The Wood Dragon

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.

They were there now. She could feel them.

It made no sense to Caitir that she was only one . Their breath vibrated in her dreams at night, from the safe confines of the crannog. There was a hum in the Valley that, if the old stories were true, hadn’t been heard for eons. To deny it was tearing her apart.

She crouched down and laid her hands on the earth at her feet, the thrum travelling through her hands, getting stronger and more insistent. Why would no one listen – if not to her, then to the noise at the tips of their fingers?

Caitir shifted her position, moving her hands through the dirt, hoping for some sign that would prove her instinct and remove the last shadow of doubt, but she knew it wouldn’t come. She would have to convince them herself.

How do you convince them if they won’t listen? The words formed as a voice in her mind.

With proof, they would have to act. With proof, she would make them listen.

And the only way to get it would be to go into the Valley.

The Valley was the conduit for Caitir and her people. It gave safe passage to the world outside, without which they would all die. People did not travel beyond the ancient stone monolith at the mouth of the gorge. The last who tried were never seen again. This was deep knowledge, knowledge that should not have been forgotten.

She would need to prepare herself. If she were to get the proof she needed, she would have to travel into the breathing centre of the Valley. That was where the dragons would be. Burrowing deep into the earth, obliterating our roots with theirs. Closing the passage forever.

Caitir stood on the edge of a deep ravine falling sharply to the thick tree line. Light disappeared fast at the edge of the forest. It would be dark in there, like night, the canopy absorbing the day.

Planting her feet firmly on the earth, Caitir drew a circle in the loose, pale dirt around her. Raising her arms above her head, she elevated her face to the skies, eyes wide open. She drew in a deep breath, establishing a natural rhythm, and with each inhalation the dirt rose around her, encompassing her in an impossible, humming cloud. It travelled with her breath, obscuring her body in a funnel of opaque matter.

At her fingertips, fine filaments of light appeared, rising upwards towards the sky. The outline of Caitir’s body became stronger within the tunnel of dust and light. Slowly Caitir moved to a crouching position, placing the palms of her hands flat on the earth.

There was a moment of utter stillness, and in that stillness, a fleeting bending of the light around Caitir, anchoring her being to the centre of the universe. The dust fell with a whisper.

Caitir stood, her eyes radiating a lilac purple glow that slowly disappeared, falling deep into her eyes.

She set off down the ravine, towards the tree line. When she arrived, she reached upwards, sending slender light filaments from her fingers, streaking upwards, incandescent, glowing arrows. The lights hovered over the trees, marking her path. Reassured, she stepped into the darkness.

As soon as Caitir entered the forest, she could feel the hum. But from within the trees, it was so much stronger. It vibrated, and pulsed. It had a heartbeat. Every forest had a heartbeat but this was like a beating drum, amplified.

The trees closed in behind her and with every step, she felt clearer that this course of action would provide what she sought.

As the grey green light filtering from above grew dimmer, Caitir’s sense of time grew more tenuous. Had an hour passed? Two?? Five?? All could be true. Time meant nothing in these ancient woods, and she had never felt especially bound by the confines of time. Sometimes it was useful. And when it wasn’t, she brushed its entrapments aside.

She spread her fingers wide and pushed her attention out to the farthest reaches of her body and beyond. She was deep enough into the forest now. She started searching. This forest was alive. As her senses settled and spread outwards, she started to recognise the rhythm of those things alive in the woods. She kept moving. Her eyes softened and shifted focus and the fabric that joined the world unveiled itself to her. The filaments of light that made her, made everything else. She saw the glittering lines going from her fingers and joining with the illuminated tendrils reaching towards her from everything around her. These connections were not new, she was simply seeing what was always present.

Casting her attention outwards again, she thought she could feel something, other. Something not her, and not of these woods. She came to a gentle stop.

She felt the voice in her head, but knew there had been no sound beyond the sighing of the trees around her.

It wasn’t loud but it was powerful. It resonated in every cell, defining her boundaries and revealing her mortality. Her knees felt weak. They wanted to bend but she maintained her stance.

“I have been waiting”

Of all the outcomes that Caitir had imagined, this was not one of them. Something was hanging in the balance, and she felt the responsibility weigh down on her. Should she speak? Or simply think? The answer came, forcing its way into her consciousness,

“Quiet is better. I have been listening to you since you entered the coille”

That word. Coille. Here it is, here I am, without a doubt. She raised her head, compelled to see. As she peered through the filaments, searching, she saw a void. An area of blankness, like nothing she recognised. Even dead things emitted light, as matter transformed.

Her instinct drew her back from the vacuum and in that movement, her perception shifted. As the filaments disappeared, the void disappeared and in its place stood a dragon.

It was magnificent. Its skin moved and glowed under her gaze in an iridescence that she had never witnessed. It was not one colour, it was all colours, sinuous and intertwining. Its eyes were deep and dark and she felt its gaze penetrating her.

How could a being so intensely vibrant exist in that void? She saw herself in its eyes - how small I am . He (they?) was massive. His head lowered, allowing her gaze to meet his.

She couldn’t tear her eyes from him. His wings, although they were held against his body, were immense. She had no point of reference to compare him too.

If she died now, she would do so in wonder.

Caitir asked the only question that seemed relevant, the question that had been burning in her, since she had first heard him in the Valley,

“Why are you here?”

The dragon moved his head close to Caitir’s face. She could smell wood, and smoke and something akin to incense.

“Caitir, I need your help.”