The Reckoning

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Then again, Mara thought. A lot of things had changed since the Reckoning–the day the planet stood still. Mara looked out over the valley before her; what had once been rolling green hills had begun to shrivel into dry, rocky wastelands. The Reckoning had brought with it many hardships, the dragons included, but Mara could hardly remember a time before it, she’d been too young when it occurred. Most things she knew were from stories retold by others, legends repeated on by village Chroniclers.

The wastelands seemed to stretch on for miles in front of her, an intimidating journey to most, but it was one she made quite frequently as a scavenger. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous, and dragons were only the most prominent of the things Mara had to worry about out here. Mara pulled her tan scarf more securely over her head, concealing her dark hair in an effort to combat the desert heat. She squinted, shielding her face as she looked up at the sky; the sun almost blinding. From what she can tell, there’s no signs of dragons—yet.

Mara slipped from her hiding place, carefully making her way between outcroppings of rocks, pausing every few minutes to reassess the sky. The last thing she wanted was to be caught by a dragon. No one knew exactly where they’d come from, just that they’d shown up around the same time the Reckoning had occurred. Some Chroniclers claimed they came from the skies, great mechanical beasts from far away worlds. Others said they came from within the planet itself, resurfacing with other creatures long thought to be extinct. Their stories differed wildly on the origins of dragons in the valley, however their descriptions of what happened to the poor souls that stood in their wake were almost identical. Individuals ravaged by teeth and claws, others burned to a crisp. Mara shuddered at the thought.

No one survived an encounter with a dragon.

In fact, now that she thought about it, if no one survived an encounter where did the Chroniclers get their stories? Mara frowned. She’d have to ask one the next time she saw one.

Mara sighed, pulling out a haggard scroll attached to a loop on her belt and unfurled it. Part of the inking on the parchment remained clear, but other parts of it were well worn by time and the sun, barely legible. She bit her lip, squinting at the lines. Its legibility was only part of the problem. This map predated the Reckoning and showed a large body of water once covered the area she was in. She’d been following it for about a week after she’d nicked it from city records, charting her findings as she went. She’d almost left the city without it until she’d heard the group of men arguing over it at the Depot.

At first she’d paid them no mind, they had been drunk after all, a past time many had undertaken to cope with life after the Reckoning. But when their voices got louder, more desperate in their dispute one of them had used the word treasure, and that, as a scavenger, was a temptation Mara couldn’t resist.

Mara traced her fingers gently along one of the scribbled lines on the map and looked back up at the sun. If her calculations were correct the entrance to the treasure hideaway wasn’t far. She rolled up the map, haphazardly resecuring it to her belt before continuing onwards, slinking through the rock formations. It should be right…here!

Mara grinned.

A dried, circular clearing stood in the middle of an outcropping of rocks, almost sheltered from the harsh sunlight. Her eyes scanned the area, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Content that it seemed clear she took a step forward, carefully placing one foot in front of the next, heel to toe, heel to toe, as if she were still testing the waters of the sandy wasteland. In her few short years as a scavenger Mara had learned many things about the wastelands, including the principle of the mirage, that even though something seemed clear and inviting nothing was as it seemed. Nothing could be truly trusted. At a glance Mara seemed young for a scavenger, inexperienced, but truth be told she’d survived longer than most for those in her profession. Most scavengers in Elandria didn’t live much past twenty, and desperate times called for desperate measures. Mara however, was twenty-one, a fact she prided herself on. Her arrogant side liked to think her intuition and quick wit were to blame, and perhaps they were, but on a day like today she knew better than to test the irony of fates; if she were to survive she’d need more than her intuition alone.

Mara took another step forward, the sand and pebbled rocks slipping away beneath her feet. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of her face, another reminder not only of the intensity of sun, but that nothing shielded her from the skies;--here she was out in the open. So far so good, she thought, continuing to move forward. Her stomach tightened, forming a knot. If everything was going well, why did she feel this way? She was almost to the middle of the outcropping. Just a few more steps, one foot in front of the other…

A loud crash sounded as she placed her foot down, almost as if a large lock or mechanism had shifted into place. The sand began to pull at her ankles, rushing forward and down to the center of the clearing where a growing hole was forming. Mara sprinted into action turning back towards the way she had come, fighting against the torrent of sand and rocks sliding all around her.

Something rumbled from within the deep, causing a shiver to go up Mara’s spine. She froze, for a fraction of a second, eyes widening as she looked back towards the pit. Was that a voice?

Mara barely had time to process it, her brief hesitance enough to set her back. Mara fell to the ground, the sliding earth taking her feet out from under her. Desperately, she clawed at anything within reach, trying to find hold, something, anything that could save her from being dragged down.

Up above a shadow crossed the sky, blocking out the sun. Mara’s chest tightened as panic took over, with each passing second she slid closer and closer. She could hear the rocks behind her plummeting towards the center of the earth. She kicked and flailed, trying to use her legs to propel herself up, but as her foot came down it caught on nothing, swinging over a precipice. She dug her hands in deeper trying to find a register but the sand slipped through her fingers.

The shadow crossed the sky once more and Mara’s breath hitched in her throat, her screams drowned out by the torrent of sand and rocks cascading all around her.

Then everything was still.

The rocks and sand in the outcropping slowly came to a stop, no sign anything out of the ordinary had occurred and no sign of Mara. The shadow circled overhead once more before retreating, satisfied the secrets of the wasteland were safe another day.