Flying Solo

“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.” The rasping voice drifted into the still night sky, delivering the story they knew so well to the occupants of Oakhollow. They were all seated on worn logs around the large communal fire, gathered in celebration to listen to the old tales. Though the air was chilly, the dancing flames gave off enough heat to warm the whole village - even the bones of the elderly, like the white-haired storyteller of Oakhollow who sat on a gnarled tree stump near the fire.

Finn shivered as the old man’s piercing gaze landed on him, startling blue amid the lines of age. Though his face was as creased as an intricate bark knot and his joints creaked like the branches of an ancient tree in the wind, the storyteller’s mind was as sharp as ever. His retellings of the ancient tales were considered the best in the Valley, recreating the age-old stories that marked a child’s transition into adulthood and bringing them to brilliant and magical life, even for those who had heard them many times before.

“No one can remember where they had come from, or when, or why. Some whisper that they rose up from the depths of the faraway oceans, others say they soared down from the mountains, and still others insist that they crawled out of caves deep underground.” A pause in the narrative; the silence filled with expectation and tension thicker than the smoke that rose from the fireplace.

The storyteller continued, his voice steadily rising in volume. “But wherever they came from, the dragons have only the mindless urge to burn and destroy. Humans have been battling this threat for thousands of years, but we make no progress in this never-ending fight. Yet the old tales say that one day a great hero will come when times are grave, when all hope is lost, and save us from the beasts!”

Everyone leaned forwards slightly, excited for the action of the old tale to start. Caught up in the anticipation, Finn sat forwards on the log as well, his heart beating faster. Just then though, he noticed his best friend Cassie shifting restlessly, glancing at the people around her then looking back to the spitting flames of the large communal fireplace. She was rubbing the old scar on her left palm, and her breath seemed to be coming faster. Finn remembered suddenly, with a slight pang of guilt, that his friend didn’t enjoy the tales of dragons - they brought back too many painful memories for her. He shouldn’t have forgotten.

He nudged Cassie with his elbow and, as she looked at him, whispered soft enough so that only she could hear, “Are you ok?”

Nodding, Cassie gave him a small smile, but Finn wasn’t fooled. He knew how much talking about dragons unsettled her, and could always tell when she was about to fall back into the dark memories of her past.

Surreptitiously, Finn stood and pulled Cassie up with him, then began to make his way through the gathered villagers. Cassie followed with a mixture of reluctance and relief. As they neared the back of the crowd, she spoke first. “I’m all right Finn, you don’t need to worry about me.”

Glancing at her doubtfully, Finn pulled his fur coat around him tighter, chilly away from the fire, and continued walking. “Are you sure? You looked a bit…upset.”

Cassie sighed, looking frustrated, but followed him. “Fine, all right, I got a bit upset. You caught me again. Happy now?”

“Come on Cassie, you know I’m not like that,” Finn said. He wasn’t offended or annoyed by her words; he had known Cassie long enough to know that she was only embarrassed and angry at herself, not him.

Eventually they reached their destination. Finn clambered up the swaying rope ladder first and hauled himself up onto the wooden floor, then sat leaning against the wall of the treehouse. Their treehouse, which they had built with their own hands, and which Cassie had decorated with patterns and animals carved directly into the walls and even the bark of the tree itself; a living sculpture created over the course of the years they had been coming here. Their special place.

He turned as Cassie pulled herself up, then came over to sit next to him. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked quietly. Cassie half turned away, her dark hair whipping across her face as a cool breeze flew through the open windows of their treehouse. She was silent for a moment, then she sighed. All the fight seemed to go out of her as she sagged against the walls. “I just…you know I hate dragons. You know what they did to me,” Her voice wobbled, and the words seemed to rush out of her like a waterfall. “And now it’s almost time for our Journeys - you’re going tomorrow - and while I have no intention of going anywhere near the dragons’ nests, I know you do. I know how…how reckless you can be sometimes. Actually, a lot of the time. I know you want to bring back an eggshell, you want to live up to Lia’s Gift. But it’s too dangerous! You can’t…I can’t lose my best friend as well.” She gazed at him in distress, and Finn winced. Her words hit close to home. He was reckless, and she had guessed right, even though he had never told her the idea he had been harbouring. He did want to bring back a dragon eggshell from his Journey.

Every time a child in the village turned fifteen years old, they went on a Journey; a trip of four or more weeks where they would have to survive outside of the village on their own for the first time in their lives, and bring back a Gift for the Elders of Oakhollow. It was an opportunity to show their bravery and resourcefulness, their daring and intelligence. The Gift could be anything decorative or useful - either handmade, found in the wild or traded for in a neighbouring village - but dragon eggshells were considered the greatest prize to obtain. Found in a multitude of different colours, with a surface as hard and lustrous as any jewel, the eggshells were highly valued throughout all the villages, especially as Gifts. But they were incredibly perilous to find; getting one involved braving the dangers of the dragons’ territory, being quick and bold enough to get in and out without being spotted. If they were seen by the beasts, they would be dead. It wasn’t a feat often attempted.

Finn’s older sister Lia had brought back a dragon eggshell from her Journey the previous year, gaining the respect of the whole village and the Elders. Now Finn felt the need to…what? Prove himself? Live up to the expectations of the village? Or maybe just his own expectations. It was more than that though. Just the thought of entering dragon territory, of stealing a dragon’s eggshell, made the excitement and anticipation fizz in his veins. The same excitement and anticipation that made him take stupid risks, as Cassie knew only too well.

Now, he looked at Cassie guiltily. “Don’t worry Cass, I’ll be fine, I promise. Anyway, I may well chicken out of trying to steal an eggshell.’’

Cassie snorted, and Finn knew she didn’t believe him. He couldn’t blame her; to be honest, he wasn’t sure he believed himself.

“When do you ever chicken out of anything?” she asked, sighing. Finn just shrugged helplessly. That was the problem; he never wanted to worry her but he just couldn’t seem to stop himself when it came to dangerous situations.

There was silence between them for a bit, filled only with the sounds of owls hooting in the woods and the rustle of the leaves in the cool breeze. Then Cassie smiled at him slightly. “Whatever. I know I can’t do anything to stop you trying to get an eggshell on your Journey…just try not to get yourself killed, ok?” Finn grinned back at her, relieved at the lessening of tension. He could see she was still worried, but was trying to put it on hold for their last night before he started his Journey.

Suddenly he remembered something. “I made you something for your Journey, by the way,” Finn said, trying to sound casual. He hoped Cassie liked what he had made for her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her glance at him curiously as he dug into the pocket of his coat, then pulled out a leather scroll casing and handed it to her. She gently extracted the thin paper from the case and unrolled it as unfamiliar nerves erupted in Finn’s stomach; what if she didn’t like it? What if he had made a mistake with the ink, missed a stroke, messed it up somehow?

Cassie looked up and beamed at him, amazement on her face, and his worry vanished. “Wow Finn, it’s amazing! One of your best ones, I’d say.” She held the delicate scroll out to show him, as if he didn’t know what he had painted. The twisting ink otters danced in the moonlight that shone through the windows, ink shining in the faint gleam. Finn knew that Cassie loved otters - they had spent many happy hours hidden in the long grass by the river, watching the otters tumbling through the water - and had wanted to give her something she could carry for her Journey. It would be the longest time they would be away from each other for as long as either of them could remember.

“Glad you like it,” Finn said, grinning with slight embarrassment. He had given her paintings of his before, but this one he had put the most time and effort into. Cassie carefully rolled the scroll back up and placed it in its case, then leaned over and hugged him. “Thank you,” she whispered. Finn felt warmth rise up inside him as he hugged his friend; he was going to miss her as much as his family when he left on his Journey tomorrow.

Cassie broke away from the hug, and rummaged in her own pockets. “My turn for giving presents now,” she said, a pleased look on her face. She gave him a small object, about the size of the palm of his hand, wrapped in cloth. Finn unwrapped it, curiosity bubbling inside of him though he thought he knew what it might be. Sure enough, a wooden carving fell out of the package. Finn grinned; it was a red fox, his favourite animal and a symbol of good luck and smart decisions - perhaps ironic, considering the stupid choices he made sometimes.

It was no ordinary carving though. As Finn held it up to the dim light, he realised with wonder that he was looking at an almost perfect miniature likeness of a fox standing with one paw raised, ears pricked, an inquisitive expression somehow worked into the snout and eyes. The detail was incredible; he’d known Cassie was good, but this was another level entirely.

Looking at Cassie, who wore a nervous expression, Finn felt amazement appear on his own face. She started to speak before he could, forestalling what he was going to say. “I know it's not brilliant,” she said rapidly, looking embarrassed. “There’s a mistake on the left hind leg, and I accidentally chipped off a bit of the tail…” her voice trailed off as Finn pulled her into a hug, much as she had done to him earlier. ‘It is brilliant,” he said sternly. “This is definitely the best carving I've seen you do. I wouldn’t have noticed those mistakes if you hadn’t pointed them out and anyway, nothing’s perfect. Mistakes make things interesting.”

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The next morning dawned clear and sunny, though swirling grey clouds in the distance promised a storm. I’ll have to find shelter before that hits, Finn thought. Right now though, the sky was blue, the rising sun was slowly warming up the crisp air, and the whole world lay out for Finn to explore on his Journey.

Looking back at the village that lay nestled in the Valley behind him, Finn felt a pang of sadness. It had been hard saying goodbye to his friends and family, even only temporarily. He also regretted that he wouldn’t see Cassie start her Journey; she would set off a few days after him. Finn hoped that she was ok and not worrying too much about him, or her own Journey, and that his family weren’t worried either - they all knew of his propensity for risk taking. It’s not forever, he reminded himself. You’ll see them again.

Resolutely, Finn turned back to look down the Valley before him, and slowly began to feel the excitement fill him up again. He knew what lay ahead of him; Finn would have to be quick, strong and daring to achieve his goal, and he was under no illusions of how dangerous it would be. Good thing I’m brave then, he reflected grimly.

With a spring in his step, Finn began his Journey. He was on his own for the first time, leaving his village, his home, like the baby birds he and Cassie watched every year taking their first few unsteady wingbeats to launch themselves into the wide open sky. Flying solo, Finn thought with a smile. Determination rushed through his veins as he walked, and only two thoughts filled his head. He was going to find a dragon’s eggshell. And he was going to make it out alive.