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Song of the Valley

The Valley, beautiful with its rolling hills, lush greenery, and tales of elves, witches and dragons. Come along and hear the song of the Valley. Chapter One:

By Jessica BurkPublished 2 years ago 8 min read
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Hydra (Original Art Work by the author)

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

Ever since the witches of the Great Ivy Forest had been forced to make their presence known, there were dragons. The name, Great Ivy forest, was deceiving, at least to anyone who had been banished there. For the witches there was nothing "Great" about it, in exception for it's span.

After the war, between the Valley's that boarded each side, all but completely destroyed the forest, the witches and their dragons were forced out and forced to treaty up to stay on land that was rightfully theirs to begin with.

The Gif Witches as they were called, were out of the ordinary. They didn't raise black cats and ride broom sticks. They groomed great lizards that breathed fire, grew ginormous and flew with extraordinary grace through the night skies. The Witches had somehow managed to keep them hidden among the trees in the Great Forest.

It had been almost a year since they had come to live in the Valley and yet the sight of them still amazed even the most weathered of eyes. One of the eldest of the elves ,Pior, stood atop the highest tower of his stone castle. His jet black, waist length hair blew in the cold wind, as he stood in front of an open window, revealing a single patch of striking dark green hair right above his left eye. He turned as he heard the heavy wooden door behind him slide open.

He smiled, "Welcome my brother!" He stretched his right arm out reaching for the much younger elf that stepped through the door. "Praise the Elders it is great to see you!"

The younger elf grabbed Pior's hand and then pulled him into an embrace, "My brother, my King." he let go and bowed low, "It is truly my greatest pleasure to be graced with your presence."

"Ahh rise my brother! This formality is no longer needed. Shall you not soon be King?!" Pior reached to pull his brother upright. "No never mind to that, come, come...they are about to put on the grandest show you have ever seen." Pior gathered his long heavy dark purple and black robes and walked quickly over towards the large open window from which he had come. His brother, puzzled look on his face, followed him.

"What are we looking for in the skies my brother, are the Fire Lovies migrating this time of year, a bit late for them is it not?"

The Fire Lovies were a bird/butterfly creature that glowed iridescent colors as they flew in the night. The migration was always a spectacular site, as the entire sky was filled with them so much so it seemed daylight had come.

"Fire Lov...well I should say not, yes it is late in the season for them," Pior cleared his throat, "the poor little dainty things they would freeze to death in this cold. No, no Katur, I speak of the great lizards! Surely you have not had your head buried so deep, these past 200 years, in those scrolls so that you have not heard, the Gif Witches and their dragons are now here in the valley?!" he looked sharply at his brother.

"I have indeed heard, I did not believe it to be true." Katur turned and faced Pior, "How did this happen? How have those dreadful Gif Witches come to live here among our people and in your land?"

Pior's face softened, "My dearest brother, have you still malice in your heart for the witches? They have come to our aid as we have come to theirs. This Valley is as much their home as ours, perhaps even more so."

"How can you utter those words? Perhaps it could not come sooner that you are to relinquish this kingdom to me. The witches and their dragons should have perished in that war, just as foretold had it not been for you and your...your benevolent heart, brother." Katur turned towards the open window again.

Pior walked away from the window and turned to face Katur, "This valley is called Putakor Valley. It was named after our father almost 6,000 years ago, when he ruled. Katur do you know what the name Putakor stands for?"

Katur continued to peer out into the pitch black night sky.

"It means, gracious, decent and fair. Our father was all of those things and more. He ruled this land with a firm but fair hand. When he discovered this land was stolen from the ancestors of the witches and they were forced into the Great Ivy Forest with nothing, he vowed to make things right," Pior struck the staff in his hand hard on the stone floor. "It has taken many years and many wars but we have reached an agreement with the witches that was not entered into lightly and we have upheld that treaty and you..... you will too my dearest brother."

Katur looked at his brother, he bowed low as Pior's left eye glowed eerily the same color green as the patch of hair hanging over it.

"Besides," Pior slyly smiled, "the Gif Witches of new, I think my dear brother, you will find a lot more pleasing than the old, particularly on the eye." Pior winked at his brother as Katur stood facing him.

Suddenly there was a great whoosh of wind, so much so they were both almost blown off their feet. Steadying themselves they both held onto the stone window and glanced up into the starless night sky.

The once motionless sky was filled with seemingly, shooting stars, moving in all directions at once, just as fast as they went up they fell back to earth, and then back up again. The colors were blazing reds, blues, purple, greens and orange.

Katur looked at Pior in shock. Pior kept his eyes on the sky, a slight smile on his face.

Pior pointed over to the left, Katur turned, "Look you see, the Harrash Moon." There was a huge, perfectly round moon rising. It was pale and all the colors the two elves had just seen in the night sky swirled around in it, as if someone were mixing it with a great spoon.

Katur's mouth fell open, "It is a legend...it is not real. The, the Harrash Moon...no one...no one..."

Pior smiled, "Yes brother it is very real. No one has seen the Harrash Moon since the witches and the dragons were banished into the forest. The moon only rises at the summoning of the dragons. And the dragons can only summon the moon when they are....home."

The brothers watched the dragons perform their dance until the last one silhouetted against the now lit sky, breathed fire that encircled the entire moon, wrapped its massive wings around itself and gracefully spiraled back down to earth, to be hidden in the many rolls of hills and smaller valley's within the great one.

Katur stood still his piercing blue eyes still staring upwards at the Harrash Moon as each rich color continued to dance and entangle itself around the other. Pior turned and begin to walk towards the door, "Come brother, we have much to plan! You have finally returned and in a dozen turns of the sun you shall be King."

Katur slowly moved his gaze away from the moon. He turned and followed his brother out the door.

Down in the Valley in the Hills of Tranth, the dragons roamed about snarling and teasing one another with licks of random fire upside each others backsides. Two women stood in the shadows laughing quietly to themselves. The shorter older of the two spoke.

"Ahhh it does this old maid good to see the youthfulness of even the older ones come forth. I do not like living in the shadows of that great elf castle," she cast her eyes towards the giant dark, looming structure in the distance, ",but I am no fool. I will do what is best for this Coven even if it makes me ill to do so."

The taller younger woman speaks, "I do not agree with this treaty, we should be the rulers of this kingdom, this Valley, and all the hills beneath it, belonged to our ancestors, and they dare to 'allow' us to dwell here as if it belongs to them rightfully!"

The older woman places her gnarled hand on the shoulder of the taller woman, "Amara, we shall have what is ours again. There is always a plan. In the mean time we shall enjoy being away from that dreadful forest. We shall enjoy the freedom this has afforded the dragons."

Amara nodded in agreement, "Yes Minerva, you speak truth, this farce will not continue long. Not while there is breathe in these breasts and blood in these veins." The dark cloudless sky above begin to quickly fill with enormous clouds darker than the night itself, they begin to encircle the Harrash Moon. As a crack of lightening split open the sky Minerva again placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"Even as it has only been a short while that we have dwelt here, your powers have grown beyond what we believed possible. Calm yourself Amara. Let there be rain nothing more." the older woman smiled slyly, "Being home has brought forth more than just an abundance of food, and we shall show everyone in due time, but that time is not now."

As Minerva spoke the enormous dark clouds begin to slowly recede, and a steady rain begin to fall. The two women turned and went inside the small wooden house behind them. The dragons begin to roll and frolic in the mud that had quickly formed in the dirt.

Amara lifted her right hand and twisted her fingers in the air, the clouds that remained came together in a cylinder shape. Amara thrust her fingers apart, the clouds dissipated.

"Yes, our time shall quickly come. The dragons will no longer be a stranger to the Valley, their home, where they belong."

Fantasy
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About the Creator

Jessica Burk

Writing is my way of getting the movies that play in my head out into real life. I welcome any and all critique! I am an Alabama native. Mother of two wonderful boys and one fur baby girl! I love to draw, paint, sew and travel!

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