The Guardians of Time

"There weren’t always dragons in the valley," I began. Three tiny faces stared at me. Eyes widened, jaws dropped, and heads tilted. These children weren’t even born yet when the dragons arrived. They didn't know life without them. They didn't know what it was like to see flowers bursting with reds, oranges, and pinks. To taste fruit freshly picked from the vine. To walk through the valley and run their fingers over the top of waving grass as a cool breeze washed over them. All they knew was char and fire, the dark gray that covered the smoldering valley floor, and the holes carved into the sides of the mountains to make the dragons’ caves.

A constant flow of smoke billowed up the mountain. It draped the cobblestone streets in a black hue, and ash flakes layered anything the sun touched. I wanted to tell them of better times. I wanted them to know what I knew, but I couldn't.

"Mr. Irvain!" the kids shouted.

"Mr. Irvain!" rang again.

Getting lost in thoughts of the past was too easy when wishing it would become the present.

"Sorry kids, when I see rare fruit my mind wanders to the old'n days. To answer your question, these are peaches." Their young hands mimicked mine as I brushed my thumb across the exterior, feeling the tiny hairs that coated the surface. I could see the amazement in their eyes as they awed and giggled.

"Peaches!" they repeated in unison. Their mouths watered, and their tongues rolled across their lips.

Fruit is a luxury in this village and grows in only one place. As water melting from the ice caps above collects on the plateaus that protrude from the mountain walls, it creates nutrient rich pools. When mixed with the ash that has settled on the surface of the soil, the land becomes extremely fertile. Planting there is high risk and high reward. The green dragons, who are smaller than their blue brothers, like to nest in the icy turquoise water or in the flowering bushes nearby.

I jammed my hand into my pocket. I knew there must be at least one coin in there somewhere. I could feel the cool, bumpy face and imperfect edges, but it made no noise. The sweetest sound is that of a full coin purse; the music coins can make together rivals that of an orchestra. They can also make the saddest of sounds when they are alone and decide to remain silent. "How can I deny these kids something they've never had before and may never get the chance to have again?" I asked myself. I pulled the coin from my pocket, glanced at it, rolled it between my fingers, and flipped it to the merchant.

"Peaches all around!" I said.

Their eyebrows shot up, their cheeks turned a light pink, and grins appeared across their little faces. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" they said.

"Now get out of here. Go enjoy those." I said, shewing them away.

The kids ran down the hill happy, smiling, and laughing. I watched them run off, hoping I gave them a taste of what I wished my childhood had been like. The feeling of a good deed disappeared as the crisp image of their bright clothes faded into the smog.

"Is it cruel to plant dreams of a better world in someone so young?" I said to the two men standing behind them. Neither man answered. One was just short of a giant by common standards. His shoulders were broader than a doorway, his biceps as thick as my thigh, but he had a brain about as large as my big toe. Rutger was his name. Every member of the Merchant's Guild receives a bodyguard after initiation. They say "it is for your safety", but I just think it is a way for them to protect their investment. In the beginning, I just called him "Guard" since that is all he was to me. The second man, Mr. Graham Denmir, was much smaller in stature but still well toned for his size. His skin was pale, and his eyes appeared to squint naturally.

The silence of the two men brought me back to reality. "Where are my manners? This is Rutger; he mostly speaks in grunts, but once you get to know him, he’s actually a big teddy bear. If you don’t know him…" Rutger made eye contact with Graham, scoffed and popped his knuckles as he balled them into fists. "Well, you get the idea." I cautioned.

The wind had shifted the smoke up into the streets, providing a rare opportunity to see the valley floor and the glittering serpents that nested there. Sunlight reflected off their glittered exterior, turning them into precious gems floating against a backdrop of scourged earth. Graham, whom I had asked to meet with, watched me with keen eyes, as if trying to peer into my soul and understand my true intentions. He was calmer than I expected, and something about him seemed overly confident. His jaw line was straight and his head was full of thick black hair. His eyes shimmered such bright blue they could have passed for dragon scales.

"Why do we stay here when there are dragon-free lands out there and places where we could have better lives with less struggle, less fear, and less death?" my tone intentionally revealing frustration, hoping to get an emotional response. I felt my fingernails dig into my palms and my jaw stiffened.

Graham responded, "Everyone serves the lords of this land. Everyone knows if they packed up and moved on, the King's soldiers would either kill them at the border or throw them in prison."

He was right. Hearing someone else say it only reaffirmed my frustration, yet my fingers released and my jaw relaxed.

"Right, you are my friend! People don't leave Bogden! Not unless you're a merchant from one of the four major Guilds and have an endorsed scroll from the Guild Liege," I said.

"The minerals in these mountains are too valuable. The plants and roots that grow here have strong healing properties. Someone has to pick them, harvest them, and refine them. The trees here grow taller and thicker than anywhere else. You can build two homes with a single tree," he replied.

I ranted all my grievances while he countered with excuses as we walked to the cliff’s edge for a better glimpse of the dragon lands below. He strolled beside me with his hands in his pockets.

"But there’s one thing I know and others don’t," I announced.

"The general population thinks about the dragons' arrival in the wrong way. They see the dragons as a problem instead of asking, What drew them to our valley? What does our valley have that others don’t? We've all heard the myths, legends, and rumors about dragons inhabiting valleys for periods of time and then moving on. If they don’t stay somewhere forever, then how do they choose where they live next?", I probed.

His interest peaked, and he added, "They clearly aren’t here for the view, and taking off from the valley is difficult from what I’ve seen. They have to work and struggle to flap their large wings to lift out of the valley, or climb to the top of the mountain to leap off. It isn't the abundance of caves because not all of them sleep in caves. Some nest on the plateaus in the mountains, some lie under the trees, some seem to sleep underwater down in the loch."

"So, then why?" I replied. Getting him to talk proved difficult, but I needed to understand how he truly felt about life here and the dragons.

All I got was a long pause.

"I’ll tell you why! I risked my life…"

"Hmph," Rutger grunted.

"Oh hush! We nearly died, I tell you!" I proclaimed with a finger to the sky.

"As I was saying..." I continued.

"I know what you’re thinking, friend. It must be shiny, glittery, or gold. That’s where you’d be wrong. That’s what everyone before me thought, too. That’s why so many dragon looters before me died. They believed the stories; they believed the rumors that there’s a massive treasure hidden below one of these dragon's nests. That they come to protect anything that sparkles in the mountain's darkness. Some even say they can smell it, deep in the earth. It's a nice dream, but it’s wrong. Oh, so wrong!" I said with a smirk.

"If you know, then why haven't you done anything about it?" Graham gesturing down the mountain with both hands.

"That is precisely why I am here, my young friend. I pose a new question, something that no one ever seemed to notice. Once you’ve solved the puzzle, you see a completely different image. And friend, since I can't pull off this heist without you, I’ll tell you that question. When you hear the question, you're going to beg to help me. That is why I haven’t mentioned a price or told you what your cut will be. Once I tell you, once you’ve heard the words, once the idea has taken root in your mind, once your head begins to dream of the possibilities, there’s no backing out. "

Graham's head swiveled towards Rutger, then back over the edge of the cliff. It wouldn't take more than a quick extension of the big man's arm for Graham to know what it feels like to fly.

"Don't look at him. Look at me." I said steadily. Taking a few steps closer to him. "I'm the one with the answers. I may be a kind man, but I’m also a careful man." I spoke in almost a whisper. "Are you sure you want in?"

He stepped back, picked up a rock, studied it, and threw it off the cliff’s edge. A plume of black dust erupted from the ground as the rock collided with the earth and sank. He let out a soft, defeated sigh, knowing he had no choice. "Yes, I’m sure," he said, with a veil of curiosity drawn across his eyes.

I leaned in, looked him in the eye, and said…

"Have you ever seen an old dragon?".