Scars of Nede

CHAPTER 1: DRAGONS' LAWS

There weren’t always dragons in the valley.

Of course, there wasn’t always peace either. In fact, there was never peace.

The Valley of Nede is a beautiful and bountiful place; always been. The surrounding mountains are home to the goats we hunt, the rolling mist keeps vegetation at a healthy shade of green, and the stream of fresh water pools into a small lake the middle of the valley. An evergreen fragrance wafts along with the stream and picks up the scents of wild roses and lavender as it reaches the settlements. If it weren’t for the Scars, you’d never know there’d war for generations.

The Scars mark the borders between each town; four scorch miles long scorch lines that keep everyone in their place – and no one dares cross.

In the northwest is Anadac in the heart of the forest. Everyone here knows how to swing an axe by the age of twelve. Anadacians are stern and proud people, who fear fire above all else; reserving its use for the coldest winter nights, and even then, only with a consensus from the Elders is lighting a fire not a punishable offense. Anadacians respect nature, and the Dragons’ Laws.

On the eastern side of the North Scar is Nori at the base of Scaleborne Mountain. Norians have access to the metals of the earth. Between the miners’ daily expeditions deep into the caves, the grueling work of blacksmiths, and the fishers who dare approach the lake, Norians border on reckless lifestyles. When Norians turn eighteen they must run across the North Scar, brand their first initial onto an Anadacian tree, and make it back without being caught, in order to be taken seriously as an adult.

The southern towns were the most sought after during the war. In the east lie the fertile fields of Genira. The Geniri were the only people to try making peace without the dragons. They believed they had a bountiful enough harvest to share all around, and they could settle differences by the leaders sharing a meal together. The feast went smoothly, but everyone left hungry for a bigger share of the land – and so the bitter feud officially hangered into war. To this day, they believe the Scars were unnecessary – in the early days after the dragons, several of Geniri people were caught trying to heal the eastern and southern scars. Severe punishments from the dragons put an end to these efforts, and the Geniri tend to their land with their heads bowed in humility.

In the southwest is Roca. The Rocanese are blunt, judgmental, and stubborn. They tolerate the Laws. They have a monopoly on the fishery, they’re connected to Anadac by the streams running down the mountains, and they share the vineyards with Genira. Rocanese interact with the neighboring villages regularly. The Anadacians have little patience for Rocanese behaviour; the Norians always retaliate; but the Geniri insist on approaching them with kindness.

Olivut, the Dragons’ keep, is an igneous formation in center of the lake. From this perch the threat of retribution looms over the entire valley. At first, this was a blessing.

People have inhabited Nede for two hundred years. Four ex-slaves bonded together and led the others in a mass exodus from the neighboring desert culture. Fifty years later, the people had spread out and the original leaders had grandchildren. An afternoon of childhood innocence led to the discovery of the most coveted resource in Nede: the healing properties of Chlora Lake. One of the children became grievously injured after obeying a dare. Two of his friends ran off to get the adults, leaving the darer sweating in her boots. In fit of desperation, she filled her hands with water from the lake and, thinking it could sooth the pain, poured it on the wound. The boy screamed in pain, and then sighed in relief. To her shock, the girl looked down to see the gaping wound close on itself – only the boy’s blood-soaked tunic remained as evidence of the incident. The boy sat up slowly and both children gaped - he at his suddenly healed belly, and she at the lake – until their parents came running up demanding explanations.

The parents’ wanted to keep Chlora’s healing properties secret; but heaven knows how children talk. Children’s whispers became rumor, and rumor became public knowledge. Finally, there was a council. There was general outcry over the original parents’ attempt to cover up this incredible resource, and harsh accusations were made. It was proposed that the lake should be distributed by one of the other two core families; the people all took sides – friends and families were divided.

The original parents’ and their supporters retreated south, and the accusers and theirs went north. Both halves intended to regroup and confront the other. But when the time came, the girl’s parents claimed the boy’s parents were the only ones who intended to keep the water to themselves. Offended, the boy’s parents claimed the opposite, and their united front devolved. On the southern side, neither could resolve who should be the primary distributor. The petty arguing became violent and resulted in a four-sided Civil War. Another fifty years saw an accepted culture of pillaging, assassination attempts, and brawls – life-long friends became loathed enemies. The Last Battle came shortly after the Feast of Genira. Anadac had a double front fighting Nori and Roca; Nori and Roca both laid siege to Genira, and Genira suffered a massacre for refusing to engage.

That’s when the dragons interfered. To this day, no one can say where they came from, except from above. The people were all set to ensure their own doom, when fire rained down across the no-man’s land between each battle front simultaneously. Before each battle one of the dragons glared down at the frightened fighters divided by the blazing border. They commanded all the people to assemble at the shore of the lake, where they first encountered Olivut still freshly smoldering. There perched Darius, patriarch of the dragons – his ebony scales amidst the flame brought the people to their knees – and his queen, Alizée. Their four children assumed positions on their respective scars; they bowed low to their parents and turned their gazes on to the frightened people. Here the Laws were laid down. No one crossed the scars without permission from the presiding dragon of each settlement. Yuka – white, beautiful, and unreadable eldest daughter - presides over Anadac. Damian – Yuka’s twin and betrothed, proud, cruel, and scarlet – looms over Nori. Chusi – the youngest and favourite daughter – blends in with the green of the Geniri vineyards and takes her choice of the livestock. Matto – the blue and brooding second son – inhabits the shadows of Roca; no one has truly seen him in fifty years.

The people haven’t been at war in a hundred years; and neither have the dragons relented their wrath.