Numinous Menagerie

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. When the vortex squalls came, winds whipping and howling, lightning and ice pummeling the ground with fury; then the dragons were gone. The whole flight would tuck away to whatever shelter they seek. Then my father could lead the Rangers into the Valley armed with spears of wood and thick padded leathers and blades of stone to not draw the lightning, to collect as many wooly aurochs as they can carry.

That’s what happened two days ago. I watched with the other apprentices from the Valley edge, waiting to help with the wounded and the carcasses. A handful of us including myself will be joining them in a season or two at most. For now, we merely descended halfway towards the Valley floor- where the hail is only the size of my fist- to be the first offering aid. We only lost three Rangers; two caught bad hailstones and Isak’s armor came loose and caught the wind, taking him into the sky on the gale. It was a somber reminder that you can’t be certain of anything out here. Although Isak’s loss was avoidable, the cost was lower than many hunts. The meat infused with dragon mana by virtue of living in the Valley will feed the tribe almost until the next vortex squall; past it if we're lucky.

Today, hunkered on the ridge looking into the Valley, I could see the gleaming reflected light from scores of dragons and their metallic scales. I had been watching them since dawn. Alone or in pairs, they flew into and out of the Valley sporadically. Some brought burnt meat to the elder dragon watching over the handful of hatchlings still too young to fly, others carried live aurochs to some hidden place of slaughter, still others delivered rare minerals to the clutch in the center of the colony. I tried to convince myself it was their beauty, not terror, that kept me fixed to my spot, captivated by their awesome presence. I had a mission. Slow my breathing, plan my movements; slow my breathing, plan my movements. I knew what I was getting myself into, now go. I closed my eyes, martialed my courage, gathered my legs beneath me, and-

“What are you doing?” Badar hissed in my ear.

I nearly succeeded in jumping out of my skin. “I…” Hopefully any dragons in earshot thought that was some birdcall.

“I suspected you were up to trouble when I saw you slinking off on your own” His worried expression did not help put me at ease. Quite the opposite in fact.

“I am out finding forage!” I finished, quietly seething. Time is burning away. I don’t know when I will get another opportunity to slip away from oversight so close to the vortex squall!

“Finding forage by the Valley? Like some lost toddler! Should I take you to the Healers to examine your mind?” Badar’s eyes were on the ridge, seeing if my stifled squawk had drawn any attention. From his stillness, I presumed we were undetected.

I collapsed back down, where I could see for myself. I didn’t have much of a choice. His hand was clamped on my shoulder. “Just get out of here. You're going to give us away, and then we’ll both die!”

“You look like a woman throwing herself off a ledge. I am not going to allow you to do that. I was wondering why you keep asking Lorekeeper Ain for the tale of Montierth. You’re daft! The tribe hasn’t had a sorcerer in generations beyond counting! Lorekeeper Lanif has even wondered if some of the old stories are embellished beyond truth!”

Anger and fear welled up inside me. “We are dying! There have been more, increasingly vicious, attacks on Foragers and Rangers alike. The Scouts are finding fewer safe paths and we had to avoid the Basilisk Tribe during last season's trading because the Scouts learned they were setting an ambush. We had to move the tribe through a thicket of Stanglevines last time the moon was full. I was there when Scoutmaster Lilah made her report- Armored Glyptos and some toxic pool forced us through those. We were lucky how few of us the plants took! When Nurse Idris was a child, he claims the tribe would need six dozen aurochs to last between storms, but now we need less than a half dozen.” My fervor drained from me as fear came back and I blinked away tears that were threatening to cloud my vision. Focus, don’t get caught being emotional in the middle of a hunt; time for that later. “Father is worried.”

“Feeding a dragon is not the solution. I’m sure the elders have a plan. I see your father, Scoutmaster Lilah, and Raidmaster Hamza in seclusion every night. They are finding ways to keep us safe!”

Badar was a sweet young man, but as you can see, quite stupid sometimes. “I hear him return at night telling mom- Blasted! Get down, one’s coming!”

I know how to track dragon movement-it’s critical Ranger training. One of the dragons angled toward us had started its pre-flight hops, so we had a moment before it could reasonably sense us. I hadn’t finished my whispered warning before action overtook thought. I was shoving Badar into the divot and slipping in beside him, ensuring we both had the benefit of the cover.

My chosen lookout point was a shallow dip in the earth where a slight overhang of kudz would obscure me from above. I was not planning to fit a whole other person with me though. He helped by working some more greenery over us. Hopefully the washed out green of my cloak and the brown of my armor and tawny skin were sufficient camouflage in the bright sunlight against the rampant kudz and exposed earth. As we squeezed together in the small shadow I sighed, regretting the loss of the fruit, and crushed one of the mistberries I kept with me. The mana-rich freshwater smell should work with the hail still melting throughout the Valley to obscure our scent. Three left, which means I’ll have to wait until I’m well within the dragon’s outer perimeter before I use the next one. Great.

I had been listening to the tale of Montierth trying to glean any detail of how to reach the clutch and steal an egg. The last warrior to try, three generations ago, lost Montierth’s blade and shield in his attempt. The dragon-metal knife was sharp enough to cut through a Glypto’s hide and the matching shield was nearly impossible to destroy, its front unmarred even by Agleb Venom. Every hero has tried to use the relics to replicate Montierth’s feat, but none since have survived. The stories say eating a dragon egg will grant access to their magic and the repeated failures have led many in the tribe to lose hope in a new Sorcerer rising. Lorekeeper Lanif believes otherwise. I have had my own quiet lessons from him and he gave me two questions from his studies that may be clues. He asked me is metal something that the dragons can easily sense, and when was Montierth first described with his legendary relics? I am betting the dragon-metal was not part of Montierth's egg theft. I came with my long obsidian knife, aurochs-leather armor, a few precious herbs and such which I stole from the Healers’ and Scouts’ tents last night and my skills as a Ranger. I was betting Lorekeeper Lanif has great wisdom; it would have to be enough.

I reminded myself why my plan was a good one. We stilled, crushed together in our tiny overhang, smelling each other’s sweat for a few quiet moments. I was wishing my body was smaller to not stick out enough to be seen from the sky when a shadow flickered past us. I looked out to see a multitude of flickering scales as the dragon continued gaining altitude. The light played mesmerizingly along the reflective hide as it carved a serpentine path through the air. My heart stopped for a moment as it raced away from us, and only started again when Badar asked “Is it gone, you think?”

I did, but instead of saying anything, I started to move. I didn’t want to give him another opportunity to save me. I’m the best of the Rangers apprentices on par with some of the Rangers with a season or two behind them; my father’s daughter, I suppose. Many of the veterans are excited to have me at their backs. I'm swift, agile, and I know how to fight. None of these are skills Foragers get in their apprenticeships, which require hauling strength, stealth, and endurance. All of this is to say that when I moved, all of Badar’s Forager training was useless to stop or follow me. I slipped from the hollow, twisted over the ridge and dropped into the decline toward the Valley. In that whole time, his only reaction was a weak “Nyla, wait…scorched earth, come back!”

I held myself low and swiftly worked my way forward, keeping one eye on the dragons I was approaching and another on my feet so I did not turn my ankle in the thick groundcover or a half melted hailstone. My plan was simple. During a vortex squall, the aurochs create holes by digging into the earth and tuck their heads under their thick, fatty hides to protect themselves, letting earth and mud hold them in place while their tough skin gets pelted by the hail. Those holes get trampled flat and overgrown again just a few days after the vortex squall passes, but it had only been two. I was going to navigate from pit to pit, hiding much like I did from my lookout point until I reached the clutch. If I failed, I had better die because I would not be able to face my family or the elders in a trial for stealing the goods I needed to succeed, but if I made it back, I would have the power to defend the tribe and reclaim lost land.

I was off to collect a very special forage. I was going to eat a dragon egg.

⛭ ⛭ ⛭

Dragons are proud creatures, but not very bright. They are smart enough to keep the aurochs around, like ants farming aphids, but not much else. Consummate hunters, yes. Deadly metal-tipped strength and storm-breath of lightning and ice, also yes. They have a symbiotic relationship with the aurochs and the kudz. Their supremacy and security mean that unless they are actively defending their territory or have been roused for some other violent purpose, they are lazy and inattentive. Not much beside the vortex squall really threatens an adult dragon. The last time our tribe was forced to fight one off, it killed a few dozen of our best fighters and froze an entire yurt solid before we hurt it enough to drive it off. Luckily, that was a couple generations ago. I’m not sure we can put together a large enough force to fend one off these days.

My hand sifted through my herbalist pouch. Three mistberries, two Sphinx Tribe mint leaves, two river aloe shoots, a small wrapped honeycomb, and one thunder beetle husk... I counted and recounted nervously to keep my fear at bay. I moved fast, while I was still difficult for a dragon to spot. Plotting my course until I was too far down to clearly see the soft depressions of ruddy soil that would offer the safest path through the Valley. The only dragon that was actively surveying its surroundings was the elder dragon guarding the young. I had to stay away from him as long as possible. Unfortunately, the hatchling pit and the clutch were beside each other. Freeze my bones, this is going to be a problem.

I pulled my knife out at the base of the slope and began the slow crawl to my first target. Cutting through the thickest patches and moving slowly to not disturb the foot-tall canopy, I eventually spilled into the first pit, rechecked the spacing of shining monsters, and looked for any incoming or outgoing threats.

Slow my breathing, plan my movements; slow my breathing, plan my movements. Move on. Then to the next pit and the next.

I was near the aurochs now; that was good, the herd would offer greater cover. My chest was burning, and my knees and hips were raw and bruised from dragging over roots and stone. Wincing, I levered my upper body through another tangle of stems and found myself looking up at the throat of a dragon. The neck alone was twice as tall as I am and I scrambled through my pouch and crushed a mistberry to obscure my scent, hopefully before getting sniffed out. The sun has passed though its zenith and I am was this coppery beast’s shadow, but I’ve been keeping my face to the wind so I wait. Slow my breathing, plan my movements.

It snorts loudly, almost musically, the sound is big and ringing, and I’m covered in a thick fog as it releases a cloud from its nostrils. There is a loud crack followed by a thump as a hailstone beats me into the next pit. One side is completely smooth like it grew on a table instead of in the sky. The visceral and casual expression of power from the dragon's bite shocks me into a panic. Right at the precipice of this pit my whole body starts shaking and I can feel a wail building in my chest. The fear response of a prey animal who seeks safety in community. But my community won’t hear me, I’ll only get neatly bit just like that hailstone. Reaching for my pouch my quaking hand fumbles through its inventory. My jaw hurts from clenching it shut and I inhale to scream and shove the bruised mint leaf into my mouth as my teeth open against my crumbling will.

The sphinx-magic infused in the mint leaf immediately starts to take hold like the world around me is merely a puzzle to solve. My animalistic terror replaced by mild interest, I feel my body relaxing from the mint leaf on my tongue outward. I note that my herbalist pouch has spilled its contents but I don’t have time to collect them, mechanically I control my movements and grab my knife. I leverage my training and leap over the pit, tumble across a thin patch of kudz; most likely a grazing path from this morning; and as the mist around me starts to lighten, I slide beneath an auroch and am safely in the herd.

There are some major advantages to being surrounded by great big slabs of living meat, namely they make it difficult to be seen from ground level, my scent can be lost in the mix of the larger animals, and it is mobile. There is the major downside of the high chance that while I am here dragons may land and collect members of the herd for grooming or feeding. If I can get the herd to move toward the clutch just a little bit, I can reach the eggs and start escaping. The Sphinx mint is wearing off, I can feel a jitteriness returning to my fingers. With the auroch offering some cover, I can give my arms a rest moving low but not actually crawling, so long as I keep my eyes on the sky.

I check what's left in my herbalist pouch. I lost both river aloe shoots, the other Sphinx mint, and another mistberry. Blast it. That was an expensive panic.

Pulling out the honeycomb, I waved it under the nearest aurochs and start making my way past the hatchling pit circling as wide around it as I dare. Each aurochs I pass gets a noseful of honey and when it moves to take a bite I'm on my way to the next. The movement in the center alerted the rest of the herd to activity and like water in a stream the whole group began moving with me. I toss the bit of honeycomb ahead of the next aurochs and tuck myself next to its great hide watching for incoming dragons. They seem to have noticed the movement and a pair swoop down to settle the herd. One landing at the back knuckling along looking for what may have caused them to move. A powerful gust of wind blows down on me as its partner passes over carrying an especially animated animal. Almost there. I have to duck under the aurochs I matched myself with to see clearly but the herd was making ponderous progress much faster than I had been making while crawling. The dragon in the back snorts a few times before hopping into the air moving to the front of the herd. As it sailed over me I check on the elder dragon with the hatchlings and see my chance. With quick strides I cross to the outskirts and settle in on my belly again past the last aurochs

Inching my way to the gentile rise where the eggs were kept I hold my eyes on the elder dragon. The wind was relatively still, my heart pounding loudly in my ears. Slow my breathing, plan my movements. What is its pattern? Don’t panic, I don’t have anything else-

Metallic screeching breaks into my thoughts. A couple of hatchlings had gotten into a fight. Perfect. I crush my last berry, watch the elder dragon turn to do some mothering and hop into the clutch. The dragon's eggs were easy to pick out. Frost collects on them and the hair all the way along your arm stands up when you touch them; I snag one. Moving back to the edge I eye some of the bits of metal. A few of those would be at least as valuable as the plants I took. Is metal is something that the dragons can easily sense. Probably not worth it. As quick as I can I get back in the kudz. Flight energy is rushing through my system and I make it back to the aurochs who had continued wandering past the clutch before the ache in my arms stops any further progress

I look behind me at the elder dragon and it seems to not have noticed anything amiss. However, on the far side of the Valley where I came from, a dull gray dragon was puffing out ice with its nose just above the kudz. It was searching for something along the path I passed through. Fortunately I was already on the other side of the clutch from where I started so it was not even as far as I had already come to get out again. Unfortunately the sun was already riding low, only two fingers above the raised edge of the Valley. Time for an emergency.

I grab out the thunder beetle husk and lob it into the hatchling pit and wait... Did I get it close enough? It must have drawn their attention…patience! I should be crawling again, but my arms are too worn out to pull me over the difficult terrain and I need to manage the egg. Then I hear the loud crack of the husk bursting and the aurochs bellow in alarm fleeing from the sudden sharp sound. I leap to my feet and start running with them. After creeping and slow frustrating progress most of the day the freedom to run was liberating, but the air above me was starting to fill with the sound of dragon wings. The sun rapidly losing height behind the Valley ridge was making it harder to track what was happening on the ground. Running with the herd we quickly made it to the edge of the dragons normal resting grounds but I was not out yet. Ahead of me a pair were flapping their wings towards the aurochs deterring them from fleeing the Valley. I swerve to change course to avoid them and suddenly I hit the ground.

I had tried to split my attention too far and got snagged by the kudz, but I only had to make it a little farther. I was already in the shadow of the ridge. I grabbed the egg to my chest and felt a slimy wetness, there was a wide crack with the pale egg seeping out. I almost fainted, and without thinking I did what I came here to do, put the egg to my lips and drank the insides. It tasted awful like sour blood and bitter ash. It burned my throat and froze my chest and I stumbled forward. I looked around at what appeared to be the night sky spots of light in a vast darkness. That can’t be right, the sun should not be fully hidden yet? I fell into the kudz, my vision going completely dark, pain shooting down my arms and legs ending in numbness in my hands and feet and blacked out.