The Scavenger

“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley,” I thought. Looking up, I saw them circling the starting line. They had arrived when I was a child. Toph and I had been running through this poppy field when we spotted our first dragon. It wasn’t much of a field anymore. Scorched, cracked earth now lay between me and the forest. I wondered where the poppies had gone. I wondered if Toph had gone with them.

“Scavengers to the starting line,” the announcer yelled at the participants. I jumped, remembering that I needed to stay focused if I wanted to win. There was a rumor that the Baron’s son would be selecting a human this year. A match with him would get my family off our miserable little farm on the edge of town.

I approached the starting line. My heart pounded in my chest. This was what I had been training for for years. I checked my gear was secure. The rope was tied down, my snack pouch was firmly shut. My flag pouch was empty. I was heading into the forest to find three flags to fill it. I bounced up and down, reviewing the forest trivia my mother had drilled into me over the years.

“We’ve included some new challenges this year that are sure to entertain. Of course, not all of you will make it back,” the announcer said with a chuckle. My mind flashed back to Toph. What was going through his head last year before he ran across this line? Was his heart pounding as mine was now? Was he sweating? Which challenge finally caught him?

“And watch out for the alleged Resistance,” the announcer continued. Laughter rang through the crowd. Rumors had been circling for years about a supposed Resistance deep in the forest. If they did exist, all they managed to resist was legitimacy.

“Last chance to turn back,” the announcer yelled. The dragons laughed this time. I clenched my fists. I looked around at the other resolute participants. We could either die here or die a slow death in the fields. At least this felt intentional.

“No one? Great!” The announcer bellowed. The dragons roared above.

“On your mark,” I checked my fire-resistant padding one last time, making sure important organs would be protected.

“Get set,” I took a deep breath and crouched down.

“Go!” Fire erupted across the field from on high. I bolted straight towards it.

The fire dissipated. The cracked earth had nothing left to burn. I could feel the remaining heat through my shoes as I ran.

The first contestants made it to the forest. I watched them disappear into the darkness. I glanced back at the finish line. One thing was certain: the old me would never cross that line again.

My shoes started to cool as my foot crashed into the cool grass under the trees. The smell of evergreens filled my nose. The humidity of the forest surrounded me and cooled my face. I surveyed the forest. Most contestants were well ahead of me.

*Crash!* I watched one of the contestants disappear into the earth. “Well, we found the booby traps,” I thought. I heard roaring overhead. The canopy was still thin enough for the dragons to watch. They loved booby traps. Dragons perfected the art of the booby trap back when they would hoard treasure in the mountains.

I looked down and found another poorly covered hole a few yards ahead of me. I adjusted my course to avoid it. As I ran past it, I saw something glistening through the leaves. “A flag!” I thought. I stopped and looked back. There was no one behind me, so there wasn’t a risk of someone grabbing it. Everyone ahead must have skipped this one.

The flag was half buried in the center of the stick and leaf trap. The smallest corner stuck out and glistened blue. Blue signaled the risk of physical injury. The physical injury flags were the least impressive. I didn’t care. I just needed to survive. Someone else could worry about prestige.

I needed to pull out the flag without disturbing the pile or figure out how to get into the hole. There were plenty of spindly branches overhead. I pulled a rope from my belt and threw it over a branch. I tugged on the branch. It bowed easily. There was no way the branch would hold my weight, so I couldn’t swing over. Maybe I could attach something sticky to the rope and swing it over to the flag.

I jogged around the perimeter to survey the foliage nearby. I stopped at some ember moss glowing on the base of the tree. It was a great antiseptic, but it was not very sticky. Reaching down, I scooped some up in case I’d need it later.

There were a couple of fire beetles rolling along the floor near the moss. They were a brilliant orange color that flashed as they walked in and out of the sunlight that speckled along the forest floor. Fire beetles excreted a nasty, sticky mucus. Last time I picked one up as a child, my hand swelled and burned for days.

I found a rock and raised it above my head. I smashed it into the tiny, unsuspecting bug. There was a satisfying crunch. I smiled, enjoying the payback all these years later. I held the rock up. It was now covered in yellow goo with orange glints from the exoskeleton still glistening in the sun.

I reached down and grabbed a leaf. I stuck the leaf to the rock to make sure the goo would stick to the flag. It worked.

I jogged back to my rope and carefully tied it around the rock. I pulled the rock back to line it up with the flag. With a prayer, I let the rock go and hoped my aim was good. I held my breath as it swung towards the flag. The rock missed by inches.

I heard the beating of wings overhead. Looking up, I saw a young green dragon had taken an interest in my contraption. Hopefully, she was impressed and not simply jeering.

The rock swung back, and I grabbed the rope. Maybe I could guide the rock to the flag. I grabbed the other rope I brought with me and tied it above the rock. Letting out the second rope, I watched the rock fall towards the flag. Once the first rope was hanging straight down from the branch, I walked to the other side of the booby trap. I stopped to line up the flag with the rock. I gave the rope a quick tug. The rock hit the flag and pulled it free from the leaves.

“Yes!” I said aloud while I punched my free hand into the air. Running back around, I reeled in the rock. I grabbed my prize. I was eager to slide it into my belt. My index finger immediately started burning. I stifled a yell. My watcher couldn’t know I injured myself so stupidly. Thrusting my hand to the ground, I tried to rub the goo off on the forest floor. The cool dirt helped, but my finger was throbbing. “Brilliant start,” I thought.

I grabbed a leaf and wrapped it around the flag. I secured the flag in my pouch. I pulled the ropes down and examined my finger. It was bright red and swelling. “At least I still have a finger,” I thought.

Standing up, I looked towards the heart of the forest. Most of the challenges would be deep in the forest. The dragons loved hearing tales the contestants brought back from the furthest depths of the ancient woods.

The other contestants were long gone at this point. I started running. I hoped I could still find the flags they missed.

As I ran further into the forest, the trees grew wider, and my breaths grew shorter. I glanced up. The dragon glided above me. The leaves tickled her scaled belly. She could only follow me for so long before the forest grew too thick for her to watch me through the canopy. Hopefully, I could impress her with the next flag before then.

As I fell into my familiar gate, the dragon matched my pace. She seemed content to follow my progress as I ran deeper into the woods. Glancing up, I tried to spot any discerning features on her. She didn’t have the red scale markings of the gentry on her belly. Her belly was simply white - like the bellies of the dragons who first appeared all those years ago.

They had come to help us. The first dragons built roads and wells around the town square in exchange for goods from the forest. They couldn’t travel through the woods themselves. It was too thick. Their wings were too wide. As I child, I would take small adventures into these woods to find ember mosses and other plants the dragons use for medicine. In exchange, the dragons would take me on flying trips over the valley. One time, when I found a particularly beautiful stone, they helped us build a fence around our fields.

One day, word spread that the dragons were fighting a war. Although the war was far from our valley, the dragons started demanding more from the forest, more from us. Everyday, they needed more food, more medicine. People started traveling further and further into the woods to try to meet their demands. The dragons created special roles for humans skilled at traveling through the woods. They created this competition to select the best scavengers.

The sound of water interrupted my thoughts. I realized that my canteen was almost empty. The river would be a great place to catch my breath. I turned towards the sound and kept running.

I slowed down as the terrain became rockier. There was an embankment. I walked up to the edge and peered down. Beautiful clear water rushed through boulders. I identified a flat rock that I could sit on. Before climbing down, I looked around. I didn’t want to be ambushed by a competitor or something nastier from the forest. The forest was silent. Nothing moved. Crouching down, I hopped to the nearest boulder and worked my way to the flat rock.

I knelt down on the rock and thrust my hands into the clear water. The cold eased my throbbing finger. Cupping my hands, I raised the water to my head. I washed off the sweat and dirt that had accumulated over the last few hours.

Sitting down, I pulled out the dried lingonberries my sister had packed for me. She had picked them just for me to take today. It was no small feat. The hills they grew on were a six hour hike from our farm. She had insisted on going because lingonberries were the best for keeping up stamina. I popped the little red morsel into my mouth. My tongue was greeted with sweetness and a tad bit of sour.

I leaned back against the rock while I munched on the berries. I had to be selected, for my sister, for my mother. I could relieve them of our hard farm life. Being selected by a dragon would mean we’d move into their garden. We’d have constant food and shelter from the wind and rain. I’d have to run the occasional dangerous errand, but it was a much easier life than the farm.

My eye caught something moving on the bank to my left. Jumping to my feet, I grabbed my knife from my belt. I looked up over the boulders but couldn’t see anything. Whatever was up there had the high ground. I was trapped.

My heart pounded in my chest. I carefully placed the lingonberries back in my pouch. I looked up at the dragon. Maybe she was watching the thing that was after me. She was looking off in the distance. I guess my break wasn’t terribly exciting for her. The water roared next to me and obscured any hopes I had of hearing whatever was up there.

A field mouse hoped on top of the boulder across from me. I exhaled. I loosened the grip on my knife. I looked around but still didn’t see anything larger. “All that for a mouse,” I thought.

I turned and grabbed the boulder to hoist myself back to the river bank. *Bam*! I heard something hit the rock. I turned my head. The mouse was gone.

I pulled myself on top of the rock. Peering over the riverbank, I strained for anything hiding in the woods. Nothing.

I winced. Pain radiated from my foot. I looked down. Two holes had been punctured in my shoe. I spotted a black and green tail. It slid behind the boulder next to me. Three thoughts flashed through my head, “That was a River Serpent. It is poisonous. I’ve been bit.”

I hoisted myself on top of the bank. Grabbing the rope from my belt, I tied a piece of rope around my leg. I hoped the knot would slow the poison. Taking a deep breath I ran through my memory. Spotted green mushroom. I needed a spotted green mushroom. Peering around the forest, I searched for one in vain. They didn’t typically grow in the flatlands: they grew along the base of the mountains. I needed to get going if I was going to have any hope of finding one before I dropped dead.

Looking back towards the river, I tried to spot the serpent. The last thing I needed was a second bite as I ran off. I slowly walked around the bend as I watched the river. Something green caught my eye. A flag! Green stood for a poison challenge. The warning came a bit late.

The flag was sitting at the base of two boulders. Rocks formed a ring around it. Black speckled eggs were scattered about the rocks. “Of course the flag would be in a River Serpent’s nest. It’s a delicacy for the dragons,” I thought. The serpent was nowhere in sight.

I needed to distract the serpent if I were to climb down into the nest. Killing the serpent didn’t feel right. It was a pawn in this game, like me.

Turning around, I surveyed the forest. I heard rustling of leaves not too far away. Another mouse! If I placed the mouse far enough away, it might lure the serpent out of the nest. With the serpent distracted, I could grab the flag. It seemed absurd to try to race a serpent, but I was already racing against the clock.

I hobbled over to the edge of the forest, my foot burning with each step. Crouching down, I placed a few berries from my pouch onto the floor and waited. The little mouse stuck its nose out from under the leaves where it had been hiding. It scurried over to the berries and sniffed. At that moment I dropped my hands on top of him, trapping it.

I picked up the mouse and hobbled back towards the river.

Looking over the edge of the embankment, I tried to spot the serpent. Nothing. I hobbled about twenty yards from the nest and prayed I’d be faster than the serpent. I dropped the poor mouse down the side and started towards the nest.

About halfway there, I saw a tail curling around a boulder. The serpent was heading towards the mouse. I picked up my pace as I tried to quietly hobble back towards the nest. I leaped from the embankment to the top of the boulder. Dropping to my belly, I reached into the nest.

I caught movement in the corner of my eye. I saw the serpent heading back towards me. It hissed as it prepared to strike. I grabbed the flag. It lunged, and I pulled my hand back. This time, I was faster.

I jumped up and hurdled back to the embankment. The serpent lunged again. My foot protested as I landed on the grass. Pain shot through my leg. I collapsed. The snake couldn’t make it. The embankment was too high. I pushed myself back to my feet and started hobbling away. I bit my cheek as I fought back tears. With the flag clutched tight in my hands, I started hobbling as quickly as I could away from the embankment.

Once I was sufficiently far away, I collapsed onto the grass. I felt the cool earth against my cheek and thanked God I was still breathing. Cool sweat was collecting on my forehead. Sitting up, I pulled off my shoe to evaluate the damage.

My foot was as red as my lingonberries and swollen. There were two dark marks on the very top of my foot. I pulled out the moss I had collected earlier. It wasn’t going to save me, but it wouldn’t make things worse. I mashed the moss between my hands and rubbed it onto my foot. The burning made me wince.

I laid back down and stared into the sky above the forest. The dragon was still watching me, her head cocked to the right.

“Entertained?” I yelled at her. Her head bounced as if she were chuckling. Dragons were supposed to have excellent hearing. “Do you have any spotted mushrooms?” I yelled. It was worth a shot. She just circled overhead, watching me. “Guess I am on my own,” I thought.

I sat up. Time was running out. The bite would only get more painful the longer I sat here. I pushed myself onto my feet and grimacing from the pain. I bit down on my lip as I took a step. The mountain wasn’t getting any closer. “That’s one step down,” I thought, “and only a few thousand more to the base of the mountain.”

This was the hardest hobble run I’d ever done in my life. Sweat pooled on my brow. I could taste blood from biting on my lip. Pain, step, pain, step. On and on, I went deeper into the forest. Pain, step, pain, step.

The forest got cooler as the canopy grew thicker. The woods got darker and darker. Pain, step, pain, step. My ears started ringing.

I looked up. The forest was finally too thick for the dragon to follow. I wondered if I would ever see her again.

I kept my eyes peeled for mushrooms. My neck hurt from turning left, then right. I heard strange calls from strange creatures. I had never been this deep in the woods - so deep you couldn’t see the sky.

When I was about halfway, I stopped for a break. I leaned against a tree. I was afraid that if I sat down I wouldn’t get back up. My armor was soaked through. My body was shivering. I pulled out my berries and ate the last handful. I savored each sweet pop on my tongue. My entire leg was swollen.

My leg was stiff, but I had to keep moving. I forced my body to take another step, then another. I was pain, one large human shaped mass of pain.

My toe caught a rock. I tripped and barely caught myself before I hit the ground. Rocks pushed through the leaves on the forest floor. “I must be close to the mountains,” I thought. “The mushrooms must be close”.

I tried to push myself back up. I heard something behind me. I rolled onto my back and grabbed my knife from my belt. A figure approached.

It was a man. He was dressed in tattered clothing and had a thick, unkept beard. Cautiously, he walked closer with a dagger in hand. He stopped and relaxed his stance. “Bea? Is that you?”

This must be a hallucination. The poison had reached my brain. This was it. At least it was letting me go with one nice last thought.

The man ran closer. He kneeled and dropped his knife. I raised my knife to meet him. “Who are you, and how do you know me?” I asked.

“It’s me, Bea. What happened to you?” the man asked.

“River Serpent poison,” I managed to say as my arm gave out. The man got up and ran into the forest.

I collapsed to the ground. My periphery started to go black. I stared at the canopy. I wished I could see the sky one last time. I thought of my sister and my mother who I failed. They’d never know what happened to me. I’d just be another person who went into the forest, never to return. Closing my eyes, I breathed in the pine scent to savor it before I went.

I heard footsteps. Someone knelt besides me. He shoved something into my mouth. “Chew!” a voice commanded.

I chewed. I noted the bitterness and swallowed. Hands grabbed my body and lifted me into the air. The ringing in my ears started to subside. I opened my eyes to the sunless canopy. Turning my head, I saw the man in the forest. His eyes. I knew those eyes.

“Toph? I thought you were dead?” I whispered.

He smiled, “Welcome to The Resistance, Bea.”