The Call of the Flame

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley…” my grandma was telling me. We were out in the garden planting vegetables to prepare for this fall’s harvest. The sun was shining bright in the sky with the wind carrying the warmth of spring through our village. The smells of fresh breeze and churned soil filled my nose and my lungs breathing with such clarity. I felt so connected to the earth beneath my feet.

I’ve been living here for five years now. Since my mother’s passing and my father joining the king's army, my grandma became my guardian. It wasn’t easy at first, feeling like I was ripped away from such a peaceful life with my parents. It felt so perfect then, everything in its place, being raised by such wonderful loving parents. I have memories of dancing in the kitchen with my father while my mother laughed and cooked up a meal. Then suddenly everything started to change: my mother stopped laughing and could not stand on her own anymore, becoming bedbound. My father was looking to find ways to cure my mother. I remember my grandma coming over, laying pieces of wet vegetation on my mother’s forehead, and reciting something in another language, waving her hands over her resting body. I could see my father's face becoming more and more weary with each passing day that my mother was sick. Within a few months of each other, my mother passed away, dying in her sleep, and then the royal guard bursting into my family home, demanding that my father join the army to fight for our king. My grandmother, from then on has done everything she can to make my transition into her life seamless. Giving the space and tools I need to grieve and finding joy again. Showing me the magic that nature offers and how being a part of its growth brings more pleasure into your own life.

“… at least that is what we know of. I think they’ve just been dormant, waiting for their time to reign once again!” She threw her fist high in the sky. Proclaiming the voice of the magical creatures. She was one of the few people in the village that had a love for the dragons. Telling me stories of the power they hold, the magic that burned with passion within them. She loved their fierceness, their bold energy. How they fly in the sky. She looks up at them as if she missed being with them. Sadly not everyone saw it this way.

They lived in the caves high in the mountains that surrounded our quaint little village. There is no record when they came to Amuria, but the stories were instilled in the land. The conversations of the vast creatures were riddled with anger and fear. Many of the townspeople would tell stories of escapades to the mountain to slay the dragons. Finding skeletons of the brave men with the failed attempt to bring back its head. There were stories of children that would suddenly go missing, being swooped up and taken for their meal. Live stock missing, random fires in the distance, the loss of hope growing amongst the people.

It was hard enough as it was with the rule of King Barémont. He had taken over our crops to feed the kingdom’s castle with very little compensation. Rules enforced by the royal guard that were stationed throughout the area, using malicious methods of punishment. The air would shift when someone was to receive the wip. Cries at the square would flood the valley, with each crack the crowd would get larger and louder. And then stillness. The poor soul defeated and stripped of any dignity layed on the ground, too ashamed to move. Captain Farman usually performed the punishment. He was drunk with power, loyal to our king. He had a scar that split across his face making his presence all the more menacing. There have been many times he has come knocking on my grandmother's door, ordering demands of the king that she report to the castle for the unexplained actions she performs and lies she tells, according to the captain.

“Do you defy your King, Theodora? I shall cut off your tongue myself if you don’t SHUT UP!” Strangely with all of his threats, my grandma stood in her power, giving him a look as if to say “Try me”. Everyone in the village knew she was a force not to be reckoned with, she knew things that weren’t even written in the books. Many people would come and sit on her porch and she would answer any questions that would lay beyond the grave, passing messages down from the spirits that only close family members knew about. Healing the souls of people who were in pain missing their sons who were at war for the king, daughters who were married off or died during childbirth. She would have messages of the missing children telling the families they are safe where they are and will be reunited soon. She would create potions and elixirs to heal physical ailments of the people. There are whispers throughout the village that she was anointed by the forest to have the powers of healing others. Proclaiming her with the title of the village witch.

We lived a little further off from the rest of the village, very close to the forest edge. Our garden surrounds the front of the home for people of the village to take some for themselves.

“We feed our fellow neighbours for they work so hard to feed the king,” my grandmother would tell me. I looked up to her beautiful wisdom, always there for the needs of others.

“When your life is already so abundant and filled with love, you have to share it. Keeping it to yourself will only overwhelm the vessel. We are meant to share, we are creatures of community.” She cupped my face with her weathered hands rough from the work of the garden. She planted a soft kiss on my forehead sending tingling love all throughout my body.

“Everything happens for a reason, Elira, no matter how beautiful or terrible it feels, it's all for a reason of something greater. We must do our best to spread that love and compassion to others. And stand our ground when those who want to make us feel small, show them there is no way they can take your power. Believe in the magic!”

Like my grandma, I had a fascination with the dragons. There was a creek that flowed behind my grandmother's home that I would walk to each day, escaping the rigidity of the guard. Bringing along my drawing supplies to be inspired by the forest. I would sit on this large rock, slowly being worn by my body, taking comfort here each day and watch the dance of Mother Nature. The sun shining through the trees and a glimmer would filter through the land. The grass danced with the wind and the sounds of the rushing water, creating an ambiance of peace through the valley. If you sat still enough sometimes you would see little yellow and green dragons flying by catching tiny creatures that roamed the forest. They would land by me, sniffing my clothes wondering what creature they shared this place with. They seemed to be babies, no impressions of fear created. Just curiosity of what was in the world around them.

“What makes something so innocent, so terrifying?”

I would pull out my pencil and find a fresh page in my sketchbook and start documenting my observations. Drawing the scenery with a few of its creatures. Most of my drawings were compiled of documented dragons that I would spot by the creek. Their scales shimmering in the filtered sunlight, flashing purple amongst their green coloring. I would spend hours there drawing and painting, page after page with captured moments of a peaceful world. Feeling so held by the greenery around me, I was safe here. I would sometimes forget that behind me is my grandmother's home that held the boundary between peace and pain. When my hand grew tired and was fulfilled with the work I’ve done, I put my tools down and would lay on the grass. Feeling the warm rays on my skin.

Sometimes if I sat still enough, I could feel the scaly creatures crawling onto my body to discover a perfect place to nap. Curled up like a kitten snoring, creating little puffs of smoke with each exhale. Feeling heat radiating from its tiny little body. Why was everyone so afraid of something so precious and magical? Like any other creature in the forest, they are just as innocent as they are protective.

“Elira! Dinner!”

The wind catches the scent of my grandma’s supper tomato sweetness wafts into my nose. I looked to my torso to see the snoring dragon, so peaceful. I gave a little cough to wake it up. Slowly blinking its eyes, looking directly at me, our eyes locked. I then felt this flood of heat rushing through me, all the way to the core of my being. I suddenly felt that I was exposed, so vulnerable to my emotions, yet this creature made me feel safe. I felt this immense pain form in my heart, a sudden wave of sadness hit me like a tidal wave. The loss of my mother coming back to me, her holding my hand and looking at me with her sunken eyes.

“Remember Elira, to always trust in your own power. Don’t let anyone take that away from you,” tears slowly streaming down my face with the presence of the memory. I could feel it shift with the remembrance of the royal guard coming to take my father away to join the men at war. My grandmother gripping me tightly making sure I would not escape to be held by my father. I remember screaming for him not to leave. More tears streaming down my face. Relinquishing me of the sadness I was holding on to for so long. The final memories of my parents.

With this release, there was this overwhelming sensation of love that poured through me. Knowing how held I was being in this place with my grandmother, knowing that a greater force was guiding me throughout my life. So much pleasure flowing through my veins. This power coursed through me, as if this dragon had chosen me. Everything goes vibrant, colours becoming bright and overwhelmingly beautiful. Soaked with tears, with no more space to contain these sensations moving through me. I take a deep breath and become more held by the grass beneath me, whispers of the earth tickling my skin showing me I was held by the almighty mother. I can feel my breath slowing down and becoming deeper, as if I was coming back to my body once again. I slowly open my eyes, blinking away what was left of the tears. I look at the dragon, as if acknowledging our exchange it blinks one final time before slowly getting up and taking flight, going back to its family.

Still in disbelief as to what had just happened, I got myself up making sure not to move too quickly as I was feeling wobbly with power. I collect my things and made my way back to my home, arriving to dinner ready on the table. I can suddenly feel the call of hunger in my stomach and wondered how long I had been lying there since grandma called out.

The energy in the air felt different, as if whatever that dragon did changed the course of the future. Something big is going to happen and I was a part of it.