The Dragons Below

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Or so Seph had been told, though she couldn't imagine it were true. The actions of those who lived on the plateaus overlooking the Valley revolved daily around the beasts that thrived below. Night Guards patrolled the steep cliffs in four-hour shifts; buildings were built from mud and stone dug from a quarry six miles away; boys and girls alike, the ones who showed great strength or cleverness from a young age, were trained into adulthood to defend the tribe.

Seph would gladly have joined the ranks of Dragon Slayers, but her slight stature and deformed foot deemed her unsuitable for the rigors of training. Instead, she spent her days foraging for herbs that her three aunts could use in their apothecary. Everyone in the tribe had a specific and important job: Night Guard, Dragon Slayer, Healer, Cook, Arbiter, Trainer...the list went on. No one was exempt. If a person was born and grew to be too weak or unwell to contribute, a task was invented solely for the disabled person. If they were unable to acceptably complete that position...well, Seph didn't like to think about what would happen then. It brought up bad memories of a lost friend.

"Gatherer" was a job designated for the young or weak. In a few years, Seph would spend less time gathering and more time in the apothecary with her aunts, learning everything they knew about healing. On Seph's fifteenth birthday last month, the Cheif had declared that she was "well old enough to cease squandering her days in the Meadow and start aiding in the apothecary business." Without saying a word Seph had convinced him to give her at least another year. She had limped around the dim, smokey room and clumsily knocked over several vials as she tried to get a heavy jar of river stones from a high shelf. It was only an act and one Seph was just a little proud of, but it had worked. She was deemed still too weak to do other than comb the Meadow and Forest for herbs and berries and mushrooms.

Seph was careful to never journey too close to the edge of the Valley. All the children had been told the stories of young ones who, unwatched by their mothers, scampered a little too close and were swallowed up by eager dragons. Though Seph didn't believe the dragons were waiting just out of sight, clinging to the moss-covered, rocky walls of their domain mere feet from the top, she was wary of losing her footing and falling into the Valley or tempting an overly courageous dragon out of its hole and endangering the tribe.

She had never seen a living dragon, but the Dragon Slayers had paraded through the village often enough, dragging the wicked bodies of the beasts behind them, that those images were burned in her mind. Massive, tough-hided creatures with whip-like tails, and claws and teeth sharp enough to slice through a braided cord with the most whisper-soft touch. Their scales caught the sun and held its reflection like ensnared fire, their lidless eyes empty, black, and dead.

“Seph!” a strong voice called out.

Seph smiled, instantly recognizing to whom the voice belonged. She stuffed a handful of echinacea into her satchel and turned just in time to step out of the way of the six-foot-three boy who would have tackled her to the ground. Still, she wasn’t quick enough to avoid Aladar as he snagged her wrist, dragging Seph down onto his chest as he tumbled into the purple flowers. He wrapped his solid arms around her so she was unable to move or take full breaths.

“I would think that a Dragon Slayer would know how to be stealthy,” she quipped, blowing a blonde lock of hair out of Aladar’s eyes.

Aladar was handsome, there was no denying that. His bright blue eyes nearly shone from beneath his well-groomed river of hair. He kept his golden locks tied back when he went hunting for dragons, but when he sauntered more casually through the village, all the girls Seph’s age practically swooned as he passed by them. All Dragon Slayers were tall and strong, yet Aladar managed to stand out without even trying. There were times Seph envied him, but she’d never felt that telltale flutter in her stomach. Not for Aladar.

“I can be stealthy when I want to be.”

“Uh-huh. And dragons can fly when they want to.”

Aladar laughed, jostling Seph on his chest. Then, suddenly, the laughter stopped and the mirth in his eyes was replaced with awe. “Can you imagine? If dragons could fly… Our troubles would increase tenfold. Dragons below and above?” He shivered. “A true nightmare. How would we defend against dragons that could fly? It’s not like you can set up spiked pillars in the sky to effectively ward them off. We could build a protective cage around the village, but that’s just ugly.”

“Agreed,” Seph interrupted, “but dragons can’t fly as they don’t have wings so it’s not worth worrying about. Now would you let me go? You’re squashing all of my herbs.”

“Would you care to rephrase that request? Maybe sweeten it a little?”

Seph made sure to give an impressive eye roll before restating her request with false sincerity, “Would you please let me go, Aladar, handsomest and braves?.”

Aladar snorted but was grinning as he sat up and removed his arms from around Seph.

“I wasn’t finished.”

“Oh, please, do go on.” Aladar laced his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes, prepared to soak up all of her flattery and inflate his ego.

“Handsomest and bravest, far above all the other…” Seph paused for dramatic effect, “...women of the tribe.”

By the time Seph’s words had fully sunken in, she was on her feet and sprinting toward the woods as quickly as her crippled foot would take her, laughter making her footing clumsy.

“Wait a minute!” Aladar called, stumbling to get up as laughter boomed from his throat. He quickly overtook Seph with strong, long strides and once again wrapped her in his arms, swinging her around instead of pulling her to the ground this time. “That was rude.”

“You’re rude.” Seph stuck her tongue out for good measure. It had been a lame joke, so she felt that more childish behavior was suiting.

Aladar just chuckled. “Did I really crush all of your herbs? I’ll help you find more.”

“They’re just going to get ground up into teas and pastes anyway. But I won’t stop you from helping.”

Aladar had accompanied Seph as she gathered often enough to recognize a few berries and mushrooms that would be useful to her aunts, but the plants were harder to learn. To Aladar, they all looked the same except for the small, blood-red patches that grew no more than a few inches tall. These he recognized as they were used by all the Dragon Slayers. When bruised even slightly, the leaves released a sticky, deadly poison. The Dragon Slayers often rubbed handfuls of the leaves on their swords and spears, careful that their gloves had no holes before they began. On contact with skin, the poison burned and was difficult to wash away. Aladar had once seen a man carried into the apothecary with a hole inches deep in his arm from the poison that had eaten its way through. The wound smoked and the man was so in shock that he couldn’t move.

Two hours past noon, as the sun had descended enough that it fingered its way through the trees and the forest was cooling down with the promise of an early night, Seph and Aladar began retracing their steps back toward the village.

“What do you think of Natta?” Aladar asked, peeling a branch out of their path then releasing it to spring back into place.

Seph wrinkled her nose. “Natta? Really?”

“What?”

“She’s okay I suppose… Not who I thought you’d be interested in though.”

“I never said I was interested. Just asked what you thought.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, fine, just tell me what you think.”

Seph tapped her finger on her chin as though deep in thought. “She’s pretty, of course. But she’s…how do I put this kindly? Not worth your time. Shallow. Vapid,” Seph added in a stuffy accent.

“She is not. How would you know, anyway? You’ve hardly said five words to her.”

“It’s impossible to get five words into a conversation with Natta unless you’re complimenting her hair or a newly charred tattoo.”

Aladar sighed. “Forget I asked.”

“Gladly.” Seph let an awkward silence stretch out before glancing up at Aladar. “You know…my foot’s kind of hurting. Not kind of. It’s been aching for…at least a mile.”

“Mm, I’m sure it has.” Aladar shook his head, knowing this ploy well. “Let me guess. You want a free ride home.”

“Not free. I’ll pay you in flattery.”

Aladar snorted in a manner unfitting to the perfect and charming demeanor that he effortlessly put forth. “Come on, hop up.” He squatted so that Seph could climb onto his back then straightened and carried her down the rough trail.

“Oh, thank you, brave Aladar, best of Dragon Slayers, strongest of women and men, wisest–”

Seph would have continued pandering, but a shadow fell across the sun. Not a cloud, for it too quickly passed and Seph felt the sun’s rays on her back again.

“What was that?” she questioned.

Aladar had stopped walking and was peering into the treetops. “Seemed too big for a bird.”

“And too quick for a cloud. Let’s find it.”

“This is why you’re not a Dragon Slayer. You’re too unpredictable and curious. You’d be dead in an hour.”

“Please?” Seph put all of the sincerity and winsome charm that she could into that single word. And it worked. Aladar groaned in protest but veered off the trail in the direction the shadow had gone.

“If we die, it’s your fault.”

“You can torture me in the afterlife,” Seph conceded.

Silently, proving that he could indeed be stealthy even with an extra one-hundred-and-fifteen pounds on his back, Aladar stalked through the trees and undergrowth. His footfalls were perfectly planned to avoid rustling leaves or snapping twigs.

“There,” Seph whispered, her breath tickling Aladar’s ear. “I saw something move just to the right.”

Aladar adjusted his trajectory and walked even more slowly until a flash caught his eye. He stopped, sweeping the ground until his eyes landed on something unusual among the greenery.

An ashen lump, rhythmically expanding and contracting. Aladar chanced a step forward, leaning toward the mystery. In a lightning-fast movement, a head swiveled toward Aladar and Seph, a cold, black eye staring directly at them. Seph gasped then pressed her hand over her mouth, but the beast had already seen them. It lifted a heavy paw and moved in their direction, the rest of its body following with the grace of a fish gliding through a stream. Seph didn’t need Aladar to confirm what the creature was. She was seeing her first living, breathing dragon in person and her heart was pounding so feverishly that she was certain Aladar could feel it against his back. The dragon swung its tail through the crackling leaves and arched its back, revealing something impossible.

Rooted in its prominent shoulder blades were wings.