Silverwort and Dragonsbane

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.

Before piercing talons and punishing fire, these lands were once ruled by sharp blades and sharper tongues. Before the age of dragons, there was the age of us.

The legends of the time before the Firebreathers ring like deathbells, echoing off these ancient mountains, waking sleeping perils. For though the dragons are fierce and dangerous, it is the dark wills of men that are to be feared above all else.

And even more, the wills of men as of yet unfinished.

There are many tales I could tell you of the time before the dragons. A time before magic is a time that is dangerous indeed, for without magic, power can only reside in the violent, the vigilant, and the vengeful.

I could tell you of the Kings and Queens that fought like magpies over crowns, slaying each other for power, merciless in their quest to quench their thirst for it. I could tell you of the folk hero Foalan, who sought to bring balance to the harsh world of Before, and took from those who clung to their treasure hoards fiercer than a Goldsnout dragon, and gave instead to those with nothing.

But the tale that must be told is the tale of Neve. For she is the one who woke the dragons from their stone slumber, deep under the mountain. Hers is the tale that all thought would doom us. Hers is the tale of our end. Hers is the tale of our beginning.

***

It was not the frigid water that made Neve curse, even as it licked up her shins. It was the wind, as icy as the Cailleach’s breath. Once a wind like that got down the back of your neck, settled along your bones, you were done for.

Neve waded further into the forest pool, her mouth grit into a line. She hoped that Orlaith hadn't been mistaken about seeing Silverwort growing here in the crack of the submerged rock.

The icy breeze picked up, rustling the bare branches high above her. It would still be a turning of the moon before the first tendrils of spring grew courage to reach through the dark cold earth.

Once Spring came, things would become a little easier. The vegetables in Neve’s garden would grow, and perhaps she would gain a little of the flesh back onto her bones. She could sell the Silverwort at the market, and it would fetch her enough for some cheese and bread. Perhaps she might buy a rose for Orlaith. It was a silly thing, something that would live and die, but Orlaith loved them. And Neve loved to watch the look of joy that came over her face when Orlaith inhaled the sweet, floral scent. No, she could not eat a rose, but she also could not survive without love. As it was, Neve had finished the last of the squash and the wrinkled old apples two days ago. If the bounties of spring did not come soon, she feared she might become like Iona of the Green Hills and simply crumble into dust.

Neve took another step, watching for the glint of silver in the shadows. Just beyond the pool was the mouth of a dark cave, half hidden behind dead and yellowed vines from last summer. The growth hung upon the rock like wet hair, flat and lifeless.

The wind came to her, rustling the dead vines. Taunting and laughing as if it carried the voices of mischievous sprites and pixies upon it.

But ah, those were just the tales for children to be told around the embers of a fire. There had never been any magic in this valley. And there never would.

There was the old tales of the Fae and the Goddesses and Gods, but those were all folly, too. Myths of magic and adventure, to give courage in the hard times. It was no wonder that the people of the Valley had made up such tales. For life here was no adventure, and held no magic. There was only work and toil, suffering and death. There was not one family in the valley that did not struggle, did not go hungry. In the long cold months, the Valley always lost many. And always, there were those who sat in the throne upon the hill like birds of prey upon their nests, feasting and drinking, not caring in the slightest who lived and who died below. And always, there was those who would destroy others so that they may gain a foothold up the steep mountain side, closer to the windswept throne high, high above.

A shine of silver caught Neve’s eye. There, in the crevasse of a half submerged rock, the silvery tendrils of Silverwort stretched up toward the moon. Orlaith had been right when she had said she saw Silverwort growing in the forest pool. Neve waded closer, reaching for the little knife at her belt. She grasped onto the herb, ignoring the painful, needle-like pricks that grew along the stem, and sliced through it with her knife. Neve pulled her kerchief out her pocket and laid the herb in it, wrapping it with practiced ease. She’d left enough of the stem behind so that the plant would once more sprout from it’s rocky outcropping.

The wind picked up then, and Neve felt it pull at her hair as if some small creature sat on her shoulder. The trees above creaked in the wind, and for a moment, Neve swore that she heard a voice. Someone calling her, someone beckoning her onward, down into the cavernous dark.

Neve. Sweet, curious Neve…

She stilled, It took a moment to gather her courage before she let her eyes cast over the cave mouth. There was nothing there, nothing but the yawning black, a few of the vines swaying slightly in the breeze.

She turned and began wading back out of the frigid pool, toward shore. Droplets of water dripped down her knees in icy, luminescent pearls.

But there it was again.

Neve, oh Neve. Won’t you come to us?

Neve felt the goosebumps crawl like a spider up her back. The voice was coming from the dark cave.

She knew that she shouldn't. Knew that it was probably just a trick of the mind, a displaced echo. But...

Could it be possible that there was some kernal of magic in this static world? Some whisper of something more, something enchanting and immortal? The weight of her droll, unchanging life suddenly seemed to push down upon her shoulders, push against the small of her back until Neve found herself standing at the cave mouth, staring into the dark depths. The dead vines seemed to move like outstretching hands, beckoning her to take just a few more steps. Neve didn't waver. She stepped through them, and down, down, into the darkness.

There was nothing in the cave but more darkness. Neve walked on, ever downward, spiraling closer and closer into the earth. And with every step, the echoes of voices followed her.

Neve... Neve... yes, closer, ever closer...

The voice was ancient, it was many voices and one voice. Neither good nor evil. It led her on, and on into the dark, the walls closing inward and tightening. As the rock grew closer, Neve felt warmth emanating from the rock, as if it had been warmed from the sun. But down here, in this blackness...

She traced a hand along the wall as she went, the warmth growing into full heat, until it was almost too hot to touch. The chill in her bones from the late winter chill was chased away, until beads of sweat dripped down her neck and chest.

Neve swallowed, and finally the cave leveled out and the walls began to grow higher, until she stepped into a tall chamber.

High, high above her, there was a hole in the top of the cavern, where the moonlight shone through. The silver beam made the whole cavern glow. Neve stood, mouth open. For in the moonlight she could see great stone shapes, carvings of tall beasts, their long tails looping around the cavern, their great claws curved as if ready to strike, their dagger-like teeth barred. But most of all, their eyes, large and fierce and full of fire, stone though they were.

Hello, Neve. We have been waiting for you.

She grasped tightly onto the folds of her skirts, hands shaking beneath the fabric.

We have waited far longer than human memory, here in the dark.

Neve swallowed. "Come where I can see you, then." Her voice sounded strong. Good, for she did not feel it.

You do not need to see us to hear us, Oh Neve.

Neve took a few more steps into the cavern, her heart beating like a butterfly's wing against her ribs.

"Who are you?"

We are the old ones. The voices echoed louder here, bouncing between the great stone beasts. Neve walked among them, holding her breath. We are the stars in the night sky, watching as humans come in and out like the tide below. We are the stones beneath your feet, stretching down to the very core of the earth. We are bones and scales and teeth and claws. We are cold wind and burning fire.

"So you're... monsters? Are you evil?"

A sound like an ancient, cruel laugh rang through the chamber, echoing, echoing, echoing. Evil. What is evil? What is a monster but a beast that others were too afraid of to understand?

A shiver ran through Neve, despite the intense heat. "Why... why did you call me here?"

We did not call you. Not really. You were led to us. Bait. A rabbit left for the foxes.

Neve could not move, could not think. But the voices, the jagged, harsh and gentle voices continued.

The one you love is like a shadow in the night. Like a slippery eel in a backward flowing river. She does not love as you love. She seeks only comfort, and then wants more, until simple comfort is not enough.

"I... I don't understand..."

But you will, Neve. For though the wills of lesser men move you across the chessboard, they forget that there is a greater power. A power that can not be shaped by sharp steel or sharp tongues. A power that belongs to no one but the wind and the flames.

"What power?" Neve asked, her heart in her throat. Sweat was dripping down her back now. She had begun stepping backward, begun moving back out of the cave. Wrong, it was all wrong. She was in danger, she was...

Her foot met up against one of the great stone beasts. Slowly, as if she couldn't bare to look, she turned, hands shaking, to look upon the face of the beast.

In the silver light, she could see it clearly now. The sharp, fierce face. The face of a mythical monster, the face of fire and wind. She could have sworn something behind the eyelid flickered.

Neve leaned closer, breath a whisp of air in her mouth, closer toward the face of the thing she never dreamed might be possible.

And then the great stone eyes opened.