The Art of Gods

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. My grandmother claimed her grandmother heard it from a traveling crumhorn peddler that once passed through our village. He told anyone that would listen that the Valley used to be full of wee, gentle folk that lived in giant, carved-out melons … until they didn't.

One dark day, the sun went away, blotted out by black shapes with enormous wings, snake-like necks the size of baobab trees, and appetites for melon-flavored wee folk. For seven days, the dragons feasted. High-pitched screams and the terrible sounds of reptilian gluttony could be heard for many a league in the surrounding areas.

I told this to Felip.

"Donkey shit." Felip stopped adjusting the straps on my ceremonial breastplate to put his hands on his hips and stare at me defiantly.

I stepped back to face my lifelong friend and part-time antagonist. I felt my jaw tighten, so I relaxed and took a deep breath. He stared at me expectantly, with a slight frown and lowered eyebrows. His nose crinkled up as if he could smell the aforementioned donkey's excrement.

Felip had long black hair, dark skin, and amber eyes that often sparkled with humor. His handsomeness was in stark contrast to my own countenance. I have always been very self-conscious about my curly red hair and pale complexion covered in a sea of freckles. Ironically, that feeling was often doubled around my best friend. I usually shoved those feelings down deep. Our shared sense of humor, love of adventure, and equal physicality superseded feelings that I knew were dumb and superficial.

He continued. "Sounds like your grandmother was just trying to give you a good scare so she could boss you around easier. Besides, any fool can see that those dragons are just statues.

"How many statues hover in the sky?" I pointed out over the Valley, where about midway, suspended in the air about sixty feet, was one of the more giant dragons. He, or she, no one I knew could sex a dragon, looked like it had gotten trapped in invisible amber. The creature looked like it could move at any second. When it did, its apparent rage, captured at the moment, would be unleashed on all unlucky enough to be anywhere in the Valley.

"Blik. C'mon. Everyone says this was likely some god's art project. You know how they are. Especially Bill. That one will do anything for attention. Or Mike. That god lost all his agates eons ago."

While Felip pretended to be an authority on what gods do or want, he finished fastening the straps on my breastplate. That was the last piece of my armor. Felip's armor, a ridiculous amount of shiny silver, was already done. I could see my reflection in it. Despite my bright red hair, I felt like a badass in my own near-black armor, like some villain out of the old tales. We both reached for our helmets and put them on. A tremendous roar erupted behind us.

We both turned to face the twelve thousand four hundred twenty-eight residents of Dragon View cheering from the ramparts and around the outside of the castle Norberry. I waved at them, as did Felip. The roaring increased. I'm sure my ordinarily pale skin turned the shade of a ripe tomato. I glanced over at Felip. He seemed to glow brightly from the adoration.

When the cheering started to wane a little, I turned to Felip and said, "Let's go before it gets awkward."

We turned our backs to our fellow citizens, picked up our dragon spears, and started down the steep path into the Valley. I led the way.

Felip and I had won the annual Dragon Trek contest. The contest was a tradition that went back longer than anyone could remember. Some joker in that distant past came up with the idea to bring people together and create a couple of so-called heroes each year. Their idea was to keep the dragons, the ones that never ever moved, at bay by having a couple of warriors walk the Valley. They had to be the purest of heart, the bravest, and most intelligent of all the young warrior candidates. In the eyes of Dragon View's adults, I guess an added benefit would be that the young people would be encouraged to be good little citizens. Besides, there was also prize money, a thousand gold coins minted with the likeness of King Tedward, the current reigning monarch. That was enough coinage to keep us paid up at the pub for five years.

All of the young men and women of Dragon View between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one were eligible to compete. There were over one hundred participants in this year's contest. The contest took place over a three-day weekend. The activities ranged from memory tests to feats of strength to even one event that involved writing and reciting a poem to the queen. The events were designed for only the best and the brightest to win. However ... Felip and I won.

We cheated.