Dragon Shadows

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. The days were too hot, the sun too bright. The nights were occupied by things larger even than dragons. Visits, yes, but none of them stayed here.

It wasn’t the case over the entire continent. There were other valleys with more accommodating weather, plains with pleasant vistas, mountains with cool snow and ice. This, though, was a valley kept apart and because of that it developed without the threat of dragon destruction.

Humans did not find the valley until recent times, maybe a couple of hundred years ago. They had traveled thousands of miles in a migration lasting thousands of years, fleeing war and then want and finally weather. The crossing had presented a choice between stormy seas and gargantuan glaciers. Naturally, as the clans happened upon more lush locations, they sent in spies to scope out the land. Many valleys had no water which meant no long-term plan for food. Other valleys were too narrow and supported a slim set of species insufficient for the clan to grow and prosper. The leaders took all this into account and in these cases they moved on.

Other valleys were lush, watered, broad enough to raise animals as well as hunt them. But it was in the hunting that the humans discovered the obstacles offered by the reptilian creatures with wings and talons. In the first occupied valley of this kind, one attack was enough to send the entire clan hustling back up to the plateau above. It was dry and deserted up there but that meant that no flying beasts would pursue them. The humans mourned their dead relatives. They gathered their resources and plodded onward, searching again.

Months later the clan came upon an opening in a cliff. They had been following the foot of the precipice for days, hoping to find a source for water. Then there it was: a hole, large enough for them to crawl through, one by one. Spies were sent on into the rock while the others waited. They knew it might be several days before their menfolk returned. This was a normal part of their lives. Tents were setup, water sought out, nuts, berries and mushrooms collected. All the skills of many generations were put to work.

The five men and one woman passed through the rock carefully. At first they had fire with them but the cavern was too vast to be properly lit and after the first few hours the torches were exhausted. It was not enough that they had to find a route through. They had to mark how to return, and they had to check the side passages to avoid surprises from threatening beasts. The six were experienced. Like the gatherers left behind, this was a normal part of their lives. There had been more of them – the explorers – but time had dwindled their numbers. They needed to prove that this time they would find a new home.

Hours and hours of probing and then the lead guide saw a glimmer of light. He paused to let the others come up from behind. They were never more than a few paces apart to avoid getting separated in the darkness. Together they discussed the light ahead. Would it provide an exit, or only a tempting glimpse?

It turned out to be neither exit nor glimpse. The crevice could be passed but the sunshine shone down not onto an exit but to a ledge a thousand feet above a valley. And what a valley! There was water, forest, fields. The six squeezed together and sat on the edge of the cliff. The height did not disturb them. Height they had managed before. This height, though, had no footholds, no handholds, no trail. And so they discussed what to do. Could they find or make a route down the cliff? Should they re-enter the cavern and search for a passage downward to a more useful ledge?

Far in the distance they could see the gleam of a glacier. From it emerged a plentiful river, feeding more than one lake and probably then running underground through these very cliffs until it emerged beyond. The six hoped that their families had found such a water source.

Directly ahead, in the center of their view yet completely inaccessible, was a tall rock spire. It was clear that it rose to the level of the surrounding plateau and fell all the way to the valley’s floor. Some ancient water flow had left it there, exposed to the wind and elements.

Meanwhile, their stomachs growled and they were all thirsty. If they could find their way to the floor then they could hunt and forage and cook and eat and drink. This, too, they discussed.

Then a shadow flickered across the side of the spire, cast there by the sun above and behind them. The slowly flapping wings were led by a long neck and thin head, and followed by a long, thin tail. It was no bird.

Their heads whipped around and eyes lookup up. They had been followed.