The Vale of Strangeness

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. For a long time, the rolling green fells of the mountain reach lay dormant, serene. Its fertile ground home to many a farm and grange. For the people of the valley, it was a simple place, quiet and secluded; perhaps it is the nature of the Outside to appear where it is least expected. On such an occasion, when the membrane between worlds becomes so thin as to grow translucent before dissolving completely, from some strange hinterland the noumenal fingers of an unseen hand may reach into the realms of the mundane. And so, on one quiet late spring eve, such a thing did occur in the dark blue skies above our quiet mountain valley.

As the county paper reported several days later “In the night of May 3, 1541, between the hours of 3 and 4 a.m., in the heavens above the back pasture of Tillingham Woode, a light so bright as to exceed the sun in its luminosity shone and was seen by many men and women of the parish. Accompanying the frightful light was a whirlwind that whipped the trees and did blow so strongly as to create a fearful wailing that did affright the local farm animals. This wind was so strong as to even shake the window glass in its frame.

“A father and his son, fearing that the roof of their farm was ablaze with fire did rush from their home only to has seen a most fearful sight. They do report seeing the sky assailed by an inferno of many strange colours. To the men and women of the neighbourhood, they did describe seeing the strange lights coming from an immense black dragon with red eyes, very large and piercing. The two men durst not approach the strange beast and did hence flee to the village of Tillingham. Not soon after did the brightness appear did it henceforth vanish, leaving the villagers in great dismay.

“The strange beast in the heavens above Tillingham Woode has been sighted more than a dozen times in places more distant, as far away as the town of Wightsforde. Whatever such happenings mean, God alone knows. The God fearing among us must not discard such things to the wind, instead, we must take them to heart as a warning from our merciful Father”.

So, on a Saturday several weeks later when many of the farmers came from the countryside to sell their wares and talk about the matter, many residents and townspeople gathered to discuss the strangeness of the dragon and what should be done about it.

“I espied the serpent whence it first came!” said a scruffy ginger lad. “It was a dreadful apparition in the heavens. Its body arc’ed like the moon in its last quarter. From there I did see it descend upon the valley.”

“Oftentimes have I seen the serpent, monstrous in visage, as he has lain stretched out upon the riverbank” said a woman holding a basket of cabbages in her arms like a baby. “He does oft lay there beaking and grooming his wings at such times as midday when the sun does bake the earth” she continued.

“Whatever may be the truth, I fear the serpent shall do us great mischief” said the mayor.

“I too! I fear for the life of my son!” shouted a farmer.

“The beast must be slain! I beseech thee, take arms and fell the beast!” urged the town priest. This notion was met by noticable unease among the villagers.

“Perhaps we should notify the men of the garrison,” said the mayor to a man by his side.

“We should gather a party with guns, muskets and fowling pieces and wait for it to return” shouted one of the men.

“Nay” an old wise beggar spoke up. His dirty orange-brown cheeks were wrinkled and worn by the passage of time; yet, his eyes, though clouded by age, had a strange youthfulness to them, “Hear me now! For the wisdom of the poor, the old and the infirm is rarely heeded. I have travelled far and wide, many a strangeness have befell mine eyes and ears.

“In a place not too distant I have heard said that a traveller mayhap on occasion find, on dark nights in the wild woods, a sudden, brightly lit and monstrous living thing. Amorphous at first but soon ejecting columns of light and strange shrieking sounds that will affright any traveller and turn away any horse.

“But the traveller, should he not die of fright from such a happening, shall not be harmed by such a creature.”

The priest climbed atop the wall of the village well and proclaimed loudly, “They come from a far country, from the end of heaven, even the Lord, and the weapons of his indignation, to destroy the whole land!” He looked toward the crowd, singling people out with his gaze, “Isaiah 13:5…” he stated, stamping his finger on the page.

“And what if the beast has been sent by God? Would thou have us wage war against our heavenly Father?” retorted the beggar. The priest moved as if to respond, but fell silent once more.

“Perhaps the old beggar is right…” said the mayor. “Though monstrous, the beast has not taken nor harmed any man of yet. If we wish to receive no hurt then perhaps it is better to intend none, lest we provoke the creature.”

“We must do something,” implored one villager.

“Pray tell beggar, what would thou have us do?” demanded the priest.

“One of us–a man–should make the customary rights and journey up the valley to the dark recess where the serpent does lurk.”

“Alone?” cried someone from the crowd.

“Yes, indeed. Alone.” said the beggar. “Do not be discouraged!” he exclaimed to the crowd. “Although fearful in appearance, I believe the dragon has cometh upon us bearing knowledge for man. And, these gifts may be given freely to those who seekest it.”

“Whosoever should do such a foolish thing?” spat one villager.

“I will,” came a voice from the crowd. The villagers, having not heard the stranger, continued to speak excitedly amongst themselves.

“I will!” said the boy, louder than before. This time the villagers stopped, shocked, and looked toward him. He was tall, probably no older than twenty years, with sandy hair and a hardy complexion. He had the roughness of a young man who had spent his entire life working outdoors.

“Who art thou?” someone asked.

“I am the one who saw the beast first with mine father,” said the boy.

“Thou would journey to see the beast?!” said someone incredulously.

“Truly,” replied the boy.

“Why?” said someone from the crowd, giving voice to what they had all been thinking.

The boy paused for a moment, then replied, “When I gazed upon the beast I was fearful, but I didst not feel it meant harm upon us or our lands.”

The mayor considered the boy for a short while, and then asked, “What is your name lad?”

“My name is Godric,” said the boy

“Very well then Godric, go with our blessings and our gratitude and we shalt wait and see what become of thee,” said the mayor.

Before Godric had left the beggar made an aside, “Beware,” he said, “For they who enter the valley of the serpent, may not go back. They may only go forward and through. And, whenceforth they leave they may never return to the place it dwells.”

And so, on the fifteenth hour of the first day of summer, Godwin, the brave farmer's boy set out to make his way to the home of the dragon. The town of his departure, Wightsforde, lay at the foot of the valley, not an hour and a half's walk from his own home in Tillingham Woode and only four hours by foot to the head of the valley. From the surrounding mountains and through the valley flowed the river Twyne, clear and blue. For many hours he followed it from the town toward its source. While the climb was steep, the terrain was forgiving. He was a strong lad who had spent his entire life tending the fields and rambling among the hills. As Godwin made his way deeper into the valley the sun crept further across the sky. The once serene woods now took on a new foreboding. The knowledge that the dragon may lurk somewhere nearby unnerved him. What unnerved him more was the nature of the beast. It was not a simple animal of the land, bird of the air or fish of the sea. It must, he thought, come from somewhere else entirely. When last he had seen the creature, although only briefly, he thought he had glimpsed something. An otherworldly intent that had unsettled him deeply. Why had the creature come to his valley? Why was he so compelled to seek it out?

As the sun fell behind the line of jagged mountaintops the valley grew even darker. It was far too dim in the woods for Godwin to mind his footing, but on the banks of the river he could walk by the light of the moon. As he rounded the river bend the waterfall at the head of the valley came into view. The lush oaks and birches of the valley floor had given way to coniferous evergreens of an alpine reach. The valley sides were much steeper here, the terrain far more mountainous. There was also a quietness, a heaviness in the air. He noticed that the night birds had become silent. All that was natural had ceased. Only the creaking of timber and the chorus of quivering leaves could be heard. But these were not the sounds of a few moments ago, they had taken on new significance; this was a place where the facade of the Real had been broken. Then he saw it. From a clearing halfway up the mountainside, the eerie green glow of the faerie lights as they cast their delirious aura across the hills above.

From behind a thicket of brambles, Godwin gazed down into the forest clearing. For a moment he wondered if the dragon was truly there. Then, the strange light of the serpent ebbed brighter, red this time. He breathed as shallowly as he could. Each tiny motion he made with his body, each disturbed stick or leaf, sent his heart pounding so hard he thought it might stop. He looked out blindly into the night hoping to see something. From the dark clearing a light began to shine, dimly at first, but growing in brightness until it was so bright he could not bear it. It was the brightest thing he had ever seen, far brighter than the sun. He threw his hand up to protect his eyes from the light. He could see the silhouette of his fingerbones against the translucent pink of his flesh. He knew the beast was aware of him, there was no point hiding from it. So, Godwin boldly strode into the blinding light of the forest clearing.

Almost immediately the light extinguished. What he saw before him was beyond description. The dragon's visage was so mesmerising and unreal but also so horrific that he simply could not comprehend what he was looking at. Its immense body stretched across the breadth of the clearing like a polished black spear. Strange colours danced around the creature. He was certain that the lights were emitted by the dragon, but he couldn’t tell where from. It was as if the lights shone invisibly from within. On its great ferrous black head several brilliant blood-red eyes shone like embers. He knew they were trained firmly upon him. Their colour was of such brilliance and depth they appeared as if voids, rather than being made of any known substance. When Godwin peered into them he could not move, think, or feel.

Without uttering a word, the beast spoke to Godric, “Why did thou comest here?”.

Godwin froze. For the first time in his life, his fear was so intense that he felt null, as if his personality were completely gone, as if he simply didn’t exist.

After a period of time, he finally managed a reply, “To gaze upon thou, Serpent.”

Several moments passed. Then, a thin red tongue of light licked him from head to toe. Godwin felt sick, not just in his stomach, but in his mind. It was all too much. He would surely be killed by the creature, or perhaps, something worse.

Just then, when he thought he could no longer bear it, something changed. A shift, so slight as to be almost imperceptible had overcome the creature and the clearing. The air was no longer heavy. Godwin no longer felt uneasy. Through the sound of the blood rushing in his ears he could hear the wind in the trees again.

The beast looked upon him and spoke once more, “I came upon this land first when the earth was raw and young. The hearts and minds of men were pliant and supple. Now the spirit of man has grown hard and brittle.

“‘Who will ploweth this earth upon which I stand? Who will sow it with seed and make ready for harvest? I know the world in its fullness and make no time for fanciful things. The calluses on mine hands and the sharpness of mine thoughts—these are the truth.’

“T’is but a part thou see, ne’er the whole,” said the dragon.

“I travelled heretofore from a celestial land, whence I shall return. This place resides in spheres unknown by thy kind.

There was a pause before the dragon said, “I ask thee, Godwin, will thou accompany me?”

For a long moment, the world grew silent. The stars traced their slow trajectories across the sky. The night air carried the mirthful sound of chattering leaves down to the villages and towns below. Godwin thought of his valley, his home, his father, and his place in this green and fertile land. And then, to the beast, Godwin replied, “I shall.”