Dragons Among Us

There weren't always dragons in the valley. It used to be a quiet little grove, with a quiet little village in the center. Life was filled with hardworking days and uneventful nights filled with the songs of crickets in the trees. Until, that is, the wizards started to come out of the big cities to avoid the plague that was spreading like wild fire. We opened the doors to our taverns, inns, and homes. They were guests and were welcomed as such.

"It's so tranquil here!" They all said. "Such an easy, slow pace of life. We could get used to this." We laughed them off and waited with them for the plague to die down. It would end soon enough, and us valley dwellers knew the wizards would not want to be away from their homes for long. They were not made for the wilderness of the valley. They would never want to stay in our little village. How naïve we were then.

At first, it was nice. Every one would go to the taverns to hear their tales of city life and to the markets to pick up their "exotic" wares, homebrewed potions, and enchanting talismans. At first, it was fine. We did not complain when they helped us repair our homes with their summoned imps or showed us new inventions to take care of our crops. We hung on their every word and took all of their advices. We were simple folk, after all. Stuck in our ways and traditions with only one story to tell.

All of the people in the valley knew the old tale. As children, the village crones would gather us a round at their knee and tell us of the old ruins to the north of our valley. They spoke of a massive city with towers and spires that reached for the heavens. Buildings and walls adorned with jewels and gold. It was the city of the Mages, the ancestors of the wizards. The Mages enjoyed the finer things of life. Each lived like royalty, despite their subjects continued poverty. Until one day, a dragon noticed the glittering city beneath him. He decided that the city was to be his new domain. He took all he could from the Mages' palaces, demanded all pay tribute to him. All who could not pay tribute left the great city or were eaten for impertinence. The Mages built new cities both near and far. The lower ranked, however, came to this quaint little valley to start anew.

Three full moons passed from the time the wizards began showing up in our valley. Still the plague showed no signs of letting up in the cities, according to them, and our guests persisted as well. The wizards grew tired of living in our inns and began constructing homes of their own. They stopped helping us with the farming and other tasks around the village. Even though it seemed more people poured in by the day, we were overburdened with work and chores that were previously shared by the whole community.

By mid-summer my fellow residents of the valley had enough. The wizards new homes were towering monstrosities made of brick and mortar, with glass mosaic windows with strange symbols carved on any surface. Their summoned imps became more of a nuisance as they killed our small live stock and destroyed our small gardens. They began telling us that our modest homes, foundations laid with memories, were making their mansions appear less stately. They imposed a new order on our valley. We were now to pay taxes to them. We began to look at our fellow valley dwellers with a knowing eye, just waiting for someone to take up the quest.

There were not always dragons in the valley, until I left to find one.