The Lightbearer’s Stone

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. When the frosts of winter fell across the branches and withered the flowers, when snow hid the thick, mossy clumps, building up in little peaks against the dormant tree trunks, the valley stood empty.

But the spring always returned eventually, and so did the dragons. Just as the people were heavy with the weariness of snowdrifts and cold houses, the first breezes of spring would return to restore warmth and hope. The dragons came too, year upon year, for longer than anyone could remember. Everyone knew not to go near the valley when the dragons first returned. Their colourful, spectacular eggs were guarded and protected fiercely. No one would approach the dragons’ breeding grounds without a death wish.

Aila crouched behind a few rocks, her heart hammering as she looked out at the field full of giant beasts. They were something to behold. Each dragon was different, scales shimmering in unique patterns and glinting in different colours depending on how the light touched them. Most were huge, although there were a few smaller ones in the middle of the herd.

That was the thing Aila admired most about dragons. They were terrifying and beautiful and they always protected each other. The largest dragons roamed the borders of the valley, some keeping towards the trees, some edging closer to the city, but they surrounded the smaller, less powerful dragons, keeping them well guarded and safest in the lower parts of the valley. They were, nonetheless, terrifying.

No one knew why the dragons migrated to the valley every year, just that it had always been so. Travel from Drakesvale was strictly regulated at this time of year.

There had been tragedies in the past when people had gotten too close. Half of Drakesvale had been scorched once. Aila was too young to remember it, but the elders all had stories. Everyone knew someone who had lost something or someone dear in that fire.

There she was, perplexed by her own audacity, so close now to the dragons. Aila knew the dangers, but she had to try. One scale. That was all she needed. It didn’t matter what colour it was or which dragon it came from. She just needed one. One dragon scale would change her life.

Aila’s heart was in her throat. She could hardly concentrate. Just being this close to so many magnificent creatures had a paralyzing effect on her. She blinked herself back to reality and scrutinized the ground.

She ran her fingers along the newly sprouting grass and bare dirt patches and scattered rocks and pebbles. A little chunk of smooth, purple stone caught Aila’s eye and she scratched away the dirt to free it and pick it up. She pinched the stone between her fingers and turned it, pushing the extra dirt off of it.

Something about the stone called out to Aila. It was simple, yet beautiful. It stood out against all the empty earth and still bare branches, but she couldn’t be distracted from her purpose. She had come for a dragon scale, not some dumb rock.

Aila looked up, squinting and shielding her eyes against the sunlight. She scanned the surface of the ground in front of her but nothing caught her eye. She knew she was going to have to get closer.

Aila glanced down once more at the random, purple stone. It wasn’t a dragon scale but she had never seen anything similar and it was pretty. She tucked the rock into her pocket pouch and promptly forgot its existence.

Breathless with anxiety, Aila started crouch-crawling down the hill a little closer to the dragons. She looked up and down, fingers feeling through the grass for a dropped scale. She expected it to be like finding a bird feather, but at least most birds didn’t want to kill you if you got too close to them.

Aila inched closer and closer, but she was hardly looking properly, as she was so busy keeping her notice on the dragons. Nothing was worth being roasted to death like a human marshmallow.

On her hands and knees now, Aila tried to focus her attention on the ground. She crawled slowly, looking left and right, high and low. She noticed in the background of her mind that her limbs had begun to shake. Holding herself steady when she wanted to bolt was taking all of her effort.

Like it or not, she became absorbed in the activity of searching. So when she finally registered a gentle heat passing over the back of her neck, there was no chance of being able to run or hide.

Her body seemed to turn to stone as she realized where the heat was coming from. A scream locked in her throat as Aila slowly sat back into a crouched position and looked up very, very slowly.

The dragon was so close that all Aila could really see was a gigantic, slit pupil, surrounded by yellow, and a few dark, rough scales as the dragon’s head was turned, looking at her.

Aila licked her suddenly dry-as-paper lips and opened her mouth. She tried to focus on her breathing but she could hardly remember how to fill her lungs in that moment.

The dragon’s giant eyeball remained centimetres from Aila’s nose.

A force of breath squeaked through Aila’s vocal folds in a strangled scream, like the kind that happens when you’re having a nightmare and can’t find your voice in the dream world. Only this was actually happening.

Aila fully expected to die. There was no escape. She had come to the end of her life. This was it. She waited.

She waited for her final moments to hit. She wondered what they would feel like or if she would even notice at all. Nothing was happening.

Death was taking forever. Every second of time was an eternity.

Aila stood up slowly, even though her legs felt as if their bones had fallen out and left behind piles of jelly. The dragon’s eye followed her as she stood, never leaving her face, never drifting.

She slowly inched her foot backward, trying to put distance between her and the dragon. She slid her along the ground and she timidly stretched her leg behind her in a gradual movement. She managed only a few cautious steps until she realized three other dragons had approached and now surrounded her.

One giant, clawed foot raised up and Aila squeezed her eyes shut tight. Maybe death would be less painful if she wasn’t looking. She felt a tug at her waist, surprisingly gentle. Realizing the feeling was her pocket pouch, Aila opened one eye, reluctantly, keeping the other closed so she could peek at what was happening.

The dragon was pawing at her bag, but carefully, almost respectfully. Aila opened both her eyes and looked down at her pocket which she had secured to her belt. Her breathing relaxed, her heart rate slowed, even though the imminent threat had not passed. She was instead filled with a strange sense of calm. The pressing, thundering sound in her ears faded and she noticed for the first time how quietly the dragons moved. She could hear the distant sound of birds singing, and even the quiet fluttering of leaves from the trees along the forest edge.

Nature itself was not alarmed by the dragons. It was a strangely comforting thought. The dragon’s claws pushed once more against the pocket and it swung back and forth in response.

“A— are you…?” Aila began a question, finding her voice at last, even though it sounded feeble and small in the air between the dragons.

For some reason, Aila thought she understood. The dragon wanted her to open her pocket. She slowly unwound the string from around the clasp and opened it up. She reached her hand inside the velvety fabric that lined the inside of the pocket. She intended to show that it was empty.

And then her fingers brushed against the smooth, purple stone that she had picked up earlier. Confused, Aila let herself grab the stone and pull it every so slowly out of the bag. Was this what the dragons wanted? Were they asking her to do this, she wondered.

Aila looked up at the closest dragon that still stood staring at her, little puffs of smoke emanating from its nostrils each time it took a heated breath.

Still filled with fear, yet going by instinct, Aila opened her palm to reveal the purple stone. It seemed to glow and glitter in her hand, and she could see its image reflected in the dragon’s eye. She didn’t remember the stone glowing before, though she could have been mistaken.

The dragon’s thick, dark eyelid descended over its eye in a slow blink. It huffed a hot breath and a little bit of the skin on the back of Aila’s hands blistered.

The great beast turned in a sudden shift and all of the dragons — all of them — followed suit. They walked, with their gravity defying, soft steps, back towards the valley, leaving Aila alone, staring in disbelief.

She glanced back down at the tiny stone in her hand, her mouth open in stunned silence. The rock was a smooth, purple stone once again. Her lips still felt dry and she looked back towards the valley where the dragons roamed, looking tame and gentle now despite their size. They didn’t seem to care that she was there any longer.

Aila closed her fingers back over the rock and scrambled as fast as she could towards the road back to Drakesvale. She looked over her shoulder once again to see the dragons, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

She slipped the stone back into her pocket, secured it tightly, and walked home.