Return of the Dragons

There weren't always dragons in the Valley, but the sight of the titanic scaled creatures had become commonplace since the barriers fell two months ago. Nestled in an idyllic alpine valley, the town of Drakefall had known peace and contentment for centuries. Gleaming beneath the snow-capped peaks of the mountains the prosperous town perched delicately on the bank of the White Arrow river flowing down from the glaciers above. The thunderous tumult rushing from the eponymous Drake Falls hundreds of feet above into the walled pool at the town's centre dominated the landscape, the roar of the falls echoing through the frigid air drifting through the snow-laced pines. Some distance outside the town, enormous stone megaliths channelled cerulean light into a dazzling barrier of magical energy encompassing the entire valley in a protective field. This is how it had always been.

No-one knows why the magic holding the ancient megaliths together finally gave out, though everyone has a theory of course. The stones had protected the town of Drakefall beyond living memory, generating a barrier of potent magic through which only a select few could pass safely. Bedecked with thick, vertiginous moss the towering edifice of each ancient monument was covered in glowing arcane script, each tiny symbol--the size of a fingernail--finely engraved into the porous blue stone. The distant, resonant hum of the 'Barrier Stones' was comforting to the people of Drakefall, rising and falling throughout the day in a reassuring cycle, like waves gently lapping upon the shore. Two months ago, everything changed.

An ominous pall fell across the valley in the night, as the familiar hum slowed, crackling like the dying breath of an ancient god finally fading away. At first it was easy to miss, to dismiss the absence as a trick of a tired mind, but within the hour alarms were being raised and panic began to spread through the residents. Then the first dragon arrived. The deafening crack of leathery wings split the night air as a shadow appeared before the waxing moon high above, followed by a roar that shook the winter snow from rooftops and trees alike. "Dragon!" Panic spread like wildfire as the townsfolk scattered, desperate the get inside and away from the titanic beast bearing down above them. Windows rattled as the dragon swooped low overhead, the shadow of its gigantic wings eclipsing the pallid moonlight bathing the cobbled streets below. Landing with earth-shattering presence the creature stood in the town square, perched on the lip of the sprawling plunge pool and addressed the town. "I am Vorskadix, Chosen of the Moon and Sky, and First Lord of the Undrakken. Come forth and be judged." The dragon's voice rumbled like distant thunder as it spoke, each word carrying the weight of centuries. One by one, terrified residents answered the creature's summons, creeping from their homes to stand in a huddled mass before the beast. "We have walked this land for eons, before your kind crawled from your caves and hovels, and laid claim to our sacred sites with your craven enchantments. The dragon lowered its titanic head with a smooth, ponderous motion addressing the crowd at eye level. "You may stay here, but you will do so as our servants" Disgruntled murmurs spread through the gathered crowd and a predatory smile spilt the creature's cracked, scaly lips as it flicked a leathery tongue across yellowed fangs the size of wagon spokes. "Of course..." the dragon paused, savouring the tension in the air "You are welcome to disagree". None dared to meet the gaze of the colossal wyrm, and a grim chuckle slithered from Vorskadix's belly "I thought not. I will take up residence on the mountain and make preparations for my kin to arrive." Another wave of hushed concern rippled through the townsfolk "Oh yes" the dragon purred "I am not alone".

Adarah looked out from her window, watching the droplets chase each other down the cool glass as she sipped her gently steaming tea. She watched the rain pooling on the cobbled street outside and her thoughts drifted. Things had changed so much since the dragons had come. Her gaze wandered to the wall of the central pool, scarred with wide furrows from the great wyrm's talons. Sometimes it didn't seem real, when she closed her eyes and listened to the symphony of rain pattering on her window she could almost believe things were just as before. She imagined walking down the street, waving to her neighbours on her way to the bakery, cloak pulled tightly around her to keep out winter's chill, the warming scent of cinnamon and cloves floating through the air. Her home shook as a dragon flew low overhead and her nostalgic reverie was broken abruptly. She furrowed her brow and held the cup tightly, her knuckles pale with effort. Who did they think they were to lord over us? To disrupt the lives of everyone in this town on a whim?. Her grip tightened further. What gave them the right to lay claim to the land! An audible crack snapped her back to reality as the cup shattered in her hands, sending shards tumbling to the ground. Blood pooled in her palm as she cursed and grabbed a towel to bind the wound.

Adarah was a striking individual. Lustrous black hair, bound in dreadlocks, swept down her back, a jewelled clasp binding the strands together. Though she wore simple work clothes in muted tones of green and grey, she carried herself with the self-assured air of nobility, her every movement deliberate and precise--just as she had been taught. Sharp, violet eyes contrasted with the warm tones of her dark, freckled skin, and the heat of defiance danced behind the amethyst. Her mother had often said those with "Veil Sight", as she called it, could see far more than most--perhaps even worlds beyond our own. Though she had always brushed off her mother's fanciful stories as nonsense she had to admit they seemed more believable every day. Her lips curled into a wry smile at the thought. To think, just two months ago she hadn't even believed in dragons, now she was cursing them with irritating regularity as they rattled her windows at all hours with their incessant aerial posturing.

Lost in thought, she didn't hear the knock at the door as she swept up the fragments of her ill-fated beverage. "Looks like you could use a hand?" Terryn stood in the doorway, a grin plastered across his round, boyish face framed by tousled red hair damp from the rain. "Not too injured for our trip I hope?", a chuckle died in his throat as she glared at him "Keep your voice down" she hissed "Gods only know what might happen if the lizards get wind of the plan". He smirked, his soft, blue eyes sparkling with mirth, and held his hands up apologetically "I know, just trying to lighten the mood you know?" Adarah's posture softened, Terryn had always enjoyed winding her up ever since they were children running through the trees, playing at make believe. Tales of brave knights battling fearsome creatures, charging around on 'horses' made from broom handles as they sparred with sticks. Those were happier times. "I just need to pack a few things, but I'll meet you at the Western Gatehouse at sunset like we planned" she spoke with confidence but a tremor crept into her voice as she continued, "If something goes wrong we'll split up and meet at the old tower in the hills ok?" He nodded sternly then shrugged "If we get caught I doubt they'll be much left of us anyway" he flashed a mischievous grin, ignoring Adarah's withering look of condemnation. Fastening his soft, blue cloak tightly around his shoulders Terryn took his leave and wandered out into the rain. Adarah glanced at the weather-beaten satchel on the table--her supplies for the mission--and steadied herself with a slow, deep breath muttering a silent prayer to her ancestors. Nothing would be the same after tonight.