Scalesworn

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Sadly, years of territory loss, culling, and famine led them here. Despite the overall decrease, we’re still finding uncatalogued sub-types appearing in previously mapped territories! I never thought I would get so close to finally seeing these majestic…

“Olar! Get your tail out here!” Vrit yelled from outside the tent. Olar stopped writing and put his quill away, sighing. He righted himself on his sleeping mat and pulled the tent flap open, squinting in the early morning sunlight. “One would think we would refrain from yelling so close to dragon territory,” he mumbled under his breath.  

Olar reluctantly clambered out of the tent and stretched his arms wide. He still held onto his leather bound journal, holding onto the hope that Vrit didn’t have yet another arduous task waiting for him. The old man complained about idleness constantly, but only when it was about other people being idle. 

As Olar walked through their campsite, he spared a glance at the Valley. The survey team had set up their encampment on a mountain pass east of the territory. Their position overlooked the lush green scar walled off by mountains to the north and south. In the distance, sections of the canopy moved as dragons lumbered through the forest below.

“Ya done gaping, ya scaled idiot?” Vrit snapped. 

“Ahh!” Olar exclaimed, spinning to find the old man standing right beside him. Vrit turned on his heels and walked down the boulder strewn path, waving for Olar to follow, “you know we’ll be traveling around the Valley right? You won’t be going down and shaking hands, or uh, claws with them dragons.”

Olar frowned and fell into step behind Vrit, “yes, I know.” 

He looked down at the scales on the back of his hands. He was Dray — dragon descended — but he didn’t have a tail. 

He didn’t have wings. 

He clearly didn’t have claws.

The only defining traits setting him apart from the average human were the patches of reddish scales on his hands and along his cheekbones… and the fact that he could endure working with Vrit every day. 

Olar knew better than to complain about the old man’s language. Vrit wasn’t changing his ways anytime soon. More importantly he was the only person to offer Olar an assistant position in the Dragon Survey Corps.

Vrit stopped abruptly, causing Olar, who was lost in thought, to nearly bump into him. “I need you and Eian to carry the gear from here on out,” he flicked his finger at their two pack mules grazing on the side of the trail. 

“The mules aren’t coming with us?” Olar blurted.

“I was worried I would have to spell it out real slow for ya”, Vrit said snidely. He walked over to a mule and began unstrapping its bindings. Olar joined him and started working on the other. The animals fully ignored them and continued to munch on tufts of grass. 

“These are heavy,” Olar’s voice strained as he attempted to lift the hanging pack over the beast's back, “I’m not sure if Eian and I can carry everything we brought.” Olar stopped to look around, “where is Eian?”

“Damn fool thinks he dropped something on the trail,” Vrit grunted, “I let him go back and look fer it. If a dragon eats him along the way, the less I’ll have to deal with,” Vrit punctuated his annoyance by spitting to the side. “But I suppose your scrawny hide wouldn’t be able to carry it all.”

Olar looked down the trail, “I see him now.” Eian was still a few minutes away, jogging towards them.

“Ah, still alive,” Vrit said, placing his pack down, “I’ll be breaking down the tents, you take care not to damage the ‘lectrics,” he grumbled as he walked away. Olar shook his head in fervent agreement as he kneeled in the grass. He began working to adjust the straps. The last thing he wanted was to damage the only equipment that kept them safe from dragons. 

The present day Dragon Survey Corps wouldn’t have existed without the creation of the Lightning Fence and Staff. The fence was a set of iron stakes that created an electromagnetic field. The field could be adjusted to attract or repel dragons, it could even become a deadly electric barrier. The staff was an electrified baton, useful for defending against smaller dragons in a pinch. Both were invented by early Corps members after they discovered a metallic composition in the dragons’ scales, revealing their distinct weakness to electricity.

Olar exhaled softly, he couldn’t imagine how the first dragon surveyors did their work before those creations. Thankfully, dragons didn’t seem to actively hunt humans or Dray, but they were fairly territorial in certain seasons and mercurial by nature. 

Eian strolled up to Olar groaning, “aww, don’t tell me we’re leaving the mules behind.” 

Olar nodded, “Vrit wants us to carry the gear since the dragons are more likely to eat them than us.” Eian stepped over the pack that Vrit dropped and snatched the one Olar was working on.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave the fence to you then, dragon spawn.”

Olar opened his mouth to protest, but before he could Eian easily hefted the pack onto his broad shoulders and started walking over to Vrit.

Olar moved to the other pack, adjusting the straps for him to carry. Eian was a head taller and twice as strong as Olar. He was also stubborn and clearly had a problem with Olar being Dray.

He had learned to tolerate Eian’s abuse. It wasn’t much worse than what he received back home before he left to join the Corps. Olar had naively thought that Dray sentiment would be better among Corps members, but even among his peers attitudes towards his kind were sobering.

Over fifty years had passed since the Ashen War, when Dray and humans fought. Back then, dragons had roamed the continent freely, hunting livestock, attacking caravans, and razing whole towns that grew too close to their territory. The growing mistrust between the two countries reached a boiling point once the human leaders began to insist that the Dray actually were controlling the dragons. Despite Dray denial, stubborn leaders held to their beliefs and failed at diplomacy, leading to a bloody three-year war. Dray and human relations had come a long way, but there were still undercurrents of superstition and historic enmity.

The Dragon Survey Corps was founded near the end of the war. It comprised of both Dray and human researchers, whose work proved to be instrumental in demystifying dragon behavior, pushing back against the collective ignorance of both races. Moreover, it allowed both nations to find common ground.

In Olar’s mind, the Dragon Survey Corps were the true heroes of that war. Knowledge and grit had saved countless lives. He wasn’t thrilled that it led to both nations making dragons their common enemy, but what could he do to stop that?

Olar picked up the bulky pack and scratched one of the mules’ rumps, giving it a soft pat. They knew to avoid the smell of dragons and would follow the trail back to the waystation. He adjusted the pack on his shoulders as he walked back to Vrit and Eian. From the distance, he could see that the two men had broken down the campsite and were looking out at the Valley.

“We want to head to that ridge over there,” Vrit said, pointing northwest at a distant peak. “We'll get there before dusk if we keep a good pace.” He looked back at Olar as he caught up to them, “no lagging to gawk at every winged shadow ya see.” The old man put his hands on the straps of his own pack and puffed out his chest, “if a dragon comes near, what do you do?” Olar and Eian responded in unison, “get low, find cover, stick together,” Eian rolled his eyes, bored. Prompting a quick slap to the back of the head from Vrit.

“Ow!” Eian shouted, rubbing his head.

Vrit was already walking along the ridge talking over his shoulder. “If safety bores you boy, you can always take your chances running, I’m sure any dragon would love to have a quick snack,” he sniggered.

Olar grinned and quickly looked away once he noticed Eian glaring at him. He growled as Olar walked by, “you’ll be dragon food before any of us.”

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The sun beamed high as they traversed the ridge of the Valley. They had been walking well into midday. The path had become rockier and more uneven with less plant life around to provide shade. Olar took a sip from his canteen and clipped it back to his pack. He was sweating as much from the sun as from the exertion, but complaining wouldn’t help now. The sounds of birds and insects carried up from the valley floor as the group descended single file down a steeper part of the trail. Vrit whistled, pointing at a dragon flying in the distance, “eyes up boys.” Eian looked up, but Olar had already spotted it.

“A Blue Vinetail!” Olar exclaimed excitedly.

Though it was hard to gauge from where they were, the dragon’s body looked larger than two wagons front to back, a long sinuous tail flowed behind it, doubling its total length.

“Good eye,” Vrit replied.

“Good eye,” Eian said in a mocking whisper.

Ignoring Eian, Olar continued, “the Blue Vinetail is known to use its tail as an extra appendage, capable of holding things delicately or using it as a whip or a bludgeon.”

“Dumb name,” Eian muttered, “sounds like it should be called Blue Whiptail then.”

“Well, you’d be the expert on dumb, boy, maybe learn a thing or two about dragons before you speak,” Vrit called back. Olar stifled a laugh but quickly stopped when Vrit rounded on him, “and you, if I want to hear facts about dragons, I’ll grab a school book. Shut your hides.”

The trail led them down towards Valley and eventually sloped back up toward their destination. The group reached a narrow portion of the trail that ran parallel to a rock wall. The other side of the trail fell off steeply, the bottom hidden by bushes and small trees. Olar peered down as they began crossing the narrow path. There was no way to see how far the drop was. He kept his hand on the wall to his right to steady himself as they continued.

“Vrit, when was the last time you were here?” Olar asked, trying to distract himself from their precarious situation.

Vrit grunted, thinking, “haven’t set foot in the Valley fer some years now, ain’t had a reason until now.”

The Corps continually tracked dragon migration and had recently noted an increase in the number of dragons traveling towards the Valley. Vrit had been selected to survey the territory and get a more accurate count of the dragons in the area. Dragons were known to group during mating season, but the next one wasn’t for months.

Olar’s mind buzzed. Dragons were fairly solitary creatures. They protected their own nests and shared resources, but they didn’t congregate on this scale normally. Was this a new behavior pattern? Would they be making a new discovery on this journey? Deep in thought, Olar faintly registered the tickling sensation on the hand that he kept pressed against the rock. He spared a glance, still in thought, and found an enormous spider brushing against his fingers.

“Spider!” Olar shouted as he whipped his hand away from the wall. As he twisted, the heavy pack on his back threw off his center of gravity. He reached out to grasping for something to steady himself.

“Shut yer yap back there!” Vrit shouted as he pivoted back to see the commotion.

Eian, who was a few steps behind Olar, reached out his hand and grabbed him tightly by the wrist.

With his momentum seized, Olar felt relief wash over him. Eian had actually saved him!

As he opened his mouth to thank him, Olar registered the brief flicker of emotion on Eian’s face.

Eian leered at him and released his grip.

For a brief moment Olar felt weightless, the reality of his predicament setting in. His stomach clenched in fear as he plummeted backwards down the rocky slope. He crashed through brush, hitting the ground and bouncing into the air again. Branches cracked against his body as he tore through the saplings. The world was a dizzying green and brown kaleidoscope. His back slammed into a tree sending him spinning like a rag doll until he found himself rolling down the last few feet and sliding to a stop.

Olar laid on his side panting. His body felt like he’d been beaten all over. He turned his head to look up at trees surrounding him as his vision slowly stopped spinning.

Eian let him go on purpose. The look on his face was seared in Olar’s mind.

Olar slowly sat up, wincing from the multiple bruises he could already feel. As he caught his breath he brushed the debris off his body. Amazed that he hadn’t broken any bones from the fall. Slowly, he let the pack slip from his shoulders, inhaling sharply as his body protested in pain.

Olar felt a flare of anger in his gut. Eian had almost killed him! Olar didn’t know what he was going to do when he finally found them, he wasn’t scared of Eian, but he also knew he wasn’t strong enough to confront him.

“Olar!” Vrit’s voice carried down from high above, bringing Olar back from his darkening thoughts.

“I’m here! I’m okay!” he yelled back up hoarsely.

Olar gingerly picked up the pack and put it back on. He began walking parallel to the slope, looking for a gentler incline to get back up to Vrit and Eian. As he worked his way through the underbrush, he could hear Vrit shouting at Eian further above, they seemed to be going in the same direction thankfully. As he continued to make his way, off to the left he saw what looked like a small clearing through the leaves. Olar headed towards the clearing, hoping he would be able to spot the pair through the break in the trees.

As Olar pushed through the bramble and stepped into the clearing he heard a woman's voice.

“Hello, lost one.”

He faltered to a stop as he laid eyes on a dragon — twice as large as the Blue Vinetail — curled up in the sunlight. The creature’s scales were a dark iron grey. Its enormous head was layered with rows of spiked horns that traveled down its muscular back and between its folded wings. The dragon’s golden eyes were piercing as it studied Olar.

Olar scanned the clearing, his mind reeling. That dragon didn’t speak to him. Did it? The world seemed to slow down, matching the steady breathing of the giant beast.

As Olar watched it, Vrit’s instructions repeated in his brain.

Get low, find cover, stick together.

The first two should have been the easiest, but Olar had never seen a dragon this close up. His well of excitement had evaporated, leaving only bone dry terror.

“He thinks you are wise to fear him,” the voice spoke again.

Olar glanced near the dragon’s tail, where a woman laid in the grass with her head resting on its tail. Olar was dumbfounded, what was she doing? Did she have a death wish?

The woman stood up slowly, twisting sinuously toward Olar. She raised her head to look at him directly, stepping lightly over the dragon’s tail.

She was Dray.

Olar had seen many beautiful Dray women, but she was a sight. She carried herself like nobility; with dark tanned skin, a heart shaped face, and emerald green scales high on her cheek bones. She wore a vest and calf-length pants made from what looked like animal hide. Olar wanted to look away, fearing that she would be offended, but he didn’t dare take his eyes away from the dragon behind her.

“How are you near that dragon?” Olar stuttered, astonishment clear in his voice.

“Gharik? He would never hurt me,” she said, lazily looking back at the dragon who closed his eyes, rumbling softly. He reminded Olar of a contented cat, warming himself in the dappled sunlight.

She turned back to face Olar, “your humans on the other hand…”

Her words brought Olar back to reality, as he faintly heard Vrit and Eian stumbling through the forest, the noise of their approach jangling his nerves. He wanted to yell and warn them but he resisted. What if he set the dragon off? His palms were beginning to sweat and his legs itched to run, but he didn’t dare move.

Vrit and Eian were bound to find him soon, would Vrit know what to do? Or would their appearance only make things worse?

“Who are you? What do you want?” he asked.

She smiled, “funny, those were the questions that I meant to ask you.”

She waited patiently, her smile slowly fading until Olar got the hint.

“Er, my name is Olar,” he babbled, “I’m part of the Dragon Survey Corps, we identify and catalog dragon populations so we can learn more ab…”

“Learn how to hunt them. Kill them,” she interrupted, fury instantly alight in her eyes. Gharik’s rumble reverberated through the clearing.

“No, I would never!” Olar protested.

“I know,” her anger was gone in an instant.

“Gharik can tell,” she said. Olar raised his eyebrow at that.

“But your humans do kill,” she continued, “as do the traitorous Drakyn.” Gharik raised his head, looking past Olar toward the growing noise of Vrit and Eian’s approach.

“Drakyn?” Olar recognized the term she used as an old word used to describe ancestral Dray. Olar knew the stories about the dragon followers, ancient Dray who once revered and communed with dragons. He had grown up listening to fairy tales about them. Well, they used to be fairy tales to him, this woman was making him rethink that position.

“Yes, Drakyn. Our true name, long forgotten. Old as dragon bone.”

She walked the short distance towards him, “you’re a child of erased history,” she said, stopping in front of him and looking deep into his eyes.

“But history changes as we speak.”

Olar thought his eyes were deceiving him as she approached, but standing so close he could see the woman’s scales change as she spoke, the colors of each scale shifted in a wave from their beautiful dark green to an iridescent shimmering white. Behind her, Gharik rose from his prone position, shaking his body from snout to tail, much like a dog.

“Dragons are not the mere beasts you take them for. They are ancient and knowing. Our bonds make them more. Make us more. Wielders of fire, ice, earth, speakers of the mind. Though, I admit Gharik is rarer than most,” she raised a delicate finger to Olar’s chin, “he sees into you,” she paused, “he knows who you are, and who you can be.”

“I’m nobody… I’m nothing,” Olar’s whisper sounded closer to a whine. His mouth had run dry.

The Dray woman tilted her head curiously. {You are potential}

Olar flinched, she was speaking in his mind!

Vrit and Eian crashed into the clearing. Gharik whipped his head at them, growling as a gout of fire flashed from between his bared fangs. They both came to a skidding stop with Eian squawking in surprise.

“Vrit, Eian, don’t move!” Olar shouted.

Vrit’s eyes flicked from Olar and the woman, to Gharik. Taking in the situation, his demeanor instantly changed.

“Drakyn, my name is Vritan,” he said, with what sounded like, respect?

“We’re not looking fer trouble. We’ll be on our way.”

The woman looked over at the pair. She sniffed, “human, you may call me Auria,” Olar could almost feel her hate coming off in waves.

Olar, stared open-mouthed at Vrit, or rather, Vritan. The old man sounded calm, but he was clearly shaken.

“I swear on the scales, we’ll never speak of this,” he bowed his head. “To anyone.”

Auria turned from Olar and directed her glare at the pair. “You know of the scales,” she murmured, “you have met Drakyn before.”

“Yes I have,” Vrit replied, “they swore me to secrecy and I’ve kept that oath," he paused, "as I’ll keep this one.” Olar had never seen Vrit like this before. The stubborn man wouldn’t budge for an avalanche, but this Dray woman had transformed him into a whimpering servant. It was unnerving to watch, if he wasn’t downright terrified he might have laughed.

“Gharik,” she called out.

The dragon shifted its body toward Vrit and Eian and settled back down, staring at them. Olar could hear Eian breathing heavily as he stood behind Vrit. Despite the dragon’s attention, Eian glared at the Dray woman.

Gharik lifted his massive snout looking down at the men, he snorted.

Auria sighed, “it seems Gharik can see the sincerity in your plea, Vritan.”

She turned her focus to Eian, “your companion however, does not share your deference or sentiment.”

Eian started, then snarled, “I’m not bowing to you or your beast, lizard.” He stepped out from behind Vrit tightly holding a lightning staff.

Vrit groaned.

Olar stared open mouthed. Eian could be cruel and impetuous, but he couldn’t be this stupid.

Auria’s lips curled upward ever so slightly.

“Gharik has seen your heart,” she said calmly, turning her back to Eian. “You keep no oaths. Your life is void.” As Olar watched, her eyes bled from brown to the shimmering white of her scales. Olar opened his mouth to warn Auria as Eian stalked towards her.

Her voice echoed in their minds.

{Feed The Dragon}.

The clearing reverberated with Eian’s screams of torment. Dropping the weapon, he shook his head furiously, as if he were trying to dislodge something stuck inside.

“Wait, please!” he screamed. Olar turned to see Gharik opening his jaw wide, tongues of flame danced inside his mouth.

With unnatural steps Eian ran full speed towards Gharik, he dove headfirst into the dragon’s smoking maw. Before Olar could shout or even look away, Gharik raised his head and swallowed Eian whole in one fluid motion. Everything went silent.

Auria walked over to Gharik and placed her hand on his snout, “thank you, Gharik,” she purred. He nudged his massive snout against her hand in affection.

“You killed him,” Olar croaked, “you didn’t have to kill him!”

“It was necessary,” she replied calmly.

Olar found courage in the heat of his rage, “how can I trust what you say? He was an ass, and an idiot, but you just took his life!”

He hated Eian, but he didn’t want him dead.

Auria turned back to look at him, “not too long ago, he let you fall to your death and he felt no remorse. I wasn’t there and yet I saw it from his mind, or rather his…” she searched for the word, “…perspective.”

Olar’s fury faltered. How quickly had he forgotten the look on Eian’s face as he let him go? He looked down, conflicted. If Olar had gone back and told the Corps what happened Eian might have been put on trial and executed anyway. Though, it was just as likely that they wouldn’t believe a Dray accuser over a human.

Olar looked up at Auria. He couldn’t say it aloud, but somewhere, deep down, he felt the smallest spark of satisfaction.

Auria gave Gharik a gentle pat and turned away from the dragon. Gharik rose and lumbered into the stand of trees, his bulk pushing a few to the side, ripping out their roots.

“Gharik and I have seen what humans think of our kind,” she said, looking into Olar’s eyes, “you’ve seen how your kin are treated. They call you equals yet their hatred bubbles beneath the surface.” Auria glanced at Vrit, as if to suggest that he fell into that category.

“Forget this insignificant event. Come learn the truths of the dragons and your ancestors.”

Olar looked at her in disbelief, “you want me to drop everything and follow you? I barely know you!”

Auria smirked, “how well did you know them?” she said as she gestured to Vrit, who still kept his head down, “yet, here you stand, so far from home, so close to truth, still clinging to the ones who wished you dead.”

Olar shook his head, this was insanity.

Auria turned her focus on Vrit, “you may leave Vritan,” she said dismissively. The old man quickly nodded, “my thanks,” he muttered as he backed away. As he left he briefly locked eyes with Olar before turning into the forest. Olar had hoped that Vrit would say something to him, maybe even try to convince him to come back, but he did nothing. Maybe he didn’t even care.

The moment felt final. Like Olar would never see him again.

As the sounds of the old man walking away faded into the background, Auria’s shoulders slumped slightly, “you spoke of learning more about dragons. You may still join me to do so and return to your previous life afterwards, if you desire,” she relented. “I swear on the scales.”

Olar blinked in surprise at her change in tone, “you’re not worried that I will reveal your secrets?” he said.

“Gharik saw you child, we know enough to know you won’t. I also have faith that you will join us. Your feelings about dragons reveal much about you.” Auria’s emotions seemed to pour through her words, her sincerity as transparent as her earlier fury.

Olar couldn’t deny the powerful desire to explore unknown territory. To be this close to dragons, maybe even live among them, was something he had always dreamed of. It was terrifying, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity, could he? He certainly couldn’t imagine his future if he left now, living with the knowledge that he walked away from a once in a lifetime offer would make him go insane.

Wasn’t it his duty to learn more? To take the risk?

He was still part of the Dragon Survey Corps after all.

Olar exhaled,“okay, lead the way.”

She smiled as he followed her deeper into the Valley.