Here there be Dragons

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

We, the Underlings, those children born after the "Fall of Man" knew of the tales of the time before the dragons but they were whispered, shared in secret, dare not spoken of in harsh or angry words.

The dragons were our friends, our guardians, without them the sun would not rise, nor would it set, the waters from the highest mountains would not flow to grow our crops, the tasty berry trees would not grow, and we would surely die.

"Dare not speak ill of Dragons boy!" my grandfather, my mother's father and the chief of our tribe, scolded me as he caught me speaking to a group of my school mates.

We laughed at him.

"My father told me we use to kill the dragons, just for sport, hang their heads in our war halls as trophies!" Billy, the oldest and wisest of the group, boasted, thrusting out his chest, his hands crossed against it.

"Your father is the village idiot boy!" my grandfather gruffed and stormed off. "I have no time for school boy foolishness to deal with! Important work!"

Grandfather knew all, he had been the chief for many years, granted access to the Great Library databases when he was just a bit older than I was then, he knew of the Time Before, before the great beasts of dragons descended from the skies, to begin a new age, some say a great age, others, like Billy's father, said an age of enslavement of mankind, to wrenched beasts who knew nothing but their primal needs and rage.

My sister tended garden as I approached home. She waved, smiling, wiping the sweat from her brow.

"Ajay!" she said.

"Sara! How grows the weeds?"

We both laughed.

I knelt beside her, my hands grasping a hand shovel, digging into the dark black soil, a worm slipped from its blade.

"Tricky worm, go now and play! Make way! Make way!" We both gleefully sang, an old song our mother had taught us when we were very young.

I started to cry. "Mother isn't bad, like some in father's family says, is she sis?"

She sighed and shook her head.

"She is not, misdirected in her hatred of the dragons, yes but not bad! Grandfather says she is okay to him to have taken his son off his hands!"

We both laughed.

Mother was one of the haters of the dragons. Our father a great supporter. It divided the two.

We, the children, stayed quiet as children were suppose to do, tending to our daily chores after school, I once snuck a listen as mother and father argued when they thought we were asleep.

"You dare bring in food bought from those cursed dragons?" Mother had screamed one day. "I will not let it be served in MY house!"

"Your house? I believe I helped in building this!" Father had roared back. Father was not much of an angry man but when pushed, he could stand his ground, even against mother who was fierce when it came to words of hate.

"My family's wealth made this house in form of their dowry, if you dare to forget!" she threw back.

"I brought in ten times that wealth, in case you forget, into this marriage!" he batted back.

"In cursed Dragons' ill-gotten gains! That 'fortune' cursed me and my children the day we married, by...by that thing you called friend!"

He collapsed into his chair, the one nearest the fires, and sighed.

"That thing was my friend, murdered by your bastard brother, in name of holy retribution. I should have ..." Father stopped his breath hard as his hands trembled, grasping hard the chair's great arms.

Mother glared at him. "You should have what?"

"Killed him with my own hands!" he stood up fast, knocking his chair back, tipping it over hard against the floor nearest to me. I flinched back and scurried back to my room.

I heard silence through that night.

I feared the worse but the next morning father was already gone on his business, mother sat there at the table, smiling, no hate in her eyes. She loved her children "Beyond the moon and back!" as she always said, "You two are my greatest gift to this world!"

Not another word was said that I could hear after that.

Sara and I finished working in the garden and made it back to the house. "How was school?" she asked smiling, looking into the clear blue sky.

"It was okay!" I said.

We heard a great whoosh behind us, we turned quickly to see a great dragon, scarred from many battles and years of life lived, red skin and its claws reached out and pulled us into a hug.

"Grandfather!" Sara and I laughed. "We are suppose to fear you and smite you dead like brave knights!"

He roared in laughter. "Oh I have forgotten! You are human! My pardons great warriors!! ARGGGHHHH!!!" he mock fainted and gasped at faked dying breath.

All three of us laughed.

"Your grandmother sends greetings and cherry cakes as she knows they are yours and your father's favorite!"

There were more hugs.

"Speaking of, where is your father and that lovely woman you call your mother?" Grandfather looked around. "I see the garden is doing well!"

"Father is on his way home and mother, well, she said to tell you she was drawn away on unforeseen family business." Sara said, frowning.

"Oh well, another day to see the beauty that is my daughter-in-law! She is a fair princess you know, from a far away land!"

"Grandfather, tell us how, well, how you became our grandfather?"

He roared in laughter, flames filling the sky. "Aye, it a grand tale! But first, I would not be a good grandfather without presenting you, my favorite grandchildren, cherry cakes!"

He pulled two slices of cake from a bag he carried on his back.

"It was a day like any other day, my kin, as I flew high above the green fields of Fairland when I spotted near an oak tree, a basket."

Sara and I looked at each other, smiling. We had heard the tale a hundred times before but it never grew old.

"What was inside old man?" Our father's voice came from behind us.

Grandfather smiled, looking up. "A rascal, I would say now but well, I would not trade him for all the gold in the nineteen kingdoms and the Far Lands as well. He is my greatest treasure! A gift from the Gods, some would say."

Father laughed. "You probably thought it would have been better if you had left that basket where you found it and flew off at some points of my childhood!"

We all laughed.

"Aye my son, a few! But I didn't. And now, I have fierce warriors for grand children!"

This was how it always had been that I could remember.

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

But I am glad they had found their way there.

And this is how our story began my children and someday, I shall tell you, the rest of the story.

My children sat tiredly around me, yawning.

"Father! Shall you tell us the tale of how you and Aunt Sara found the Golden Dragon?" my youngest child asked, almost collapsing into his bed.

"I shall! I shall tell every tale from the beginning to the end, as someday, you shall tell your own children!"

I smiled as I kissed each one on their foreheads and tucked them into bed, leaving the door slightly ajar, to keep the evil trolls away, as my mother and father had done.