The Ruin of Gods

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Nothing is as it once was, Efrain thought as he walked through the remnants of a smoldering grove. The absolute absence of anything green here added weight to an already weary man. Once he had walked with the gods on this very path. He had learned much about the mysteries of this world from them, witnessed wonders, and asked endless questions. None were left to question or walk with…

The assault happened without preamble, and his gods fell with ash and flame.

Coward. He thought as he remembered Cephastes hiding him with his power, telling him he must flee and continue teaching the world.

A world that begets such violence is one I will not partake in.

Just a few days south of where his gods were slaughtered and he was nearing the end of the Valley. South, into the hills beyond and away from the rest of the world.

Clouds of ash followed in his wake as he meandered along a former trail. Even with the layer of ash, his footsteps sounded loud to his ears, and he wondered if Cephastes’s protection still held. It was impossible to bring himself to care either way. Like lifting a rock out of the water, the weight of surviving was magnified the farther he ventured from his home.

Could he have been wrong? Those he considered to be gods were buried under the advent of scales and ruin… Were these winged beasts the new divinity? No, even if it were so, I cannot accept their brutality as a right to rule.

Efrain looked around aimlessly, he cared little about his direction but hunger was beginning to become a prevalent voice in his mind. His foot caught on a root hidden within the ash and left him sprawled out on the decimated floor of his beloved forest floor.

He lay there for a time, breathing slow and wondering if he would ever gain enough courage to stand again. As good a place as any to end my journey. A sharp rock was pushing in between his ribs, causing no small amount of pain. Still, it was not enough to beg him to move.

A sharp prod in his shoulder caused him to slowly open his eyes.

She was young, no more than ten. Skinned knuckles gripped a thin branch that she held out before her as if it were a blade. Her hair was a matte of debris and blood, her skin was covered in ash and her clothing was torn even worse than his own.

“Are you going to get up?” Her small voice seemed out of place amidst the devastation around her.

Efrain closed his eyes again.

“My father told me to follow you, that you would lead me out of this place.”

Lightning coursed through his veins and he sprang to his feet.

“Your father?” He croaked as he studied her face with more purpose than he had felt in days. It couldn’t be. He had seen the fires engulf their sanctuary. None could have survived the wrath of the infernal dragons.

Yet she stood before him, looking more alive than he felt. He could see it now. How ensconced in his own misery had he been to overlook her familiar features? This was Cephastes’s daughter.

“Lanren?” His voice broke as he said the name.

She gave him a small nod and scanned the skies for their enemies.

He once again lost his strength and fell to his knees. Tears of shame and heartbreaking joy cascaded down his dirty face.

“Get up.” She said, and the steel in her voice was enough to break him out of his revelation. “They prowl the skies, seeking any survivors. Will you lead me out of the Valley?”

There was something more to her words than just strength, almost a transfer of will as she spoke to Efrain. He felt like he was aware of his body once again, of the pain from his journey, of the emptiness in the hollow of his heart. Yet the pain was no longer overwhelming, he didn’t have to be numb anymore.

He nodded his head, he would lead his god’s child out of this damned place.

“Good.” She said, “We leave now.” And indicated for him to lead the way.

A ghost of a smile alighted on Efrain’s face as he lead Lanren out of the Valley. He thought, with no small amount of elation, perhaps not all of the gods are dead.