Soulless

Soulless

There weren’t always dragons in the valley.

Once you could cross the desert with only the threat of bandits or hunger and thirst dogging your steps. My parents often spoke of this time. A time when herds of elephants, gazelle and giraffe populated the plains. When the Gazi wild horses were one of the most valuable commodities of the land, and the wealthy landowners from the coastal cities made regular excursions into the desert to try their hand at capturing one. A time when fire and death was the last thing on a person's mind in the Serengazi. But, the year I was born, the year of the dragon, everything changed.

Some say they’d always been here, and that we’d just woken them from a long slumber beneath the earth. Stories from the ancients tell of scaly beasts with fire pouring from their mouths that plagued whole cities and were taken down by chivalrous knights. Or, of beasts with multiple heads like the hydra, defeated by the hero, Hercules. Others say the gods sent them to punish us, to wipe us from the earth so the land could start anew. Whether they’d been here before or not, our dragons were not so easily conquered as those past. Ours were angry.

The first decade was the worst. Their flames scourged the earth, burning through the plains, destroying ecosystems and devastating cities. Both human and animal suffered, and populations dwindled. Those that survived were hardened. We lived in a new world, a world of scarcity, fear and flames. A world ruled by dragons.

By the time I was fifteen, attacks became less frequent, though they still plagued us. Populations recovered, albeit slowly. Gone were the times nomadic tribes lived on the plains and deserts, moving like the wind across the lands in harmony with the earth and its creatures. Small villages with walls of stone dotted the landscape, staying close to the coasts and rivers. Very little was made from wood.

Our village was situated on the furthest outpost from the recently decimated coastal city of Torun. My father said it was because there had been nowhere else to go, but I knew it was because my mother missed the nomadic life of her parents, and this was the closest she could get with any relative safety. Though my parents were the leaders of our village, I worked sun up to sun down with the rest of them, tending our meager crops, fixing fortifications and caring for our livestock. The older men and women, those still strong enough to carry heavy loads, but old enough that they wouldn’t be missed when the inevitable happened, made the monthly trips outside quarrying for stone and scavenging for food or other useful materials. Despite the danger of being outside the safety of our walls and roofs, I’d always wanted to join these expeditions. Perhaps it was my mothers blood, or my fathers adventurous spirit, but I was restless.

Our community was close, with very little contact with other villages unless absolutely necessary. There were less than twenty people under 20 years old, only a handful of those small children. I was one of those still considered young, and one of the few left that had been born the year the dragons came. Now, the birth of any child brought both joy and sadness. A celebration was held, as if to remind ourselves there could be hope in this world, but all too soon the mood would turn dark, as reality crept in. The likelihood of any child reaching adulthood was low.

The day I turned nineteen, I’d had enough of waiting. Today was the day the foragers left the safety of our village to bring back stone from a nearby quarry they’d been working for the last five years, and I planned to go with them. That morning, I told my parents I’d be helping our neighbor, Salina, who’s husband had recently passed. I’d done so before, so they didn’t question me as they left for the day.

As I made my way towards the open area where the group of foragers waited by the gate, I questioned my own sanity. What I was about to do was dangerous, reckless and stupid. Most people dreaded being chosen for foraging duties, but I was drowning in my current existence, like a wild beast in a cage. Despite the trepidation in my blood, I pulled up my hood and continued on. Silent in my leather boots, I slipped in with the small group as the burly guards heaved the stone gate across the sands, letting us through. There were no tears or goodbyes from the rest of the village, only silent looks, looks that spoke volumes. The return would bring the tears, tears of joy and relief, but not now. Now, eyes were dry as everyone went about their daily tasks, trying to ignore the departing group and the potential hell that awaited them.

With our hoods up, and fear keeping everyone focused on the skies, no one paid me any mind as we trudged out onto the now barren landscape. I stayed behind the oxen, knowing I’d be less noticeable covered in the dust from their dragging hooves. I knew I’d be found eventually, everyone knew the chieftains daughter, but by then it would be too late to turn back. At least, that’s what I was counting on.

Though the fear in the air was palpable, a weight lifted from my chest the further we got from the walls of our village, and I felt a smile tug at my lips. The last time I’d been outside our walls was ten years ago, when we’d been forced to leave the village I’d been born in. Ten years stuck in a monotony of fear and apathy. I needed this.

Someone began humming; a halting, vibrating sort of sound, no doubt to keep the fear at bay, but they were quickly shushed by another. Silence was our advantage. I knew all of these people, but even I had trouble recognizing individuals as the gray of our cloaks turned white with sand, and faces coated with dust. The color of our cloaks was no coincidence. If we spotted dragons overhead, we’d fall to the earth in a cluster, praying to the gods we weren’t spotted. Sometimes they’d continue on, mistaking us for piles of rocks. At least, that was what we did in the village if we were ever unfortunate enough to be caught out in the open. I could only imagine it was the same protocol for the foragers.

I don’t know how long we walked, my mind was too caught up in the landscape around us, but finally, I saw the rocky outcroppings ahead; our destination. In the midday heat, we knew we were as safe as we’d ever be, as most of the dragons slept at this time, but our leader, an older man named Ulric, held his fist up, bringing us all to a halt. He scanned the skies, then brought a telescope to his eye and searched the rocks. My heart thundered as I remembered then, feeling foolish for not thinking of it sooner. Though we’d lived with these creatures for almost 20 years, we knew precious little about them. One thing we did know. Dragons slept on large rocks. They liked how they held the warmth of the sun, and how they provided a vantage point in their ever constant search for prey.

I began to doubt, worry creeping through my earlier excitement. How foolish I’d been. What would happen if there were dragons on the rocks? Could we turn back without waking them, or did they already know we were here and just waited to ambush us? Dragons were not like other predators, they didn’t just hunt when they were hungry, they killed for sport. If we were spotted, we’d be dead.

I began to fidget nervously, and I wasn’t the only one. The man just ahead of me, Lucas, kept looking up at the sky, his grip on the rope of the oxen tightening. A shadow flew overhead and we all ducked in unison, but it was just a hawk, and she circled once before landing on one of the rocks ahead. Everyone let out a sigh of relief, and Ulric moved us on again.

The group's mood relaxed as a whole as we made our way through the small boulders and began unpacking our tools. But, before I could set to work, a hand clamped on my arm.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you, Adya.” Whispered Ulric into my ear as I stood stock still. “Do not jeopardize the rest of us by doing anything foolish. Keep your head down, and follow along. I’ll deal with you if we return.”

My stomach sank on the word ‘if’ and I nodded my head. Ulric released my arm abruptly and walked off, gesturing to Lucas, who was tethering the oxen. I turned my attention to the bag I’d swiped from the shop early this morning, pulling out a small pick ax. Mimicking the others, I began to chip away at the rock, trying to break off pieces that were large enough to be useful, but not too large to carry.

The work was hard, and I sweat beneath my cloak, but I wasn’t sorry. I was outside the walls and I was doing something different for once, something truly useful. We needed more stone, both for building material and for repairs to the walls, so everything we brought back would be cherished. Even the potential danger began to bring a thrill instead of the fear I’d felt earlier, and I felt my strength renew, fueled by the adrenaline.

We worked for hours, and I found myself surprised and impressed by the resilience of these people, people I’d never really taken seriously before. Just when I thought my back might break, and my hands were covered in blisters, Ulric called out a halt. Immediately, the others started packing. We’d made a sizable pile on the litter the oxen pulled, and I felt a sense of pride in the part I’d played in this valuable work. My things packed, I hurried to catch up to the others, but I stumbled, my foot getting caught on a small stone. Kicking out with my other foot, I managed to stay upright, but the movement sent the stone rolling to the side. A glint of something bright caught my eye underneath where the stone had been, and I bent to investigate.

I turned over the stone, and almost fell back in shock as a yellowish light glowed with unnatural warmth upon my fingers. Glancing around quickly to make sure no one else had noticed, I picked it up, bringing it close. One side was rough, like any normal rock, but the other was smooth and glowed a bright yellow gold. With a thrill, almost like I’d done something wrong, I hid the stone inside my cloak and followed the others.

Our return journey seemed to go much faster, and was thankfully free of incident. My thoughts were so focused on the mesmerizing stone hidden in my cloak, that I hardly noticed when we stood outside the walls of our village, waiting for the guards to pull back the stone slab that was our gate. I’d become so used to the silence of the desert that the crunching of the stone on the sands made me cringe and I backed up a step, knocking into a hard body. I jumped, unable to shake this feeling of nervousness that had come over me ever since I’d found the stone.

“Whoa, watch your step.” Lucas put out a hand to steady me, and when I looked up, recognition lit his eyes in surprise. “What are you doing here, Adya? Did Ulrich see you?”

Lucas was only ten years older than me, but he joined these outings as he was the only person who was able to keep the oxen quiet and willing on trips outside the walls. He’d been a friend to me over the last few years, and I felt a bit ashamed of my deceit. I tucked a golden curl behind my ear, trying to resist the urge to look down.

“He did, and said he’d deal with me afterwards, whatever that means.” I said as I raised my gaze to his.

Lucas scoffed as he pushed me towards the open gate. “You are a fool.” He whispered. “I hope it was worth it.”

It certainly had been, I thought, as my fingers felt the small bulge in my cloak.

As only a true friend would, Lucas kept Ulrich distracted as I made my escape, darting between the small stone huts towards the larger one my family kept at the center of the village. I knew Ulrich would seek me out eventually, though I did not know what he intended. If he told my father, he’d likely be punished for failing to notice my presence soon enough, but if he did not and it was somehow made known to him, Ulrich would be punished far worse. I began to feel a bit guilty for the situation I’d put Ulrich in, he’d only ever been kind to me after all. My father was a hard chieftain, you had to be in this world, but he was fair, so I could only hope he’d show mercy in dealing with Ulrich, and myself. If he ever found out.

I took a deep breath before slipping through the hanging fabric that acted as the doorway to our home, steeling myself for the lies I’d have to tell. My mother sat at the round stone table chopping onions, her face in a grimace, and I felt my heart soften momentarily. My mother came from the famous desert riders of the Gazi. She was meant to be galloping across the plains, on the back of a good horse, not sitting here chopping vegetables.

She looked up as I entered, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features. I was late. “There you are. Your father has to stay at the wall for night watch duties, as one of the men fell ill. So, I'll need your help here tonight."

My heart sank. Though birthdays were not exactly celebrated much anymore, I’d still hoped to spend the evening with the two of them, as it had become an increasingly rare occurrence. I think my mother noticed my expression, and her eyes softened.

“Perhaps you can bring his meal to him tonight.” She said as she passed me a bowl of carrots to be cut. Nodding, I set to work.

Once darkness fell, I left to find my father, carrying the meal my mother and I had prepared. The moon shone a bright crescent in the sky overhead, her rays spilling onto the sand at my feet as I made my way towards the staircase at the east wall. I pulled my cloak further around myself as a chill wind bit into me, sending a silent prayer of thanks to the goddess. In the summer months, dragons were more active at night, but as the days got cooler, they began to slow. It would not be much longer now.

The men on the wall nodded to me as I passed, their spears and swords glinting in the moonlight. My father stood at the far end, his large frame easily recognizable in the darkness. He turned before I reached him, and I saw the flash of his teeth as he smiled.

“Ah, thank you, Adya. I was afraid the rumblings of my stomach would give us away.”

I punched him lightly on the arm, and he chuckled. “When does your shift end?” I asked, for I knew he needed rest.

“I told Thomas I’d cover the rest of the night. He is ill, and the others are tired.”

My brows furrowed, but he squeezed my hand before I could say anything. “I’ll manage. Now, how do you feel now that you’re another year older? Did anything momentous happen today?”

I felt my heart beat against my chest, wondering for a split second if he could know already. My hand found the stone beneath my cloak, as if to shield it, before I noticed my fathers smile and my heart rate relaxed. “Oh, you know, just the end of the world and all.”

He chuckled, before falling silent, and we both stared out into the darkness for a few more moments. At one point, I could feel him begin to speak, before he changed his mind, keeping silent. I found myself with a similar dilemma, as I went back and forth between telling my father of what I’d done, what I’d found, or keeping my secret.

He made my decision for me as he handed me the empty bowl, and kissed me on the forehead. “It is late. Go home to your mother, and I’ll see you both in the morning.”

I nodded, feeling a strange well of emotion and inability to speak as I turned away.

As I walked across the now deserted open area, I pulled the stone from my cloak, reveling in the feel of its smoothness on my palm. I turned it over, and a shaft of moonlight hit it, causing a blinding flash of golden light to shoot up towards the sky. I covered it with my hands again as quickly as I could, heart thundering in my chest. Fortunately, the guards on this side of the wall were all facing away from me, so I was fairly confident they’d not noticed it. I shoved the stone back into my cloak, and after waiting a few more seconds to be sure I hadn’t been seen, I made my way back home.

A shock of heat and the all too familiar sounds of shouting woke me the next morning, and I bolted upright, grabbing my cloak. Pulling the now burning hot stone from where I’d stashed it beneath my pillow, I hissed as my hands met its hot surface, quickly wrapping it in a cloth before putting it back inside my cloak. For some inexplicable reason, I knew I couldn’t leave the stone here. The screaming intensified, and I ran from the room, my heart pounding.

This was all wrong. Dragons never attacked in the mornings. Everyone knew that. I hardly noticed my mothers shouts as I ran from the house, not even pausing to cover my golden curls with my hood. I had to find my father.

Almost immediately, I skidded to a halt as the source of the mayhem revealed itself. A massive dragon stood in the center of our village, her large head swinging from side to side as flames spilled out in devastating arcs. She (somehow I knew this one was female) filled the open space, her agitated tail shattering walls, and sending rubble falling in dusty heaps onto the ground. Her scales were black and gold, and she shimmered in the fiery haze her flames cast around her. The screaming came from all sides as people fled demolished homes, and tried to outrun the fire. Fortunately, we had very little that would burn in the village, so the flames were mostly confined, but the heat and devastation was still overwhelming.

My mother burst out from behind me and tried to pull me back, but I resisted, casting my gaze over the wall behind the dragon, searching for my father. The rest of our people had begun moving towards the west wall, where we’d dug a bunker under the earth, large enough to hide our entire village, but I couldn’t go yet.

Suddenly, I felt a searing heat beneath my cloak and shouted in pained surprise. At the same time, the dragon snapped her gaze to me, her sharp tail poised in a curve above her body, and I froze. At that moment, I knew.

My mother began to pull me towards her again, her hands shaking in fear, but I kept my eyes locked on the dragon as she lowered her neck to the ground and stalked towards us, wings tucked to her sides. Hundreds of thoughts crashed through my head, fed by my fear and adrenaline, but I knew I had only one choice. One chance to save my family and my people.

I turned towards my mother, pushing her in front of me. “Run!” I shouted and we both took off towards the west wall. I heard the dragon crashing behind us, and felt a surge of relief as I spotted the opening to the bunker, one of the guards poised to pull a large boulder over the top once everyone was inside. I pushed my mother inside, feeling a moment of guilt as the force of my push sent her falling to the ground, but I knew nothing less would keep her from coming after me. At the last second I turned, darting right. I heard the shouts of the guard, but did not look back. I could feel the heat of the dragon's breath behind me, as she wheeled as well, following my movements. The best I could do would be to lead her away from the bunker, away from the village. My heart sank as I made it to the wall, and heard her roar close behind me. I hadn’t considered how I’d get across the wall.

Without breaking stride I climbed the stairway as fast as I could, running along the parapet towards the east side. The dragon roared in anger, and I felt flames surge over my head. I ducked into a roll just in time, coming up running, my lungs burning with the effort. Just then, I heard my name in frantic shouting and I looked ahead to see my father running towards me. I felt a surge of fear, but also pride and love as he came towards me and my fearsome pursuer, spear at the ready.

Making a split second decision, and really the only one left to me, I climbed up onto the outer wall and looked at my father one last time as I stood poised on the edge.

As the shadow of the beast came over me, I jumped.