Cosmovas Saga - The Dragon Witch

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. So Mavia has always told me. In fact, there shouldn’t be dragons anywhere, not these wingless demons, so says Vallus’ holy paladins. The only true dragons are winged and hard, their skin thick as the Empire’s faith, so says the citizens of Armonra.

I don’t hold much to the words of others. Righteousness can taint even the kindest of hearts. Blind faith can warp the brightest eyed. So, despite all the world would tell you, here’s my truth.

I am a witch, one of the lost ones. Bound to the Valley of No Name, one of the last places out of the Empire’s reach. Legend tells they tried to claim our village, before the Grove had sprouted and the dragons bore wings. But something about our land, our mountain, had frozen their hatred. It is said they turned, shed their weapons, and run until the mountain was no longer in sight. At the edge of our land, moss covered mounds claim to contain their waste, a deterrent to those who stray too far from wiser paths.

At the base of the mountain is my village, ringed by our Grove. The trees buzz with power, their fruit enough to feed us ten times over. They teach us and we, in turn, protect them.

Mavia says the Grove is a vestige of the times before. Before the Empire. That our care and practice will show a way, but she never alludes to how such a change will come.

“It is not for us to know.” She repeats. “Your youth is not an excuse for impatience.”

But… things change.

It was not long after the winter’s chill began to soften that I found them. Frost clung to the world, from the tallest tree to the smallest blade of grass. Even as I exhaled and pulled my shawl closer, the frost crystalized my breath. Mornings weren’t my favourite, but something was different about that day, something pulled me from the warmth of my bed to the centre of the Grove.

Silence haunted the Valley. No wind, no animals, no people. Even the whisper of the mountain was absent, making my stomach flip over and over. Never was the mountain quiet, never in all my days and nights in this world.

But I was drawn, even though my hands shook and my teeth chattered. Drawn to the mountain’s feet. Like sparks down my spine, there was a new energy here. Unknown but enticing. I needed to find it, and it me.

Finally Mother came into view. Mother, the largest of all the trees in the Grove. Warped and magnificent, Mother was woven into the mountain itself, her roots twisted round rocks and boulders. I’d always imagined her roots wound deep, below the mountain and into the underworld, a hint of life in the never-ending darkness below my feet.

Sweetness pulled my focus, the scent of warmth and light. It hung in their air here, in Mother’s branches. Spring and summer and all the promise of the new was somehow a scent, radiating through the cold.

Before I caught myself I was reaching out, my palms pressed to Mother’s bark. It was soft, worth smooth as wood taken by the river.

Inhale, exhale.

Something reached out and nuzzled my skin. I jumped back as it wrapped around my wrist, the silky scales and light fur so soft. It stared back at me, golden eyes set into an adorable face, eyes too deep to become lost in.

“Dragon…” I whispered.

I hadn’t realised the sun had risen, hadn’t felt its power signalling the new day. The only two things in existence were me, and this tiny dragon.

I blinked. It was floating, hovering equal to my head, the snake like body not even the length of my forearm. With no wings.

I twisted my head, trying to see better “How can you fly?”.

It rolled onto its side, mirroring my gesture.

If I’d known what was to come, seen the blood and pain yet to be shed, I might have done differently. If I’d known how the rumours would spread back to the Empire, known of the paladins and the plague. Of the centuries of war and lies and death. Of how all Cosmovas would shake. Of Lori and Marus and Alesky. Of the underworld and the gods and enough power to unmake everything. But I didn’t.

Instead, I danced. Danced with the wingless dragon under Mother’s branches. Danced with the magic turning the air sweet, unable to feel the cold. And I laughed.

Mavia said there weren’t always dragons in the Valley. But there were now. And they would change everything.

My name is Keina. And I’m the Dragon Witch.