Billows and Flame

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.

For centuries, the Valley was the home of my people. It was the Kingdom of Vernara’s stronghold, where the humble capital, Fons, and its people made a good living off of the lush farmlands the Valley provided. The Kingdom of Vernara was a small one, but a mighty one, too. My family have lived and ruled here since the kingdom and its capital were founded many years ago. I can name all of the families who reside in Fons, what their relationships are to one another, and what each of them sells in the market. I have grown up alongside their children, purchased their wares from the stalls in town, sat at my parents’ side in the receiving hall of our castle as they brought their worries to us, and one day, I will be their queen. I love my kingdom, and I love its citizens. Even if it were not my duty, I could not imagine a life more well-lived than serving these people.

The Valley is our home; the only one we’ve ever known since our ancestors settled the land several centuries ago. We are a tight-knit community who rely on this land for our well-being and the livelihood of our kingdom. The Valley is my family’s to defend and protect, with our lives if the price is ever that high. The Valley is Vernara’s jewel, its legacy–its salvation.

Of course, before the Valley was ours, it did belong to the dragons.

✴

Three hundred years ago, the dragons ruled the Valley. They were a blight upon the land, devouring its many resources faster than they could be replenished. The fields and grasses were patchy and mostly weed-ridden. The topsoil had begun to dry up the moment the dragons drank the stream feeding the Valley dry, and the wildlife native to the area fled soon after. The dragons didn’t need the Valley to be bustling with life–there were plenty of lands and settlements close enough for them to pillage when they were hungry.

Those many years ago, a group of nomads who had stayed together after the fall of their kingdom chose to band together and take the Valley from the dragons. They saw the land for what it could become for them: a city protected on three sides by the Viperan Mountain Range, with a stream flowing down from Mt. Húdra to the north that would feed the grasslands over time and bring the Valley back to its green splendor. There was also easy access to the Viridans Sea to the south, through the Valley, which would allow their fledgling city to trade easily with neighboring merchants and settlements. They knew that over time the wildlife would return as well, and they could make a home for themselves there; build a new kingdom from the ashes of what the dragons left behind.

They knew it wouldn’t be easy, driving a thunder of dragons out of their lair, but they had accumulated a sizable number of weapons when escaping the fall of their former kingdom, and they had untapped access to the one thing that could weaken the dragons: water. The dragons’ deadliest weapons were their talons and their ability to breathe fire. The talons were dealt with easily enough using swords and shields. The clan were mostly concerned about how to defeat the dragons when they could burn everyone to cinders with one great breath.

My seven-greats-grandmother, Cordelia, was gifted in a way which no one at the time knew about, save her husband. She would have been burned at the stake for her gift had word gotten out in their former kingdom, so the secret was always kept within her family. It had died with them, too, when their old kingdom fell. It was only then that my ancestral grandmother shared her secret with her husband, and in time, with the group of nomads she came to call family. Cordelia was one of the Unda, able to bend water to her will. To drive them out, she could conjure a bulwark of water the dragons could not penetrate with their fire, and heal the cracked streambed bringing life back to the Valley.

Cordelia and her clan carefully formulated their plan of attack, and using my ancestor’s power drawn from the great Viridans at their backs, conquered the Valley. It wasn’t without loss. Cordelia’s husband was slain in the battle, cut down by a rogue talon in the last moments before the dragons accepted their watery defeat. In her rage, Cordelia was so fierce with her final billow that she drove the dragons all the way to the highlands in the far north, deep into the unclaimed territories. There they have remained.

Until now.

✴

I suppose we always knew that the dragons might return to the Valley one day. There is a reason that my ancestors chose to name their kingdom Vernara, to honor the people who fought and won the land in the height of spring, while keeping the names of the Viperan Mountain Range and Mt. Húdra the same. They were to serve as a reminder of who occupied these lands before they were conquered; a reminder of who might return one day, seeking vengeance for what had been taken from them.

Because Cordelia’s power as an Unda was the deciding factor in the battle with the dragons, the clan named her, forevermore, Cordelia Verdux, leader of the spring, Queen of Vernara. They crowned her the ruler of their infant kingdom at the base of Mt. Húdra, and over time she found that her heart would open again to a fellow member of the clan, eventually bringing forth an heir. The first generation of clan members passed over to the shadow-side, and the secret of the Unda was once again carried to the graves of all but the members of the Verdux family. With each new generation, the powers of the Unda ebbed. I was born with nothing more than the ability to barely control the incessant dripping of the faulty tap in the castle’s kitchens. What a shame.

I am Ellowyn Verdux. I was a princess when the dragons stormed the Valley on a fine spring day just a fortnight ago, intent on reclaiming what was once theirs. Now, I am the young Queen of Vernara–or whatever is left of it now that the dragons have pushed us nearly to the Viridans Sea–trying desperately to care for my people in the wake of all that has been taken from us. My parents are gone. My home is gone. Is this how the dragons felt three hundred years ago?

What is left of the Valley is once again a barren expanse of land, a scar gouged through the Viperans. I can feel an almost identical scar carving its way through my heart. What an ugly set we make.

✴

I stand at the edge of the water, twisting my ring apprehensively around my finger; my nervous habit, my mother used to call it, with love in her eyes and a worried furrow between her brows as she contemplated how much rested on my shoulders as the sole heir to the Vernaran throne.

Glancing down at the ring now, it’s the only thing that I feel still connects me to my parents; conversely, I want to hurl into the sea so far that it is swept away, never to be seen again. It is a miniature replica of the seven-spoked crown that…well, that I suppose is mine now. It belonged to my father until the dragons took him from me. I cherished this ring growing up, insisting on wearing it even when my fingers were far too small, and it was too loose on me. It’s a miracle I never lost it.

I slip it off of the middle finger on my left hand now, taking it from where it has lived every day for almost ten years. I weigh it heavily in the palm of my right hand, contemplating what I might do with it now that it is equal parts pain and longing for me.

“I really wouldn’t pitch it out to sea if I were you. I hear that the Viridans merpeople can put curses on the humans who are foolish enough to give their possessions to the sea so willingly.” Kane speaks from behind me, approaching quietly enough that I startle at his sudden appearance.

He’s so quiet–that’s the main reason why my parents appointed him to my personal guard three years ago. He can trail me without being a nuisance, and he can trail those who may threaten to harm me so they never see him coming. Not that I can’t take care of myself, but it is nice to know that someone is always watching my back.

“Ah, you know I could never truly bear to part with it,” I say, clutching my fist around the ring so tightly that the spokes press deeply into the palm of my hand, leaving marks. “But I did muse over how far I could throw it for about a minute or so,” my mouth quirks up in a small smile that fades from my face just as fast as it appeared.

“Any news from camp?” I ask, once again slipping the ring back onto my finger and twisting it around as I turn to face him. He marks the action with his green eyes that miss nothing.

“Nothing new, which I suppose is good for now. People are starting to get hungrier now that food supplies are running low, but there’s enough spears left that we should be able to catch some fish for dinner,” he says, sounding so calm–so rational.

Kane has always been so level-headed, the calm within the storm. It seems even dragons attacking our homeland, destroying Fons and the castle we called home, and taking out more than half of our kingdom’s population couldn’t ruffle his feathers. I envy his cool demeanor. Where he is ice, I am fire, constantly storming around our base camp in a rage, plotting a very painful revenge for the dragons. It’s the reason Kane is one of my closest friends, in addition to being a member of my guard–he grounds me when I’m seeing red. It was actually at his suggestion that I came out to the sea’s edge this afternoon; he could tell that I needed to walk off some of my latest anger. I might be a young queen–just twenty this spring–but that doesn’t mean I can’t rein in my temper when what my people need to see is a confident and clear-headed leader.

“I’m thinking of ways we can win the Valley back, you know,” I announce as I loop my arm through Kane’s, steering us back toward our make-shift settlement. It is strategically nestled in the last of the trickling forest of the Viperan range before it gives way to the rocky beach of the Viridans. The dragons don’t bother us here; it’s far too close to the water.

“And?” he asks. His sharp eyes sweep our surroundings as we set off, always marking signs of danger and all possible escape routes.

“It’s still too soon to share anything tangible, but I think I’m going to spend more time by the water. It centers me,” I respond with a sigh, glancing back over my shoulder at the shoreline.

It’s true that the water centers me and brings me clarity, but I also feel more capable standing at the sea’s edge. I can feel its power roaring through my veins, and it gives me hope that perhaps the Viridans is strong enough to restore my pitifully diluted Unda powers. Perhaps with enough practice, I could one day wield its force the way Cordelia did so many centuries ago, and reclaim the Valley for my people once more. The daughter of the sea, reincarnated.

“Well, when the time is right, I do hope you’ll share your retaliatory plans with me, your highness,” Kane smirks as we make it back into the protection of the camp. The sounds of people bustling about bring me a shred of comfort in this great nightmare.

“You’ll be the first to know,” I smile while sliding away to see to my people, the sound of the distant waves crashing on the beach following me deeper into camp.

✴

Our hubris once led us to believe we could vanquish the dragons. No one knows where they originated from, but now that they have returned, I must find a way to save Vernara from their terror. Should I fail, they will surely be here long after the Vernarans are forgotten, wreaking havoc on those who remain.

For now, I hold to the faith that I will be made stronger by the sea.

And I hope the dragons are ready for a wrathful queen.