The Endless Night

There weren't always dragons in the Valley of Arben, at one time the fields and forests that peppered the hillside had been places of quietude and stillness.

It was the height of summer, and a warm breeze skittered along the dust path, curling its way over pebbles, squeezing through the cracks in a dried-up briar and brushing the back of an unbothered old fox until it reached the top of the birch tree and caused its topmost leaves to shiver themselves free. They drifted lazily down through the clearing towards the dirt, where one particularly brave leaf made its way atop the head of a silver-haired boy named Rennon Brook. He started suddenly at the unwelcome intrusion of the birch leaf and batted at his head absentmindedly, realising he had, in fact, been staring at the ground in front of him for a solid, unblinking minute.

“Ren! Are you listening to me?” The voice was coarse but well-intended.

“Wah.. yeah Pa, of course. Sorry... Just thinking…” The boy rubbed his eyes and focused on the man in front of him, who was crouched among the dirt, a dark metal knife in one hand, and a bunch of strange brown plants in the other. He didn’t look old, but the cracks on his skin and the tan lines on his arms told you he had lived and worked enough for a man twice his age.

“You do too much dreaming lad… listen to what I’m telling you instead.”

Rennon knelt down before his father and focused his eyes on the gnarled roots in his hand.

“As I was saying… this clearing here is perfect for Knotwort, it’s a bit tricky to find, but it can mend a broken bone in half the usual time if it’s brewed correctly.”

Rennon nodded, making an extra effort to look interested, but his mind was prone to wandering, and even more so that day. His father sighed and nestled the root into a small leather pouch tied around his waist.

“That’ll do for today, let’s get back for supper.”

Rennon’s ears perked up at the thought of a warm meal, he got to his feet with a little more haste than usual, and they began their walk back through the woodland.

The familiar call of the midday thrush was starting to fade, meaning the end of the day was almost upon them. It wasn’t safe to be in the woods at night, not since the dragons had returned from the south. Rennon’s father had told him about the darkness that had brought them into the continent, magick folk had dabbled in dark arts and their delving had brought fell beasts out from the strange places at the edge of the map.

No good ever came from sorcerers, they’d since been eradicated from the continent, anyone showing a trace of magick would be dealt with swiftly, it did no good to mess with the darkness, everyone knew that. It was an hour’s walk back to Arben and they muddled the time away together. There was no distinct path in the woods, but Rennon’s father had taught him how to look for signs that someone had passed through from an early age. They followed the same route back, his father stopping him occasionally to remark upon an unnatural movement in the rust-brown dirt, a crumpled leaf or a bent branch, signs that they had come this way previously.

The noise of the forest was difficult for some to take, but for Rennon it was the most interesting place in the world. If he focused his mind on the busy hum, he could hear all manner of different bird calls, insects scurrying back and forth, the footsteps of a mouse taking food back to her babies, and you could see more plants and trees than even Rennon’s father could name. You could often hear the faint howl of a wolf if you listened carefully enough, though they kept away from the outskirts of the woodland. Ever since the dragons had returned, even the wolves kept to themselves.

The forest ended abruptly and they came to a meadow, its straw-like yellow grass struggling under the heat of the midsummer sun. They climbed over a broken-down wall, leading them back into Arben. A small village in the East of the continent of Lazon, it was a place where not much ever happened, and everyone knew everyone’s business. The midday thrush had fallen silent now, and the usual hum of the village was replaced with a gentle silence as they made their way to the house. It was a modest house, but then again, everything in Arben was modest. Brown clay bricks and mortar held the building together in a lopsided manner. Rennon hadn’t even turned the latch fully when the door flung open, and a woman pulled him into her arms.

“Rennon! Ulef!” She gasped, her long grey hair cascading around the boy’s body. “It was getting late and there are whisperings of dragons on the border. I was worried!”

His father pulled her close, “Mother, you worry too much!”

He reached into the pouch that was tied around his waist, “I have something for you, it was as much as I could find.”

He pulled out an assortment of plants they had gathered that day, one was pale green and curled up at a touch, another was inky blue and covered in tiny thorns, then there were purple flowers that seemed to blush pink in some lighting, and finally the brown root, the Knotwort he had most recently gathered.

The old woman’s eyes lit up, “This is perfect, thank you.”

Rennon and his father pulled up a wonky stool and perched themselves around the old oak table. To say it was a bit messy would have been an understatement. Parchment, ink, pieces of twine, bottles of concoctions that glowed purple and green, dried flowers, all manner of strange equipment littered every surface. Rennon was used to this, he liked the mess, it was home to him. He kicked off his boots, suddenly aware of his aching feet, and wriggled his toes into the air. His grandmother returned from the kitchen smiling, her soft cheeks lined with age, and she had two mugs between the fingers of one hand and a plate in the other. Pushing the papers and dried flowers aside, she made room for the food and set it down between them. The plate was filled with brown bread, soft cheeses and fresh red apples, followed by a bowl of steaming broth.

Rennon couldn’t wait, he had spent the whole day with a rumbling belly, he broke the bread and began to wolf the meal down.

“Our Ren is becoming one hell of a tracker, he spotted things even I missed!” Ulef announced proudly.

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” his grandmother beamed, walking back to the other side of the kitchen,she stood over the fire where she had three different pans hanging down from a metal rod, each one burning a different colour and emitting a strange odour.

Rennon wandered over curiously, mouth half-full with a crust of bread, “What are you working on?”

“I’m making a tincture for the Lakren family, they’re riddled with a fever and nothing so far has worked to bring their temperature down, so I’m just trying something new. I’d never thought of it before… but maybe a combination of Amantha and Silverskin would do the trick…”

Rennon interrupted, “Amantha to cool him down… but it’s so potent... hard to dose… so the Mugwreath will act as balancing agent it and bring it back up just slightly.”

“Yes Ren! You are learning so much, that’s exactly it,” It was clever, Rennon thought, hopefully it would work. “Let me show you what to do with the Knotwort you found today.”

She crushed the herb so that its flakes fell into one of the pots above the fire.

“A little water, a Gillyflower, now you have to make sure the temperature is exactly right before you add the Knotwort. If you can hold the Gillyflower above it and if its petals close like this, then it’s the perfect temperature.” She stirred the concoction clockwise for a few minutes and added the tincture to a jar. “Perfect.”

“Ma!” Ulef called from across the kitchen. “I was chatting to a trader who came through town earlier today, he reckons he has been given a tip-off about a Greenwreath clearing.”

Her eyes lit up, “Wenda’s baby is still plagued by that cough and nothing seems to be helping, my heart breaks for her… Greenwreath is the only thing I can think of to help him.”

Rennon had heard of this herb before, it was a sort of cure-all, incredibly rare and worth a lot of money, only found in very specific environments.

“Could you fetch it for me?” she suggested.

“Without a doubt. But it’s further into the woods than we have been before. It’ll be an overnight stay.” Her brow furrowed as she considered this. “I’m not sure… I worry… but you know the land best…”

“I do, and I know we will be safe, we will leave tomorrow morn and return to you by the time the midday thrush calls on the second day.”

She looked down and considered his proposal, “If it can be done safely, then do it, I fear for the babe’s life.”

Sleep found Rennon easily that night, but he found it difficult to pull himself out of his bed early the next morning. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up in bed, looking blearily around his bedroom. Aside from his bed, his walls were covered with drawings and diagrams, he had a chest of drawers with a few spare items of clothing, a wooden box for any special items, and a bookshelf. Books were pretty hard to come by in Arben, since almost no one could read, but his grandmother had taught him. He had just six books on his shelf, and he had read them all cover to cover, absorbing all the knowledge he could. He reached for a white linen shirt and his comfortable hare-brown trousers, pulled them on and tied them with a piece of leather cord. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he walked into the front room where Ulef was packing their knapsacks for the day.

His grandmother pulled them into her arms, covering them with her familiar scent of blackberries and old parchment, “You both be safe, I will look for you when the thrush calls.”

Their journey was effortless. Meandering through the woods, they talked of plants and the seasons, Rennon told him all about the fox family and the curious insect he had seen. They stopped midway through their journey to snack on dried fruit and nuts, picking berries from the trees on their way, they both knew well what was safe to eat, and what was not. They sang old familiar tunes to pass the time on their walk.

The king lived atop the hill

In a land of light and dark

All across the earth he heard

The wren, the thrush, the lark

The king loved the shadow,

The shadow knew him well

They danced in the darkness

Until it was time to say farewell

The king lost the shadow

The shadow closed her eyes…

They hummed until the songs naturally faded, and after several hours, they came to a small bubbling stream, Ulef’s eyes lit up.

“This must be it! I’ve followed the exact route the trader told me about, it must be here somewhere…” his eyes scanned the water’s edge. ‘AH-HA! GOT IT! Ohhh your grandmother is going to be so damned pleased! And Wenda too! Come here Ren, look at this!”

It was a tiny waterfall, tumbling down the mossy rocks, the sound was like delicate music. Rennon had only seen Greenwreath a few times in his life, his grandmother often had some saved for emergencies, but she had run out this time as it was so hard to come by.

They crouched at the water’s edge.

“I don’t see it, Pa,” Rennon whispered.

“Of course you don’t… come here…”

All at once he pushed Rennon’s head into the waterfall, causing him to splutter suddenly and lash out, but once he opened his eyes he saw it… a tiny little thing with curled leaves covered in a soft white down. The plant seemed to emit a pale green glow all of its own, it seemed to hum its own gentle song, it was hiding behind the waterfall. His father’s head joined him through the water.

“Beautiful isn’t it… the best place for them is under a waterfall. Waterfalls are hard to come by in the summer, they dry out real easy. Can you pass me the knife?”

Rennon fumbled with the knapsack, and took the dark steel knife out of a pocket on the side. He watched as his father carefully cut the plant.

“Look closely Ren… I’m leaving just enough so that it can grow back again, you cut anywhere underneath the green stem down to the brown root, it won’t be able to recover.”

Rennon watched intently, genuinely fascinated. His father placed the herb into a leather pouch and fastened it around his waist. They pulled themselves out of the waterfall, soaking wet but grinning profusely at each other, mission accomplished.

With their mission completed, they busied themselves with setting up camp for the night. Ulef gathered more firewood whilst Rennon started a fire using old leaves and flint. Once the fire was up, they filled an old metal pot with water from the stream, and added the vegetables they’d packed, setting the broth to boil. They lay their thick cloaks down and sprawled out upon them, gazing up at the star-sprinkled sky. They shared a comfortable silence, listened to nought but the broth bubbling gently on the fire.

Rennon’s eyes were closed, basking in the evening air, when all of a noise pulled him up from his restful silence. Something wailed in the night air and the sound was getting nearer, uncomfortably close. They were further into the woods than they had been before, he prayed they had come upon a wolf pack or a particularly noisy owl. His father must have had the same idea, he sprung up, eyes darting, obviously trying to decide what to do. The wailing tore throughout the forest, painfully loud in the silence of the night, and the sweep of black wings soared above them.

Ulef leapt before his son and wielded the small herbal knife he had towards the sky, though they both knew it would be of little use against the creature that now landed before him, crushing the bracken under its thick, tar-black scales. As large as an oak tree, its grey eyes glittered in the moonlight as it bared its huge teeth and considered them for a moment. Visibly shaking, Ulef walked slowly backwards as the creature growled at him. Fear gripped Rennon’s body, his heart pounded against his chest and breathing escaped him now… how would they fare against a dragon?

As he thought of his grandmother waiting for the thrush to call, and no one returning home and his heart ached. He thought of his cluttered home, his books, his writing… They had no weapons to speak of and no fighting skills, they could not outrun a dragon. Rennon readied himself for death, accepting it and only wishing it not be painful.

Rennon exhaled and closed his eyes, but instead of feeling fang and scales tear through his body, it was an icy chill that flooded his veins. His eyes sprang open and were immediately drawn to the dragon’s shadow, extended long behind his body in the moonlight. His mind emptied of the thoughts of his grandmother and his Arben, and without knowing what was happening, he reached for the shadow and touched it with his mind.

Using forces unfamiliar to him, he pulled on the shadow and slowly dragged its edges over the creature, shrouding it completely in darkness. With his mind at peace, he pushed on the shadow and pinned it down onto the beast. The dragon whined and looked on in panic and confusion, straining against the dark prison. Rennon waited a few seconds… he knew in that moment he controlled the darkness and he could kill this creature if he wanted. He looked into its eyes, once angry, now filled with sadness, and he ripped the shadow away, causing it to fall back behind the dragon. It staggered backwards, causing the trees to ripple, and with one beat of its wings, it tore away into the night sky.

Rennon’s mind was filled with thoughts again and he dropped to his knees. His father stood before him, his fist was still clenched as though he was gripping the knife, but the object had fallen out of his hand some time ago. Ulef shook, his eyes dark, he backed away from Rennon, almost as if he was scared of his own child. All of Rennon’s senses came back to him at once, his heart pounded, confusion rushed through his veins, his mouth was dry and his hands were shaking. All at once, he burst into tears. Unstoppable, painful, hot tears which wet his shirt, he threw his head into his hands and collapsed, heaving on the forest floor. At the sight of his boy crying, Ulef snapped out of his stupor and ran to him, taking him into his arms.

“Hush son…” His face looked weary now, the laughter lines that were usually there were replaced with the tiresome struggle of age. He lay Rennon down gently onto the cloaks, his gasping sobs became gentle tears. Rennon closed his eyes and drifted in and out of consciousness that night, his head felt empty, like something had been taken from it, he saw only their fire in a haze before him and had the same unfamiliar dream; dark skies, shadowed woods, and an endless night.