Here There Be Dragons

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Long ago the land and trees were left unscathed, unburnt. A beautiful village sat on the edge of the valley, peaceful and quiet, my village. I was a wee lad, spending my days swinging a stick, pretending to be a hero from the bedtime tales my mother would spin for me. It’s funny how a thread of fate can make those stories of heroism and strife into a reality.

The sun was beginning to hide away and give the moon its great stage we call the night sky. I was running around with my stick, acting like a soldier called home when the first scream rang out across the valley, “DRAGON!” Then came the shadow which flew overhead, the wind from its wing flaps sent chills down my spine. The stick I had been holding was now by my feet, and I hadn’t even realized I dropped it. Then the second scream, my mother calling out to me as I stood, awestruck, looking into the sky at the might of a terror which had befallen our little village. Fire shot from the dragon's mouth, raining down upon us, bathing the village in the raw power of the sun. Then I was picked up, grabbed by my mother as she ran with me, followed by the other women with their children and the cowards which ran in fear. From that day forward, it was fire that ruled the valley. As one dragon arrived, more followed as most believe they travel in packs like wolves, yet the stories of old always mentioned them in a singular sense.

Many travelers, adventurers, and self-proclaimed heroes ventured to the valley, none would return. As I grew into a man, I became the soldier I would pretend I was as a child. My mind was set on one goal, take back the valley, take back my home, victory or death. So in my mind’s eye, every enemy slain at the end of my blade was no mere man, but a dragon that burned my home to ashes and killed friends I held dear. My mother has long since passed and made her journey into the great pale beyond our mortal plain. A shame she cannot see this day as I stand on the edge of a now ashen valley, ready to return the hellfire spewed from their mouths.

At this moment, I take one step into a land transformed from when I last saw it. What was green and bright, lush with trees and plants is now the image of hell, a waking nightmare. Smoke clouds blot out the sun which once shone down upon the valley, accentuating the beauty of this land. Ash flakes fell from the sky like a hot winter’s snow, coating the ground in a sickly gray tone. Then there were the mounds of fire which I could see burning for as far as my eyes could witness. I had no guide, no allies, just myself and fire within that could rival the sun’s raw power.

My next step is taken and I am off on this journey on which I have set myself upon from the day I was swept up and away from my village. It is soon that I stumbled upon my first stop, a group of charred corpses. They stood like statues in battle poses, being turned to rock in combat of the great beasts I seek to kill. The sky let out a grumble that the untrained ear would mistake as mere thunder. I knew it would be my first opponent.

Drawing my blade from its scabbard, I ready myself with a proper battle stance. With a crack of the sky and a break in the smoke clouds, the dragon descended upon me ready for the kill. I was not like these dead men which surrounded me, I came not for glory, I came not for a king, I came for my home. As this dragon landed and shook the ground, I stand unphased and begin a charge. I am unlike any foe this dragon has faced in its lifetime, I am a man possessed by the spirit of battle, poised to kill with no fear of death. Letting out a primal roar, I lift my blade to strike, the dragon’s eyes have the slightest glint of fear, summoning a smile on my face. My blade slashes the dragon’s face and I roll to avoid the spit of fire it lets out in a desperate attempt to survive. I come back to my feet and stab the dragon’s neck, making it screech in pain. Blood splashes as I remove my sword from its neck and raise it overhead for the killing blow. This dragon had only ever known easy prey, it shows, more the reason to kill it. As I bring my sword down and cleave its head from its body, one last death screech is let out across the valley.

The first of their blood is spilled, an easy kill though, I must not allow myself to boast upon this encounter for it was obviously the weakest dragon which resides here. I look out across the land and see the demon beasts descending from the smoke which covers the sky. Hordes of them, like some sort of swarm, fly down and across the valley and then land. Fire bellows up into the sky, like some sort of tribute to their fallen friend. While amusing, I care not for their sentiment, as they didn’t care for ours when the valley burned. So I carry on through the heat and charred remains, this was more of a graveyard than a home now. I will fix this, I will end the nightmare held over this land, I will kill them all, I will restore my home. The graven imagery which I saw around me was out of the stories used to scare children away from bad deeds. Hell is a word ringing through my thoughts, this is hell and the dragons are those demons that torment and rule over it. To the end, I must see it through, this bloody journey, I must see it through to the end.