Dragon Legends

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.

Some days the great beasts patrolled the vast skies above, sunlight glinting blindingly off their metallic scales as they soared effortlessly over the ridges of the surrounding mountain tops. Other days they drifted lazily in the rivers and streams that slashed through the Valley, knowing that not a single creature had the courage to confront them, even in their leisurely state. Today however, was a different day, a special day. While most days the dragons were seen in handfuls at a time, if they were seen at all, that was clearly not the case on this day. Today, the great muscled beasts appeared throughout the Valley incessantly. Diving from behind clouds only to land softly just in front of the tree line, looking around to see if anyone had noticed their dramatic appearance. Slowly revealing themselves from a perch they had long been occupying, as if by magic they had appeared out of thin air. Or emerging by other means from the depths of the earth or surrounding water in some over dramatic fashion as if to one-up their many other predecessors. No matter how elaborately they all appeared, each and every one of them waded in to the tree line, anxiously gathering in the Valley’s dense forest of ancient trees.

The heat their bodies created rolled off them in the form of thick, warm steam that filled the region. From a distance it appeared as if mist had settled into the deep Valley, clinging to the rocks as well as all the living creatures and plants in the surrounding area, refusing to give an inch of ground even to a stern gust of wind. Those who were unfortunate enough to breath in the misty air found their sense of smell being violently assaulted by the putrid odor that the dragons’ body heat produced. As if millennial old rot and decay had blended with wet hay and muddy earth. It was a wretched smell that threatened to bring that mornings’ meal of day old bread and fruit to the ground before Kaylith. Pressing the strip of cloth she had tied around her face to her nose in a vain attempt to ease the foul odor seeping out of the heavily wooded Valley from its assault on her sense of smell, Kaylith continued to work the earth before her. All year, she thought, they had gone all year without so much as a hint of such a gathering of those rotting, scaled monsters. And now, on such a perfect day as this, those disgusting creatures had arrived.

Kaylith was not about to voice such atrocious thoughts. Verbalizing any negative thought towards the dragons was highly forbidden and severely punished. And really, it wasn’t the dragons she loathed, it was the freedom they represented that sent her mind roiling with unwelcome thoughts aimed precisely at the beasts. The freedom to roam wildly over the earth, seeking new lands, new people, and most importantly, new adventures. Being far beyond the reach of those wishing to harm you and yet having the power to protect yourself if you needed to. Though she herself had never known more harm than that of a hard day’s work having split her hands open from blisters or misused tools, Kaylith had also never known what inner fortitude was required to forge a warrior. She longed to know what drove ordinary people to become legendary weapons masters worthy of decades, or even centuries’ old songs being sung blaringly during festivals named after themselves. How had fate braided their tears and pain in to metal and strength? How had they defeated their fears and raced toward certain death with clarity of heart and mind? Most importantly, could she, a lone villager living an unremarkable life, entirely overshadowed by the grandeur that the dragons embodied, become someone extraordinary? Did fate have a plan for her to somehow break through this mediocre life to become someone noteworthy?

At this point, Kaylith would settle for being a supporting character in any story. Her life truly was a simple existence, one with simple needs, hard work, and very little rest. If truth be told, she should be more grateful that today was not only a beautiful day, but an eventful one as well. It was rare that anything, including nearly cloudless days, ever stumbled across the small village she lived in. A minor side effect of having the dragons’ protection from outside forces. Not that their protection wasn’t well received, especially since the village had been spared many gruesome battles between warring nations and beasts alike, but it did come with some peculiar consequences. Just to name a few, the villagers had unusually long lives, the oldest villager being well over three hundred years old and still standing as straight and strong as the mountains that surrounded them. Many of the villagers also developed particular abilities. Kaylith knew of one man who couldn’t sleep on anything but the finest spun silk because he could feel every fiber shift against his skin. These oddities were such a regular occurrence within the village that they had given it a name, nauzhi. Directly translated it meant “blessed gift”.

Growing up all the villagers were told that their nauzhi was a product of the treaty that their village and the dragons had agreed upon ages ago. Na’ina, the village story teller, would then begin the elaborate tale of how their village and the dragons had desperately needed to make peace amongst themselves. She would say that long ago, farther back than the stones had stories written upon them, when the mountains in the Valley had not yet settled on their forms, our ancestors had waged a vicious drawn out war with the dragons of old. Generations of villagers and dragons alike shook the earth in ferocious battles. Some battles had been so savage that they had formed the very streams and rivers that now cut through the Valley. Until one day, a particularly gruesome battle had raged between the dragons and the villagers. The village war chief had locked eyes with the dragon heir, and a monstrous battle arose between the two. Locked into such a mindlessly ruthless battle, the two warriors hadn’t cared who had been near them during their struggle. Finally, breathless, weary, and injured, the two came to a stalemate long enough to look across the battlefield. Resounding guilt threatened to bring both warriors to their knees as they simultaneously realized their horrible mistake. During their battle neither champion had cared about who they injured alongside them, so long as the intruder was swiftly removed from the battle they had truly hungered for. This left not only many enemies, but kin as well, injured or worse strewn across the Valley as they had fought each other on the battlefield. In that moment of shameful realization, the two agreed upon a meeting to arrange a truce between the dragons and mankind. The villagers had agreed that they would never again raise a weapon against the dragons, and the dragons swore to protect the villagers residing within the Valley.

In the early years of the truce, neither side was willing to trust their once enemy, now tentative ally and neighbors. Skirmishes kept breaking out among small groups of villagers and dragons, threatening to throw the two factions in to war again. To quell the fighting the once great village war chief, together with the dragon heir, called a gathering to make a proclamation to both parties. They had agreed that in order to truly settle the past atrocities and to grow together as a community, the villagers were to allow the dragon heir his choice of a mate. That after the heirs mate passed on to the next life, he would step down and a new dragon would be named the dragon heir and the cycle would continue. The children of these couplings had been the first to receive the nauzhi. At first the villagers had been terrified, and even disgusted that these halfling children had come to possess such abilities. However, as time grew and more villagers developed their own nauzhi, having been descendants of the previous heir, the villagers and dragons alike began to see the nauzhi as a useful ability. It wasn’t until the brave Vitchzol that these abilities were given the name “nauzhi”. Many a legend depicted Vitchzol as a brave and skillful warrior who fought alongside the dragons in ferocious battles that had threatened to sweep away their beloved village. These legends usually told of Vitchzols’ nauzhi being that of such great strength as to rival that of the beasts he fought alongside. His courage was said to be just as mighty, and despite his reputation as a great warrior, he kept his humility about himself as well. After Vitchzol’s many heroic adventures had been greatly attributed to his heir-given ability of strength, the elders named these abilities “nauzhi”, as they now saw them as a sign from the gods that the union between the villagers and the dragons was a good omen and a blessing.

Kaylith still found the story of their villages’ birth captivating and longed for the wild adventures Na’ina told about Vitchzol. She didn’t have strength nauzhi like the legends about Vitchzol spoke of, in fact, it had been fifty-six seasons and Kaylith still had yet to develop her nauzhi at all. This didn’t prevent her from developing her own skills though. While waiting for her nauzhi to present itself, Kaylith had become quite adept at using her hands and quick wit to develop solutions to problems. If this was to be her nauzhi, Kaylith though ruefully, she would like to ask the gods for a new one. Perhaps one that controlled the weather?

Controlling when the clouds would disperse to allow the sun to hail her skin with its glorious warmth would be a gift that she would cherish more than the tools she had crafted to help her bring life to the barren soil she worked. Kaylith missed the warm kiss of sunlight brushing against her like a lover’s encouraging caress. Many a rainy day when the water viciously berated the roof of her treetop hut and threatened to overflow the river banks, Kaylith had caught herself longing for days where the sun returned to the vast sky above with its tender warmth. Though the dragons clearly allowed the sunlight through to help vegetation to grow, most of the time the Valley was shrouded in either shade or rain so thick that homes where placed safely in tree tops so as not to be swept away if the waters rose above the river banks. It was surprising that any vegetation grew with the ground being consistently soft. What vegetation that did manage to grow in the Valley developed particularly stubborn roots, so much so that the dragons came down for harvest time to assist the villagers in uprooting their fields. Still, it would be just as much of a gift, in Kayliths’ mind, as any nauzhi if the sun were more present in the sky than the clouds or rain that frequented their Valley.

Just then a low resounding ringing echoed from the village, interrupting her thoughts and signaling the immediate demand that all the villagers be present in the counsel hut. An exhausted sigh of relief escaped Kaylith’s lips. And before she could remind herself not to breath in the acrid smell that the dragons had brought with them to the Valley, she had sucked in a breath which sent her in to a fit of aggressive coughs as her body tried to repel the revolting toxin. When her body finally relaxed enough for her to move, Kaylith quickly gathered her tools and ran for the counsel hut. She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew why the dragons were gathering in the Valley today, and hoped that the meeting that had just been called would provide more insight and put her mind at ease. Though no one wanted to say it aloud, the new heir had not chosen a mate from the village since they had begun their reign three years prior. Everyone knew that a mate would have to be chosen soon or the heir would be seen as too weak to hold the dragon heir title, and soon be challenged for the position by another more powerful dragon. Her hope was that they would finally hold the selection ceremony as to avoid a challenge duel. Kaylith had never personally seen any dragon fight, but as the seasons had droned on after the current heir had been chosen and they still had not held a selection ceremony, genuine concern over the possibility of a challenge had sprung up amongst the older villagers. Just the other day she had overheard some of the elders discussing how they remembered being able to see death black plumes of smoke strangling the skies from the desert plains when a previous heir had refused to choose a mate.

That dragon heir had only held the dragon heir title for a single season before he had been challenged for his title. When by some miracle he had returned to the village, rumor was that he had been badly injured and was so furious at the selection ceremony that he had chosen a woman at random from the village and taken her to the mountaintop palace to finalize his selection. They must have gotten along though, Kaylith thought shrewdly, they had twelve child between the two of them. If the ceremony was to take place today it would be her turn to stand before the dragon heir. Not every woman participated in the ceremony. Traditionally, the women who were selected to participate had to be over the age of thirty seasons, never have born a child, and were not yet matched or married. Yea, that’s me, thought Kaylith as she caught sight of the counsel hut ahead. Since she had not yet developed a nauzhi she was seen by everyone, especially the men, as particularly undesirable. Well, perhaps not everyone, the children seemed to enjoy her company, and she loved sharing her knowledge and wit with them. Children could be such clever thinkers, some of her favorite tools were inspired by the creative minds of the children she helped care for in the village. At least that was one thing she was good at, teaching the little ones uniquely different skills than what everyone else could do. If the others took the time to try the things that she did, she was sure that they would enjoy the tasks too. However, why take the time to master such tedious things as weaving, or beading intricate designs in fabric when you could wave your hand over the item and the fibers weave or bead itself in to perfection? Or dirty your hands with earth when the same thing could be done to it? The nauzhi had been good to the villagers and provided many useful abilities that made quick work of chores. However, Kaylith thought some of the villager’s nauzhi made them lazy and vapid.

Kaylith took a brief moment to slow her breathing before entering the sturdy counsel hut. She took a final steadying breath and crossed the threshold of the entrance to take her place on the floor next to her friend Lyhanee, who had been eagerly saving a spot for her.

“What in the morning mist took you so long to get here Kay,” Lyhanee leaned in and whispered at Kaylith.

“I was on the other end of my field when I heard the bell. I ran all the way here, but I’m not blessed with speed nauzhi. I’m here though, have I missed anything?” Kaylith responded, equally as quiet so as to not disturb anyone around them. Lyhanee shook her head in response, simultaneously turning with Kaylith towards the front of the room. The village chief was standing before them dressed in his most elaborate robes. Each panel of fabric was intricately embroidered with the chieftain’s family history. Small gems were precisely and delicately hand stitched in to each of their respective positions on the fabric. Chief Sonaugi’s ornate wardrobe was all Kaylith needed to know that the meeting he had called was about the selection ceremony. Tension grew as the other villagers started to come to the same realization. Silence stretched over the crowded hut until all eyes were on Chief Sonaugi. In a weathered yet strong voice, Sonaugi addressed the villagers.

“I’m sure that everyone here knows that the dragon heir has yet to select a mate for himself. As of tonight, the dragon heir will make his selection from our women. All young women over thirty seasons are to prepare themselves for the selection ceremony. At the setting of the sun you will be expected to stand before the tree line and await a dragon escort.”

A timid young woman stood up amongst the sitting villagers. “Chief Sonaugi, you said all young women, what about those who are not yet married but in a relationship all the same?”

Chief Sonaugi flinched at the young woman’s words as if she had struck him. “This selection ceremony will not be including married women, or women who have borne children. However, if you are not yet married, single, or if you are widowed, the dragon heir has decided that he would like to be allowed to make a selection from a more, diverse selection than his predecessors.”

Shock briefly held the villagers in complete silence until it gave way to alarm and then to a toxic concoction of anger and panic. The villagers who had found their voices began asking questions as to why the tradition had changed. Why would the dragon heir cruelly take people’s match from them? The women of the village took the news the hardest. Some women started to silently weep, others became excited, and a few dashed out of the hut as their constitutions failed them and their stomachs. Kaylith turned to stare at Lyhanee. Lyhanee had been matched with a young man named Kuvvar since they were both thirty-four season. They were now in their sixty-fifth season and still unsure if they wanted to marry each other, even while many considered them a married couple. However, because the dragon heir was now requiring even matched women to participate in the selection ceremony, it wouldn’t matter that the whole village thought Lyhanee and Kuvvar were married. By rights and decree, they weren’t, which meant that Lyhanee would still have to participate in the ceremony alongside all the other women.

A horrible foreboding enveloped Kaylith. The room tilted for a brief moment as she realized that she may never again see her truest friend. Though no one would know who the dragon heir would choose as their spouse until the day after the night of the ceremony, Kaylith knew her friend had a better chance than most women in the village at insuring the dragons’ heart. The ceremony was the one singular opportunity to entice the dragon heir for the chance to become his match and eventual mate. All the offered women would be prepared in their most luxurious robes, bedecked in ornate jewelry and carried to the mountaintop palace by each woman’s assigned dragon escort. After what promised to be a lively evening at the palace, all but the chosen woman, would be returned to the village. Only then, after all the women had been accounted for by their families, would everyone know who the dragon heir had chosen. However, Kaylith knew that no matter how uncomfortable Lyhanee could become in a situation, she always managed to keep her wits about her. While Kaylith was a newborn fawn trying to stand for their first time, Lyhanee was a graceful and strong falcon by comparison in social affairs. Many a time Lyhanee had to prevent Kaylith from further embarrassing herself or worse, having to pull her out from amongst fights. It wasn’t in Kaylith’s nature to remain mute in situations where aggression was being used. Of course, she could always stand up for everyone but herself, as Lyhanee constantly reminded her. Warm tears stung her eyes at the thought of not hearing Lyhanee’s honest yet gentle scolding’s. Things could always change, Kaylith tried vainly to comfort herself. Maybe the dragon heir will think that she talks too much? Or that she’s too skinny.

The idea that anyone, dragon heir or not, thought little of Lyhanee was absurd. Not a single person came to mind when Kaylith tried to think of a person who found a flaw in Lyhanee. She had a beauty that radiated from deep within her soul so much so that on dark days it appeared as if a halo of light surrounded her. Even her nauzhi was radiant. She had been give the nauzhi of life. Women who could not conceive would turn to her in desperation, Lyhanee would simply lay her hands on the women and they would have an abundance of child. One such woman that Kaylith now looked at across the hut, had birthed nearly nineteen children. Lyhanee was the person that had helped teach Kaylith how to gently, yet sternly tend the soil to grow fields of lush vegetation. Surely the dragon heir would see the abundant blessings of having such a wife and not make a passing glance at the other women. The small hairs on the back of Kaylith’s neck pricked up in sudden awareness as silence sunk in to the hut. While she had been lost in thought over her friend, others in the crowded hut had come to the same realization, that the dragon heir would obviously choose Lyhanee. Kaylith gazed slowly around at the room, taking in every expectant glance, teary eye, sly face, hopeful gaze, or sorrow felt grimace that stared back at her friend. Ever poised and graceful, Lyhanee returned a blindingly beautiful smile to all the faces staring at her, and bowed her head to the floor in complete submission to the village, accepting their all of their expectations for the ceremony that night.

Kuvvar’s strong jaw clenched and unclenched, the muscles in his arms and shoulders rippled with aggravated annoyance. Finally, as heat pour off him like the great dragons themselves, Kuvvar stood in and slowly stalked out of the counsel hut, glaring daggers at anyone foolish enough to peer back at him. After Kuvvar left the hut, the chief continued to inform the villagers how the remainder of that day would commence. The selected women were to remain in the bath house until they were so pristinely cleaned that “flowers bloomed in their wake,” according to the chieftains. They would then be dressed in every finely embroidered and beaded fabric that could be spared, the other women were to insure of this while the men took care of the remaining day’s work. The women would not be seen until the dragons came to collect them, at which point the dragons would take them to the palace and the rest would be left to the selected women. At the mention of the palace many women glanced towards Lyhanee. While Kaylith managed to just stop herself from following suite in staring at her friend, she did manage to reach out and grasp Lyhanees’ hand that had been waiting outstretched for Kayliths’.

When the chief finished his proclamation of what was to happen for the remainder of the day, preparations began at once. Every last available woman was swooped up and hurried to the bath house. Though baths were typically something she enjoyed immensely, mostly because they weren’t the bone chilling iciness of the rain that berated the village, but a liquid warmth that soothed Kayliths need for the sunshine, this was not a pleasant experience. Kaylith had a sneaking suspicion that some of the women attending them were enjoying scrubbing layers of dirt, and probably skin too, off of them just a little too much. Especially the particularly rough woman assigned to helping her. The woman was beautiful, but strong as an ox and as tender as a rampaging dragon. She had an icy glare that told Kaylith that she would not tolerate disobedience, to which Kaylith subjected herself to such a thorough scrubbing that she was sure that she had been born again. She was roughly dried only to be drowned in fragrant oils so thickly that any dirt that tried to cling to her skin simply slid off her body. While it was amusing to see the dirt she had become so accustomed to seeing dye her skin, simply slide off as if in fear of bringing filth to such an innocent domain. The excessive sickly sweet perfumes that the attendants constantly poured over everyone’s head was nauseating, causing some women headaches sever enough to cause them to sit on the floor. Kaylith began longing for the putrid stink that rolled off the dragons in comparison to the headache inducing sweetness that drifted in the air of the bath house.

Every moment after that was just as tedious and excessive. By the time night had fallen the sweet smell had finally eased to a manageable fragrance, all the women had been draped in various colors of ornately and intricately embroidered fabrics. Each colored fabric, along with the intricate embroidery jewels that adorned said fabric had been gingerly picked for each woman. Even though everyone expected Lyhanee to be chosen, that was no cause to present everyone woman there with any less grandeur than she. Their hair had been beautifully made and decorated, their hands had been painted in beautifully delicate gold paint, and each woman wore so much jewelry that not a single one could blink slowly enough to not make a noise. The women were all lined gracefully side by side on a platform, awaiting their dragon escorts. A still came over the night as something large approached the village through the dark skies. Large shadows took form in the sky overhead, but it was not that of the dragons. Something was wrong, these were not the dragons they had come to have an accord with. These weren’t dragons at all for that matter. Sharp gnashing teeth dripping venom and promising far more than a simple death, shone in the mouths of well over dozens of unfamiliarly deadly faces. Not a single dragon in the sky to repel these ghastly beasts was to be spotted. Terror exploded in Kayliths body, this was how things ended, gilded to her hair in jewels and perfume only to become a crunchy morsel for a monster too horrid even for legends.