Scorched Valley

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. I can still remember the stories my mother told us about the lush village she grew up in before the first attack. My sister would always beg for her to tell us a new one, the tales usually just mundane memories that Sage would use to create scenarios in the games of pretend we played.

And now I stood in the charred ruins of the village we imagined as children.

Ruck whistled and I peered around the boulder at my back. With a whistle back, I moved in a crouch across the dry dirt. Hidden once again by a ruined structure, I stood to my full height and glanced to my left. Philip crouched behind a pile of blackened rubble a few feet away and I nodded when we made eye contact. He returned the nod before rounding the pile and moving silently out of my line of sight. I faced forward again, my back to the structure and our prey beyond it. The dry and barren ground before me had random blackened buildings and debris dotting the flattened acres that stretched out toward the blue mountains in the distance.

I closed my eyes and pictured the street I had known for the last four years just beyond those far off mountains. My quiet flat sat atop the small bakery Talya’s parents run. The smell of bread and sweets wafting by as people haggled on the market street. I could see the view out my front bay window as I sat and had my morning tea. The walk to Ruck’s for Sunday dinners with Alacia, Conrad, and the girls.

I tipped my head back and grinned at the image of the little family waiting at the door to greet me. Focused on the warmth in my chest, I opened my eyes and sent my ready signal in the form of a bird call. Five matching calls sounded out from behind me. Clenching my jaw, I peered around the edge of my shelter and finally saw the dragon Sax had spotted an hour earlier.

Forest green scales and ink black talons adorned the beast as it sniffed the ground across the barren field before me. I took a quick look around and placed us in the dried riverbed my mother always described as a flowing ribbon in the center of town. I knew the team was scattered around the cracked ground, awaiting the signal to close in. Sax clicked his tongue twice to tell us to hold. Tasked with finding an aerial view, I knew he must be hidden in the tallest crumbled building, a large metal structure across the riverbed from me. The dragon crouched over the ground between us, sniffing and scratching at the dirt before it. A chirping sound emitted from its throat as dust puffed into the air below its nostrils. Its tail swooshed inward toward its belly and after a moment, the dragon laid down, hind legs still tense as it rested its head on its front claws.

Ruck whistled and Sax responded, appearing through an opening at the top of the building I'd assumed he was in. He notched an arrow into his bow and sent the ready call.

I pulled my long knife from the sheath at my hip and whispered, “Asme kin ton wes ku.” The blade warmed in my grip and the tip glowed white hot. I called my ready signal and watched the dragon’s tail twitch as the other four signals sounded around it. It had closed its eyes, but I knew from experience that a dragon seeing us was not nearly as dangerous as hearing us. Plenty of teams came back from their hunts without members who had made too much noise. Some teams never came back at all.

Ruck signaled with the two-toned whistle and each of the team rose from their crouches to converge. I ran out from behind my shelter and saw Phillip emerge on my left, the hilt of his white hot blade clenched in his fist. The patter of feet rapidly hit the dragon’s ears and wide golden eyes appeared as Conrad reached the firing distance on my right. He released his glowing arrow just as the dragon heaved up and the sharp tip buried into the underside of the animal’s head with a hiss. A cry pierced the air as a second arrow joined Conrad’s from the dragon’s other side, this one adorned with bright blue feathers. Talya whooped in the distance as the dragon’s wings beat out and I rolled to not get hit by a flailing claw.

Back on my feet, I ran to the underside of the beast as another cry pierced the air. I jabbed the tip of my long knife into the tough skin above me, the acrid smell of burning flesh and boiling blood filling my nostrils. With a feral cry, I pulled the blade through the dragon as I ran from beneath the belly of the beast. Violet blood splashed my body and a gurgle cut off the dragon’s scream, the sound dulled by the roar of blood pumping in my ears. My chest heaved with my breaths as I watched the green demon, now carrying several more arrowheads and bleeding gashes, sway and fall on trembling limbs.

As the beast continued to bleed, my team stood still with their weapons raised. Energy waves radiated off its body signaling it was close to death. The thicker scales along its back began to shudder and I exhaled.

I whispered, “Pinea tres,” and the blade of my knife cooled. I sheathed it before stepping toward the dragon’s throat. The golden eye nearest me tracked my movement as I touched the green flesh.

“Obne kom ti,” I whispered as the eye closed, and the shuddering and energy stopped. A moment passed before my team also sheathed their weapons and loosened their holds, I retracted my hand and smiled at my leader’s frown. “Relax, sourpuss.” Ruck’s face remained impassive. “Your kids will eat tonight.”

“You shouldn’t get so close when they’re hot,” he grumbled.

I pressed my lips together and raised an eyebrow. “It's green. No way it’d be able to roast me that close to death.” I stepped around a talon as I moved to inspect our kill.

“Probably a couple thousand pounds. That should be enough for Philip.” Talya giggled as she skipped closer, her tiny frame dwarfed by the bow at her back. Phil flipped her off as Conrad and Sax inspected the dragon’s head.

“Remove your arrows so we can get it to the butcher’s while it’s still fresh,” Ruck instructed. Sax loped over to the group, having climbed down from his perch to join the team, and started to gather his red striped arrows. Talya flit over to her decorated arrows while Conrad unceremoniously yanked his black tipped ones out.

The body clear of weaponry, the six of us moved to circle it and raised our hands. We simultaneously recited the first spell we were all taught in training, “Sacre tom li,” and pictured the clearing behind our town. The body blinked out of existence, and we lowered our hands. Ruck pulled out a piece of parchment and whispered as it caught fire in his hand. Sprinkling the ashes, we watched as they caught on the wind and floated out of sight to go tell the butcher of our kill. With a nod from Ruck, we started the hike back to our camp.

“Three in one hunt, that’s got to be a record,” Philip said, and looked to his brother.

With a shake of his shaven head, Sax muttered, “It’s five, last I checked.” Philip frowned.

“Still, that’s a hell of a lot more than the last hunt returned with,” Ruck cut in and Philip’s fallen grin rose once more.

“I miss Fredrick,” Talya whined, and Sax nudged her with his shoulder.

“Only three more days till our hunt is complete.” The group seemed to stand taller at his words.

Philip smiled widely. “I can’t wait to get back to the farm. Herald is probably spoiling the animals.” Chuckles followed his words as we all imagined Philip’s husband tending to their sheep and pigs.

I pictured my flat once more, relishing the few quiet recovery days I would soon get upon our return.

“Penelope has probably grown another inch or two since we left,” Ruck muttered. I smiled at the image of his boisterous four-year-old sprouting like a weed.

“You have blood in your hair,” Conrad said from beside me as the rest of the team chatted around us.

I ran a hand down my curls, feeling my hair coated in slick liquid. I went to wipe it off on my pants only to find not much of my clothes free of purple stains. I shrugged. “Not much I can do about it now.”

He nodded, still looking ahead. “You can use some of the water jug to wash it out when we get back. I can conjure more when you’re done.” As the only classically trained caster on the team, I grinned at the offer.

“That would be great. I haven’t had an actual shower in months.”

Conrad smirked at my joke but otherwise continued to stare ahead. Philip was now teasing Sax as Talya threaded her arm through Ruck’s and they both looked on. I smiled and tuned out their antics as my mind wandered to picture the long dead village we tread through.

Scorched ground crunched under our feet, and I imagined the house my mother grew up in. She had told us that the walls were made of red clay and her father had painted tiles and pressed them into the façade. A blue roof adorned the top and purple wildflowers grew in the yard. It was a long way from the brown and blackened landscape around my team.

We passed a burnt stump, and I remembered her voice as she described trees shading a dirt road and, in the spring, blossoms budding on the branches. I could almost pretend the breeze hitting my face carried the scent of nectar instead of ash.

“Come back,” Conrad whispered.

My gaze jerked back to meet his brown eyes. “What?”

“You were drifting again.” I glanced at the rest of the group, but none of them noticed the two of us in the back.

“My mother used to tell me and Sage stories of this place.” Conrad nodded at my words, facing forward as well.

“My father did too. He probably still tells The Flock about it.” His brows furrowed and I bit the inside of my cheek.

“I’ve been picturing the places she used to tell us about. I keep wondering if we’re walking the same streets I used to envision.”

Conrad shrugged. “Probably, but it does no—”

A rustle from behind us made the six of us hesitate before continuing to walk. Philip continued to loudly tease, but everyone was suddenly more alert. Conrad looked over at me and I nodded. We tapped our thighs twice and the four in front of us laughed at Phil’s words while tapping theirs back. After two more steps, we all whirled around and fell into formation, Philip and Sax falling into a crouch in front of us as Ruck and Talya notched their bows on either side of Conrad and me. My hand rested atop my knife’s hilt at my hip.

A pale young boy stood a yard in front of us, his shirt white and crisp against the desolate scenery. He smirked at our group as each side sized the other up. The boy placed his hands into the pockets of his black, loose pants and his shaggy blonde hair blew across his forehead in the wind.

“Hello, Auntie Shay,” he drawled as his golden eyes locked with mine.

My jaw clenched. “Hello, Raymour,” I grit out.