Book of Dragon

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. I recall about a hundred and five years ago when I was a foolish lad in a small village where the air was pure and clean. With no sightings of a single blasted dragon; then again, dragons were just simple stories to dissuade children from becoming too adventurous.

Dear reader, you are going to witness first-hand accounts of me rambling on about my origins and my coming about to where I’m today. I’m a much older and possibly wiser man than in my younger days, so do forgive me if I don’t sound completely academic. I possess a greater amount of knowledge from my experience throughout my erratic existence and being taught about life from my mercenary-first mentor, can betroth intelligence with idiocy. From his teachings, I began to evolve into a man and earned my living. I’m writing this now in my humbly deserved Blackstone Keep, which I’d built for the House of the Dragon Fighters. I’m Garen Fausli, the first of my name, leader of the house. This journal will be my portrait, my anamnesis for when I’m gone or worse; when my memory fails me.

It was before my nineteenth summer and I had yet to develop any sense of greater aspiration. Due to my upbringing, I carried on being uneducated and dumb because of my lifeless attitude and my relationship with the community in the valley. I tried to keep to myself, even rarely talking to my few friends and family. I was neither an outstanding nor a brilliant child from the flock in the village. However, I can sensibly claim to be a shrewd shadow and an excellent pathfinder; because I proudly have a superior recollection of places that I’d previously visited. Particularly in the location where I thought I was born. A modest but immensely isolated, self-proclaimed Valley called Ananke.

Ananke was surrounded by an abundance of towering pine trees, about 10 storeys tall and stayed green throughout all of the seasons. They were guarded by steep, frosted tipped mountains towards the North-East and South-West. Both I reckon were respectively over thirty miles away from the village in each direction. Placing the village almost perfectly in the centre of the valley. It also appeared that in the distance the ends of both mountains were curved in and connected, forming a sharp oval shape. Gaining a different name by us local folks, the eye of Jupiter; in honour of the god himself. The village which I lived in since my infancy was situated on a stream that flowed from a calm waterfall on the northern mountainside, which we could see from the entrance of the town market. That stream led to a wide symmetrical lake. We simply just called it ‘the lake’, because there was no other that we needed to know or had access to with ease. It’s the place where we would catch our food and occasionally hunt white-tailed deers that were caught resting nearby. Noticing now: what a misery it was that we didn’t taste the expansive and exotic foods outside the valley, what a pity it was for the rest of the villagers not to experience anything else beyond the mountains, what a dreadful night it was for them all to die in a strike by that hideous dragon and foulest of them all, Saivius.

That night shan’t be forgotten no matter how hard I try and wish to do so. It’s etched into my dreams and strikes me awake on occasions during my slumber. Flashes of fire kept on appearing in my vision of the past. A reminder of how I began and the might of dragons, they leave an unerasable mark. Legends had foretold the reclamation of this world by the dragons will one day come; but like everyone, as they matured from their infancy, expected the prophecy to be simply a scare stratagem to keep children from becoming venturesome and leaving the valley or the bosoms of their mothers. It was always said by the elders, that on the outer edge of the mountains there lay an idle dragon. Laying in wait for a child of the valley to go afar and to be butchered and eaten by it. To my knowledge, no one but me left Ananke and escaped Saivius’ evils on that night.

That horrible night began as all nights did for me. My careless and beautiful mother of mine returned home with a different man. Both were too intoxicated to notice me sneaking away to gaze at the stars and do other, somewhat, unlawful things. I believe mother thought of me, her only child, to be a fornicator like her; rather, manipulating women in the dead of the night to have intercourse for money. Little did she know that her only child was somewhat a proficient thief, only for a hobby at that time. Stealing only insignificant or minor items, later hiding the goods away until nightfall then laundering them away to a shifty travelling fence, only when she would come around from outside the valley to do exactly that. I would like to boast that I, perhaps alone, boosted the village’s economy; as I would later find out when I studied economy. I then would do my favourite thing of all things; stargaze the rest of the night alone, a purely blissful experience it was. It made me feel like my life was meaningless and I had nothing to worry about, which may sound negative but when responsibility provides meaning for you, that is when you shall notice the value of living a simple life. As absurd and amusing as it’s, maybe that’s the story that she invented and told herself to explain why there’s always a heavy-looking pouch beside my bed in the morning. On that night I never reached my stockpile of stolen goods.

On my route to the loot, I felt an odd change in the air as if there was a flaming furnace nearby still burning whatever’s left inside. On that clear night, I slowly gazed up to witness the glamorous moon reflecting the sunlight which made my surroundings glow. Except my vision and surroundings were disturbed. Within my peripheral vision and in a state of shock and awe, I saw a great dark beast soaring through the cloudless night sky. The body of the beast was the length and size of a longhouse whilst its tattered wings were as wide as three carriages combined. It was resonating its intense heat wherever it travelled, I felt it swipe my head as it flew over me. I stood there baffled and amazed as it delved towards the village, exhaling a blaring roar, a sound that can barely be conveyed by words or even mimicked.

All of the continents must’ve heard this bawl as if it was making a statement upon the world. Fear me. The roar was then followed by almost long bolts of blinding fire that flashed every single time when it erupted from its mouth and hailed down like meteorites; landing with devastation and engulfing whatever it could. I heard the screams and cries of the people of Ananke, from the fire that was emanating from the village that was completely overwhelmed in absolute flames, whilst observing in utter fear. The dragon swiftly flew around and effortlessly spewed fire on everything human-made. It was as if Saivius had only one objective, complete chaos and decimation; but nowadays we know it to be known for its deception and destruction. But then again, as observed by people close to the valley. Saivius just had one objective; as to how my mentor would describe it, pure gorgeous chaos.

I was already on the path to my stash, strategically located for when I’m caught thieving so I had some things to take along with me when I escaped from the grasps of the bailiffs. Thankfully that was the first and maybe the greatest idea I had in my young idiotic life. My stash was located near the unexplored Southern path, which at that time I thought would lead to the edge of the valley. From my comfortable stroll to complete shock, I gathered myself and decided to run away to my loot box and leave everyone I’d known behind. So I hurried towards my stuff and without a thought quickly dug with my bare hands then tugged out the wooden box from the soil: took a beautifully sharpened, double-edged dagger, that I once stole from a noble’s room in a display cabinet, and threw around my shoulder a small sack that was currently containing small amounts of coins, and a stolen miniature bust of Empress Hattriana that was stolen from the same nobleman's house. This would’ve come in greater use if I hadn’t thrown that away later on. I had everything ready, but I made a regrettable mistake. I looked back.

Bare in mind reader, I had no love for my so-called mother, she even admitted that she didn’t care for me a couple of times when she was a lucid drunk. She also once claimed my father was a traveller over the mountains from the Sand Kingdoms, but when she’s drunk she always seems to claim fables. Therefore I had no obligation to return to Ananke, as I still say to myself. Then again, what could I possibly have done if I turned around and went back? Fight a dragon with my fists that were leagues above in the sky? Save my mother, with a man on top of her, from the fire if she didn’t notice what was going on, or wasn’t already sizzled to death? I wasn’t the smartest but I wasn’t a fool, I’d simply perish if I had returned. I didn’t feel this though at that moment.

It was as if there was a sunset during the dead of night, that the sky was bleeding from darkness to fire. It was because of the complete decimation of the place that I once claimed to be my home. My eyes had begun watering, and half of my vision became blurred. I felt as if my heart had dropped from my body and my stomach was disappearing. I started to remember the small things that I had once forgotten from my youth. My mischievous friends, a deaf lass that I was once kind to and might of had an affection for, my uncles who taught me for fun how to pick a lock and stick to the shadows, and… those single moments when my mother would lull me to sleep with her sweet hymns. All of these people are now gone forever and I felt deep regret for something that I, to this day, still can’t place my finger on. Pushing that regret down even deeper, I turned towards the dipped pitch-black entrance of the path into the forest.

I began readying myself to go to the unknown, taking deep breaths and energising myself by jumping a few times. I launched myself into the forest and kept on sprinting whilst avoiding obstacles on my path that could trip me or place me unconscious. I only saw a few glimpses of light that found gaps from the closely-knit tree tops, which assisted me in my escape. My vision started to dim as I was getting further and further away from the burning village. My heart began to calm itself, and I was able to control my breathing better. I felt excited and free, almost getting safely away from all the chaos. So I slowed down to gain a better grasp of my surroundings, remembering certain things that could help me if I got lost. Then that was interrupted by another blaring roar from Saivius as it flew by me going ahead. It made me think it was going to wait for me in the end. Like it was hunting me down exclusively or it was finishing off any survivors, eradicating all remnants of human life in the valley. That interruption had me panicking, so I scattered around off the path in a direction of darkness. Until I spotted a dot of light in the distance. “People?” I whispered to myself at that moment. I had thought that no one lived beyond the village in the valley, that all the people in between the mountains lived in one singular place.

Nevertheless, I chose that small light as my destination. Surely, I thought to myself, these people haven’t been targeted or noticed by Saivius; they could help me if actual humans were living there. Going closer to the light I distinguished that it wasn’t a home or a shack, but was an entrance to a dimly lit cave. I had to decide at that moment to go further into the unknown or take my chance out in the forest and keep on running to nowhere. An obvious choice would be to enter the cave, as it would be possible that the dragon wouldn’t be able to follow nor fit through. So I went in without any fear, as the fear behind me was greater.

The cave was cold and reeking of rotten meat. There was a torch every forty steps, sometimes walking through complete darkness to get to the other light. As I walked through the rugged entrance of the cave, it began to become an odd cave. Odd as in it didn’t feel like it was a cave; it felt like I was walking on a flat surface. The placement of the torches began to show patterns on the walls, with markings of straight lines going up and diagonally outwards. With hexagonal stone patterns on the floor. It felt like I was in an unnatural cave made by people. But now as I write this journal, I know it was my first time going through an ancient Dwarven structure. My younger self didn’t know nor appreciated the works of the once, great and now ancient giant Dwarves that used to roam these lands. They once used to build not only on top of things, like we humans do but from things that were already there. A cliff wall would be transformed into towns and cities. But I know now that all Dwarves are extinct, unfortunately, due to my species going to battle in ancient wars with them. It’s wondrous to think that they were technologically advanced and greater in population compared to us. Yet we humans are determined, too much so from professional experience; or is that rude to think when comparing oneself with another intellectual species. In that cave turned structure I began to hear sounds of pain coming from ahead.

I was reluctant to go any further but I needed to know where I was and somewhere to sleep, as well as a place to rest and get warm. I had to investigate that noise, was it some wild beast or was it an injured person. The latter was true. Investing I stumbled on a rugged looking man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood. The uncontrolled flame from the torches would dim inconsistently, making it difficult to see what happened to him or his face. “You fucking bounty hunters will get the butchering that you lot deserve!” He said with a raspy voice. I replied with nothing but disgusted and confused with the situation that I was in. A quick and solemn voice came from the shadows, “That message was for me mate.” Then another man appeared from the darkness.

This man was different though, he appeared dignified; wearing dark tight leather clothing. Holding a bloodied blade in one hand and a piece of cloth in the other, whipping down the blade whilst looking me up and down. I couldn’t clearly see his face due to the lighting but I’m sure he had a proud smirk on his face. He stood there calmly and claimed, “You don’t look like a fucking mug, and I was told that there’ll be twelve bandits to eliminate. I executed all twelve, you’re an anomaly mate.” I noticed his voice would go from a deep monotone to a deeper tone and he would slow down the pronunciation of his words towards the end of each comment he made. This man was like a man I’d never encountered before. I didn’t fear him nor did I like him, but maybe it was because I was coming from a greater fear that I momentarily forgot, Savius. With my dry exhausted throat and husky voice I startled my response, “I.. come from Ananke… de etire ve… the entire village is in flames… I ke… I ran and kept on running… found this place… no clue where I am.” With a struggling gulp, “Could you please… could you help me please?” The man nodded his head with confirmation and I presented an expression of relief. Notice reader, I was reserved about the idea of telling him about the dragon. He may not have believed me and taken me as a fool or might have not helped at all; I would be dead within two nights if he didn’t help at all.

The man shook his head back over his shoulder, “Follow me then and take what you need from these lot, they won’t need it.” Probably smirking again as he turned around, “The dead won't be needing these and no one else is around to cry you as a looter. Lad, now listen here. You’ll follow me to the entrance of this place, where I entered from and then I’ll point to you the nearest town from here; and we’ll be off in our own directions. As I would be needed to go back in the other direction to the steward with the head of the leader of this so-called bandit gang. And I don’t need a boy to slow me down, you look capable enough, let’s hope you’re not incompetent.” I followed on and asked out of curiosity, “So I’m assuming you’re a mercenary, what be your name, and where’s the nearest town, and who’s the steward, and what did these lot do anyways, oh and did you hear a loud roar?” He sighed and replied, “I will only answer one of those questions, kid. My name is Lokmar Fausli. So shut up now and I’ll do all the needed talking from now on. Or else I’ll just fucking gut you and no one know shit what happened to you, village boy.” I remained quiet and listened to what was to come. And yes reader, I took the name Fausli as my own; to honour my mentor and commemorate all that he had taught me. Neither of us knew at that time that I would soon become Lokmar’s mentee. This meeting was to start my life. From there on I grew, experienced and lived through laughter, hardships and unbelievable odds. This initiated my beginnings.