From the Ashes

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Once upon a time, in the not so distant past, dragons were a myth. A cute cartoon character voiced by Awkwafina. A vehicle for angsty twenty six year olds to work out their feelings.

And sure, some people would tell you they were real. Mythology students in flannel pajamas would argue with tour guides for hours claiming a T-Rex claw was actually a dragon spike. And we all ignored them.

Oh to be blissfully unaware.

Who knew that global warming was the warning sign. Sure, we all knew global warming wasn't a good thing. We just figured it would sort itself. Longer tornado seasons, earthquakes, random cold snaps - it's all a cycle. Right?

It started with the eruption of Yellowstone. You know, that massive volcanic field under miles of protected forest. The one where scientists proclaimed that if it were to erupt it would take out half of North America and Japan. That volcanic field.

It erupted. And out of the ashes, Dragons.

First came the Britannia Dragons. Huge winged dinosaurs breathing fire and destruction upon the masses.

Next came the sea serpents. Leviathan creatures who could take out entire islands with one bite.

Then there were the air serpents. Giant, snake-like creatures, longer than the tallest buildings who spit lightning on their prey.

And these were only the beginning. Every year since the great calamity, more types of dragons have emerged. Too many to count.

This world of death and destruction is all I have ever known. I was born to it. Don't ask me how many years have passed. Don't ask me how old I am. I don't know. I will probably never know. All I know is that dragons are my enemy, and I will be the one to defeat them…

"Arachnia! Quit your lollygagging and line up!"

Arachnia, that's my name. The only thing I remember my mother telling me. She was killed by dragons when I was a little girl. It happened right in front of me. Avenging her is the reason I get up in the morning.

It's been two years since I joined the Dragon Core. Apparently they still think we should keep track of things like that. I can remember the first time I saw them. A ragtag group of individuals fresh off a hunt. They had taken down a giant wind serpent terrorizing the village. I knew then, I was going to be one of them.

I tried to join that same day. But apparently you have to be 16 or older. Not knowing how old I was they told me no. It didn't stop me. I asked every group that came through our little village. Finally, one day, they didn't ask how old I was. They just told me to get my stuff and get in line.

"Arachnia! Keep ignoring me and you will be on point for the rest of your miserable days in my squad!"

Taking point is the most difficult and dangerous job. Not only are you responsible for keeping the squad out of danger, but chances are in an attack, you get eaten first. Stupid commander. You would think he would have figured out by now that I want to be on point. But no one cares about a rag like me.

"All right, rags! This is the day you hoped would never come!"

I have survived 17 missions on point. It's all about knowing the land. And no one knows the land better than me.

"We have located a dragon strong hold half a day's walk up that mountain. Our orders are to climb that mountain and eradicate anything non-human we come across."

It's a suicide mission. One squad - ten people - half starved and frost bitten, against whatever lies in that cave. My favorite kind.

"Arachnia will be taking point. Charles and IO will be carrying the explosives. The rest of you, try not to die on the way up."

How encouraging. That's how most of these debriefs go. Here is an impossible task, try not to die. But we are the disposable ones. Everyone knows we're going to die, at some point.

Like I said, no one cares about rags.

My squad has been stationed in what used to be called the Flathead Valley. According to the commander, whose family lived here before the calamity, it was a bustling community that thrived on tourism. Now, it's a waste land of ash and trees. Nothing survived the blast. Now, only birds and dragons live here.

As we climb the mountain, I try to remember my mother. I do this every time we go on mission. What color was her hair? Black? Brown? How about her eyes. Were they kind? Sad? Thinking about all the things I may never know about her is what keeps me alive. Gives me the will to fight until all dragons are annihilated.

"So, do you think we will come across any Elfin Dragons?"

That's Chandler. He's obsessed with dragons. I think his dad was one of those pajama wearing argumentative types I was telling you about. He joined our squad three weeks ago. And for whatever reason I can not comprehend, he seems to think we're friends.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Elfin Dragons are not real."

Chandler has this crazy theory that there is a race of humanoid dragons. He theorizes that they are the leaders of the dragons and the reason dragons are so difficult to fight. I say there is a reason he ended up on our squad.

"Aw come on Arachnia!" Chandler's voice always sounds whiny when he's offended, "How many times have I told you that I saw one on my last mission. She was blue and green, with frosty white eyes…"

"And pointed ears like an elf. Yes, I know." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Is there a fog rolling in? "And how many times have I told you, you need to see a brain doctor."

Chandler looked at me hurt. "One day I will prove you wrong. One day you will know I was right and…"

I shushed Chandler. Something wasn't right. The forest was quiet. I held up a hand, warning the rest of the squad to be on high alert. The silence enveloped us. I slowly rotated my head looking for movement. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small parasite dragon disappear into the undergrowth.

"It's a trap!" I screamed as the fog above us dissipated showing a horde of dragons. Trickey bastards.

We were surrounded. britannia dragons stood on the ground. Air dragons floated silently above. And all about the ground ran scavenger and parasite dragons, waiting for the aftermath of the battle. I saw red.

Here's the thing about me. I am really good at killing dragons. When I was still considered a child, I killed a swamp dragon that was eating the village livestock. I don't remember how I did it. I just remember being really mad, seeing red, and the next thing I knew the dragon was dead.

It wasn't the last time it happened either. Former squad mates will tell outlandish tales about me killing a dozen dragons single handedly, moving at the speed of light and striking with tunder. Once, a commander swore I pickled up a britannia dragon with one hand and threw it over a cliff. Of course, no one believes them. Not that I care. I don't kill dragons for glory or a fast pass to the walled cities. I kill for vengeance

I come out of my trance to find the dragon horde destroyed. Even the scavenger and parasite dragons are dead. Good. I turn to see how many of the squad are still alive. Chandler stares at me.

"You are the one," he whispers.

I ignore his comment. "Where is everyone Chandler?"

"You are the one!" Chandler shouts with… is that glee?

"What are you talking about Chandler? Where is everyone? Squad sound off!"

But Chandler is the only one I see. Where is the crabby pants commander? Where's Charles and IO? Where is everyone?

Chandler is reaching out to touch me. "From the ranks of the enemy will your savior arise. Powers of light and air will unite, and she will awake in her enemies death cries."

Oh great, Chandler has truly lost it. I turn to shake him out of it, "Chandler! Get it together! Where is everyone?"

Chandler looks behind me. I see his eyes widen. I feel a sharp pain in my back. Damn, I must have missed a stinging dragon. They are damn hard to spot and lightning quick with their tails. And their poison kills almost instantly.

I start to lose consciousness. Chandler catches me as I fall. Stupid idiot. He should be lobbing a grenade, saving his own skin. But that's not Chandler's personality.

As the darkness envelops me, I ask my mothers forgiveness. I didn't wipe dragons from the face of the earth. I didn't avenge her. All I did, was die.

"Will she survive?"

Out of the pitch blackness I hear… voices? What's going on?

"Yes your majesty. Chandrake brought her in the nick of time. She is very strong."

Okay what kind of a stupid prank is this? If Chandler thinks this is funny, I'm gonna kill him. I open my eyes to see, DRAGONS?

But not dragons? Human like creatures with iridescent skin and frosty eyes. There is one on my right, holding a tray of medical supplies. Its skin is blue and green and… has scales? It smiles at me.

"Hello. Glad to see you are awake. I've been monitoring your vitals and you are recovering quickly."

"Who are you? Where am I?" I shout. I try to sit up but can't. What is this? Magic?

"Give us a minute please." It's the second voice I heard. The other creatures bow their heads and walk out. I turn my head to look at the voice.

Iridescent purple skin covers a lithe body. There are no scales this time. But there is something unsettling about this creature. Something in those eyes. They remind me of…

“Mom?”