Dragons in the Valley

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. They came from somewhere beyond the mountains. It's said they flew in one day. The townsfolk watched them approach overhead one by one. As they got closer and it was able to discern the shape and form of the impending visitors, a deep sense of impending dread began to take over the hearts of those who had lived here on this land for generations. They could have never known what was in store for them in the coming moments, months, and years. They never would have envisioned what life would be like for their children and their children's children. But here it was, their future already decided for them and presented to them on that day.

The thought occurred to some of them to hide, pretend noone was around and hope for the best. If they were simply passing by, it would be a short time and the townspeople would feel safe to come out, free to go about their daily lives again. If they were stopping for a short rest, a chance to stretch, a momentary break on a longer journey, hiding out and laying low may still be feasible. If the worst thing possible were to occur, if the dragons did indeed intend to colonize and take over the Valley, this approach would likely not fair as well for the people of the small valley town.

The original inhabitants knew one thing: They were not leaving their home. No matter what it took, they would hold their ground and maintain firm with their conviction to never let their land be taken from them easily. They would not go down without a fight.

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. But once they came, the youngest among the native residents would never have known their home without them. They wouldn't have recognized that different world; their home, more pure, would have felt foreign to them now.

The eldest know this as a shame. Though there's nothing they could have done differently to change the outcome for the better. They just had no way of predicting the future. Those a little younger, the ones who were in their prime at the time of the arrival, the ones who have been the most worn down by the changes, accept the presence as an unfortunate reality that they are incapable of escaping.

The scariest part about the whole thing is the imaginations of the Valley folk. In their minds, the worst possibilities become reality. Whether the feared scenarios ever take place or not is somewhat irrelevant, because what they've experienced in their heads has just as real an impact on their emotional wellbeing as if it had happened in the physical realm.

In reality, the dragons were not of the variety that ever intended to eat or desired eating the folks in the Valley. They did not breathe fire and burn down their homes, villages, and forests. They did not enslave and terrorize the people with the threat of physical harm, holding their grandiose nature and unfair size and strength advantage against them. They simply arrived that day and have been coexisting with the original inhabitants of the Valley since. There was no agreement worked out. There is virtually no direct communication between the two populations. They largely keep to themselves. They seem to respect the townsfolk by never invading the spaces they had already inhabited when they arrived. All this being the case, there are still few in the Valley who regularly get a decent night's sleep. Although the dragons have done no harm, they have the potential to do so, and sometimes, that is the most damaging thing of all to the human psyche.