Ryler

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. It wasn’t until the Stockclad army pushed north into the continent of Droclor under the banner of a holy crusade, building garrisons and taking over the northern isle. In order to fund their holy campaign, the Stockland army started raiding the dragon’s mountain holds hoping for vast riches and mounds of treasure, all to build their growing empire. Of course, this forced the fleeing dragons to the lands of the south, and into the Valley of the wind.

*

Ryler “Duke” Thatcher stood at the mouth of the Red Canyon as it was the northmost canyon that lead into the Valley. The canyon earned this title not because of the red sandstone that made up its interior, but rather as the result of hundreds of sailing ship being forced into the cliffside walls with the heavy waves that come with the seasons.

The Valley just south of the Red Canyon was a place where hundreds of people resided tending to small farms. Ryler had been appointed to the prestigious position of Warden of the Valley. An award from a few years earlier when he hunted and killed some twenty wolves that had been harassing the livestock and, in few cases had maimed and even killed several farmers. Ryler was the only one in the Valley who had the gumption, the resolve to hunt the wolves back to their dens. After the incident he was dubbed the “Duke” and was given the position to guard the Valley, though the title and position was met by his protest, Ryler found himself in possession of the title, Warden. Though the locals rejoiced Ryler knew his acceptance was only a result of his past.

The thought of his past made Ryler shutter, his skin perked with goose flesh, his eyes burned. He could still feel the fire as it burned brightly just outside the small feeble shack. It was this tiny shack that he, his father, and mother called home. Tucked tightly under his bed Ryler held his ears trying his best to shut out the screams of death as the sound poured into the small one bed home through the various loosely nailed planks. Light flickered through the thin slits of the walls, as the flames licked at the side of the weak structure. As the light grew brighter Ryler lowered his head slamming shut his eyes. The last memory he had of his mother was the final shriek she gave before all was quiet; Ryler will always remember that quiet it was the quiet that would make your ears ring. There he lay with nothing but his tears and raking sobs to burn into his memory, the final breath his mother had was on her back peering at the scrunched body of her fear riddled son, as he hid trying his best to preserve his tiny life. Ultimately, it was this memory that made him accept the position of warden. He always promised himself that he would die before he would let another experience this heart ache.

For days Ryler remained under his bed, hiding from an enemy that had left, to him they were always there. To him, his memory kept the murders there, more than they had ever actually been. Ryler in his visons replaced the men with monsters from the depths of the earth. Fangs pierced their lips, meat hung from their jowls, eyes red as burning coal. His fear outweighed his sanity, his child like imagination held him hostage. For days Ryler lay there hearing nothing but silence, and in few cases the sound of feasting animals. Every time Ryler tried to sneak out from under the bed he would open his eyes to the white stare of his long sense dead mother the raw sight of a deep gash across he neck made his eyes water, most of all Ryler remembered his mother’s arms as they faced unnatural angles. It wasn’t until his father Druan returned that Ryler was able to leave the shelter of the bed.

Ryler and his father Druan had left home with less than a single pack of food and water, migrating northeast towards the Valley where rumors of lush green forests and farms as far as the eyes could see lay waiting, free from war, free from strife.

It was some time before Duran opened up to Ryler about the invasion of Ryler's hometown by an army who called themselves the Barrows. Druan explained that the Barrows had built an army of slaves, forcing them to invade the neighboring territories on the central continent. During this time Druan, fought in the independent militia until the clash of their homeland Ulbern. It was this conflict, Ryler lost his mother as he hid beneath his bed. Druan had made up his mind after loosing his wife that he was done with the war and decided to travel to the Valley with his son.

Initially Ryler told Druan that it was pointless that the Valley would only be overtaken by the Barrows like his home of Ulbern had been. It wasn’t until Druan explained that armies need to eat, they need rest, water and enough room to move not only men but equipment in order to overtake an region. Turns out the Valley resided in a narrow canyon, with little access, steep rocky terrain, and though the Valley itself had lakes, rivers, forests. There was little to no natural resources for several days leading into the valley. It had taken the two several days to get to the Valley proper, by the end they had little food and almost no water left. Had they traveled with a third they would not have made it. It was this experience that reassured Ryler that they would be safe. Soon after Ryler’s nightmares had slowed to almost a stop.

For years Ryler would not talk to anybody about the event, not even his father. Each time Ryler was forced to remember the event it felt like hot water on frozen flesh. To him he relived his past cowardice each time he refused to go on a hunt, of when he would let somebody be bullied or even the few times he had backed down from a fight. It was later when Ryler had grown to man he swore to Druan on his death bed that he would never be afraid again.

Years after their arrival into the Valley Druan passed from the world, and with it Ryler had lost the final link of his past. As Ryler prepared Druan for the ceremonial pyre Ryler promised that he would make the Valley his everything. Ryler swore he would never rest should anybody in the Valley need him.

*

Ryler stood watching as hundreds of black and white wings beat the sky in the distance. The scent of sulfur and rotten meat wafted in the air. A prelude to the monsters. It wasn’t hard to understand what was coming. It was death, death of hundreds. Death to those who charged Ryler with their lives. Though it was a futile effort, Ryler set the pyre alight, a signal to the lower villages that trouble was coming, that they would need to hide indoors, in cellars, or anywhere sturdy, anywhere out of sight.

Feeling the heat from the billowing fire as it licked at the skies above, Ryler took in a deep breath, the crackling of the fire echoing in the back of his mind; Closing his eyes with his head tilted towards the heavens Ryler cleared his thoughts. It was something he had learned early on in his life. His father taught him before each hunt to do this, talking about the necessity to have a clear and level head whenever entering into a stressful situation.

Slowing his breathing, Ryler could hear the crackling of the fire fade as the sounds of winged thunder broke the skies above.

With eyes closed and a voice hoarse from the smoke, Ryler spoke softly to himself.

“They’re here.”