a quiet and serene place, so high above the treetops of the forest and shale mountains the castle was built between. He made the dark hall and winding stairs quickly popping out at the tallest turret on the castle. Archers were dipping their arrows in oil and lighting them afire, drawing their bows in unison, releasing them on the orders “Loose.” It was the arching walls of fire that allowed him to see the carnage below. Bodies of men and horses littered the grounds outside the castle walls and still more soldiers advanced. He searched for his father, for his family’s flag. He noticed day breaking in the distance, a kind of relief flooding his senses, once the sun was up, he would find his father in the masses, find he was pushing the invaders back. As the sun rose Armin could see the decimated village in the distance, still searching his hope waned, relief and hope turning to the heartache of reality. His chest tightened and the lump in his throat was hard to swallow, he squeezed, the only tears he would allow, from his eyes took a single deep breath before he took off running. He heard his mother’s panicked voice shouting his name followed quickly by the soldiers ordering he be grabbed but Armin was light and quick footed. And he knew the way well. Like a blur he made it over the turret bridge to the East turret where the slide rope was, with soldiers shouting, “Grab the boy” and his mother pained screaming “Armin” he jumped to the wall’s edge, grabbed hold of the leather strap handles, and slid from the turret to the mountain ridge. The sound of arrows whooshing cut the air, his mother’s voice fading into the distance. He landed on the ridge leaping into a run making his way to the cover of the forest. He knew better but turned for one last glimpse of his mother, he saw her collapse into the arms of one of the guard. It nearly broke him. Nearly, but not quite. He turned and ran through the thick forest up the side of the mountain.

He stopped just outside the mouth of the cave on the far side of the mountain, palms to knees he bent over to catch his breath. His mind racing and panic creeping in, what if this did not work, he let the thought come and go, he looked out over the valley as he entered the cave his heart still racing ,he sat, legs crossed, right palm over left in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath for a count of four, hold for a count of four, out for a count of four and again, he completed this pattern of breathing until he felt his heart calm, until he felt ‘it’ he called it the shift. When he opened his eyes, he gazed out at the violet sky showing through the mouth of the cave, he rose and walked to the edge of the mountain, the forest below was sparser, greener and the air brighter if that made any sense. To Armin it felt like a hum, breathing the air made him feel different, brighter was the word he would use to describe it. He walked to the very edge of the mountain, placed his thumb and middle finger between his lips and blew hard, a whistle ripping through the otherwise quiet valley quickly followed by the familiar sound of his greatest secret. From around the side of the mountain in the distance came soaring a fierce creature, one from the tales of his grandmother. Her black feathers slick to her massive body, glistening all the colors of the rainbow as the light shifted. Her expansive wings casting shadows on the valley below. She flew as though rolling in on waves, circling as she reached Armin, letting out a long caw in greeting to her young friend. She flapped her wings floating before him.

“I need your help” he began “my village is under siege, and I fear we will be overcome” his voice began to crack “I know you are not supposed to...” he faltered “I know I am supposed to keep your secret... but I did not know what else to do” he fought back the tears, the fear, the confusion “please, I’m scared” he finally admitted.

She flew in another circle before him and came to a familiar position, Armin knew it well, he carefully took his position on her back between her wings where he held on tightly, she took flight soaring above the valley letting out another caw. The wind whipped through Armin’s hair, pushing tears from the corners of his eyes, he used the heal of his palm to wipe them dry.

As Armin and his dragon rounded one last circle in the valley, he saw her siblings joining them in the distance, from between the two mountains, where, in his world, the castle took space. Each falling into line and picking up speed behind them. Armin took a deep breath for a count of four, held it and released in the familiar pattern as they one by one flew into the mouth of the cave. Armin felt the telltale tingle and just like that they exited into his world. Armin and his seven dragons entered the battle.