There weren't always dragons in the Valley...

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. As a matter of fact, there weren’t many dragons anywhere near where humans lived. The kept themselves to themselves in the mountains and, apart from the odd bone-chilling screech and a few missing sheep when their diet tired of wild boar, most people forgot they were even there.

But it was Nim, on his regular run to Flurintina who discovered that his short-cut along Reeker’s Pass, through the Blossom Valley, was going to be a tad more challenging than normal.

It’s hard not to notice eighty-seven dragons no matter where you might find them but even before Nim had rounded the final bend into the Valley, he had a strong suspicion that something was up.

First, there was the smoke. The dragons hadn’t been inconsiderate enough to set light to all the trees but they had a habit of intermittently practicing their fire-breathing, shooting jets of flame into the air. After observing them for several hours that morning, Nim suspected they were showing off, either to him or to each other. A few seemed to use the fire-breathing as a method of clearing their sinuses but the elaborate displays and patterns that most of them demonstrated suggested it was less about freeing up clogged nasal passages and more about smugness.

Secondly, they smelled. Not bad. Not like Jacob Wethamstow’s pigs who were quite happy to spend the day wallowing in their own shit. Dragons gave off an odour that Nim could best describe as ‘musty iron’. It was as if someone had pulled a suit of armour out of storage and put it on display, without bothering to dust it off first.

Finally, they left a considerable amount of mess, a trait that Nim suspected might have been one of the reasons they were in the Valley in the first place. Animal carcasses, damaged scales, the odd tooth, bedding - the whole area was quickly turning into a dumping ground for dragon refuse. Nim wondered if the mountain caves where the dragons had lived for hundreds of years was so overflowing with junk that they had no choice but to move en masse to another location.

Whatever the reasons for their arrival, on that first day, Nim had stood at the top of the trail, looking down into the Valley with a look of shock plastered across his face. Eighty-seven dragons was, by anyone’s estimate, a lot of dragons. And the previously lush, green tree lines that had remained undisturbed for as long as anyone could remember now had giant, reptile-like creatures dotted amongst them, their heads, shoulders, arms and wings sitting over the top of the canopy of branches. The path through Blossom Valley that ran along the side of the stream was blocked by scaly bodies in dozens of places. A number of the dragons appeared to be using the fresh flowing water to cool their feet. Nim was quite thankful that the stream was flowing away from his town, and not towards it.

His first thought was that he should return home and tell someone. Probably the Mayor. His second thought was he should wander down into the valley and have a word with the lot of them. Potentially a ‘shoo’. Or maybe a ‘geddouddahere’. And his final thought was the same as his first thought, as he realised that his second thought was probably way above his pay grade.

So he executed a clumsy seven-point turn with the horse and cart and made his way back home.

---

Mayor Mustor took the news badly. The Mayor wasn’t known for his stoic response to challenging information and he completely lived up to his reputation by blowing up into an apocalyptic fit of rage. It wasn’t directed at the messenger - something Nim was quite thankful about - but for those that were present in the town hall central chamber at the time, it was a bit awkward to witness.

As was usual with these rants, the standard operating procedure was to let him vent for about ten minutes, ask him a lot of detailed questions to get him thinking and then offer him a cup of tea, a biscuit and a nice sit down. Nim was pleasantly surprised that being the messenger, that entitled him to a cup of tea, a biscuit and a nice sit down too.

A meeting was quickly convened, and once everyone was comfortable around the chamber’s table, the deputy Mayor opened up a discussion. She was a far more controlled influence than the Mayor and she had a fascinating blonde bob haircut that looked so precise and even, Nim wanted to reach out and see if he could lift it off her head and swap it for another. He resisted the urge to test his theory and took another biscuit instead.

“I would suggest a fact-finding mission,” opined an elderly man some way down the table. The murmurs around the table immediately suggested most people were in agreement with that proposed solution. Nim hadn’t witnessed many town hall meetings but with the added look of surprise on most of the other attendee faces, he got the sense that such immediate accord within this group was rare.

The meeting sped forward from that point. Apart from a break for more tea and more biscuits - and this time a slice of a delicious sponge - a concerted plan was whipped up quickly. A small group of select townsfolk would head down to the Valley and observe the dragons for a yet-to-be-determined period of time. That group would deliver a written report back to the town upon which another decision would be taken as to further action that may potentially involve moving the dragons on from the valley.

It felt a little procedure-heavy to Nim but he recognised that process and biscuits were the cornerstones of local government. As he was being asked to be part of the initial discovery group, he happily raised his hand in the affirmative when a vote was taken to rubber-stamp the proposal. He wasn’t sure if as a lowly courier he even had a vote to cast but no-one seemed to be bothered about his plucky little arm in the air.

All in all it seemed a successful meeting and one that Nim enjoyed even more once the final gavel had come down and the entire group decamped to the Red Lion for a round of ales on the Mayor’s tab.

---

Over the next day, the fact-finding mission morphed into a momentous event that had everyone in the town talking. The group appointed to carry out the assignment became local celebrities, something Nim had mixed feelings about.

On the plus side, his stock with the young single women in the town had increased dramatically and a couple of them had made suggestive comments to him that he had to ask his older brother, Russy, exactly what was being implied. Russy took great joy in explaining to his little brother what was being offered and with one request, even had to draw a picture for Nim. Nim was, of course, shocked, declaring he wanted nothing to do with those sorts of women and that he’d take Russy’s drawing and dispose of it himself some point in the future.

On the downside, Nim’s boss, Mr Goople, was not happy that Nim had been side-tracked by this dragon nonsense and was overlooking all the deliveries his employee was supposed to be carrying out. Mr Goople felt it was Nim’s duty to shun the chance to be on the fact-finding mission and get back to doing what he was being paid to be doing before the dragons arrived. There were a number of routes to Flurintina that didn’t involve a dragon-infested valley and Nim should take one of them instead.

Nim protested and insisted he was no happier about being commandeered to the mission than Mr Goople was but he was fairly sure his boss could detect such a blatant lie. It took one of the mayor’s aides to step in and politely tap Mr Goople on the shoulder for the courier boss to pipe down. Nim’s discovery was important and the young man should be there to witness the team at work by way of a reward for his diligence.

All-in-all, Nim found the whole thing rather exciting. The newspaper interviewed him. His parents seemed pleased that their son was achieving something other then driving a cart around. People gave him small gifts including a knitted jumper (he put it in his cart and reassured the giver he’d wear it later), a cheese platter (he shared it around) and most bizarrely a necklace with a small wooden carving of a goat hanging from it. The old lady handing it over swore it would protect Nim against goblins and despite the fact he tried to explain to her that the problem wasn’t goblins, but dragons, she got quite aggressive until he hung it around his neck. Strangest of all was Lilly Ibbits who tried to get Nim to take her four-year old with him so the little girl could touch a dragon and cure her of her nagging skin condition. Again, it took the same mayor’s aide to step in and insist that Nim wasn’t a babysitting service.

The team congregated in the main square the following morning, ready to depart. A much larger cart than Nim’s would take the six of them back to the Valley and it was packed full of provisions, scientific instruments, camping equipment and several changes of clothes for everyone. The introductions to the rest of the group had been swift and Nim was barely able to remember any of their names, let alone what they were there for. The Deputy Mayor was coming along for the ride. There were two security guards called Jor and Tarv who, despite the ridiculous heat for this time of the year and lack of threat, refused to take off their helmets at any point between the town and engaging with the dragons. Then there were the two ‘scientific’ people who Nim assumed would be doing the bulk of the work. The first was an older gentleman who Nim had a lengthy conversation with over breakfast but couldn’t for the life of him remember his name.

The final passenger was Mia Mande, the scientific man’s apprentice and someone Nim thought was beautiful. He’d thought she was beautiful for a long time but of course, him being a courier and her being a student of science meant he’d never even considered talking to her. But now, they’d be spending at least a couple of days together in the wagon and this was his chance to strike up a conversation. She seemed aloof, even as they all climbed into the back of the wagon, but Nim knew that once out on the road, that barrier would break down and he’d be able to regal her with stories of his travels across the countryside. He sat himself down inside the wagon, crossed his arms and smiled quietly to himself that his dragon discovery could possibly end up boosting his chances with the opposite sex.

A large crowd gathered to see them off, the majority cheering and enthusiastic about the mission. Nim noticed a small group unhappy about what was taking place, complaining to anyone who would listen that there were no dragons in the valley, the valley couldn’t sustain such a dragon population and all this was just an excuse to waste the town’s money on a pointless jaunt. Nim found it very hard to argue with any of them so he’d just kept his head down and ignored them, hoping they’d go away.

As the wagon rolled out of the town, Nim enjoyed the opportunity to offer the large crowd a small wave. He saw Russy in the back, arms in the air and whooping loudly. He saw the Mayor arguing with someone. He saw Mr Goople with a face like thunder.

But it didn’t matter. They were underway. Jor and Tarv were upfront steering the horses and the four intrepid townsfolk tasked with understanding why there were eighty-seven dragons residing in a nearby valley, were sitting comfortably in the back, watching the scenery pass by.

This was going to be fun, thought Nim.

Only when he finally returned home one thousand, two hundred and seventy-two days later, did he realize how wrong he was that morning.