Duel of fate

There was not always Dragons in the Valley. There was not always life or civilization before my people were brought to this prison. It was nothing but an endless stretch of sand dunes and jagged black rocks. Now its home to last of the Aesirian people. Who live in a shanty town of rusted tin and clay brick buildings, with cloths for doors. There are no fences around our prison or guards, just a swarm of Dragons that fly around the perimeter like a nightmarish Tornado with the prison in the eye of it.

Our prison...my punishment for leading my people into war. A rebellion against our oppressing emperor. We were doomed either way so why not fight, proud and noble to the end; A foolish lie we told ourselves.

My memory has faded with the decades that have passed, only fragmented memories remain of our home, our grand city of Jericho, of my family. I don't even know if the memories are real or if it's just fantasies of madness that rots my mind.

I thin I remember our last stand in the council halls of Jericho. The fire and sounds of clanging swords and shields and the screams. The emperor didn't kill us, he captured all the Aesir that lived. He took them into the desert. The emperor himself came to watch as they nailed my limbs into the large dead tree that overlooks the prison.

'' you will not die Cero, you will watch generations of your people wither and die before I let death take you'' the emperor had said to me. The branches of the Tree pierced through my body like worms digging through soil. My blood drips down the vines into a pool below. The tree keeps me from death and drains me. So I feel I'm neither living or dead.

A roofless church was built around the dead tree and priests were brought from the capital to preach lies and force poison onto my people. My people fill the chairs and aisles of the church. They are told lies which strengthen the shackles that exist in their minds. They drink from the well, from me. My blood keeps them in an hallucinatory state. Easier to control.

For the first few years I screamed and begged them to stop. ''don't drink from the well. wake up''. I tried to fight through my pain and free myself. The tree would only dig deeper and cause me more pain. All my screaming was in vain. They could not hear me or see me. All they saw was a statue of the creator reaching out with both hands and holy water running over the stone finger tips like a waterfall. They didn't see the tree, they didn't see me bound to it. They did not see the blood that dripped into well, that the priests would scoop up in jugs.

So powerful are the Aesir's innate gifts for casting illusions, my Gifts. That they did not see the prison they were in. Instead in their intoxicated state they believed they were in a city of marble stone that had a crystal clear river that cuts through the center and flanked by jungles. As far as they knew, they were still in Jericho. The dragons that the priests had told them were there sins, was all part of the illusion cast on them. All a part of the prison that holds them. This kept them docile and compliant enough so that the mages from the capital could systematically take them. Experimenting with them to unlock the hidden secrets of the Aesir's power.

I close my eyes and dream sometimes of them screaming, when the drug wares off and reality comes washing in like a wave.. This is my punishment.

As the years went by I learnt to shut myself off, to numb myself to reality. Escaping into my own mind. I even began to hate my own people, I hated them for their weakness. In my darkest moments I thought that they deserved this. As even more time passed and more of the Aesir were taken I forced myself to sleep to drift off into my mind.

Except for this day.

A small storm system had broken away from the hurricane that was surging in a land far from here. The storm clouds had drifted across the desert and hovered over the prison. The cold rain began to drop on my sun blistered skin that had burnt and shriveled over the decades. The cold breeze snapped me awake.

The crowd of people filled the church for their daily mass. The red robed priest stood before them. I felt awake more then I had felt in years. an energy I didn't understand.

''The Dragons that encircle our city" the priest shouted

''Are the sins of each and every one of you''

There was a rumble of thunder and a howl of wind. Some people in the crowd screamed and recoiled thinking it was a dragon. Their imagined sin coming to swoop down to snare them in there claws and take them to hell.

'' But fear not, there is hope for all of you. drink from the well and admit your sins to the creator."

something was drawing me to the crowd. I watched the red robed priests walk through the crowd of people who held out their cupped hands and waited for the priests to pour the poison into their hands. They raised it to their lips and slurped up the liquid and whispered their imagined sin.

I felt a rush of rage and agony flow through me. I shouted ''stop, please stop'' it came out weakly like my vocal cords had shrunken and withered away like the rest of my body. '' wake up'' I pleaded Weakley. The red priest who stood on the alter, heard me. He turned looking up at me and smiled then turned back to the masses.

'' Drink wash away your sins''

I had not cried in decades. I don't know why I did today, maybe id finally lost my mind. I wish I had died in battle with my family or that I had taken my life. I wish I had done something so I did not have to endure this hell any longer.

Through tear filled eyes I looked down at the crowd of my people. Their blank gaunt faces. Their skin was so tight against their malnourished bodies that you could see the bones and veins. They all drank from the priests jugs, drinking their own slow death from their palms.

That is when I saw them. Two children staring at me. A Boy and a Girl, they looked almost identical. Long blonde hair, sun tanned skin. Their eyes were different, The boys a deep blue and the girls a dark red.

can they see me..

The little girl turned to her mother and tugged at her arm.

" mummy the man in the Tree is awake''

Her mother moved her arm away '' There is no tree Elly, now drink''

She grabbed the girls arm and held it up to the priest with the jug. the priest began to pour liquid into the girls hand.

She can see me, it cant be. How can she see me. I tried to scream out to her I tried to move my body, but the muscles had died long ago and the words would not leave my mouth. I could only watch as the girl drank from her hand. Tears rolled down my cheeks, why did I let hope back in. I watched the girl wipe her mouth with her sleeve. She tuned to her brother.

'' Darcy look, the man in the tree is awake'' she pointed up to me

Her brother looked up at me as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

How is this possible, they have both drank from the well. from me. they should be trapped in the illusion, like all the others. They are not affected by my magic. I stared back at them Blankley and then an old memory hit me like lightning, taking my breath away. Reaching up somewhere from the fragmented abyss of my mind... The Fates.

Could this be, has it awoken in our bloodline again. Has hope found a way to be reborn in this hell. It must be the Awakening.

I must help them, I must find a way.

Life flickered in me again I felt a part of myself return. A man I once was, a memory that lit embers of strength within me. I closed my eyes and began to focus. This will be my redemption, there will not always be Dragons in this valley.