The Dragon Wars

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Though it was all I’d ever known, there were those who remembered. I’d grown up hearing tales of a time when men and dragons existed in peace. Our region thrived in those days with beautiful, thick forests and crystal lakes. None of that existed now.

Dragons are as ancient as the mountains they dwelled in and as wise as they are mystical. They are as fierce and strong as they are just. No mortal had ever dared to cross them. That was until Lucian.

Lucian was the most brutal of the King’s men. Everyone in the village feared him. He towered over the villagers & had scars covering his body. He wore them as badges of honor and frequently told stories in the tavern of how he gained each one. And although he was the highest ranking general, he hungered for more. He wanted to be king. One day, his desire grew so strong that he devised a plan with a handful of other soldiers to overthrow the King and take his place.

In the dead of a summer night, Lucian and his followers left their posts and trekked up to the cave where the Elder Dragons slept and murdered Draakar, the oldest dragon in all the regions and leader of the Fire clan. His plan was to blame the King for ordering the attack and the dragons would take their revenge on him, leaving the throne empty. Little did he know the dragons would not only have their revenge on the king, but so much more.

Isidrial’s actions were swift and brutal, raining down on the valley in a tornado of fire and ice. She was the only ice dragon in the region but was Draakar’s mate, making her all the more dangerous, and as the new leader of a clan who were not her kin, she needed to prove to the other dragons that she would not rest until Draakar was avenged. And rest she did not.

The dragons decimated everything. They scorched the forests and crops. They slaughtered the livestock. The villagers who dared to fight back were not spared. They took the King and beat the people back into submission. The life our little village once knew was gone.

Isidrial kept her fiercest warriors in the valley to ensure there were no uprisings. They patrolled the village night and day and reported everything back to Isidrial. She, to her credit, did allow for us to appoint Prince Alaric to king once he was of age.

It’s been decades since then. Our crops have grown back and our livestock has grown in number. Our forests, on the other hand, never grew back. In their place we’re charred and toppled trees leaving the land baron and the lakes muddy with ash. The dragons have loosened their grip in recent years but Isidrial keeps the former king locked up. His son, only allowed to see him once a year. No one knows what became of Lucian. Some say he is locked up with the king. Others say Isidrial killed him on the spot after his attack. It hardly matters now as my father has taken his position as General.

King Alaric has been slowly reassembling an army over the last several years. Training his soldiers only within the confines of his palace as to not draw the suspicions of Arenthor, Isidrials most formidable warrior and right hand. I ask my father what they train for but all he does is grumble something barely audible and walk away. I used to think he wouldn’t say anything for fear of being discovered and provoking Isidrial’s wrath. We were all about to discover how wrong I was.