The Right to Bear Wings

There weren't always dragons in the Valley.

Let me be more precise. The dragons that we could see from the valley were not a threat. Occasionally you might see one soaring overhead, passing between distant peaks, but never did they venture down into the lowlands, where my folk reside.

Now they are everywhere, hordes of belligerent dragons.

You can see their threats smudged upon the city walls and beyond, messages burned with flame, sooty edged marks reminding us of their promise to obliterate all folk. If you feel safe enough to venture back into the wildlands, I invite you to witness the scar marks left charred upon tree and dale, signs of their ferocious campaign of terror.

I still remember the ashen remains of our farmhouse, smoldering and smoking as a warm summer rain pattered softly down. My parents, my kin all lost in the conflagration. From my village, I was the sole survivor. It is said that the dragons always leave one to remember. I have found this to be true. Everyone I know today is a sole survivor.

After the attack, I spent a few days rummaging through the ruins in search of others. I wept until I felt dry from the inside out, all the way to the pit of my stomach. In my search, I found very little sustenance and no survivors, but on day three I spied riders on horseback coming over the horizon. The sight rekindled a spark of hope.

The knights of Lady Zhoan are legendary protectors of the realm, well known for their well-regulated military might. On this day, they were returning from battle and gathering survivors along the way, shepherding them to the safety of the city. They rescued me from the wreckage and I joined their entourage with gratitude for their protection, but most of all to meet other survivors. The knights invited me to fight and train with them, but the Order had a different idea for my talents.

These days, I call the cloister home. The young and weak are placed here as lookouts. Many of us have learned our letters, but few know how to string them together to make words and stories. I do. It is my gift. At least, that is what Ma Ghemma always said. I was always good at telling stories, especially the ones I made up in my head. The Order collected lettered folk to help in record keeping and diplomatic correspondence. I am lucky to serve and admit that I am much better suited to work as a librarian than as a warrior. I’ve made friends in the mess hall and I know the life a knight leads is not for me. My constitution cannot support rigorous physical training.

From my privileged perch in the halls of the Order, I can look out the window to see rubble atumble, a grim reminder of the recent bombing. Workers take turns in shift to bury it, lest the dragons come back to claim it as artillery. New recruits train with more seasoned soldiers in the yards. Everyone has at least one job. My talents dictate that I serve in dual capacity: I scan the skies with my eagle eyes in the morning when the light is good. And in the afternoon, I pen letters on behalf of Lady Zhoan, seeking recruits for her army. Alliances are cheap when all country folk face the same frequent attacks, but that doesn’t mean they are easy to come by.

Recently, Lady Zhoan has been sending some folk on what she calls “peace-keeping missions”and so far no one has come back from any of them. Some of us suspect that she has sent these folk as sacrifices to appease the dragons’ wrath. Others think that she is marrying off some folk in exchange for soldiers. No one knows for sure. Each teams’ marching orders have been kept secret.

Tomorrow, I am to leave as part of a small cohort on one such mission. In fact, there are four groups leaving tomorrow, each with a team that includes three knights, a mage, and a librarian.

Rumor has it that Lady Zhoan herself will accompany one of the contingencies. I cannot deny that I am afraid, but I believe in Lady Zhoan and I am loyal to the fight for peace.

Meckaela and Djeen will travel with me. I don’t know who the third knight will be. Or the mage. Maybe it will be Lady Zhoan. She is the most noble and accomplished of all the knights and a skilled magician. It would be an honor to accompany her on this mission. Djeen told me that she doesn’t believe the rumor, but Meckaela holds hope that it could be true. None of us want to believe we’re being sent out as bait or dragon food, but we’ve all considered the possibilities. We’ll find out tomorrow just before dawn when we marshall our teams and gather our arms. Even librarians have a part in this fight. I wonder what mine will be.