Wise Men Die

"There were not always dragons in the valley."

"What?" I tore my eye away from the spyglass and tried to focus on the blurry silhouette of Danjun. It took me a moment to see him clearly, and a moment longer to process his words.

"There were not always dragons in the valley," he repeated.

"Oh," I glanced across the landscape before continuing to scour it through the spyglass.

He snorted. "Alright, I'll keep my musings to myself."

I shrugged without looking at him. "Sorry. I'm sure your story is very interesting, but I'm more interested in ridding the valley of dragons once more."

"Aye, but that's the shimmer of the gold. These wyrms and wyverns are not true dragons!"

Just as he said it, one of the monstrous serpents slithered swift as wind across the treetops, flapping its wings, strong enough only to pull its coiling mass from tree to tree, hopping rather than flying. Far beyond, I could just make out a pair of sparring drakes, circling each other through the air, diving with deathly precision, and clawing with the sharpest talons and strongest legs.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. "Danjun, I've even less time for myth than I do for history." A heaviness I'd felt in my stomach for days was suddenly leaden. I looked at the sky, and said darkly and quietly, "In fact, I fear I'm out of time. I fear all of us are, up in these hills. I'm afraid that we have prepared for nothing more than our deaths."

Danjun slapped my back and chuckled heartily as I jumped. "Or we might have prepared for a most cunning and auspicious victory!" He stood up and towered over me, a hulking figure, and raised his fist to the sky. "I feel a wind on our back, a message from the gods, saying 'You will be the demons that devour these monsters from hell!' Remember, Phong, Heaven is mysterious, but its will is always just." Danjun finished his speech by smiling happily into the blue sky, unconsciously grasping the wheel of life symbol hanging on his hip.

A little smile cracked at the edges of my lips, and the weight in my stomach eased just a little. It was his words. But mostly, it was the radiance of his smile and the confidence in his eyes.

I gently set the spyglass down, and leaned back in my chair, trying to adopt as relaxed of a demeanor my pounding heart and racing mind would allow.

"Alright. Tell your story."

"Eh?" he looked down at me, surprised.

I let a little more smile show. "Tell me about the dragons in the valley."

His smile became childlike. "You mean it? You don't have important scouting to do with that telescope of yours, or something?"

I shook my head. "Spyglass," I corrected. "But, no. The plan is laid out, the preparations are complete, and the path ahead is clear, however daunting it may be. I've been doing nothing more than fretting over what has already been set in motion. Please, impart on me your myths, Sage."

Pleased as a dolphin, he laughed and pointed at me as he fell back into his chair. "Well, first, this is no myth! This is legend! The true dragons of this valley are found beyond myths, parables and ghost stories. They are found beyond history even! They are found in truth: ancient, plain, and unknowable."

The rhythm of his voice pulled me back to memories of when we were children. Danjun had always been the best storyteller.

"Long before the beasts crawled from the sea and the monsters from the mud, the heavens opened up and bestowed to this valley a promise of prosperity. As long as the masters of the valley were honorable and virtuous, all within the valley would thrive. But as long as the masters of the valley were shameful and evil, anything that called the valley home would perish."

Recollection clicked in my mind. "Yes, I think I know this one," I said slowly. "Then the heavens granted the dragons guardianship over the valley. That's why the emperors and empresses reigned always from here."

Danjun laughed and his elongated earlobes waggled. "I can always leave it to you to concisely neglect the finer, and often more important, details."

"Sorry," I apologized, a little embarrassed. "I didn't mean to ruin your story."

He raised his hand to halt my apology, trying to spare me. "Don't think of it. I was-"

"Prince Phong, Sage Xiao Danjun, a messenger from the forest reports that the trap has been set. Now, it needs only to be sprung." The messenger burst into the makeshift sentry hut, pale and winded, thrumming with nervous energy.

Danjun looked to me, and I to him. His grave and alarmed face was a perfect reflection of the abrupt fear that constricted my chest. His pervasive joy vanished, and the weight in my stomach intensified tenfold.

Looking over the valley once more, I addressed the messenger. "Fire the flares." Then, to Danjun, "Let us devour like demons today."

A thin smile dared to haunt the lips of the brute before me. "Aye, lets."

...

The sun was setting on the autumn valley. The shadows reached out to one another, slowly cumulating into the mass darkness of night. The light of the sun grazed the tree tops and lit them up like gold and fire.

"I hope I am reincarnated as a hare," Danjun quipped. "Just as clever as I am now, but far swifter, more able to run from danger." I didn't answer, but simply motioned to the man behind me.

A flying fizz and a raucous pop, followed by a sick and shuttering sizzle. The single red light dripped back down to the earth like a drop of sweat gliding off a scalp. Birds nearby flew away and squawked with indignance, and my heart stopped at the sound of a wretched, screeching blare; the call of a wyvern drake. Only heaven knew how grateful I was for the diurnality of the flying drakes. We had only to hunt their serpentine cousins tonight.

In reply, the forest directly north from our position lit up. Thousands of the red flares flashed into the sky and burst into a cascade of explosions, an orchestra of drums.

The twilight sky staged a chaotic ballet, fairies of flame sputtering and flashing in the contrast of the smoke they coughed. The forest was silent but for the wind rattling in the leaves.

And then, as the first fairy light touched the top of the trees, a great flood of sound and darkness erupted across the forest. A million wyrm serpents materialized and crashed toward the falling lights, the terrible sound and motion of a hurricane.

Flash. Bang!

For a single moment, I caught the image of a dozen of the serpents in the air, some of them torn to pieces by the blast, and it was dark again, followed immediately by hammering thunder.

Danjun whistled. "These wyrms fly better in death than they ever did in life!" A few men chuckled nervously.

Flash. Bang! Flash. Bang!

Another eruption of light and flailing mass, followed by a thunderous report. It went on, dozens of times.

Flash. Bang! Flash. Bang! Flash. Bang!

With every explosion, the light of spreading fire grew stronger. Soon enough, a single golden flare flew into the sky and popped.

"Ready yourselves!" I could feel the tension in the ranks of men behind me grow, due either to the sound of my voice or the sight of the gold shimmer in the increasingly smoky sky.

Another volley of red flares spat up, this time a little closer to our position.

Flash. Bang!

The wyrms flew.

More spouting flares, fire at its brightest yet, wyrms erupting into the sky, thunder fulminating in my very bones. And then, between the bursts, I could make out the shouting of men and the stampeding of horses.

And finally, most horribly, the terrifying hissing of a thousand hateful, bloodthirsty, winged wyrms, every serpent the size of an elephant and ravenous for the savor of flesh.

Danjun hissed a supplication that I could not quite hear, but knew by heart: "Mystery of the Moon, Wisdom of the Sun, Heaven protect me."

"Ready!" I shouted.

The fire was so close, I felt its warmth on my face, and the faces of the men behind me were illuminated by its approach.

A hundred men on horseback broke from the trees before us. The riders' eyes were white and wild, all of them focused singularly on getting to safety behind the ranks of men before them. Sitting behind every rider, a monk garbed in yellow threw fire from one fist and controlled it with great fans in their other arm, pushing and folding the flames outward and upward, scorching any serpent that challenged the path of fire.

And the serpentine contenders challenged with vigorous disregard for their own lives. Their size was obscene, and they shot through the flames like lightning, many falling to the ground in coughing and hissing masses of coil, some striking true, swallowing men and horse whole before crumpling and flailing amidst the fires that would suffocate and burn them.

When the last rider came through the brimming hell, the monk at his back fired a musket at the black and choked sky, rocketing off a single golden flare.

"Fire!" The sound of my voice was immediately swallowed by the pandemonium of three ranks of cannon fire. Light and fire and smoke and ash and blood, a hundred miles wide and a hundred miles tall, and I was at its center.

A wall of deadly mass fell down upon us, a volley of ferocious sunlight, mass after mass, volley for volley, eternally, deafening roar and deafening silence, deafening roar and deafening silence.

Closer and closer, they fell endlessly, and the volleys became unsteady and disorganized, and true chaos sneered in the smoke, poundings and hammerings and fierce battle cries clashing randomly with raining death, until sound shattered completely.

A single serpent crashed down amidst the ranks of men. Sound returned dimly, as if from far away, and ferocity turned to terror, shouting transformed to screams. Fire erupted within the lines, monks rushing in to scorch away the break in the ranks.

Another serpent crashed. And another, and soon another, and soon they were all pummeling and barreling into the lines of men, and the ranks were broken. Men gathered in groups around the monks, brandishing spears and spitting fire from muskets, while the monks did everything they could to brandish and fashion the flames into walls against the writhing wyrms.

A wyrm cratered directly for me. I jumped out of the way, and it swallowed the man loading the cannon beside me and careened away. Another pair of wyrms followed it. I hopped onto the cannon and pulled its hammer. One wyrm ate fire and metal before vanishing back into the smoke, but the other simply continued to spin gracelessly down in my direction.

"Phong!" A mass from behind tackled me from the cannon, and I fell to the ground with a thud. When I sat back up, the cannon was gone, and the wyrm lay dead where I had stood.

"Come, Phong! We must ride away!" It was Danjun, towering over me, bald head glistening in the light of fire, earlobes waggling as he pulled me to my feet and away toward the edge of the burning forest.

I shook my head and coughed, then tried fruitlessly to pull away from him. "No! The men! The Valley!"

Danjun forged ahead, his head darting back and forth as he searched for a way out of the chaos. "The men are dead where they stand! The Valley is lost!"

My mind slowed. We had failed. The dragons would devour us and the fire would engulf them, and the valley would remain lost. I watched as the serpents coiled and encircled the desperate pockets of what men remained. They fought with the desperate ferocity of men who were no longer concerned with gain or loss, but entirely consumed by the struggle of life and death.

And Danjun was right. They had already lost. They were dying and dead. And I would die too.

"Come on!" Danjun shouted fiercely and yanked me forward. I looked at him. He was still struggling. I looked down at the arm that dragged me. My mind sped up, and my feet took their first solid step.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to the dying men behind me. Arm in arm, Danjun and I fled.

Bumping and dodging falling corpses and burning trees, we ran. "There!" Danjun pointed, and I saw an abandoned horse pulling desperately on the lead that tethered it to a tree. I hopped onto its back and took command of the frightened beast as Danjun drew his hooked sword and cut the rope. I pulled Danjun up and behind me, and spurred the horse forward.

We made it only a few yards before a wyrm collapsed in front of us. The horse tried to jump out of the way, throwing Danjun off its back, but carrying me away with it to the side.

I scrambled away from the dazed and rolling horse. I scrambled to my feet and frantically searched for Danjun.

He stood before the coiled wyrm, holding both his hooked sword and fan staff above his head, trying to seem taller than he was. The wyrm stared unblinkingly at the eye print design on the fan, continually shifting and folding its body and testing its wings, preparing to strike.

Danjun slowly lowered his sword arm to his waist. The wyrm's head twitched.

I readied my musket and aimed at its head. When it moved, I'd fire.

Danjun carefully reached into a deep pouch sitting on his hip next to his wheel of life symbol. As he started to pull his hand back out, the wyrm lunged and I fired.

My shot hit the serpent in the neck, and it garbled a terrible hiss. Danjun lunged out of the way, throwing powder from his sword hand as he did, and the wyrm flew over him blindly. Danjun rolled away and hopped up to his knees. He scraped his hooked sword against the staff of his fan and sparks flew, catching on the trail of powder flowing in the air, flaring into fire.

In one motion, he stood, fanned the flame up into a towering blaze, and sent it careening into the wyrm as it gathered itself. The serpent writhed and its hiss sounded more like a scream.

I abandoned my musket and brandished my spear, charging to Danjun's side.

His blade flashed in my direction, ready to cut me down in an instant. With dawning recognition, his posture eased, but his expression betrayed surprise. Perhaps he had thought I had fled or was knocked unconscious.

The flaming serpent lunged again, blindly flailing in its pain. I shouted and thrust my spear into its head. It rolled over us, and the wind was knocked from my lungs.

When I came to, I was pinned on my side, the folds of the serpent wrapped around me. I couldn't breath, and gasped for air. I couldn't feel my legs, and pain pierced my chest with every gasp.

I looked around for Danjun. I followed the length of the wyrm, past it's motionless wings, and stopped at its lifeless head. Its snout was down in the ground, and from out of its gaping maw spilled the unmoving limbs of Danjun, blood trickling and pooling around the horror.

"Ugh... no..." I gasped. I tried to break free, but my body's only response was pain. "Agh!" I screamed. I looked to Danjun again, and tears welled up in my eyes.

I began to sob, and my strength completely abandoned me. Darkness closed in around the corners of my eyes. My struggling arms fell limp.

My dying breath...

"Dan... Jun..."

The night was complete.

...

I could hear tinkling bells and hearty drums. I opened my eyes to a blue sky and lazy, cotton clouds. The trees were soft and green and shady. I sat up. No pain. My clothes were clean and untorn.

I stood up. I was in the forest still, but there was no fire, no blood, and no bodies.

And where was that music coming from? The bells and drums grew closer, and a couple of suona trumpets also began to play.

A band of strange fairies and frightening elves marched into the clearing from the direction of a battlefield that no longer existed, surrounding me, playing their charming music and chanting nonsensically.

I felt a tickle on my chin, run up my cheek and climb away from my brow. A bug? It was wet. Another tickle, and another, drizzling up my face and arms. Looking down, I saw droplets of water collecting at the tips of grass and leaves like dew, before dripping up and into the sky. My eyes widened at the madness of it, and I gasped as it grew stronger, torrents flowing into the sky, collecting into a darkening cloud. True thunder joined the drums. The bells tinkled restlessly, and the suonas bleated relentlessly.

I was afraid that madness had taken me.

Then the bells stopped, the suonas ceased, and the drums bonged a final time. Thunder crashed, and in a flash of lightning, before my face appeared the terrifying and mischievous demon's eyes of a true Dragon. Its snarling grin with its collection of pointed teeth, its branching stag's antlers pointing out of its lion's mane, followed by its endlessly sailing, multi-colored, scaled body that reached miles up into the sky and vanished into the gathered rain cloud.

I stared, wide eyed and stupid.

It blinked once, opened its jaw and howled deep and guttural. In an instant, the whole vision collapsed in on itself, like the reverse of a ripple in a pond. The greenery and blue sky, the band of fairies and elves, the rain, and finally the Dragon, rising back up into its cloud, vanished.

I was back in the smoldering hellscape. It was morning, and somewhat calm.

The wyrm lay dead before me, and I stood, alive and healthy and seemingly untouched.

I turned to look for Danjun. The maw was empty, nothing but a drying pool of blood to indicate that he had died there.

A branch snapped behind me, and I spun around. A marvel second only to the Dragon I had seen seconds before, a strange and chimerical creature watched me curiously. It tilted its head, its single horn hung precariously from the side of its mane. It was panting from its doglike snout in a friendly manner, and its whip-like tail slapped its sides. It tested the dirt with its hoof, then sniffed and wandered away into the blackened forest, vanishing from sight.

Lying on the ground where the creature had stood was a bundle of yellow cloth wrapped around a fan staff and a sheathed hook sword.

I approached the bundle and fell to my knees. Sitting atop the bundle of equipment fit for a warrior sage was the very same wheel of life that my Danjun carried on his hip for most of our lives.

I picked it up and held it to my chest and sobbed. I kissed it and wetted it with my tears and I mourned.

And when I was done mourning in that black and smoking cauldron, a horrible and hungry fire spat to life in my belly.

I would take.

I would take from those that had sent me on this mission of death.

I would take from the wyrms that had slain him.

And I would take from the gods that had abandoned him when he needed them.

I retrieved my spear and my musket and put them on my back. Then I carefully unwrapped the yellow cloth, revealing it to be Danjun's own robes. I packed them away, put his powder pouch and hook sword on my hip, and brandished his fan staff. Lastly, I fastened his wheel of life around my neck and hid it under my shirt.

"No more dragons or men or heaven in or from this valley. Only death. I vow it."

_________________

Author’s note: the strange and chimerical creature is supposed to be a Ky Lan from Vietnamese culture, or a Qilin from Chinese culture. It often symbolizes the coming or passing of an illustrious ruler or sage, as well as appearing simply as a symbol to mark an important event.

I do not speak Mandarin Chinese or Vietnamese, nor was I raised in either culture. With that in mind, I tried my best to create names with genuine meanings that complimented the story. It would not surprise me one bit to learn that these names were jumbled, awkward, or simply utter nonsense to native speakers. If that is the case, I apologize.

The names and their intended meanings are:

Xiao Dan-Jun

(calmly) (dawn)-(talent)

Hang Dieu Phong

(moon) (mysterious) (wind)