The Eye of the Dragon

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

That’s what they told us. From a young age, we were taught that dragons began appearing only fifty years ago, wreaking havoc and consuming everything in their path. Once touched by a dragon, nothing remained unchanged. They ravaged cattle, ate wandering children, and burnt forests for no other reason than for their evil spirits and destructive nature.

That’s what they told us. We, of course, never witnessed any of this. We were told this is how it was. It formed an integral component of our historical narratives, echoed through the sermons delivered in the hallowed halls of our churches, and seamlessly woven into the fabric of our everyday discourse. Our language was impregnated with dragon metaphors: it is fouler than a dragon’s breath was one, he’s sneakier than a dragon on the hunt… and many more.

Why would we ever doubt it? Literature was full of evil dragons: from Tolkien’s Smaug, to the dragon in Rothfuss’ The Name of the Wind, R.R. Martin’s Balerion, and countless others portrayed in Western literature as symbols of chaos and horror. Yet, a lingering sense told me that reality often hides beneath a veneer, never quite aligning with the narratives imposed upon us. Truth has an interesting way of being disguised, and reality is only that side of the coin we are allowed to see. I managed to get a hold of some literature where dragons weren’t the monsters we were led to believe they were, such as The Neverending Story, Eragon, How to Train your Dragon, and others. I knew the truth had to be something in between. I needed to find out on my own. Those last books were hard to come by, they were banned, just like any other book where dragons weren’t shown in the light that the authorities wanted us to see them.

I was born in the Valley —more specifically, the city of Valley— which wasn’t really a Valley, but a place. It used to be called Georgia long ago, but we called it the Valley. Most of those states adopted new names, more like areas. The United States no longer remained as such. The world transformed when the first dragons started to appear, some seventy years ago or so, or that’s what they told us. There were no old-timers to tell us otherwise. Most people from those days had mysteriously started to disappear shortly after the dragons first showed up. The authorities told us it was all the doing of them evil creatures, feeding on the weak and less capable of defending themselves. History was a big messy soup, cooked with ingredients that didn’t belong together and left one with a bitter taste in the mouth. For those of us born in the last few decades, life was a complete mystery. It was near impossible to find any books on natural biology, nature, the ecosystem, or animals. Everything was a secret. Not as if many animals remained; there were, of course, the domesticated ones, but only a few wild animals remained. Again, that’s what they told us. I was tired of not knowing, of not being content with trusting the information we were receiving. I felt like I had been living with blindfolds my whole life, walking in complete darkness throughout my existence. I had to know more. I didn’t care if that meant the end of me. I had to discover what was outside the Valley. I had plotted my departure from the Valley —my jail— since every individual was confined to their birthplace. To keep us safe, they told us; to protect us from wandering off and ending up being a dragon’s next snack… or worse. What worse was, we had only heard: half charred, losing a limb or two... I had never seen a victim of a dragon attack, but there were images circulating. I was a skeptic. I knew manipulating images had been done forever. Maybe they had managed to feed me garbage all my life, maybe it was the truth, but I trusted my gut and I was proud of my critical thinking abilities. The sad reality was, that most people didn’t question what they were told. They were too scared to doubt the veracity of it. We were safe in the cities. That’s what they believed.

However, I devised my plan to leave, and I was bringing my two best friends with me. Scared as I was, I could not see a better way out. We waited for the night when the new moon made an appearance, it would be easier to cross the border in the dark, with less visibility for the guards to spot us.

We were off, three friends who had known each other since we were five, and now, in our twenties, we were ready to discover the truth of dragons, the world… everything that made us question what we were told. We were frightened —terrified, more like it— but we had each other: Emerald, Marcus, and I, Luna.

Leaving the city wasn't as complicated as one could imagine if one thinks of being imprisoned. Sometimes, the cells we create in our minds are mightier than any physical cell. There were no high walls, or wired fences like they had in those dystopian movies we used to watch together. Movies we had found on the darknet, those that had been banned (most movies that weren’t rated “G” or created by Disney weren’t allowed).

Dragons held a peculiar fascination for me; in a strange manner, they seemed akin to my own existence, as if they had been perennial witnesses to human conduct, intervening only when their patience wore thin. I wanted to understand them.

We carried little with us, backpacks filled with few clothes, provisions, some books on survival we had managed to get our hands on, an extra pair of comfortable shoes, and a few other important utilities, such as my Swiss Army knife, some “weapons” of a sort, a few other trinkets, and our ultralight tent.

We had decided to travel west, there was no point in going north, as things became strenuous the closer we got to what used to be Canada. We thought of going south, as we had heard rumors that the first dragon had been spotted in Patagonia, but that was a long way down, and our transportation methods were limited for the time being. Driving was out of the question, unless we managed to snatch a vehicle somewhere along the way.

I couldn’t help but think of a book I had seen as a teen about dragon anatomy. I remember looking, as hypnotized, at the pictures of the deep, soulful eyes of a female dragon. They were green, like a cat’s but, somehow, more expressive. Hard as I tried, I could see no malice in those eyes. Furthermore, I could detect a flicker of modest intelligence. Maybe it was my imagination playing tricks, or perhaps my memory was tricking me, but I swear it was at that moment that I stopped believing what they told us. The pictures in the book were from a specimen in captivity, one they kept alive to study somewhere in Europe, where they were a bit more lenient with them. They didn’t slaughter them like we had done on this side of the world, well, not anymore. At first, fear had taken over all reason, and dragons were killed left and right before we even got to understand anything about them.

After that picture, I wanted to encounter a dragon. I felt sure that the experience wouldn’t be a scary one. From that moment I had read everything and anything that included dragons: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Everything and anything I could get my hands on. Marcus and Emerald were very keen on their learning too, but they weren’t borderline (or fully) obsessed with them the way I was. Once something got into my head, the only way to get it out was to explore it and create my own ideas and beliefs around that subject. Maybe it wasn’t so much about dragons as it was about learning the truth, about removing the blindfold and walking into the world with a full understanding of what was what.

We decided to move for a while, to get away from the Valley before camping and resting for the night. Nobody would come looking for us. We were all orphans, and for the past few years, we had lived together. If anyone gave the alarm and noticed we were gone, we would be far away for them to chase us. We never completely realized how controlled we truly were. We were wrong.

None of us talked much during our walk through the woods, growing the gap that separated us from the city, getting closer to the edge of the Valley, closer to the next community: the Spring.

When we finally stopped to rest, we were all too exhausted to share words. We were each lost in our own minds, sorting our thoughts, pushing away our fears as best we could.

I woke up to the rays of light trying to force themselves into our tent. I heard some beautiful sounds, which reminded me of whistling. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but the sound was food to my ears.

Marcus was already awake, Emerald lay splayed taking up half of the tent. She had always slept like she was fighting a war in her sleep.

I looked at Marcus, he looked at me, and we smiled at each other. I mouthed “Good morning”, and he did the same. I gestured with my head to the entrance, so we could get out and let our friend sleep a bit longer.

The fresh dew began to evaporate with the warm hands of the sun, slowly dissipating into the air, to gradually dance away with the breeze.

—Did you sleep well?— I asked, yawning.

—Yeah… I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well in my whole life— He replied, stretching his limbs.

—What… what are those sounds? The whistling-type thing?— I asked, cautiously, embarrassed, maybe, for my ignorance.

—I believe those are birds.— I looked at him in disbelief. How could there be birds in the Valley? We had been told the dragons had eaten every flying creature that existed.

—How do you know?— I managed to ask.

—I managed to get my hands on a docu about nature and animals… you know, from… before… And there were birds, they sang. That’s how they communicate.—

I was dumbfounded. We didn’t talk much more after that, we decided to eat something, get our friend, and move onwards.

It was a beautiful spring day, which was great as things began blooming and trees became alive again. It would help if we needed to hide and not be seen. We packed everything and left, moving closer to the west as our feet moved us along.

This is where our remarkable story starts.

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