Valley of The Dragon

Chapter One: Prologue of a History Unknown

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Most say dragons are pure myth, and there never were any at all. Some say the valley is where the last dragons were hunted long ago, longer than our histories record. But none would believe one still lives deep in the valley's caves. But I do.

"There were more of us once" my friend said in her booming organ like voice. "In the skies and mountains of course. Hiding in a valley is not a very dragon like thing to do, or it wasn't" Large enough to fill ten houses, she sighed as her long scaly neck lowered her head to rest on the rock beside me. Agora, I called her, though the name always earned me a sidelong glance. As if she knew something about the word I did not. Once she even asked if I knew what it meant. I did not, it was just the name of a place in an old children's tale around my village. A place the story's townspeople would go to gain wisdom from their wise. Agora was a source of great knowledge for me, so it felt appropriate. At telling her so she only laughed and said "a refreshing perspective".

"Us dragons were always few compared to you humans. But still, we roamed the skies and mountains enough that I would see my kin often" she continued. Looking over at her I leaned back against her neck and listened intently as I always did when she shared her memories of forgotten histories. "That was long ago, hundreds if not thousands of your human years. Hard to recall after so long in this valley. Though, there was a time when humans and dragons got along just fine. We were not friends, but we did not hunt one another, occasionally there were feuds over livestock and hunting grounds. But there were fewer of you then, and us dragons had never had need to learn greed. The world was plentiful and the hunting easy." Taking only what you need had been a common belief among my constantly drought stricken village. But I wondered, "then where did all the other dragons go?" Silence lasted a long moment, until she wrapped her head around to face me and studied me with her huge eyes. I stared back eyes wide as my face, with out the faintest idea why my question had silenced her so. Abruptly, she let out what I can only describe as a loud guffaw before settling her head back on the rock beside me. After another long silence in a voice quite for a dragon she said "few remember, and none know all of what happened, but that is a tale for another day". Nudging me gently down from the rock she intoned "now is time to return to your camp, night comes and the moon is dark so I may fly unseen". With that she seemed to glide her scaly stomach down the rock face of the cliff beside us, slipping into the air and down into the deep crevice as she went. Smiling in awe, I ran to retrieve my thin rawhide glider that sat atop the sloping rock opposite the cliff where we often met. In front of a cave she sometimes rested in. The rock sloped down a long ways and overlooked one of the small streams leading to the falls at the valley mouth.

In an attempt to imitate Agora I ran down the rock with my glider strapped on and waited to feel the wind lifting at my wings. As soon as felt the tug, I leapt off mid stride with feet still running as I lifted into the air. Not near as graceful as my dragon friend, but it felt like freedom. As I looked down at the streams a hundred or so paces below, I recalled my first few times visiting these falls at the valley mouth as a boy, and wondering what lay deeper within the canyon. And why everyone had been so afraid of it.

As a young man of almost 17 winters, I now had no fear of the Valley of The dragon. Even knowing there actually was a dragon living there, actually that is likely why I am the only one in my village who did not fear it. In truth, I could never uncover why everyone was so afraid of it. But the stories varied from, curses and ghosts to animals and earthquakes. But not dragons. No one believed in those.

My mind refocused on the muddy ground coming up fast ahead of me as I came in to land. I swung my feet forward and heaved against the wind as my glider wings swung back to catch the rushing draft and nearly hovered for a moment before touching down at a jog. Setting the glider on the ground I began to undo the straps that held its three segments together. And neatly folded them into a bundle to attach to the small pack I carried on my back. After a short hike to the small trickle we still called a waterfall, I began to fill my water-skin. Sitting on a rock beside it to drink I thought back once more.

As a boy I had come to the Valley of the Dragon often to gather water with my mother, before learning the truth of its name. Before the droughts began, before the battles began. Before my parents had died and our village joined the pilgrimage to the eastern wetlands, leaving me and my sister, Thyma to fend for ourselves. Even before I had entered the valley and met Agora. even as battles around the falls increased and the water lessened, things had been good. Not like now. Only a few remained from our village, mostly those too old or too sickly to make the journey east. A few others had stayed for their own reasons. Occasionally a few stragglers or wanderers from neighboring villages would still visit our small camp. At least now that so many villages had moved east the small trickle from the falls was nearly enough for everyone who wondered by. With a sigh I refilled my water skin and began the trek back to camp. As I walked I wondered if anyone else had found any food. Only one duck and a small hare hung beside my pack from that day. Hardly enough to feed the twenty who had been camping with us when I left that morning.

Suddenly a roar filled the air around me and the sun darkened. I spun my head up and around to see Agora fly high above me covering the sun, much more exposed than I had ever seen her before. Startled I watched in wonder when I noticed another dragon, no, a winged shape barely half her size flying ahead of her. Running just ahead of the 20 pace plume of fire that erupted repeatedly from Agora's mouth. And, there was someone sitting between its wings! without pause, I ran in the direction they had flown, the direction of my camp, where my sister had been repairing our tent when I left.