Please, Don't Slay the Dragons

There weren't always dragons in the valley. Once, there was worse - much worse. Dragons are visible. You can hear them and feel their heat. They are vulnerable. If you are brave enough, If you are pure enough, if you are bold enough, dragons can be slain.

What lived in the valley before the dragons came, the Others, still live there. They lurk in the shadows and wait. Still dangerous. Still horrible. Still ruthless.

Some say the Others are not of this earth or even this galaxy. The Others were here before even us. Some of us, the old ones, say that the Others are a living manifestation of our own greed, hate, and fears -- not who we were, but who we have become. If so, we must be a rotten, repulsive people - perhaps we are.

Our forefathers who settled this land knew of the Others, though there were no interactions civil or uncivil. We and the Others coexisted for ages without harming each other. They went their way, and we went ours. Each group seemed to adhere to an unspoken sense of propriety. We did not invade their space, and they did not invade ours. How this was communicated and arranged, nobody knows. It is just the way it was for years. In the beginning, there was peace. We neither heard nor saw the Others. No one ever has and lived to describe them. It is hard to explain, but we sensed their presence. We just "knew" somehow, they were there. We also "knew" to stay on our heights and not venture into the valley. Our place was on the heights.

Later, our village grew, and new people arrived as our young ones came of age. Newcomers and those born in our town could not sense the presence of the Others. We elders were scoffed at and called superstitious and ignorant. Gradually some of our people began to venture into the valley and the lowlands despite our warnings. They would return unharmed, boasting of all the wonderful things they saw in the valley. They caused many to doubt even the existence of the Others. That was what the Others planned as revenge for our indiscretions. Slowly things began to change. We began to sense the Others among us on the heights. We felt them in the night, yet our trespasses continued. We invaded their space, and they began invading ours. Occasionally odd things would happen. Things would go bump in the night. People would come up missing with no sign of their disappearance. The aggression gradually increased. Later, wild, horrible screams would pierce the night as the sound of bodies being dragged into the valley was heard. Worse was the loss of children. Our babies were being taken by an unseen, irresistible force. We knew who was responsible. We could not resist. We could not fight what we could not see. We were prey for the Others.

The dragons came when we could stand no more. We decided to move our village. Fearsome and aggressive, the dragons encamped in the valley. The intruders from our town were the first to see the dragons. They described them in the most terrifying terms. They were awesome, huge, and blew fire from their nostrils. They incinerated several of our people until no one would venture into the valley. Some of our braver townsmen killed a few dragons, and it became apparent that the dragons were a lesser threat than the Others. You could see and slay a dragon. At least the dragons did not venture into our heights, and only attacked us when we were in the valley. But with two foes now living in the valley, our excursions into the valley stopped.

Why didn't the Others attack the dragons? We did not know, but as the attacks from the Others became less and less, we understood that the dragons were holding the Others in check. We understood the laws of nature – that all creatures need habitat, cover, food, and water. All of that was provided in the valley. Over time, we sensed the presence of the Others less and less. We understood that the dragons were preying on the Others, diminishing their numbers.

The nightly raids only ceased when the dragons appeared in the valley. Whatever you do, please, do not slay the dragons.