The Journey Begins

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. We slowly moved in as the other races moved out. They took our land, so we saw it as fitting if we took theirs.

The only problem was that they couldn’t see us. It was infuriating to go unseen by the ticks, lice, and mites of this world. We were dragons and demanded respect, and they couldn’t even see us. It didn’t take long for us to realize that this was why they had moved from the valley to begin with. They had nothing to fear; to hold them back.

The Valley, the name we gave it, as it was the simple truth of what it was, was the only land bridge spanning hundreds of miles and connected vast and different lands. To them, the lowly, the Valley was known as The Eighth Prince Rothing’s Valley. He was some Human Prince who had tried to cross the Valley, back when I was a brand new dragonling, some odd 7,000 years ago. My father himself cut off his path, for the poor fool had disrespected him. These people had never met him, nor knew who was a descendent of him, yet the name persisted in honoring the prince’s death.

We had noticed dwellings and villages popping up here and there in the opening of the Valley, easily seen from a distance with our great wingspans and ability to fly at high altitudes. They didn’t even know we were there. Though now it is hard to tell if we were even visible to begin with.

We never cared what might be on the other side. We were content with our land, and those whom we shared it with. There were humans here, and elves, dwarves, and lesser beings, who didn’t excel in intelligence, but still respected the dragons as the rulers they were. After all we had ways of making examples out of troublemakers.

But only if they could see us.

For years now they have been spilling out of the Valley and into our lands. Though we still strike fear in those who were born here, those from the valley and their lineage unsoiled with races of our lands could not see us, nor could we do anything to move against them. Our people noticed quickly and like the opportunistic vermin they were soon got the new ones to do things for them against us. We could not kill them when they “stumbled” upon our fortunes with crude maps drawn by locals of treasure lost to the world. We could not get them off our lands when the locals told them of decent sized acres ready to be taken. We could not fight back when men in training units were sent to practice fighting in fields were our dragonlings were nesting.

We decided we needed to investigate the strange land across the Valley. It was time to care.

Dragons left in waves. Some of us stayed at the opening of the Valley to their foreign lands. We anxiously awaited each leaving wave to return, but none ever did. This didn’t concern us at first. We dragons can live for centuries, and a day is merely a minute to lessor beings stuck on land. Several hundred dragons had left in the span of 500 years to explore and report back their findings. As hundreds of years dragged on many finally felt the effects of anxiety.

Most of the remaining dragons insisted on going back, because at least back home even some beings could see them. To them it was a waiting game, wait for the new ones to fully integrate and there would be no one left who couldn’t see us.

I, along with a handful of dragons stayed behind, with the hope that if any dragon would return from foreign lands there would be someone to greet them.

I was the youngest of dragons to stay behind out of the six. I saw no pleasure in returning to lands where I was not respected, could not defend myself, nor protect any family I one day may, and hope to have.

Out of the six, the two oldest died a couple hundred, maybe four centuries into the self-inflicted exile. One thousand years after that, two more left in opposite directions.

Pitorg and Sevif were constantly at odds, which wasn’t normal amongst dragons as we held each other above all else, but when we were all we had—well, strife became easy. One had changed his mind and wanted to return home while one regretted not going with his partner into the new land and wished to look for her. They constantly chastised each other for their views and on the day they both left had even gone so far as to throw fire at each other. If it was uncommon to be angry with each other amongst dragons, it was taboo to use ones’ inner fire on each other.

Pitorg quickly left for the homelands, while after the fight Sevif took off to find his beloved Ameen. Neither of them came back. Pitorg did not return with news of how our kind faired in our homeland like we had hoped, and Sevif became a drop in hundreds of dragons we awaited to return.

I, and my waiting companion ArgWard, were all that was left to wait. We waited patiently; we kept a constant vigil on the top of each mountain range that overlooked both sides of the Valley. Some days we watched the opening into the foreign lands, and sometimes we watched deep into the Valley towards our homeland. I knew that ArgWard missed it, but ArgWard was the pinnacle of dragon kind, which is to say, he was proud, he was patient, and he was stubborn. He never openly stated his feelings of longing to go home, but on days we watched into the depths of the Valley, I could read it in his posture.

Another thousand years or so passed without any incident. ArgWard was himself getting into the older hundreds of years of his life. I was just reaching my middle years, having come with my father when I was still an adolescence in dragon years. While he continued watching, I would hunt for the both of us. His wings were struggling to bear him anymore. No thanks were given nor needed for this was tradition amongst dragons. You took care of the ones who came before you.

It wasn’t long before his last hundred years ran their course. Upon his last days he had made his way down the mountain side on foot. The first two dragons who had died were still standing picturesque strongly in their stone statue grave. They had faced toward the opening of the valley with some 30ft between them. They had posed welcoming, still actively doing their duty hoping to one day greet the dragons on their return. ArgWard positioned himself center of the valley and some fifty ft deeper into the valley to the 2 already long-gone dragons. Except he faced toward the homelands.

I kept with my duties of getting him food, but I knew it was close when he no longer ate.

“Domor,” He spoke on his last day, “Go home. All the dragons who left were well older than you. Even Sevif will not be long after me. There is no one returning.”

That day ArgWard released his inner fire as it went. The pose he chose was aggressive. His wings were open to make him look even bigger, his teeth were bared and his claws cut deep into the ground. His tail whipped high as if to strike an unseen attacker. As his flame went out his once bright red scales turned one by one to stone. His grave signified to any dragons who may come from the homeland as a warning to return from where they came.

It became just me, and the statues of elders in the Valley. I didn’t know what to do. ArgWard told me to go home, but I didn’t really have one. My father was lost to the strange foreign lands from which no one returns, and my mother slain before we even left. I was their only dragonling, besides one other killed in her nest, her life cut unbelievable short. It nearly drove Father mad as it was soon after we lost Mother.

For a while I continued as if nothing had changed, I did my duty and watched for others. But it wasn’t long before I realized I was alone and ArgWard was right. No one was ever coming back. This didn’t make me sad though it just meant I no longer had to spend most of my days in a constant vigilance. I was free to do as I pleased, mainly eat when I was hungry, sleep when I wanted to, and try new things.

I found some wild goats and attempted to keep a flock of my own. I remember it was something my parents had done, only quitting when our lands were taken over. I attempted to keep a few plants I thought pretty and raised a tree from a sapling.

One day I heard an echo of a howl in the distance. I perked up immediately, from resting under my tree. I flew to the top of one of the mountains as quickly as possible. Being a white dragon made it easier to blend in up there, as well as giving me the best vantage point to spy from.

The howl came again, it came from… Do it again! Where are you?!

The howl again echoed throughout the Valley, and it came from the direction of the foreign lands. I dared not move but kept a vigilant eye on the opening of the Valley again. The howling came intermittently, every hour to slow down to every 4-6 hours. I dared not trespass. I waited patiently, but whatever had made the noise never came into the valley.

“What was that noise?” echoed a voice.

I was caught off guard. While I had watched intently on the opening of the Valley, I had ignored the arrival of two personages from the other direction. After thousands of years, days apart, a disturbing howl and intelligent beings.

They hadn’t spotted me against the snowy top. The two who arrived was a young man with dark sandy hair. The other was a beautiful turquoise dragon. Her coloration was that of the sunlight hitting gently moving water, the ripples of light you see at the bottom of ponds mixing with the blue water.

An actual dragon from the homelands. My heart burst with joy but at the same time I was confused as to why she was traveling with a human. I stilled my several hearts and stayed patient. I will observe first. I relaxed myself and became completely still least she heard me before I was ready.

The two traveled with the human sitting on her back. Despicable; we aren’t horses.

“Can you see that statue ahead?” She asked to her small companion.

I could just barely make out “Not so well.” Being as small as he is compared to dragons, his voice doesn’t boom as loud, nor carry as far.

“It means we’re close to the end of Rothing’s Valley.”

I watched as they approached ArgWard’s grave. Closer to me now, I could hear the young man better.

“He looks rather scary, not as serene as I’ve seen some back home.”

“That’s because he’s trying to get a warning across. We dragons are quite intentional. We think long and hard about the pose we are to die in.” She was smart too, at least some other dragons had to be around to have taught her that.

“So, what’s this one’s warning?” said the man.

“It’s a message in conjunction with the other two. Look at how they are and where they are facing.”

“They look more like the statues I’ve seen back home.”

The female dragon walked among the two first to die. “They are peaceful, they are hopeful. Remember some dragons had stayed behind in hopes that those who went on would return.”

“So the old myths go.”

She growled softly, “Careful, I lived with some of those myths. They show a more welcoming appearance while the one facing home is showing aggression. He would make to turn anyone back, while these two would hope to beckon all forward.”

“So,” the man said, “the statue is telling us to go home?”

It’s not that hard puny human. I scoffed at how thick he was being.

Immediately, the turquoise beauty pulled her wings up and growled. The only reason I could see her doing that for was to shield the man from potential harm. How odd. I remained perfectly still and against the snow she could not tell where I was.

The howl again rang from the entrance, and she reverted her focus on it again.

Unusually the howl came again.

“They are in pain.” The turquoise took flight quicker than I thought and headed toward the opening.

No! I had to stop her; I would not lose another dragon to that land.

I took flight. I was on the leaner side of dragons as she was and outpaced her easily. She started to halt her forward momentum as I drew nearer, already hearing me coming, but not seeing me. I had kept the snow behind me.

At the last minute I flew out and crossed her path forcing her to turn around or hit me. She flew even faster back past the dragon statues and hid amongst the trees in the forest. I knew she was no longer where she entered and would be moving to keep her location a secret. It was time to let her observe me.

I flew down to the ground and waited patiently. However long it took for her to decide to talk to me, was nothing compared to what I had waited for in the past. I stood still for several hours. I would have thought she had left had it not been for every few hours she moved to a different position. I did not attempt to track her moves. I assumed she tucked her friend somewhere and told him to be quiet as I never heard anything from him.

In the distance the howl had resumed its intermittent call, as if realizing no one was immediately coming. Whoever it was, had to have heard the turquoise dragon and called out more for assistance. I did feel bad for them, but as no one has returned thus far, I was airing on the side of caution.

I waited a few days, only leaving my post to get a goat from my stock as food. I counted them and found none missing for both days, which I wouldn’t have been angry with. I have more than I could ever eat at once.

On the third day, the turquoise dragon appeared in the clearing. I stood my ground as she approached me visibly on edge. Her scales flared up in signs of warning. I decided to stay calm. I did not want to fight with her.

“I won’t harm you,” I speak out, and just to be sure, “Nor will I harm your traveling companion.”

Her scales went down a little. She scanned the forest to the left and then to the right of us.

“Where is the other dragon?” She asked.

“I am the last dragon here.”

She looked along the edges of the clearing again like she didn’t believe me.

“I see 3 statues, 1 dragon returned home, and you are here. There were six dragons that stayed.”

“Ah,” I replied, “shortly after Pitorg left for home, Sevif resolved to find his partner in the foreign lands. He left the same day. I’ve never heard nor seen him again. I assure you; I am the only dragon left to live in the valley.”

After listening for a few moments more, and especially since the howl made an echo again, she dropped her defensive stance and came closer to me. Her ears were perked up.

“We must get through to the foreign lands as you call them. Also, there is clearly someone in need of help.”

“I will not let another dragon pass on. No one has ever come back; I don’t want to lose a potential friend if I don’t need to.”

She looked at me with an almost expressionless face. She then took glances at the three statues, and her ears went down.

“I appreciate your concern, but we need to get through. If it makes you feel better, I have no living relatives to mourn me; no one will miss me. I doubt others have even noticed I left.” She looked down like she was contemplating all the people who she left behind.

“You are wrong, for I would mourn you. As I have mourned the loss of every dragon to never return for thousands of years in my solitude.” I pause, “How many ‘others’ are you referring to. Have dragons become prosperous once more?”

“You never heard? The Dragons and other races have all made a peace accord. We do not fight amongst each other as races, and almost everyone from the foreign lands have been integrated.” She looked confused at me.

“How could I have heard if no one came and told me?” I had perhaps spoken too harshly as she positioned herself low to the ground as if I had physically struck her there.

“I’m sorry. I figured someone would have come back to let you all know.” Her voice was low.

“Everyone must have thought that, for no one did. In the thousands of years since we’ve been waiting we’ve not only heard no news from the foreign lands of dragons long gone, but nothing of our homeland as well. The three graves behind you died without knowing if there were even dragons to mourn being with. Now I’m simply wondering if the dragons who left just forgot about us, if those from the homeland were apparently capable of doing so.”

She could not respond. I looked at her for an exceedingly long time. Her coloration was simply exquisite to me. They glistened in the sun light and seemed to sparkle when she moved.

I realized we had both forgotten to ask each other’s names.

I stood upright back into what was hopefully a non-threating position. “May I have the honor of knowing your name?”

For some reason she released a cute little chuckle, “My name is Glouci. You have a weird way of saying things. And what is yours?”

“My name is Domor, son of Akomor.”

She again chuckled at what I had said. I myself didn’t understand why. Her chuckle was cut short by the mysterious howl. She grew serious.

“Don’t you have any compassion? We should be helping whoever is in pain.”

“I have compassion, I feel extremely bad for them, and if left alone, I may have eventually gone to them, but I became more concerned for a living breathing dragon before me, and not letting you cross out of the Valley to befall harm, than for an already injured possible dying unknown.”

She squinted her eyes. “If you hesitated, then you are a coward.”

I resisted the obvious bait, “Do not mistake caution for cowardice. You forget why I’ve had to stay watch here. I assure you in thousands of years this is the first time I’ve ever heard anything in that direction.”

“Then come with us!” she said excitedly. “If you would have gone to check eventually and you’re alone in this world as I am, who cares if we never come back. No one will miss us.”

Her argument was enticing, and I had given her the easy ammo. Maybe even, consciously, on purpose.

I looked at the three statues. They were sentimental to me, but they did not in any way indicate that I was here, not unless I joined them. I looked to the newly formed goat flock I had started, in a few years they’d disperse and be gone, the old dying and the young being born. They would forget me. I looked at the tree that was once a sapling in my care. The tree didn’t need me. It was firmly rooted, strong, and healthy. I barely tended to in anymore. There was just one thing I needed to know.

“Are other dragons interested in coming this way?”

She thought for a few minutes before answering my question. “We are only coming this way because my friend, or traveling companion, as you call him, has been having sleepless nights filled with visions that lead him here. Everyone is content where they are just as in the olden days before the foreign invaders. I assure you, that the Valley signifies only the loss of dragons, and honor of the watchers, whom you are one of. There is no interest amongst the dragons to come through here again.”

While she ended her comment with the interest of other dragons, the underline context was really about me; as in, “There is no reason for you to be here any longer”.

I had agreed to go. Glouci again made me swear I would do no harm to her companion before retrieving him for departure.

We started walking, as I insisted we left cautiously. I could not describe the feelings passing through me all at once, though I tried. Everything in me was on edge. My nerves buzzed every muscle with an electrifying tingle. I’d say I was giddy, though that is not an emotion dragons get often. If not for a description of the word I once heard, I would not have been able to put a word to it at all. I felt that my ears were hearing far better than any other day in my life. I could here every step of every wild creature within the area. I fancy I could even hear a ragged shallow breath of the creature that awaited our arrival. My inner fire was also misbehaving. I could feel in gurgling and churning, like it could feel the small part of me that felt uneasy about leaving, as well as drawing from the prideful part that had made a promise to stay in the Valley.

Being with another dragon was interesting. She seemed pleasant and respectful, yet she also held on to a part of her dragonling self that was playful and goofy. She would prance about to keep the mood light as we walked. With her companion, who’s name I was told was Kalsipher, she would make jokes and just talk in general. Kalsipher would look at me every so often in a very obvious discomfort, which is probably why Glouci tried to keep the mood light.

I let their quirks unfold as I was just pleased to take in intelligent creatures once more. I realized because of this, I didn’t care if Glouci wasn’t as proper or reverent as dragons in the old days were, nor that together they treated each other as equals. As Glouci had said, there was a Peace Accord, so naturally barriers would have diminished in the exceptionally long time I’ve been away. It was simply different. To me this change was immediate for them it was gradual.

Crossing the invisible line into the unnamed lands where the mountains on either side tapered off was terrifying. I almost had the thought of turning around. I felt like something should have happened, but nothing did. We just kept walking toward the now groaning creature. There was no apparent calamity, nor obvious obstruction or disaster that would have prevented the dragons from returning. Even though I briefly toyed with the idea that the dragons merely forgot us when first talking to Glouci, I refused to believe that. There is no way my father would have simply forgotten about me. I was all he had left.

We were upon the creature quicker than expected. It was indeed a dragon and he had made it remarkably close to the entrance of the Valley, maybe just a couple hundred feet off.

To my surprise I recognized this dragon. It was Sevif and he was a horrific sight to behold. I was the first to see him being a bit taller than Glouci, and at once doing so moved to stand in front of her.

“Don’t look at him.” I stated quickly in a panic. “Stay back. It’s Sevif, but something is wrong.”

Dragons are not quick to panic, instead of questioning me, she immediately backed off and rose a wing to cover Kalsipher. She backed off some fifty feet. and was impressed that she would take my heed so seriously. Of course, she’d still be able to hear everything.

I turned to my old companion. Sevif had seen me and made an effort to try to get up. I went to him immediately.

“Don’t move, friend. I am here there is no need to move.” I said softly.

Sevif relaxed. There was steady stream of blood coming from his mouth and various wounds on his body. There were portions of his body that looked like his grave. They had turned to stone and all around the openings where flesh met stone yet more blood oozed. I had never heard or someone only partially going to the grave. It’s as if his inner flame hadn’t left him, just simply turned to burning coals.

“Should have stayed away.” I heard him gargle. Each word coming after a very longs and struggled breath.

“Sevif, I could not resist your calls for long.” At this, Sevif looked guilty.

“Tell me what did this to you.”

“Syphon.” Was all he said.

“A Ciphen?” I shuddered at the name. That was not a creature even a dragon would willfully trifle with.

Desperation then entered into Sevif’s eyes, “No magic.” He said as quickly as he could, “They have no magic.”

I was confused, “No magic, who has no magic? I don’t understand.”

He gripped my front leg with his and even dug his claws past my scales. I winced put refused to pull away.

“The blind ones!” He tried shouting but with so little breath it came out in a quiet desperation. “Fear the Syphon! Destroy the Syphon!”

Sevif let me go and with great astonishment on my part watched as he, obviously painfully, moved himself into a curled up peaceful position and breathed his inner fire out with his final words, “Find the Syphon.”

He fully became a grave. Looking like he simply laid down for a nap. Which is why, I realized, he did it. There was no indication that he was in such severe pain.

We camped for the evening by his grave to honor his last day.