Brother

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

Our parents came to the Valley in the early days of their union. Tales of fertile lands and wealthy life brought them to the Valley, where a bustling Town thrived season after season. Farmers produced steady crops and merchants had the finest of fabrics. Its success came from a sheltered life, nestled between the Twins as they affectionately called the steep mountain range walling the town. Tall slopes of evergreen woods, topped with a layer of snow, occasionally spitting flurries, rudely shifted by eastern winds. They stood guard from invaders, storms, and all evil that lurked outside. On one end of the Valley, the Narrow Pass, allowing the river to trickle through, widening as it twists and turns through the forest, sometimes placid as a mirror, sometimes furious and wild. It cuts our town in half and opens wide into a wide sandy bay, often visited by trading vessels from across the sea. Our Town shone amongst the greenery. Humble homes, painted in white or yellow, used to reflect the sunlight across miles, a beacon of warmth and safety. Winding cobbled streets, overseen by wooden balconies, each bore lovingly carved bannisters a joint effort between the family that inhabits the home.

Our parents settled here and the were immediately embraced by the Town's lucky aura. My father's metal work skills from the outside quickly made him a valuable smithy and my mother's pottery was a success among the households. They also reaped the fruitful benefits of the land and not too long after settling I was born.

Life was good and the Town expanded. Some smaller settlements appeared throughout the Valley itself, and my father took the opportunity to become a travelling worker, sharpening knives and axes, selling horseshoes, fixing what he could on the road, gate latches, oven doors, whatever was needed.

Every day, the memories of my childhood guide me, fill me with the hope that things can back to how it was - learning my parent's trades, swimming in the river and basking in the sun. We were blessed.

When my brother was born he was received with joy and love, regardless of his leg. he was born with a weak leg, thinner and smaller. The town's healers prescribed several remedies to be applied as he grew, but none took effect. Despite it all, no one ever looked at him or spoke differently of him. He knew what his difference meant, but kept pushing, walking further than he should, lifting more than he could and over the years a lame leg became almost unnoticeable. To the naked eye, you couldn't tell it was shorter but when he walked you would tell something was amiss, a noticeable limp. It never stopped him from being a success among his peers, especially the girls. Where his leg was limp he was given good looks, a cheeky smile and a good sense of humour. "It's you and me, Roost." I used to say. "It's you and me, Chick" he used to respond. This was our promise. No matter where life took us, as long as we were together neither would fail nor break.

Life was good and we were happy.

The first disappearance wasn't taken too seriously. A loner, didn't speak with many, worked as a woodsman. He was old and although efforts were made to find him, assumptions had to be made that something had befallen him whilst out gathering. The best wood can be found on the mountain slopes and it can only take a small stumble to fall hundreds of meters, hitting rocks and other trees.

The second disappearance was more concerning. The Town hardly had any crime, so this was an oddity in such a small space of time. This time it was a young woman, who travelled between the Town and one of the other smaller settlements. A day passed before a search party was sent, in case she had just been delayed. She was never found and her husband went mad with grief. Even after it was assumed some woodland beast had attacked her, he carried on roaming the woods, continuously shouting her name, day and night.

The third disappearance was the final straw. A little child snuck away from the backyard whilst her mother was carrying chores. Off into the woods, it was assumed, and given the current events, no hope was kept alive. The entire town conducted a search but no tracks, no body or blood was ever found, it was as if the little girl never existed. Lost in maddening grief her parents pushed for searches to continue longer and longer. Eventually, people moved on, and the desperate parents came to terms. They left the Valley with all their possessions, leaving a little rag doll in their window, a memory of what was lost, but never forgotten. And so much more was lost.

First, there were rumours, and fantastical stories brought from local travelling merchants, no different from father. A shadow momentarily blocked the sun. Destroyed trees blocking roads. Strange sounds growing from crevices and caves. Most dismissed them as bait for customers, attracted by the rumour only to be sold produce when intertwined in mystical daydreams. Others laughed and told the merchants to lay off the cheap wine.

No one was laughing when the old shepherd stumbled through the pub nearest the forest edge, pale as chalk and shaking.

"Monster! Daemon!" Eyes darting around the room, frantically looking for a safe haven. "Great Lizard from the depths! Run!"

The pub matron approached and held his bony hands "Calm yourself, what happened?" Her eyes noticed, as did many others, the dark blood caked in his coat.

"They are all gone, dead."

"Who is gone, who is dead?"

"My heard, killed every single one - and ate none. Evil beast!"

"Was it a wolf, a bear?" The matron locked eyes with a couple of hunters, pausing their drinks and ready to engage.

"No mam, if only. T'was a Dragon. Saw it myself, a great ugly thing, coated in scales and spikes, it hacked and slashed and smashed. My poor dearies, what will I do now...?" And with this he laid his head on his hand, sobbing.

The hunters stood up and agreed to investigate, one by one each comforted the old shepherd, placing a hand on his skinny shoulder as they left the pub.

They found a bloodbath on the field. The animals had been mauled, slashed, crushed. No bear nor wolf could have done it. As described, the entire flock was slain, but not eaten. Even the land was marred, an upheaval of dirt and grass, as if an enormous plough had been aimlessly swung across the field.

They cautiously approached the edge of the forest, faces in shock as the woods had been parted, ancient trees broken as easily as toothpicks. Something very large had made its way through, very quickly. The hunters decided not to pursue and instead returned to Town with haste – a lot more men were going to be needed, and everyone had to be warned.

The disappearances started to explain themselves, and a group of fifty men was assembled – hunters, former army men, and a few young stags looking for excitement. Armed with weapons older than any living Townsperson, they made their way to the killing site.

The day was clear as they made their way through the broken woods. The trail led to an abrupt halt, on the edge of a deep crevice, known to the locals as Lover's Loss. Legend had it that on certain days, if standing close enough to the edge, someone can hear their lover's whispers from within. It had claimed one or two lives, usually someone who had lost a loved one, lured by the cave's whispers and trickles. One step too close and one was lost - the steep smooth walls covered in moss made it impossible to descend so no one was ever recovered - even if they had survived the fall.

Where the mossy walls used to stand, claw marks were visible from a distance. Large claw marks.

The group surrounded the gaping abyss, not so close that they could be grabbed. Shields in hand and semi-sharp spears, everyone stood in utter silence. Gard, an old war veteran, one of the few that had left the Valley and come back, gripped his spear and hit it against the shield.

"Let's lure this out"

Hit his shield once more. And again. A war beat, defying, encouraging. Fifty others joined in, a chorus of metal and wood, in unison. Quicker and quicker. Shouts and curses followed, a display of fearlessness, come out and death will follow. One final scream from Gard silenced all.

Silence.

Moments passed and the men began to wonder if the creature was even there, but only wondered for a short while.

Something none had heard before, ten times louder and fiercer than any mountain lion or bear, echoed through the cave's twisted walls. The ground shook beneath their feet and for the first time, a shadow of doubt crossed the men's eyes.

"Stand your ground, this is a mere cattle killer!"

A steady thud was approaching, crawling from below, a mixture of rage and broken stone. A claw appeared from the dark, as big as a horse, and buried its talons on the edge, the ground barely holding.

Terror incarnate followed. A large reptilian head followed, spike lined jaw and brows, teeth as big as a grown man's forearm. Covered in dark brown scales, contrasted by golden cat-like eyes. No one had ever seen anything like it, but everyone knew it was not happy. The men backed away, as the creature dragged its enormous body from within. It gained some balance on the edge and began to stretch its wings. Larger than any sail the men had seen.

It stared at them, and they stared at it.

A deep breath and all hell broke loose. The dragon screeched as it made a straight line for the nearest men.

It was large and strong, but it was clumsy and appeared unable to fly. It smashed trees and people, clawed and hacked. Some men fled, and some stayed. Led by Gard, the remainder grouped, and fought, fought so hard. Strategically retreating to the forest edge gave them an advantage, and a slight element of surprise. With each tree destroyed by its body, it grew tired and injured. Although it had a natural armour, its underbelly and neck underside appeared fragile as cuts and scrapes were visible. Such an impressive being, but somehow behaved like a newborn, unaware of its own abilities. As it got worn, it began retreating towards the cave's edge. The men huddled, shield to shield and anchored spears, and inched closer and closer. The Dragon's back feet edged too close and the ground gave in. It clawed the ground and managed to not fall completely back into the hole, but now it was at eye level with the men. Gard stared it down for a moment, then ran at full speed, this time with a sword in hand. It was a morbid dance as the creature attempted to bite him, whilst holding on, and Gard hacked and slashed at its face with no mercy. It was futile, as the creature's head was also covered in scales. Then again, that was never the plan.

As Gard danced with the beast, the neck became exposed and a couple of the men found their way through the thrashing. Before anyone knew it, all was quiet again. The Dragon stopped, as red a pool formed beneath the enormous head. The men had slashed the creature's neck and blood was gushing. Gurgled breaths filled the silence as it laid its head on the ground. Claws relaxed and it began sliding down. Its eyes were growing paler. For a minute the beast looked as if pleading for help. It would find no aid in the battered men. They watched as it closed its eyes and fell into darkness, slamming against the rocky walls.

Fifty men left and twelve returned. Many who fled were never seen again - maybe due to fear, maybe due to shame.

This was not the last Dragon. As the Town recovered from the battle, more sightings were made. And people kept disappearing. Empty graves were mourned, and the once-bustling Town lost its shine. Most families had lost someone. People started spending their time indoors or focusing on their trade. The walls no longer shined, and the streets no longer laughed. Even the sun was colder.

I tried to remain calm throughout most of these events. Our family seemed to be blessed for a while as we were all still accounted for. It didn't last though.

One day, whilst our father was out, I heard my brother scream from the garden. As I ran towards him, he limped to me, tears streaming down his face and raw panic in his eyes. "MUM!"

I looked past him, past the open back door and into our little back garden. Among the bluebells and snowdrops, red. Lots of red, and we had no red flowers.

This was our first empty grave as no body was ever found.

Our father was not the same after that. Grew paler and thinner. His mind was scattered and lost. So when he disappeared, some believed heartbreak was the cause. Maybe he wandered the woods, same as the widower or was eaten by a Dragon as many others had. Speculation was lost on me. Regardless of the cause, my parents’ disappearance broke our family, and I had to step up for my brother. Food still had to be bought, smithing still had to be done. I took on my father's trade and my brother took my mother's, as I would need to travel the road and my brother's condition would be a hindrance, especially with the current situation. Where my father had been trading farming tools and household fixings, I was now trading weaponry and shields. My craft skill was green, but someone had to do it and after a few hundred attempts, I saw some improvements. Every little achievement was celebrated with my brother, no matter how small. We were together and we had to carry on.

My first journey terrified me. I didn't want another empty grave in our back garden. Staying wasn't safe, and leaving wasn't safe. We simply had to weather the storm until things got back to normal.

Unexpectedly, it was my first journey that truly opened my eyes. With a loaded cart and a fed pony, I set off to the very last settlement before the Narrow Pass.

My journey was initially quiet and I began to appreciate it as my father once did. The road offered mindlessness that was very much welcome. It almost seemed time had been reversed and there were no Dragons nor death. I was halfway through my journey when I spotted it, standing right in the middle of the path. Bright blue scales shone in the midday sun. It was slim and appeared to be calm. The scaled shimmer reminded me of when I visited the docks, and the light bounced off the waves. An illusion of a watery layer above its skin. The same golden eyes as every other Dragon spotted me and I froze. Somehow my pony didn't seem bothered or even acknowledged its presence. It was beautiful. Who knew something so terrifying could be so mesmerising.

Something caught its attention in the woods and casually strolled into the edge of the forest, faint flashes of blue disappearing into the distance.

That was only the first one I saw.

Soon, Dragons were seen in all corners of the valley. I remember a few instances in my travels. Although they instilled fear in the bravest heart, something was wrong. These were not the beasts of legend. All varying in size and colour, none seemed able to fly and most appeared to be lame of mind. I avoided their attention but curiosity kept me observing from the shadows.

I remember when I rode past the Northern Mill house - whose family had long vanished - and saw one of these scaly beasts forcing itself within through the walls. It thrust its body against the walls until some collapsed. It used fangs and claws to rip the ceiling. Surely this was a painful process and the property had been emptied for months. But it carried on until it had fully burrowed inside.

Another time I heard it from a distance. A small clearing not too far from the main road. Another mad creature, clawing at itself, chewing its own tail. Blood rushed covering its scales in a sickly crimson colour. It threw itself against rocks and trees and ripped its own wings. But the worst part was the wailing. Loud, piercing, from somewhere deep within. Could probably be heard for a few miles but it did not care. Wail after wail, not a call for help, just sheer...pain. Instead of fear, it filled me with sadness.

Whatever madness was taking these creatures it seemed to follow the same path. They would initially attack whatever property was near, no doubt in search of food. Then they would hunt the few remaining people they could find. They would claw at the victims, sometimes squash whoever was in their way. Although teeth were always flashed and magnificent roars would shake everyone's bones, they never appeared to bite their victims. The final stage was madness. Self-harm and wailing.

Some appeared to be rather tame and apathetic. On one of my most memorable journeys, I had to make camp for the night. The woods seemed more inviting than any clearings these days - offering shelter and disguise to any of these beasts that roamed at night. No fire was lit, I stowed the cart under an oak tree, and made my bed underneath it, for extra cover. I was blessed with an unusual peaceful night, making my morning discovery even stranger. As I crawled from underneath I spotted two bright yellow eyes staring from not too far. A few meters away, a long and pale dragon rested in the shade. It was so still I wondered if it had passed away. After the initial shock, I quietly stepped around the cart. It was very much alive as its eyes were following me. Curiosity once more took the best of me and I observed the creature - long and very pale, most of its scales had fallen off and the bones were protruding from under a thin translucent skin. It looked starved. It was quite large so I couldn't understand why it had snaked its way under the trees, surely it could not escape if attacked. Had it been there all night?

I finally made my way to the driver's seat and before I ushered my pony, I looked back at it once more. The gaze still hadn't left me. It let out a long breath and finally looked down, staring at the ground.

Maybe this is how it ends for them. Wasting away, slowly giving in, surrounded by woods. Not too bad, not all of us have the privilege of a peaceful death.

Almost a year passed after the Dragons came, and our Town was deserted. The Dragon swarm had closed in, taking the settlements one by one.

I had to stop travelling, as the Valley was no longer safe. Too many of them, even with all my sneaking.

I saw the error of my ways. I should have taken my brother out of here, through the Narrow Pass whilst the Dragon plague was still a small problem. It wasn't fair, this was our home and they were the invaders.

Now it was too late. We had to resort to farming our little garden and hunting close to the house. The Town was mostly empty. I'm not proud of it, but I had to scavenge and pillage shops for supplies. Once in a while, a face could be seen behind a window but that was the extent of our human contact.

As soon as it got dark, no candles were lit. At night you could hear them, wailing in the distance, or creeping through the streets at night. Breathing heavily outside our window. Quiet nights were a precious rarity. Most of our evenings were spent in silence, in the dark. Windows boarded shut. A small hole in one of the boards allowed a spec of moonlight through, lighting our room. I could see my brother gazing at the ceiling. I understood what he felt. Our life had been good and taken away, our family broken. How did everything go so wrong? How did we get here?

Throughout the long dark nights, we used the little light we had to learn how to communicate without sound. It started with some basic gestures, and eventually, we started having full conversations. A little something to help us bear with sleepless nights. Curiosity took the best of me a couple of times and I peered through the gaps in the wood into our back garden. The same blue dragon I saw a year ago was there. And it was there almost every night. Silent, staring at our garden and taking in its surroundings. Somehow it felt reassuring. If this was its "territory" maybe it would keep other, more dangerous beasts away.

We carried on, living this routine. I carried on perfecting my craft, ensuring we both had decent weapons should we need them. My brother embraced farming. Humans have an innate way of adapting to their environment, and as time went by, the fear also simmered away. We took our precautions, lived quietly and stayed safe.

One night my brother gestured "Can we go?"

"We can if you find a way through the hundreds of Dragons" I gestured back. Naturally we had found how to express sarcasm.

"There is more to life than this. I'm tired of living like a prisoner."

"I know, we just need to wait..."

"Enough waiting!" his gestures became fast and frustrated. "We will wait forever and die here, either eaten or old. And if we are still here when we are old I will kill you myself."

I held back a chuckle.

"Ok. Tomorrow, you start packing and I will scout"

"I can come with you"

I looked at his leg with a disapproving look.

"I need to make sure it's not too... crowded."

"Fine." he whispered as he turned his back to me.

I turned away from him as well, when he is on a strop best thing is to let him be.

Moments later I felt a light hug and smiled.

I made my way at the crack of dawn. The roads were clear of Dragons. Debrie cluttered every corner but that was our reality. Our colourful town was fading to grey, most buildings falling apart from either neglect or destruction. I followed the main road until I reached the woods. From that point onwards, walking in shadow was the only option. So far so good.

I trekked through the woods for half a day, avoiding and tallying each beast as best as I could. After about a half-day's journey I came across the first settlement, Biggen's Hamlet. There wasn't a house untouched, all in ruins. i hated stopping there but I needed some water and the river is too dangerous, too many lurk nearby. I hated coming here because of them. On what used to be the main house of the group, a dried decomposed dragon body laid on the ruins, as if it were a tossed puppet by a bored child. That wasn't the part that bothered me as I had seen my fair share. Its arms held another body, a human one. Also in an advanced state of decay. I called it the embrace, it was a moment frozen in time. The few that had seen it claimed it was evidence of their cruelty, trapping the victim till the very last moment. I, on the other hand, saw a gentle embrace, almost protective. But then again, I had been lucky with my encounters.

Something jolted me out of my introspective moment. At first, I couldn't quite tell what was it, but as I looked around and saw the cloud of dust over the Town, I knew. Dragons. My heart sank, I needed to get back.

I ran, as fast as my legs could take me, and it still took a good few hours to reach the Town's entrance. I had heard their noise from afar but I didn't care, there was only one thing on my mind.

As I am bee-lining my way home, the cause of all this made itself known. A medium-sized rock looking creature, its scales and skin were pitch black. Its eyes were boiling with anger as it spotted me. It was right between our home and myself. Ok let's get you moving - I turned around and boulted - fast enough to get it chasing, but not so fast he will lose me. Whatever it takes to get you away from home.

Wherever I ran, destruction was following as the beast chased relentlessly. It kept up with me, around every corner, every nook, and it seemed to have endless stamina whilst I didn't, especially after my quick return. I needed a plan. I just needed enough time to get back home and take my brother with me, away from this hell.

The cistern. I knew what to do. I turned left as the beast was catching up on me, left, right, straight on. And there it was, an old cistern that had been reinforced with metal on the outside, in order to protect our water access within the Town during these troubled times. As far as I had seen, none of these animals seemed to be great swimmers. As I shot through the door, I grabbed the handle of the great metal door and swung round, barely keeping my footing on the narrow ledge. The wild beast shot through the large doorframe only to realise there was a drop when it was too late.

"That should buy me some time" I whispered as I heard it thrashing in the water, even more enraged.

I bolted the door and swiftly made my way home, my mind praying over and over "Please be safe, please be safe".

As I turned the last corner, all life fled my veins. Our house was demolished. Complete destruction, not even the ground floor stood. Maybe he survived. I weakly made my way into the ruins with hope. Didn't last long though. Among the boulders, wood and fabric, blood. A lot of blood. I had seen this before, as I had held my brother and peered into our backyard. The strength that kept me going for years left me. I leaned on a wall and slid to the ground as my legs gave in. There is nothing left, no one left. What reason do I have to push forward?

It's over. I will never make it out alive, not without my brother to keep me going. For the first time, I let go of fear. I was ready to go.

An explosion in the distance confirmed the beast had muscled its way through the metal door. I could hear the snarling and thumping approaching. I was ready, over in a second is all I ask for. Then I can join my family.

I saw the black mountain of fury turn the same corner I had just stood in. Time seemed to slow down, I saw its muscles contracting as it ran, jaws opened in a continuous roar. Eyes fixed on me. It's ok, my time is over.

I closed my eyes and waited for the pain.

A thunder louder than anything I ever heard woke me from my accepted death. Whatever happened, I somehow was thrown a few meters away. Dazed and confused I looked around for the black beast. Through the dust I spotted it, it was still. The largest Dragon I had ever seen had pinned its throat under its claw and must have killed it when I was out. It was larger than any Townhouse. Four legs and tucked wings had horns all down its back, jaw and brows. If the size was impressive so was its colour. A vivid red, a likeness to a glowing ember at the end of a fire. It was possibly the most impressive one I had ever seen.

I came to my senses when it looked at me. The fear of death and the need to survive came rushing back in full force. RUN.

It blocked my path with its tail - this was not a lame local Dragon. This one was clever. I turned a right into the main street as it was one of the few streets unblocked by ruin remains. The chase was back on as I heard its breath and stomping growing behind me. Something was different though. It was chasing me, but not as fiercely as the others. As slowed down I heard it slow down. Until we both stopped and I turned. It was calm and collected. Maybe fifty meters away from me. We had locked eyes and had the same sort of connection as I felt with the blue Dragon, mutual respect.

However, nothing had prepared me for what came next. It began approaching me, and I halted mid-breath. It's not possible, it can't be.

It limped.

Not just any limp. A limp I had grown up seeing every day.

There used to be people in the Valley. And there will be again, I promise you, brother.