Born with the Dragon Sense

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There weren’t always so few people either.

Restraining from the violent shaking of the cart, the two men tasted the smoke before seeing it. Now clearing the trees, the blackness was wafting towards them, in thick angry clouds. Jed swallowed hard, but it brought no relief. Death leached to the walls of his throat.

“Is this it?” Samuel looked up at him, eyes in disbelief.

It was the first time Samuel had spoken for a while which was unusual for him. But these were unusual times. He could not blame his friend for the silence. In fact, usually he would be grateful for it but right now, he would have given anything to fill the space.

“Aye, what’s left of it.” Jed said.

“Was there much afore?”

Jed clutched with white knuckles, reins in one hand, and in his other, he traced the embossed “A” signet on a thick piece of parchment. He hardly felt Samuel take hold of the reigns from his hands. He was lost in the memory of songs and laughter that use to ring from here, right through the valley to the other side, during Summer Fest. The feast, the dancing, and the large bonfire –.

He shook his head. He could not think of flames right now. He had to remain focused on Arya’s letter. Light be blessed, he would find her here and end his journey for good. They could finish with all this nonsense. He would not even scold her for her grand delusions. His chest tightened. They were moving too slow.

“Get on with it.” Jed said hitting the front of the cart, “She may still be here.”

“If not here, we will find her at the next settlement.”

Samuel snaped at the reins to urge the frightened horses. But they staggered and cried, and the whites of their eyes peeled to the sky as they turned back their heads. He elbowed Jed as he tried to get them back under control. Jed felt heat soaring through his chest down into his arms.

“What’s the matter with them?”

“It’s the arch, Jed.” Samuel nodded to the half fallen welcome arch a few paces ahead. The sign, ‘Welcome to Emerald Vale’ was now laying in the mud. The timber was deeply charred and crackling on the side where it had collapsed. “They dunt like the sound.”

As he spoke, Samuel snapped the reins again and the horses pushed on. Both men lurched forward before finding their rhythm and Samuel whispered a few soothing ‘atta girls’ and ‘come on beauties’ to them.

Jed knew it was only for the horses but took relief from the words, nonetheless. Maybe it was just the sound of the wood that had frightened them. But the pit of his stomach and the pimples dancing across his neck told him otherwise. Horses are sensitive creatures. Even more so than he. If he was beginning to sense the unseen, then they probably were feeling it ten-fold. But he was not about to tell Samuel that.

He had hardly finished the thought when they began emerging through the wave of smog and the cart suddenly halted.

Samuel sucked the air through his teeth. “Blessed light…”

Jed only shuddered. If this was what ‘remaining’ looked like, he didn’t want to uncover what else was out there. There was no emerald left in Emerald Vale, only cruel jest.

Charred timber lay limp on barren earth where homes used to be. The once rich colours of bluebells and buttercups, now carpeted in black and white of scorched trails and lifeless ash. In small spots, tuffs of green grass huddled together, shocked at the horror they had narrowly escaped. Everywhere else, ghosts lingered. The pimples on his neck danced quicker. There was no denying the sense now.

Reflexively, Jed moved to pull down his dark woollen hood, but as the letter in his palm began to crumple further, he stopped. Little Arya’s golden framed face came to mind. He could only imagine what his parents would say if they could see them both now. It would not do. He had to find her.

No matter the cost, he reminded himself, and from his pouch he took a smear of mint balm with his thumb and inhaled it deeply. Instantly, the sting pierced between his eyes. He smeared only the tip of his thumb and wiped the rest back into the wax-lined pouch. Not enough to fully mask the sense but just enough to limit it from overtaking him. With letter still in hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose. No matter the cost.

He could feel Samuel’s eyes on him.

“I know what I’m doing” he said, closing the pouch back into the folds of his belt.

“I didn’t say anytin”.

Jed turned away from his friend and swept over the remaining. The cart had slowed to a respectful pace.

It was not unusual to see poverty. Every village had its share of dirty and gaunt faces, staring pleadingly at passers-by. But this was not poverty. This was something else. There was no pleading here. No acknowledgment of other life. Survivors drifted vacantly like ash on the breeze. Glazed eyes looked at him, and looked right through him, simultaneously. He searched for someone to speak with but everywhere he was met with hollowness.

There was another option, but not one he was likely to reveal in front of Samuel. He could ask one of the unseen, or the ghosts, still taking in the happenings of their death. He might not see them now with the mint balm, but it did not stop him from feeling them. Unlike the hollow survivors, emotion streamed through their every pore. The hairs up his spine prickled. He sensed their motion – not just in that direction – but from all around. Even from beneath the cart. He considered taking just one more smear of balm.

“But if I was to say somethin’,” said Samuel, “I’d say –”

Jed swiped the air to quieten him and motioned the cart to stop.

“You there!” he called to an old man with a feint glint of life still left in his face. The man lifted his head softly and sure enough, there it was. The man still had something left in him.

The old man reached for the cart and leaned on the rim, to steady his bones. Grey ash smudged his dark brown sleeping clothes, and streaked patterns across his wrinkled skin. The only colour on him belonged to bright blue eyes that peeped out from a wild and unkept grey beard.

“How many days?” said Jed

“four… five days…”

“Four, five days ago?”

The old man shook his head, “Since it start’d. We only started emerging at sunrise”

Jed looked up to the sky. The sun was a giant ball of red now, just over halfway through its cycle. His heart sank a little. Would they even make it to the next settlement in time? Samuel eyed him as he leaned over and past the old man a torn piece of his shirt. The old man nodded to him, his blue eyes shining a moment in gratitude. He then shut them tight as he coughed deeply. Jed waited for him to stop.

“Were there no bells?”

“Where’ve you been?” the old man furrowed his brows and looked at Jed as a man who was nothing more than a time waster, “There aint no bells… Not since the towers burned last Spring”

Jed crunched the letter in hand until his arm ached. He could hear Samuel sucking in the air once more. Where had he been? He had been right where he was supposed to be. Where Ayra should have been. The heat had found a pathway from his arms to his neck now and he couldn’t control it. He wanted to scratch out the inside of his eyes. He could feel the truth gnawing at him. He should have been here. He reached out and grabbed the shirt from the man’s bony shoulder.

“Last Spring?!” said Jed shaking the man “What news from the other villages?”

The old man tugged back from Jed’s grip. “Give off! I’ve not heard anything, I swear, now let go!” Jed wasn’t losing grip. He pulled closer. Somewhere beside him he heard Samuel whisper to let go. In the distance Jed could sense many eyes on him but whether they were living eyes he was not sure.

“Damnit man, did no one come? Where are the Soul Protectors?”

“Aye, some came,” the old man looked down where his feet where staring to lift off the ground a little from Jed’s pull, “This Ash. It’s what’s left of ‘em. None more came. Are you listening man?”, the old man’s voice strained, “None cares about the valley no more.”

Jed breathed deeply and let the man go. He tried to understand the wave of emotions that was taking over him. It wasn’t surprise. He had met children with more sense than the soul protectors. But there was something rising from deep inside him to say I told you so.

Once free of Jed’s grip, the old man had started to walk away. Jed took in the back of his knobbly knees and called once more. He needed to know when the dragons had stopped and so he pleaded with the man to respond.

“Stop?...” He turned to look at the jagged black teeth rising out of the ground where a home use to be. A wave of emptiness passed over the old man’s face. “It never stopped.”

“When did they leave?” But the man stood staring out at the black teeth. Jed could feel the man wavering in and out of connection.

“The dragons, sir. When did they leave?” said Jed

“They? There was only one dra¬ –” The old mans blue eyes welled with tears. Ash drifted softly from his shoulders as he shuddered silently and he sunk softly to the bed of ash and like the others, his face became hollow.

Jed looked out at the black veil before him and recalled his grandfather’s warning, that if ever the valley was lost, all would be lost. Even past where the village use to be, blackness plagued the land as far as the eye could see.

This was one dragon. Rumours spoke of as many as seven. It was hard to imagine that even three settlements could still exist.