The Dragon-Kin

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. The legends tell that the ancient people worshipped them long ago, before they left Taleria to return to their home atop mount Rumuthu. A mountain said to stand so tall that the clouds rumble in envy as it’s peak breaches through the very edge of our skies. And this is why it is said that that the universe can hide no secret from a dragon’s gaze, for their eyes have witnessed the true light of our stars. After the millennia, however, most now took these tales to be nothing more than bedtime stories told to children. That was until now. It was one week passed since the people of Taleria paused in awe, as the sun cowered behind mighty dragon wings. Like mountains upon their back, their wings reached out across the visible sky, and the winds clapped like thunder with every powerful thrust. Like a veil of the opaquest black they cloaked the land, leaving no features visible to the astonished viewers excepted the monstrous scale of wing and claw. Indeed, the houses shook, and the seas smashed as they made their descent into the great valley. The people of Taleria have since been far too frightened to dare approach within leagues of this place. And the dragons have not once been seen again since entering the deep rift, covered by the walls of the surrounding cliffs. But what the people of Taleria do not know, is that this was not their first arrival.

In a small wooden house beyond the last streets of the town and near the outskirts of the valley, slept a young man. He tossed and turned as he struggled atop the bed. Sweat beaded until his clothes became soaked. The boy was petrified, for within his convulsing mind he dreamt of the day he encountered the terrific beast. The boy was sitting behind a thick shrub. With his bow drawn he rested his outstretched arm on top of the sturdy branches; he waited for what lay beyond the curve of the cliff. He had been waiting for what seemed like hours since he had heard a deep and tremendous wail. The wail continued for much time, until eventually dying down into a low whimper. As the sound began to soften lower than what the boy could hear, he finally stood from behind the shrub and slowly crept towards the cliff. He placed his back upon its wall and began side stepping toward the unknown beast. As he closed the bend, he readied his bow and finally jumped around in front, approaching the creature face-to-face. His tired arms trembled under the weight of terror, for his arrow pointed directly at the man-sized eye of an emerald dragon. The boy’s eyes became locked with that of the incredible being, hypnotized by the unfathomable power that drew upon his consciousness; the boy collapsed to his knees. His eyes began to burn, and tears of blood rushed down his fair cheeks, he clutched at his body, feeling his insides tear and rip with the strength of a thousand blades. He tore at his clothes and ripped off his tunic to expose his flattened belly, but to his shock there was not a scratch to be seen. His voice curdled and cracked as his belly began to stretch with protruding claws lashing from the inside. He pleaded for the limp beast to ease his torture, but received no response, only a blank and enchanting stare. The boy reached his trembling hands toward the dragon, begging for relief. The rough earth tore his fingernails from his flesh as he pulled himself toward the dragon, which now appeared as a green blur, receding into an overwhelming darkness. The boy opened his mouth to scream but the very air was sucked from his lungs, his throat burned with the sensation of a roaring flame and the very integrity of his form felt as if it were crumbling under the immense pressure of the air that surrounded him. The boy heaved in dire necessity to release a most gruesome howl, amounting in only a treacherous exhale of his will, he felt his lungs squeeze and his throat crush, until his eyes fell shut under the shadow of looming death.

“Stop it! Please Stop!” the screech filled the small wooden room. The boy gasped for air as he felt about his body to assure himself that he was indeed still living. He felt everything and relaxed his tense chest. He shuddered as the cool air enveloped his damp body. Wrapping the blankets around him, he shifted his body so that his legs hung over the side of his bed. It took him many moments to collect himself before he was able to make his way to the bucket of water in the corner. He gasped at his reflection, however, for his pale white face was painted red with the trails of dried-up tears. His dirty-blonde hair was torn affray, as if someone had been grasping at it in his sleep. He ran his finger along his naked face, scratching off clumps of blood. But his disbelief was cut short when, through the boards of his shaky door, he saw someone pass by. “Relin, are you up yet?” his mother called from the common room. Relin quickly splashed his face with water, making sure to rub his cheeks well. “Relin! Your father is waiting for you in the workshop, so hurry”. He swung the door open with a load smack, “Yes, Mother. I am coming now” he shouted while stumbling and struggling to get on his shirt. Relin stepped into the common room where he saw his mother preparing bread and butter for him. She was a short woman but had a broad frame about her. She had wide birthing hips and a curvaceous figure. She was an ideal wife and had many suitors before settling on Relin’s father, Rolin. She was dressed in an oversized grey dress which flowed down below her knees until about halfway down her shin, though a heavily stained apron covered much of her front. She watched patiently as Relin fell into one of their small wooden chairs, it creaked and nearly cracked under his weight. “You and your father better fix these chairs or soon we’ll all be eating on the floor” she said with a sigh, placing a piece of bread before him. She stood before the window in a way that the light stained her blond hair with a white glow, refracting into a halo suspended above her head. Relin squinted his eyes and looked up at her with a slight smirk, “Stress not, Mother, I’ll demand father that the chairs be fixed today”. “You’ll demand nothing of your father” she tried to say sternly but could not help a small chuckle from arising. With her hands on her wide hips, she pressed Relin, “All you need to worry about is getting out to your father in the workshop, before he becomes impatient”. With that Relin bounced to his feet, popping the slice of bread into his mouth he gave his mother a hug and made his way out.

As he stepped outside, he stopped for a moment to watch the sun crawl over the treetops, then hastily walked across the field in yearning of the warm rays stretched out before him. His father’s workshop was directly parallel from their home on the other side of the field, which was about half a league across. As he neared the building, he could hear that his father was already to work, the loud bashes of metal-on-metal resonated throughout the open air; each clank appearing to dance along the morning fog and bounce into the surrounding woods. The sound of hammer and anvil was engrained within Relin’s very being, and now it had become a conditioned stimulus of sorts; a remembrance of days spent in his father’s shop as a child. His father was a blacksmith, and in times past was the most revered smith not only in their small province of Grimshil but in all Taleria. He was once the sole supplier of the 5th line, the most elite sector of Taleria’s standing army, and the nobles from across the state would stand for none other than the master quality of Rolin’s smithy. However, this was many years ago, while Taleria was still perceived as a militant and cultural exemplar, when the royal family of Hausch still governed the state. It was with the heirless death of Frendis II and Hilini Hausch that Taleria encountered unforeseeable economic turmoil. With an empty throne and stomachs, the people of Taleria became desperate for a salvation, which is how Crelish Stormhart and his family were able to easily snatch the seat of power. Being the owner of nearly all mineral deposits within Taleria’s borders, Crelish was the only man who remained with a remarkable amount of wealth, which acted as an exceptional tool of persuasion amongst the state council. Although Crelish was able to secure his authority within the state and sustain a reasonable degree of trade, the other nations felt that his rule was unjust and therefore was not worthy of the same privileges that the Hausch family had solidified. Now the people of Taleria could rarely afford the luxuries of master metal working, and the army had been disbanded; diminished down to nothing more than a royal guard that can only be referred to as a disgraceful and frail mockery of its former glory. The only people who could now afford fancy swords and plates of steel were the Stormhart’s and those close to them. And for these works Crelish relinquished Rolin’s contract with the royal house and instead struck a favourable deal with a wealthy smithing family in the neighboring and allied state of Corlonia. Rolin’s shop, which was once a bustling smith with many employees, was now relocated to the re-purposed barn on their land, and the master smith now spent his days hammering out horseshoes and building supplies for those in town.

Relin approached the shop, the large barn doors were already wide open. He perched himself on the door frame with his arms crossed and watch his father bent over the anvil. Rolin spun around as he heard his son approaching. Sweat dripped a thick layer of black soot from his brow along his whole face, creating a mask that made it impossible to see his rosy cheeks. Even his deep-reddish hair was coated black. His exposed arms, which were chiselled from decades of hammer swinging, were the only inclination of his pale skin tone. He walked toward his son, brushing his dirty hands on his dark browns smiths’ apron before clapping them on his son’s shoulders. Relin flinched as the rock-like hands viced his boney shoulders. “Dragons my boy!” his father shouted, “Can you believe it?”. Each day for the past week, much like all the other residents of Taleria, all Rolin could speak of was the arrival of the dragons. He now placed his hands on Relin’s face, the calices tickling his cheeks, “You didn’t mention them to you mother did you, boy?” He brushed his father’s hands from his face, “No, we barely spoke before I came out. She just said we needed to fix the chairs.” Rolin bellowed in laughter, “Good, you know how this whole dragon business has terrified her. I’m starting the think she’d like us to board up our old farm and shut out the rest of the world.” Relin began to cross the workshop and responded in a low tone “It appears that the two of you have already done so.”. His Father tossed Relin a smith’s apron and sternly stated, “Boy, I thought I told you, if you’ve something to say don’t be mumbling it.”. “Well,” Relin started. “I just mean the both of you don’t really leave the farm as is. Mother spends the days inside or on the porch knitting, and you busy yourself all hours either in the workshop or tending to the crops. You rarely even speak to anyone from town anymore.”. A solemn glaze overcame his father’s eyes, “Son, we get news enough from town and it is seldom good. Aside from all the talk of dragons that has caused such commotion we hear of the grain shortages and the dwindling population of elk in our woods, there have even been talks of war in our neighbouring territories. So do not think that we are ignorant to the world around us, boy, it is just that your mother’s heart can only so much stress.”. Relin’s shoulders shrunk under the awkwardness of his father’s response, “I know. I am sorry, father.”. “Don’t be sorry” he replied quickly “throw your apron on and help me finish these nails that you’re going to deliver to Mr. Craver. And let us talk of something more exciting, like these magnificent beasts that have blessed us with their presence.”.

Relin and his father worked for the next few hours crafting nails and hinges that were to be delivered to Mr. Craver’s tavern. When they finished the wares were wrapped and packed on to one of their horses for Relin to deliver. “Don’t tarry too long in town” his father said to him before he departed, “I want you home well before nightfall. If we don’t get those chairs fixed, I am sure we will both go hungry tonight.”. Relin let out a laugh as he settled on the horse, “Don’t worry father, I must go hunting tomorrow morning anyways.”.

The trail to town lead south for many miles, away from the great valley, which was located at the northeast border of Taleria, along the coast. The trail then turned west, leaving the woods, and cutting across an area known as The Plains of Shattered Hearts, for it was once the site of the most abundant mineral deposits known to the world. Veins of silver and gold scattered the land, and many precious gemstones like diamond, emerald, and sapphire were found here too. These deposits were the asset which allowed Taleria to flourish, yet these veins were depleted long ago. Very few lucrative mines exist today, all located the southern provinces. And now what was once a marvel of human engineering, which brought wealth and progress to the nation, was nothing more than a barren stretch of jagged stone. As Relin’s horse trotted along the rubble covered trail, he felt that with each crackling step he treaded upon the broken dreams of those long departed. He looked out upon the barren fields and felt a sudden dampness within; his soul felt heavy. His eyes began to strain as he scoured the landscape for anything that may exist beyond the tarnished fields of rock, but there was nothing that could be seen. Relin then attempted to focus his eyes forward, for during daylight the immense presence of nothingness was nearly too much for the mind to bear; to witness the fragility of all things, even those most grandiose and formidable, was a horrendously humbling sensation. Each time his gaze slipped, the abandoned caverns to the south appeared to stalk him. His stomach curdled as he passed by and the mouths of hungry stone released a foul belch, impregnating the air with the stench of sulfur. Relin always wished to hurry through this part of the trip, but it was unsafe for one to hasten down this trail. For the trail was now seldom used by any other than Relin’s family and a few other small families which lived outside of the town; if Relin or his horse were to be injured they may become nothing more than another putrid statue that paints the horizon before they were found. Relin rode in deafening silence through such tyrannic tranquility of the westward trail for an hour before finally taking the northward bend toward town.

By the time Relin strode through the town gates it had been two and a half hours before he departed their family farm. The town was quite large for a province as small as Grimshil, and it shared the same name. It was one of the most well-developed urban centres in the territory, only surpassed by tralini which was located in the neighbouring province to the west and housed one of the most renowned universities across all of the known lands, as well as the royal city of Rumtheron which is where most of the nations budget was funneled. Once Relin was within the city limits he dismounted his horse, walking to the stables located on the east side of the gate. Relin adored all the little things that he experienced during his short time in town. Walking on the paved roads was always such an exhilarating sensation for him, and he enjoyed the busyness of the streets; stopping to talk to any familiar face. This was Relin’s only real source of news, which is why he loved to listen to the people tell their stories. Relin would regularly sit and speak with some of the street beggars, sharing pieces of bread as they dazzled him with tales of struggle and adventure. Relin would walk the streets of town for as long as the daylight would allow, examining the architecture of the oldest buildings. When one was diligent enough, they could still find certain aspects which were once part of the ancient settlement that the town was built upon, such as short walls made of stacked stone, stoic statues of dragons scattered on the odd street corner, or even the carving of dragon faces on certain rooftops. However, Relin’s favorite part of visiting town was that he always got to see his friends, Emile and Jenile, the children of Mr. Craver.

Today, however, Relin could not indulge in such pleasantries. The streets were oddly quiet, and many of the shops were closed from the public. Relin attempted to stop and speak with the few people who passed him, but each of them rushed by, exclaiming that he should go home; that the dragons have come as a harbinger of cataclysm for abandoning the ancient religion. Relin hurried to the tavern and was left in dismay to see the establishment empty upon his arrival. “Relin!” Jemile gasped as she ran to hug him, “How are you?”. Relin laughed as they hugged, “I’m fine, Jemile, are you all okay? Where is Emile?”. As the words left Relin’s mouth Emile walked into the dinning area with Mr. Craver. Emile walked over and gave Relin a hug as well, “We haven’t seen you in over a week Relin! We were getting worried, after seeing the dragons and all, me and my dad were thinking we’d have to ride out and check on your family.” The three of them sat down at the nearest table, “Well, I appreciate the concern, but we have been just fine. My mum’s worried sick about this whole dragon ordeal though.”. “So is most of the town!” Emile quickly replied, “Talking about the end of our world and old legends about worshipping dragons to keep us safe. Madness if you ask me.” Relin let out an uneasy chuckle, all this gloomful talk reminded him of his recent nightmare, tying an anxious knot in his gut. “So why do you guys think they’ve come then, eh?” he blurted out. “Well,”, Emile hunched himself over the table as if he had a secret to tell “Our father says that if the dragons came here to punish our people, then they would have come over a thousand years ago. No, instead he thinks that if they’ve come here then its because there is something terrible going on where they’ve come from, on Mount Rumuthu, probably something much worse than mere humans no longer worshipping them.”. With a quick flick of her wrist Jemile smacked the back of her brother’s head, “Father also told us not to be spreading any rumors about this ordeal and causing panic amongst the town. For goodness’ sake, Emile, nobody even knows if that mountain even exists. And father said more than likely the dragons simply flew through here on their way somewhere else and used the valley as passage, nobody has ever mapped the entire valley and we have no clue where the dense northeast forest could.” Relin could not help but laugh at their bickering, which made Emile blush, “well,” he started off with attitude rolling from his tongue, “Until about a week ago everybody thought dragons were just a myth too, Jemile! And if they were just passing through, as you suggest then don’t you think it is odd that nobody has ever seen them pass by before?”.

Relin stared at them across from the table with a blank expression, their bickering now drowned out by his thoughts. He became preoccupied by examining the siblings’ features. Emile and Jemile were twins, and although they did look somewhat similar, they were incredibly different. Both had the same light brown skin tone, smooth and clear of any imperfections, and had thin nappy hair, which Jemile fashioned in tight braids that reached down her back, far past her shoulders, whereas Emile sported a compacted afro. Emile was much taller and slenderer than Jemile and was also much louder; he spoke on every topic and was never shy to share an opinion, even if that opinion was not his own. Jemile on the other hand spoke less, she thought about her remarks much more cautiously before releasing her words, ensuring that she was saying exactly what she meant. One thing that they both held in common however, was their demeanour, they were both respectful people, obedient to their father, but above all they were loyal; fearless to defend one another or the people that they care for.

The sensation of Jemile’s delicate fingers running around Relin’s wrist sucked him from his daydream and placed him back at the short wooden table, “Relin! Are you okay? You look lost.”. He shuffled in his chair and cleared his throat before responding, “ye-yes, yes I’m fine, I was just a bit caught up in my thoughts is all”. “Are you sure?”, she replied softly, “You look like you’ve gone pale.”. “Stop pestering him,” Emile chimed in, “of course he’s got a lot on his mind, we all do, even without these dragons arriving. Has your father said much to you about this potential war that is brewing?”. Relin’s eyes now sank, “Not much, just that tensions between Corlonia and Dremlaught have been worsening, that war seems almost inevitable.”. With a smack on the table Emile belched, “I hope not! If Corlonia goes to war, Taleria is obligated to aid them, and with no standing army the king would be forced to conscript all the able-bodied men.”. “How could they do such a thing?” Jemile added, “the conscription laws were written hundreds of years ago; it is an outdated expectation.”. “Unreasonable or not, the law is the law,” Relin stated softly, “Heck, maybe a war would be good for the economy,” he continued, “my father could finally get some meaningful work again.” Relin finished off with a smirk, attempting to lighten the weight of the statement he just made. The deep voice of Mr. Craver pounded across the room, “War is not a topic to be spoken about lightly, let alone joked about, Relin. Your father would not find such remarks amusing either.”. Relin now felt as is his chair had grown ten times in size, and he said in a shaky voice, “Yes, Mr. Craver, you are right. I apologize for my thoughtless tongue.”. “Do not apologize,” the large man responded, “but you must think carefully when speaking as if you were an adult. Now finish catching up you three. Relin, I am sure your father wants you home before dark and the two of you have work to do around the tavern.” Emile and Jemile both hid their grins, relishing in Relin’s embarrassment. He sunk his head down to the table, “Your father is right, I should be going soon. But…” he now paused for a moment, looking around to ensure that the tavern was still empty, and that Mr. Craver was preoccupied. “But what?” both the siblings exclaimed. “But” Relin now said in a whisper, “I had this weird dream about a dragon last night, more like a nightmare. And it just felt so real. its, its like we were connected, the dragon and I, and it was painful, and the pain felt so real that when I woke, I honestly thought that I had died. And now, well I don’t know, I just feel different, like the dream was real life and I awoke to a dream.”. The two siblings paused for a moment before Emile blurted out, “Don’t be foolish, Relin. This dragon business has everyone conjuring mad thoughts, but don’t act like a child and get hung up on a bad dream now.”. Relin began to blush before Jemile finally stepped in, “Stop that, Emile!” She snapped, “There is nothing childlike about examining one’s own dreams. You have no idea what they are! Dreams could be showing us things that our eyes are too scared to see.”. Relin smiled at Jemile’s response, he felt that she had a way of speaking that always reassured him in what he was saying. Relin went to continue, “But that’s not it…” he cut himself short “but… nevermind.” he finished. The chair squealed as Relin pushed himself away from the table, “I should get going. My father needs me back early today.”. They both looked up at him with an eye of concern but did not stop him. The three said their farewells and Relin made his way over to the bar. He approached the counter and laid the wares out before Mr. Craver, “Here you are Mr. Craver, sir. The nails and hinges you ordered.”. The large man made a grunting noise as he looked up at the boy, “Thank you, Relin. Here is the payment for your father, and before you leave take those three loaves of bread over there. Tell your father that the town bakery has closed up and nobody is quite sure when old man Rolo will open it again, I am not sure how much grain you’ve got put away.”. Relin thanked the man graciously and packed the bread into his sack before departing.

By the time Relin reached their farm it was nearing sunset. He could feel the atmosphere thicken as he entered the home; he knew his father would be aggravated with his late arrival. His mother and father were both seated at the table awaiting his arrival, “Dinner is ready son, getting cold in fact. Now sit.”. Relin sat down with as much caution as possible, but still the chair shrieked under his weight. He could feel his mother’s eyes scolding him, but he dared not look back, he simply kept his head down and quietly spoke, “I will make sure the chairs are fixed tomorrow, mother, I swear it.”. His mother gave no response other than an agitated sigh. “You’ve angered her, boy.” His father stated with half-enjoyment, “and a woman’s rage is nothing like that of a man’s, my boy. Much more dangerous it is. Lasts a heck of a lot longer, and creeps up on you unexpectedly.”. His fun was cut short, however, as the vicious glare of Relin’s mother now pointed toward Rolin. All went quiet for a moment, save the sound of chewing on tough beef. Until Relin’s father once again broke the silence, “You know boy, speaking of women,” Relin now straightened in his chair as the topic arose, “you are now seventeen, less of a boy and more of a man, if you see what I’m getting at.”. His mother now dropped her cutlery, “And what might that be, Rolin.” the words sprang from her mouth like a cobra. He took a moment to think of his next words carefully, “See, boy. By the age of nineteen I had already proposed your beautiful mother, Yasmine. And we already had plans for building our life toge…” he stopped himself now, as he could feel his wife’s anger beading off him like sweat. Relin pushed his food around on his plate, “Maybe we can have this discussion another time, father. Besides, you and mother need not worry about me.” “Yes,” his father lengthened the word, “another time, possibly.”. Relin finished his food promptly and cleaned his plate in the wash bucket, “I should get to sleep” he said to his parents, “I will see you both when I return from hunting tomorrow morning.” He then placed the money and bread form Mr. Craver on the counter and walked to his room.

Relin could not rest, however, even as he slept. Again, his body tensed and shook in his sleep, his nightmare had picked up just where it left off the night before. Although, this time the details of the dream had become even more vivid, the sensations all the more corporeal. This time Relin did not see the dream in first person perspective, but in the third person. Relin knew the boy that he hovered above was himself, but different. It was a younger version of Relin, from a few years ago possibly. He witnessed his body helplessly crawling across the rough earth toward the dragon, warm droplets of blood gushing from his eyes. From this perspective, Relin was granted a much more dynamic view of the mighty emerald beast. The dragon was gigantic, its face was only but a meter from that of Relin’s, but its body stretched all the way along the side of the cliff and the tail wrapping around another bend. In its entirety the dragon must have measured over twenty meters in length and was wider than the trunk of five trees. A portion of the dragon’s body was under sunlight, and the scales shimmered like a cloak of diamond, but the rest of the body was shadowed by the trees, exposing a matt gloss that would go undetected under the veil of darkness. There was no way to prove it, but Relin knew the dragon was a female. He tried to take control of the dream, he tried to interfere and speak to himself, but it was to no avail. He could feel the world around him shrinking, like he was being suffocated. His view was now planted, and he could no longer examine the fantasy as he pleased. The sound of a deathly shriek consumed his concentration and the land around him began to rock like a boat on water. He watched as the dragon’s eyes began to glow intensely, and her scales began to bend and shift, exposing a bright light underneath. He felt the most demonic heat build up within his body, so much that he wanted to tear off his own flesh and dose the flames. The light became brighter and brighter until the dragon was no longer visible, just a dome of light. The dome grew and grew until finally it enveloped his entire view, it was everywhere, it became everything.

Relin shot up from his bed in breathless distress. He rushed over the bucket in the corner to see if there was blood on his cheeks, but his investigation was cut short as he felt an unpleasant urge in his stomach. He rushed to the window and released an unworldly spew of vomit. After several moments Relin looked up toward the horizon, the sun had still not risen, but somehow, he could make out the definition of the great valley in the darkness. As quietly possible Relin readied his hunting gear and made his way toward the place that called out to him. By the time he reached the edge of the valley the first drops of sunlight were just coating the leaves. This was Relin’s most preferable time to hunt, for he could ready himself in a strategic position before the sun had even risen. But Relin had not hunted in the valley for many years, as the population of elk in this area had plummeted greatly. As Relin continued walking he could feel the ground beneath him begin to decline. The woods around him became much denser and an air of cautiousness came around him. With each step, Relin felt a slight bit of pressure working against him, as if he were walking through a barrier of sorts. Relin had now walked more than a league into the valley, but he still saw no sign of anything strange, nor anything normal, not even a hare. The sun was shinning bright above him, however, within the valley there was a gloomy darkness that created an evening glow. He continued to press deeper into the valley until finally, he heard a snap. His body froze, never in his life had he ever stood so still, even as his breath crawled form his lungs he made no sound. He stood there, determined to stay completely static until the unknow revealed itself. Moments passed like glaciers across stone, his joints locked, and muscles tensed, but still he refused to move. Then, with the force of one hundred hurricanes the trees before him were cracked and tossed aside. Relin was shook to the ground as the forest around him was plowed to the dirt. When his eyes opened, towering above his body like a mountain stood a copper-coloured dragon. Relin felt traumatized, his very soul felt locked in place. He began to scream in terror as the beast brought its face closer to his, but his fright was ceased, for within his mind he heard the dragon speak, “You are Olomo-Rumu, The Dragon-Kin. We have been waiting for you.”.