Beyond the Mountains

Regoral

I thought humans were a myth. In my youth, I had believed the frightening stories my mother told me of murdering men who invaded our land, bringing death and destruction in their wake, but, when I came of age, I quickly gave up believing such stories. Surely, the human race was nothing more than a legend invented by mothers to frighten their young ones into obedience. That was what I thought, until the day I found Torin.

I am Regoral, a dragon of the Velasan Mountains, just beyond the Forest of Durn. You need not search for these mountains, for they are not visible to all. They appear only to those who possess the secrets of dragons. I am a member of the oldest dragon thunder in Velasan. We have dwelt in these mountains since the beginning of time, and we are the true rulers of this land. A few other thunders dwell amongst the crags and foothills, but we, who dwell on the mountain peaks, reign over them all.

It was a warm day in autumn when I descended from the mist-covered mountains to seek food in the forest. Being a strong and skillful hunter, I was often sent to perform this task. I circled the forest several times, searching for a landing place, before settling in a large clearing. Slowly, I made my way through the widely spaced trees, stealthy and sure-footed despite my massive size. This is the most important lesson for a young dragon when he learns to hunt. He must always be silent, lest he betray his presence to his prey.

It was perhaps due to my stealth that I heard him at all. As I crouched in the shadow of a large tree, poised to pounce on a grazing deer, I heard a small sound. The deer heard it, as well, and vanished into the trees. Frustrated but curious, I turned toward the bushes, and the sound came again. I realized now it was a tiny laugh. Cautiously, staying low to the ground, I followed it.

At last, I emerged into a little clearing. There, seated on the ground, was a charming little creature. I first thought he was a young fairy who had wandered too far from his mother, but I soon realized this was impossible. His skin was not milky white, like that of this wood’s fairies, but dark, as was his hair, and no wings protruded from his back. At the moment, he was attempting to catch a yellow butterfly, giggling each time he failed.

I looked closer. It couldn’t be true. Such stories simply weren’t true! Yet, here was proof right before me. Try as I might, I could not rationalize it. I knew every race of elf, fairy, dwarf, and gnome in this forest, and none of them looked like him. He was undoubtedly not a magical being, for I sensed no magic in him. It was unbelievable, but it was true. The creature before me was a human child.

It was absurd, but I was frightened to death of this tiny boy. I couldn’t help it. The stories my mother had told me, illustrated by images she conjured in smoke, flashed through my mind. Death and destruction always followed men, yet here sat one of their young, as harmless as the butterfly he was so vainly trying to capture. Slowly, silently, I moved into the clearing. He had his back to me, absorbed with the insect flitting about him, so he did not see me as I approached.

One stroke of my sharp claws could have killed him, but I couldn’t do it. He was too sweet, and I hadn’t the heart to kill so ruthlessly. Dragons kill only for food and defense, as a matter of honor, and he posed no immediate threat. Instead, I leaned toward him and softly puffed a hot breath onto his neck. He turned to face me, and I was suddenly looking into two large, wondering brown eyes. He stayed like this for a long moment, blinking slowly and studying me. I expected him to scream, to cry, to try to run away… but he didn’t move. Then, softly, he let out a sigh of… what? Wonderment, excitement? Who can say? It was certainly not fear. Something like joy was shining in those wide brown eyes. Slowly, softly, he reached out his tiny hands to touch my snout. I could barely feel them through my hard, armor-like skin, but they were there, soft as a feather. Then, hardly believing what I was doing, I felt myself nuzzle into his grasp. He gave another soft laugh and leaned his little face against me, and that was how it began….

~

Mist covered the mountains, but then it always did. In the forest, the ancient trees stood tall and proud, reaching long branches out to each other and blocking out the light, as they always had. In the wide gray sky, a long silhouette soared gracefully over it all. A dragon, fierce and beautiful, flew through the mist and dove low to circle the forest. On a tall rock overlooking the forest stood a small figure: a young man, dark-skinned and proud, wearing a tunic of vibrant dragon scales which shone green and purple even in the dim light. Across his back were a quiver of stone-tipped arrows and a strong wooden bow, both crafted by his own nimble hands. The dragon spied him there and swooped toward him. As it landed softly behind him, the young man turned.

“If you think that was a stealthy approach, you’re wrong,” he said haughtily, crossing his arms. “I knew you were coming from two miles away.”

“Oh, really?” the dragon huffed. “I suppose you could have done better, little one.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, dragon and man, eye-to-eye, then the young man’s face broke into a broad grin.

“I’m so happy you’re back, Reggie!” he exclaimed, running to the dragon and throwing his arms around him. “I’ve missed you so much!”

Regoral laughed softly. “I have missed you, too, Torin,” he said. “My little one.”

Torin pulled away. “I’m not so little,” he exclaimed. “Look!” He stepped back, planted his hands on his hips, and puffed out his chest.

“It is true,” Regoral said wistfully. “You have grown. You are a man now, but you’re still my little one.”

Torin gave him a playful glare. “Just because you’re fifty feet long, you don’t have to gloat. Am I not a good size for a man?”

“I could not say,” Regoral replied distantly. “I have never seen a man, but I heard about them from my mother.” He looked back at Torin teasingly. “She said they were all at least seven feet tall, and that you are not.”

Torin sat down on the rock and pulled an arrow out of his quiver. “I wish I were like you, Reggie,” he said, twiddling the arrow’s tip between his fingers. “To be strong but graceful. To soar and dive through the mist. It must be wonderful!”

Regoral watched fondly as the boy imagined being a dragon. “To be a dragon is a great responsibility,” Regoral said wisely, “one not to be taken lightly. That is something you cannot understand.”

Torin nodded, still fiddling with the arrow, then looked up. “Tell me what you discovered in the north, Reggie. Beyond the mountains!”

Regoral looked off into the distance. “I saw many things,” he said, “but they are not meant for your ears, little one.”

Torin crossed his arms again. “Why do you always say that? Can’t I know anything you do?”

Regoral smiled. “I’m very sorry, Torin. I would tell you if I could, but… you are not one of us, so there are some things you cannot know.”

Torin looked down, sulkily tracing a crack in the stone with his forefinger. “You make me feel like such an outcast,” he said. “I know nothing of the world from which I came, and I am not allowed to know about the one where I live. Do I really belong anywhere, Reggie?”

“You belong right where you are, Torin. With me, in the land of the dragons.”

Torin looked into the dragon’s deep golden eyes. “Yes, Reggie,” he said. Then, he dropped his head again, and they sat in silence for a long moment, each lost in his own thoughts.

However, it was not in Torin’s nature to be downcast for long, and, as suddenly as it had come, this cloud of gloom passed. He looked to the edge of the rock just beyond him, smiled, and turned to Regoral, who was watching him with a bemused expression. “May I?” Torin asked softly, excitement glowing in his dark eyes. Regoral nodded and, in a sudden burst of motion, Torin ran to the edge of the rock and dove off. For one long moment, he knew what it was to fly. Weightless and free, he plunged through open air toward the forest floor. Then, as swiftly as he had fallen, he was suddenly born aloft on the strong back of Regoral, who had dived to catch him. Together they flew high in the sky, then started out for the peaks of the misty mountains.

~

The fairies of Durn were beautiful creatures. Not six-inch sprites, they were stately beings as tall as humans, with glowing skin as pale as milk, hair golden as the sun’s rays, dazzling eyes the light blue of a morning sky, and shimmering wings adorned with iridescent swirls. At least, this is what the other forest creatures thought, for they never saw the fairies’ true appearance, visible only when they gathered by night in their vast underground network. There, the pale skin glowed eerily white in the darkness, that silky hair shone black as midnight, the wings’ patterns looked like black spiderwebs, and the pale blue eyes gleamed coldly in the dark, showing malice. They were not the sweet creatures they appeared, but a calculating race which had sought to overthrow the dragons for years.

They knew that Regoral had this day returned from a trip to the north. Regoral knew the fairies’ game. His mother, the wisest dragoness of her time, had told him of the war that had once raged between the dragons and the fairies. The fairies had been beaten badly, but he knew they were ever waiting and watching for their opportunity to strike again. The fairies, while not as wise as dragons, had their own intuition and means of gaining information. They had learned that Regoral had traveled to the north to ask assistance of other dragon thunders. Regoral believed the fairies were poised to strike, and, as it turned out, he was right.

After night fell in the forest, the fairies gathered in their meeting place beneath the Great Maple. Marsan, the leader of the fairies, floated above his platform as his subjects gathered in the subterranean cavern. In the dim glow of magical lanterns, only the veins of their wings and their gleaming irises were clearly visible. They spoke in hushed murmurs, their voices lower and harsher than one would expect. When the eerie tinkling of a bell sounded from the front of the room, all fell silent. Their eyes turned to their leader.

“Fairies,” Marsan began. “The time of change is upon us. For many years, we have waited, recovering from the great war. Steadily, we have regained our previous numbers, improved our weapons, and planned carefully for the time when we would once again strike a claim for this land which should be ours. Now, at last, the time has come!” At these words, the room fairly resounded with the sensation of repressed excitement, yet no voice dared speak above a whisper. “As you know, the dragon Orgeron has ruled for the last century. He saw the dragons through the storm, the famine, and the great war. Now, at last, he is relinquishing his rule to someone else. Do you know, my friends, who that could be?”

The fairies looked at each other knowingly. Many exchanged unpleasant grins, but none spoke. “That is right, my friends,” Marsan said. “Regoral. A younger dragon, true, but the wisest and strongest of our time. This last month he has been on a journey to the north, to seek support from other dragon thunders, I hear. Alas, I fear he has anticipated our imminent attack, but no matter. We shall fool him nonetheless. For we will not strike with a full army and proclaim war as foolish fairies of the past did. We shall use stealth and cunning. We shall beat them at their own game. We will strike right at the moment when their power is weakest: when Orgeron passes the power of the dragon ruler to his successor. In that brief moment, every dragon in Velasan will be entirely without magic.”

At this, the assembled fairies could not help but gasp. Marsan smiled, pleased by their reaction. It always amused him to know things others didn’t. “I hope you realize what valuable information this is and how difficult it was to ascertain,” Marsan continued. “The dragons do not know that we possess this knowledge, and this is our greatest weapon. However, there is still one detail missing in our scheme. In order to snatch that power away right before their eyes, we must learn where this ceremony takes place. It is vital that we find out soon, for it will happen tomorrow at sunset.” The room erupted into alarmed murmuring, but Marsan held up his hands calmingly. “Not to fear, my friends. I have a plan to ascertain the needed information and, at the same time, get a little extra… insurance, shall we say.” Here, he paused, either to let his words sink in or simply for the effect. “I’m sure you all know without my telling you what Regoral’s greatest weakness is.”

He looked around the room and saw that, while some fairies nodded, others looked puzzled. “No?” he queried, once again delighted by their confusion. “I believe you are all aware that, for the past sixteen years, the dragons have harbored a stranger to this land: a human child, who has just recently come of age. Yes, the little stranger is now a man. Perhaps you think an unknown such as this might be a threat to us, but you are wrong. A creature holding all the secrets of dragons and their magic yet possessing no magic of his own? What could be better for us? It is even to our advantage that he has recently reached maturity, for in this lies a new vulnerability. I’m sure you all know to what I refer, and I think I know just how best to make use of it.” With a subtle smirk, he turned toward a far corner of the room and called, “My dear, won’t you join us?”

From the shadows emerged Stelana, perhaps the most dangerous of all Durn fairies. She was very petite for her race, standing just above five feet, with skin pale as moonbeams and large, beguiling blue eyes which were startlingly light even for a fairy. In the cavern’s darkness, her hair shone black and glossy as it fell in soft waves just past her shoulders, but, in the light of day, it would gleam a gold that shamed the sun. Stelana possessed wiles and secrets of seduction that would make any siren turn green as her own kelpy hair with envy. No male was safe from her charms. Very few knew the sound of her voice, for she seldom spoke, relying instead on her physical talents to draw unsuspecting males to her. Her secret lay not in an enchanting song, as with mermaids, but in the grace of her dancing. Light as a feather, she twirled and leapt over the forest floor, the tips of her toes never quite touching the ground. She used her charms mostly for her own amusement, for she was by nature a dismal creature, bored by most aspects of life. However, on occasion, she was called upon to lend her particular talents to some task for the greater good of the fairies. Here was just such a case.

Moving with the easy grace of one whose feet never touch the ground, Stelana glided across the room and hovered beside Marsan. “I don’t think I need explain further,” Marsan said, smirking at Stelana. There was a bit of nervous laughter from the assembled fairies. Most of the males had gotten at least a sample of Stelana’s bewitching ways at some point and were not amused.

Marsan held up his hands once more, hushing the room. “With the weapons and talents at our disposal, I have no doubt that we will win this time. Once and for all, the fairies of Durn will rule Velasan!”

The fairies burst into applause and cheering. Amidst the noise, Marsan turned to Stelana, who was indifferent to the excitement around her. Leaning close to her so she could just hear his words above the din, he softly said, “Bring me the boy.”

~

Torin was annoyed, which was unusual for the good-natured boy. After their happy reunion the previous morning, Regoral had deposited him at the mouth of his cave and vanished for the rest of the day. Now it was fast approaching noon, and Torin had still yet to see his dragon friend.

Earlier that day, he had convinced an unwilling young dragon to take him down to the forest. He wasn’t supposed to leave the mountain without permission, but he was too upset to care. He was now wandering through the trees, feeling sorry for himself and wishing he had some company, when he heard a distant tinkling music.

He followed the music, wary but curious, and it led him to a nearby clearing. He stopped in his tracks, entranced. A lithe maiden with flowing golden locks, milky skin, and dazzling wings was twirling lightly over the forest floor. The very tips of her toes hovered teasingly close to the ground but never quite touched it. With every movement, she summoned bell-like strains out of nowhere. Somewhere far in the back of his mind, he recalled vague references Regoral had made to the fairies of this wood. He seldom spoke of them, but, when he did, he said they were not to be trusted. Not to be trusted? This angelic creature? It was absurd! Soon, he could no longer hear Regoral’s warnings. In a few moments, he forgot Regoral altogether. Nothing existed but her. So beautiful, so perfect…. He felt himself moving toward her, like one in a trance. His arms reached out toward her longingly. In one breathless moment, his arms closed around her slender waist, she turned, her flashing blue eyes looked deep into his, and the world went black.

~

Only a few hours remained until Regoral would become ruler of the dragons. His mind should have been awhirl with worries, fears, and excitement for this great honor, but his thoughts dwelled only on Torin. He knew his friend would be angry at being ignored and excluded like this, but there was just no help for it. There were those who would seek to learn dragon secrets from the boy, vulnerable as he was without magic, so he was kept in the dark for his own safety. Nonetheless, Regoral longed to seek him out and ask him to be understanding. He tried to direct his thoughts to the important event before him, but he could not.

Suddenly, he felt a burning flash pass through him, like the blade of a sword. Something was wrong; he could feel it. No longer hesitating, he flew swiftly from his cave toward Torin’s. He must find out what was happening. Had the boy done something foolish in his anger? Regoral could only hope it was one of his false flashes of intuition concerning Torin, about whom he worried excessively. However, when he arrived at the mouth of his cave, his fears only increased. Torin’s young dragon friend Grisvald was perched on the rocky ledge, looking downcast and a bit guilty.

“Grisvald!” Regoral called, making him jump.

“Oh, oh, Regoral,” he said, as the older dragon landed beside him. “What brings you here?”

“Where is Torin?” Regoral asked.

“He, uh, he….” Grisvald avoided looking Regoral in the eye.

“Where is he?” Regoral asked, his tone slow and menacing.

Grisvald let out a sudden wail. “He told me you gave him permission! He said it was alright! He’s never lied to me before!”

“Grisvald!” Regoral cried firmly, silencing the young dragon. “Will you stop that blubbering and answer my question?!”

“I… I took him down to the forest,” Grisvald said in a rush, as if saying it quickly would make it better.

Regoral nodded. “Well, this is not necessarily a tragedy, but I must speak to Orgeron about it immediately. I will not blame you, Grisvald. I know Torin can be very persuasive, and it was wrong of him to lie to you.”

“Oh, thank you, Regoral, sir,” Grisvald babbled, but Regoral was already rising into the air.

He rushed into Orgeron’s cave uninvited. “Orgeron!” he exclaimed. “Torin is alone in the forest. He convinced some foolish young one to take him there. I had a very bad feeling a while ago. I’m certain something is wrong, and it could be dangerous for us all! We must postpone the ceremony, until he is found.”

Orgeron looked at Regoral coolly. “I’ve always said you are too attached to that boy, Regoral. You have bad feelings about him all the time, and they most often mean nothing. We cannot postpone this most important of ceremonies due to your unnecessary concern. Nothing is more important than this passing of power, do you understand? Nothing.”

“But, Orgeron, what of the fairies? I never properly warned him of their dangers, at your command. You have insisted on keeping him in the dark so much that I fear he will be entirely helpless to defend himself.”

“Yes, I have insisted that he be kept in the dark for this very reason. If he were to fall into the hands of our enemies, he could tell them nothing. Therefore, the ceremony and our secrets will not be endangered.”

Regoral was taken aback. “You are willing to sacrifice him, so long as he cannot reveal our secrets?”

Orgeron glared at him. “As ruler of the dragons, I am concerned with the safety of our secrets. If you are to take over, you must feel the same. Now, kindly return to your preparations. I want to hear no more of this. After the ceremony is complete, you may spend as much time as you wish searching that cursed forest for your precious baby.”

Regoral was powerless to resist this dismissal and exited the cavern sadly. Bowing to his ruler as he left was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

~

Torin’s eyes fluttered open slowly. All around him there was darkness. He lay on hard stone. He pushed himself up and shook his head, trying to remember where he was. Recent scenes floated through his mind: Regoral returning from his journey, convincing Grisvald to take him to the forest…. Then, something else danced before his mind’s eye: a fairy, graceful and beautiful, dancing to tinkling music. He held her, their eyes met, then nothingness. What had happened?

Suddenly, there was light, and he saw that he was in a rocky cavern, surrounded by frightening creatures. Their skin was eerily white, their hair black, and their blue eyes glowed in the dark. They had glittering wings, translucent except for the weblike veins. Torin leapt to his feet, reaching for his weapons, but they were gone. “Who… who are you?” he asked. His own voice sounded strange, small and trembling.

“We are the fairies of Durn,” a deep voice intoned beside him. He whirled around to see a tall male fairy beside him. The imposing figure floated closer, but Torin did not retreat. “And you are Torin, the human ward of the dragons.”

“I am,” Torin said bravely.

“We know that, young one. That is why you’re here,” Marsan continued.

“Where?” Torin demanded. “Where am I? How did I get here? That girl….”

“Oh, yes,” Marsan said. “Stelana did her job well, bringing you to us.” As Torin watched, a beautiful figure appeared beside Marsan. Torin stared at her. She looked like the fairy from the forest, yet so different. She was pale and dark-haired now, frightening like her companions. When her eyes met his, they were harsh and cold. He shrank from their cutting gaze.

Stelana’s mind was reeling. She’d never felt something like this before. She was vaguely aware of Marsan’s speaking again, but his voice seemed far away and his words meaningless. There was nothing in the world but those deep brown eyes. All her life, Stelana had survived alone, detached and uninterested in her fellow creatures. Heartlessly, she had lured admirers into her trap, either for dismal pleasure or in service to her leader. Now, she felt something stirring in her. She’d thought she had no heart, but now she felt it aching for the youth before her. In those eyes, she saw a lost, frightened boy, almost a child, surrounded by enemies against whom he had no defense. Suddenly, she hated herself and her whole evil race. She wanted to flee this feeling, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Slowly, Marsan’s voice broke through again. “And you, boy, are going to tell us.”

Torin was in shock. This stranger had revealed dragon secrets which his dearest friend, Regoral, had never even mentioned. Why had they never told him these things? Regoral was to become ruler of the dragons this very night? Why hadn’t he been told? Haltingly, he tried to form words.

“Tell you what?” he stammered.

“Don’t feign ignorance with me, boy,” Marsan snapped. “Where the ceremony will take place! It is futile to resist. We will get it out of you one way or another. Why not make it easy for yourself?”

“I… I don’t know,” Torin said. “They don’t tell me anything. I am allowed to live among them; that is all. I know nothing of their secrets, and, even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you!”

Marsan’s gaze darkened. “So, that is how you wish to be? Very well.” He motioned to someone behind him and stepped aside. Five fairies surrounded Torin, who stood his ground bravely. Simultaneously, they lifted their arms, and a blinding light appeared between their hands. Then, in one movement, they thrust the light toward him. It blinded him. He could feel nothing but burning, punishing light. He closed his eyes against it, but to no avail. He fell to his knees, overwhelmed and powerless, and held his arms above his head, trying futilely to shield himself.

As Stelana watched, something inside her burnt as horribly as that torturous light. She could barely hear the boy’s soft cries of pain and pitiful murmurs, “No… no… please… no.” The light was so intense, even the other fairies were forced to turn away from it. Stelana had seen this torture used on many creatures, who had all been reduced to screams in mere seconds, but not him. He remained brave, his voice never rising above a whimper. She knew it was taking all his strength not to cry aloud. The burning inside her grew stronger. She could feel it rising into her chest, suffocating her. Suddenly, it burst from her mouth in a single scream of, “No!”

She was certain time froze. All movement in the room stopped, and a warm blue light burst from somewhere within her, drowning the torture light. She saw Torin raise his head slowly to look at her, and their eyes met. Slowly, he rose to his feet and walked toward her. Her heart burned inside her. Just once, she wanted to truly love someone. Instead, she softly said, “Through this passage behind me. Go straight all the way, until you reach the forest. Head toward the mountains and don’t look back.” He stepped closer, and suddenly his lips pressed hers, then he was gone.

In that moment, the spell broke, the light disappeared, and the fairies were thrown backward around the cavern. In the darkness, Stelana sank to the ground. She was laughing and sobbing. She was feeling for the first time in her life! Was this agony or bliss? Tiny lights danced before her eyes. She could feel the magic slipping out of her, and her life along with it. Then, it was all over.

~

Torin stood in the forest, his legs shaking and his lungs heaving. He had run all the way from the maple tree to the foot of the mountains, and he thought his heart would burst from beating so hard. Reality seemed strangely suspended. What had just happened? She had saved him. She had looked at him with true love in her eyes. Their lips had met. Was it real? He wondered if he had imagined the whole thing.

Suddenly, he felt something inexplicable, as if the entire earth shuddered. He looked up at the mountains and saw a bright light just fading away from the topmost peak. That was it: the passage of power had taken place. He collapsed on the ground, relieved and overwhelmed.

He heard the soft beating of wings above him and looked up as Regoral landed beside him.

“Reggie!” he cried, throwing his arms around the dragon. “There were fairies…. They told me about… the passage of power…. Then this awful light…. This girl… Stelana… she saved me… and….”

“Hush now,” Regoral soothed. “We are all safe at last. Come now, little one.”

Torin climbed onto his back, and they flew off to the mountains, dragon and man, together again.