the dragon

There weren’t always dragons in the valley.

Then again, there weren’t always humans either. According to our earliest records of history, the original habitants of the valley were the giants that ruled over the stretch of land between the human and dwarven kingdoms.

Maybe there were dragons back then. Centuries ago, before the humans settled into the skulls and skeletons left behind. Giant, disfigured corpses that had not yet been swallowed into the Earth became the homes of the hermit-like people that found a safe haven in the carcasses of the extinct.

The valley is home to a great city of marble columns and cobblestone streets. It is called Phrixa, a city of progress and invention. It is filled with art, poetry, color, and now, dragons.

My brother used to tell me about them. The ones he saw on the battlefields in the middle realms. He told of monsters tearing through battalions of soldiers and the smoke that filled the skies. He had whispered of the horrors that had befallen soldiers in battle. How when they smelled burning flesh they knew they were going to die. Dragons killed mercilessly. Whether it was out of fear or entertainment, they were skillful in the ways of death.

The first dragon had been there when the sun rose one morning with its face bashed inward and its black wings shredded. The morning hunters had woken to find it in the square. No one had seen it crash or land. It was like it had appeared there. It was a massive, terrifying thing, the size of a merchant’s ship with great yellow eyes and jagged rows of teeth coated in venom. The city’s council after realizing the beast was dead turned it over to the people, who wasted no time stripping it of its skin, claws, and teeth. Dragon parts are rare, after all. It would be a waste to discard it in the Graveyard with the rest of Phrixa’s monsters.

The news of the dragon spread throughout Phrixa quickly, even reaching me in the slum of the city where most were too disgusted to touch. My brother warned as many as he could about the dragons and about what they could mean. None paid any attention to him. My brother was the Returned man who lived at the edge of the city. Paying him any mind would only result in one’s own madness, or so the children that played in the street claimed. A Returned man’s words would have no value above the nonsensical stories that entertained the youth. I knew it was strange though. Dragons never came close to this part of the realm. It was rare they even traveled to this realm. Still, I promised my brother that I would be cautious.

The second dragon appeared only two days later. This one was found closer to my home at the end of the river and it was even larger than the last. I assume it was larger. It was difficult to tell due to the fact that only half of the body was found. This dragon was bright yellow with scales like iron and unbreakable claws. However, its body seemed torn down the middle. Its spine and partial intestines hung from where it was draped across the bridge. Its eyes were carved out, leaving gruesome, bloody holes and its jaw was broken, separate from the rest of its skull. It was a disgusting sight. Blood and guts coated the forest floor. Bloody-broken trees indicated that the monster had crashed there. Or maybe had been thrown. The people of Phrixa seemed unfazed and stripped it for parts even quicker than the last one, selling their products at double the price of the last dragon.

I disliked it. It was disrespectful to the dead. I also found it unsettling. My friend, Lyndon, didn’t share my concerns. My path home took me through the square. Lyn saw me from where he stood on top of the fountain and left the other men to jog alongside me. The men cast glares my way. Their hatred for me was most of Lyn’s fault. A man as popular as him choosing an outcast like myself to spend time with rather than them came off to be insulting. That or it seemed that he pitied me. He was my one and only friend that I had made in my short years in the city.

“Look!” He thrust his hand out excitedly to show a sleek, obsidian-colored dagger. It was the length of my forearm. Brown leather wrapped around its handle. A matching dagger was strapped to Lyn’s boot. He also wore a sword on his belt, a quiver on his back, and a bow in hand.

“They’re made of the yellow one’s claws! They don’t break at all. I’ve done all I could and there’s not a scratch!”

Lyn, ever the weapons fanatic, was the son of a councilman. He could afford the entire dragon if he wanted it. I brushed my fingers over the blade and withdrew my hand. His smile faded slightly. He stopped walking. I halted beside him.

He frowned. “What is wrong?”

“I’m fine,” I told him hastily.

His frown deepened. I hesitated a moment. My voice cracked when I spoke.

“What do you think about the dragons?”

He blinked. “How do you mean?”

“You don’t think they’re ominous?” I rushed, looking away and beginning to walk forward again. If Lyn disagreed then I was worrying over nothing. He was different from the others in the city. He listened to me. More than that, he took me seriously, always considering what I ask no matter how light the subject. He thought for a moment and sighed.

“Well, of course, they’re ominous, Rey. My father isn’t worrying, which must mean we should be.” Lyn joked and jogged to move alongside me. He removed a leather glove, exposing scarred, pale flesh, and combed back black curls as a pair of farm girls walked past.

“I don’t have any strong feelings about them.” His eyes followed the girls for a moment before catching up to mine again. “Why do you ask? Do you think they mean something?”

“I think it means that something is killing dragons.” I swallowed. “Am I mad?”

He watched me carefully for a moment. Taking me in. Allowing my question a well-thought response before deciding.

“Never.”

He grabbed me and held my head tight to his chest. I scrambled out from under his arm. He laughed. Lyn continued to walk me to my home. A mile down the path, we turned down the steep of the forest. There was no official road to this part of Phrixa. The worn and beaten trail was made from only those who lived there, walking back and forth until a narrow path only a trained I could find was formed. The forest became thicker and greener. Columns hidden behind vines and shrubbery emerged. Columns melted to uninhabitable ruins, overcome with untamed wilderness, animals, and the occasional monster. The monsters here were never stronger than that of a goblin or two, yet Lyndyn insists that it is dangerous for me to go alone. He never forgets to remind me of when a gnome stole my satchel and I had to chase it back up the hill until he had caught it.

We passed the ruins and the small gap of wood before reaching the village I lived in. It was the village from which Phrixa had originated. It was small and hidden, even more so than from when it had been built. When the city grew, the place was left abandoned to house the poor and the mad. The common people of Phrixa referred to it as a slum. I felt as though it was much nicer than that.

There was a crowd gathered at the well when we arrived. Whispers rippled through the crowd. You could sense the uneasiness rolling off of them in waves. Two of the city guard had come down. This usually meant someone had tossed themselves in and surrendered to its depths.

I had left my brother unattended today. Fear struck through me like lightning. I shoved my way forward, pushing past even the guard to find my brother alive and at the front of the crowd. His eyes were wide beneath overgrown curls. He mumbled something unintelligible beneath his breath. There was blood on my brother’s hands.

I followed his gaze. Past the well, poking out from the shadows of the forest, was a shining red tail.

“Are you hurt?” I asked worriedly.

Keyne took a second to look at me. He blinked slowly as if breaking from a trance.

“Dragon’s blood.” He warned.

I looked back to the bloody carcass in the wood. The silhouette of its head seemed larger than the two dragons found prior. I took a step forward. All at once, it felt as though everything had stopped. I started toward the dragon. My steps were agonizingly slow as if I was wading through mud. I held my breath. Keyne’s stories of dragons excited me. I never wished to have seen one. Never wished to encounter the greatness of a dragon. Something drew me toward it. A morbid fascination of a dragon’s body. How this one might have died. The sun burned against my neck and cheeks. My heart hammered. I held my breath. Now I could not tell if it was fascination or fear. I didn’t know if I knew the difference.

The dragon was not red as I had thought before. It was green. Blood had painted its scales crimson. I circled the dragon’s length, carefully climbing over broken and mangled wings. Blade-like thorns stuck out from its back, lining the bones of its spine and tail, which had been twisted, causing the dragon to resemble a terrifying sort of boulder rather than a monster. The dragon’s flesh was covered in slashes and deep cuts from which you could see its bone and when I finally reached the head of the dragon, I found most of its blood had come from its mouth. The dragon’s mouth laid agape. Its tongue was severed. Missing. I felt bile rise in my throat. Leaves crunched behind me. I turned to see Lyn a few yards away. He brought his fist to his mouth and retched. He took a step back.

“Get away from it, Rey, leave it to the guard,” he called.

I turned back to the dragon. I looked at its wide gaping mouth and disfigured body. The overwhelming stench of blood and rot. Even disgusting I found it magnificent. A beast unlike any other. Beautiful as it was terrifying. Keyne had told me of monstrous beasts capable of only bloodlust. Yet, the only thing I felt for the creature was pity. How could something be strong enough to do this? To kill a dragon?

A sudden cold wind swept through the trees. The skies began to darken. I swallowed. Lyn was right. I would need to take Keyne up to the main square. It isn’t a good idea to keep him close to this much death. I turned back and we began to walk. Another brush of wind snapped at our clothes. Twigs snapped behind us. I knit my eyebrows and turned once more. A stronger, faster wind pushed through. The sky rumbled.

“What is–?” Lyn stumbled back.

“Wait!” I hissed. My eyes landed on the dragon. That great, green dragon that showed no real sign of death. I wondered how much blood would a dragon have to lose before it died. How a storm could roll in so quickly when it was so bright only moments before. There was a buzz in the air. It brushed against my skin. The hair on the back of my neck began to rise.

“Rey,” Lyn said shakily. “Let’s go.”

A loud crack and a boom shook the forest as lightning struck through the trees. Shrieks sounded from the crowd we’d left in the clearing. The forest became pitch and Lyndon grabbed my hand.

“Run!”

The dragon’s eyes snapped open.