The Curse of the Covenant

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Now there are four. Rychek, Chandray, Roshan, and Gorgile. They used to be elves. Normal nature loving elves. Happy and playful, frolicking in the woods. I didn’t know three of them, but Chandray, she was my mother. Mother of four. She loved butterflies and rabbits. She sang like an angel and was learning to play the harp.

But times have changed. The villages have been destroyed. Most of the forest has been burned. My siblings are dead. The words of the elven tercáno still echo in my brain, “You will eat your own children.”

My uncle says it is the fault of the elders. They broke a covenant our ancestors made. I don’t know anything about it. All I know is that my mother killed most everyone I know, and I must find a way to stop her. But how?

They say the great mages could subdue them with a single word, but there are no mages left. They were cast out. Magic has long since been forbidden. Swords are useless. Arrows are too weak. A strong spear might be able to work, but you must get so close to the dragon… No, I need to find a mage, but to do that I need to cross the valley.

So here I am. In a ditch, at the edge of the valley. I have a small leather bag with some basic provisions. Andara gave me two apples and half loaf of bread. Beryl gave me a small bottle of medicine to fight infections. Some of the other survivors made a sleeping roll and a pillow for me. And my uncle, Jorial, gave me a knife, a bow, sixteen arrows and four small gems that I might be able to trade in the lands beyond the valley. Not exactly the kind of gear you want to fight dragons with, but it was all the community could afford to send with me.

For now the first part of the journey lies before me. A seven and half mile wide valley, filled with burning trees, craters, a dried up river, and four large dragons. Jorial told me to wait until the sun is halfway behind the mountain. The dragons tend to be on the west side of the mountain soaking up the last of the daylight, so I would have about forty minutes to get to the old water mill which has a cellar I can hide in and catch my breath.

From here I can see the mill. Humans taught us how to build it when they brought their grain to us to trade for fruit and river gems. We built it, but it caused problems with the fish. Within a year it had been mostly dismantled. The main structure still stood until Gorgile spit acid on it. Now, only half of the western wall remains. That will be my only cover until I find the cellar entrance.

And now, I wait. Watching the sun, watching the sky. The dragons seem to have exceptionally good vision, both in the day and at night. Adara thinks they see heat at night. No way to be sure though. But in dire situation maybe I can test it. For now, I just need to run. That is why I was chosen. Jorial says I am the fastest elf left in the land. I am the only one fast enough. If I fail…No, I can’t think of that. I must focus on the positives. I can do it. “Just one step at a time, Mirka,” Jorial said, “and never look back.”

The sun is beginning to set beyond the mountain. My bag is secure on my shoulders, and my bow is fastened to it. The sky is clear except for the smoke from the burning forests. My path is set. One last look toward my uncle who is standing on his remaining leg, watching, hoping, and praying to the gods. I look again to the sky. It is still clear. I look to the sun. It is time. Go!