Serpent’s Song

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.

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Some began hearing whispers on the wind. Some caught a chronic shiver. Some had nightmares of ash raining down from the heavens. Most though, felt a rhythmic thumping in the very walls they lived within. It was as if the ground had a song to hum to all those that dwelled in Adysh.

Soon after the mountain’s song began, the fog began to gather. It’s gloom veiling the belly of the Valley. What once was clothed in wildflowers, now reeked of death. Dead trees pierced through the unnatural fog like rotted teeth in a withered mouth.

Some said the fog had a presence. Some said the fog could take hold of the mind. Very few tried to visit the Valley after the fog took residence. They didn’t come back.

There was a group that began meeting, they made sacrifices to the Valley. Some lept from their balconies carved out of the side of the mountain into the eerie lake of clouds. The Valley. Now notorious for the erosion of the mind. Fear chipped away at any rational thought. I began to think it’s what some said that was the true evil. Their words harassed me when I closed my eyes to sleep at night.

The sensation that my people were losing their humanity struck me one morning. As the future Waker for Adysh, I felt it was my responsibility to see that the Valley no longer drove my people to madness. No longer lured fearful minds to its maw to be devoured.

On a morning I felt particularly brave, I inched out of bed when the pale blue light of the early morning illuminated my room. Dressing in my most comfortable hiking clothes, my best boots, and a thick cloak to keep the rain from soaking through, I thought through what I would say to the fog. I slipped out of my room and journeyed down the sprawling hallways of the mountain. Each pathway was dimly lit with magic. Being the apprentice to The Waker, my business was the business of Drathon themselves, never to be questioned. Misty rain tickled my face as I made my way out of the darkness and down the side of the mountain’s steep walkway. Guards marked our borders now to prevent sacrifices to the Valley.

The mountain’s narrow path was carved out of the ash colored rock. Not a single shrub, plant, or blade of grass existed along the path. Our home was a smooth grey peak, barren aside from the thousands of balconies carved out of its side. I never noticed how out of place our home looked in contrast to the surrounding mountains. It was a cold and isolated beauty.

“Waker.” One of the guards addressed me. They bowed as I passed. I didn’t turn to face them though. I feared if I caught a glance of the Valley, I would lose my mind.

I continued downward, feeling as if I might topple face first into the fog below. The silence was consuming. The sense that I was being watched by more than the guards made me pull my hood over my head.

My mouth dried out. My hands were slick with sweat. Despite my cloak keeping me dry from the rain, I felt like my bones were wet. My breath escaped me.

The further down the slick charcoal path I got, the fewer and fewer guards dotted the ledge. Joining the pounding of my heart and rushing blood, a distant song rose up from the ground. Less and less guards scattered the walkway. Until I was alone. The last couple of hours were accompanied by my swarming thoughts and the humming of three notes. It felt like the song was coming from within me, yet all around me. Like the landscape threatened to pull me into its beating heart.

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. My legs began to weigh me down as if I’d sink straight into the rock. Just as I thought about turning back, I rounded the corner at the base of the mountain, and found myself face to face with a wall of fog.

It towered at least thirty feet high. I couldn’t control my trembling. Evil had made it’s home within the fog. The ghost of a song whispered to me, a song like organs rasping three notes over and over again. There was a shifting sound, like maybe someone was playing the song. Maybe it didn’t only exist in my mind. Thoughts scurried to the tune that echoed around me, bouncing off the barren peak I just descended.

Why did I come here? The smell of rotting flesh filled my nose. The putrid stink of death was startling. I peeled my lips apart to speak, the sound like stitches coming undone.

“Good morning.” My voice was barely a rasp. “My name is Xeo, future Waker. I’d like to speak with you about your trespassing.” I lifted my chin, trying to convince myself I had a shred of hope at accomplishing anything other than dying today.

Silence. Had the song stopped? I needed to turn back, but my feet wouldn’t move.

“Trespassing?” A voice from everywhere and nowhere came. A male and female, young, and old voice. The voice of many. The fog began to curl like it was resisting its invisible cage. My knees knocked up against one another I was trembling so violently.

“Yes, you are trespassing.” I repeated. I truly had a death wish then. I winced, waiting for the fog to melt my mind. I couldn’t help but stare into the abyss of curling shadows. Grating laughter met me from all angles. My teeth chattered so hard I could hear them clacking against each other.

“What will you do to me then Xeo, future Waker?”

“Nothing if we can talk. Who are you and why have you occupied the Valley?”

The silence sounded like the land held its breath.

The fog swiftly split into two columns, exposing a hallway of dark shadows and curling storm clouds. A too-tall figure at the far end of the hallway began walking towards me. The sound of chains clinking, whispering organs, thousands and thousands of voices chanting filled the air. The smell of sulfur stung my eyes. I fell to my knees. Ashes floated idly around me. I couldn’t breath. Couldn’t think. I could only stare as the figure got closer.

He stepped past the line of fog. A man so tall he couldn’t be real. Tussled ebony hair swept against grey skin. Broad shoulders and strong angular features gave him an etheral look. He was strangely stunning. He met my stare with his black eyes, his glowing blood red irises locking with my green ones. Was that a faint smile on his face? He had an open black shirt that revealed his chest, a chest that glowed red from within with every breath he took.

“It’s been a long time Xeo, since someone just wanted to talk.” His ashen face somehow beamed with charm.

“You are a serpent.” I choked on the last word.

He chuckled, the sound echoing. “Now what does a Waker know about dragons?”