The Scion's Guardian

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. In fact, there were almost never dragons in the Valley. Which was the problem.

"I'm telling you, if the Valley had a dragon, none of this would be happening!" It was Connell that was shouting, which wasn't surprising. Of anyone, Connell had the most reason to yell. His son, Henry, had been the first.

"Of course a dragon could stop it, but it's not as though we could simply capture one and command it to do our bidding. That would undermine a dragon's role entirely." Gunther was attempting to be the voice of reason, trying to calm the anger, the hysteria that threatened to boil over.

"Well then what do you propose Gunther?" Connell asked plaintively. The anger seemed to have evaporated from him all at once, and left in its place was all the grief and fear and worry that had been consuming Connell the whole five days since his six year old boy had vanished. Everyone could see that those emotional parasites had done their job, and there was little else left inside Connell. He had become a skin wrapped around the hollow feelings of loss. "What shall we do to protect the small ones we have left, let alone attempt to get back the ones who have gone? What can I do to see Henry again?" He collapsed into the pew behind him, tears flowing freely down onto his unshaven cheeks.

"We'll send out a hunting party." Flint said firmly. "Our best trackers and hunters. Warriors. They'll find the children." Several voices called their agreement, but not all.

"No, Flint. We can't do that." Gunther looked as remorseful as he sounded. "All that will bring is more loss to the town."

"Do you think our men unfit?!" Flint bristled. "They who travel the woods regularly, who take down wild beasts, will fail?" His rebuke began to stir the pride the crowd had for the village hunters.

Gunther chose his words carefully. This was an emotional topic, but nothing good would come of them making decisions clouded by more emotion. “I think that no one in the village has seen what is taking the children. I think that there are far more dangerous things in the forest than elk, or wolves. And I think that the potential of failing is too great. I want to find the best way of saving the children, preferably without anyone dying.”

“Then what is your suggestion, Gunther?” Connell still sat in the pew, unconcerned by his own tears. “Do you have one, or will you just criticize everyone else’s ideas?” The words stung Gunther more than if Connell had shouted and cursed him.

Worse was that Connell was right. Gunther had no plan of his own. It wasn't for lack of trying, either, he had been turning over every possibility he could conceive of, trying desperately to find the answer. But none was forthcoming.

In the awkward silence that followed Connell’s question, one more figure stood, joining Gunther and Flint as the only ones standing. While Gunther, Connell and Flint were all young men in their 30’s, this man was older, and everyone knew him on sight. When all eyes turned to him, Brenthor spoke.

“You are, all three, correct.” He spoke calmly, his deep, slow tone clear. “Flint is correct that we need to take action, and that those experienced in the forest should be the ones to take it. Gunther is correct that there is far too little we know about the creature, creatures, or indeed, possibly people who have perpetrated this horrendous act.” Brenthor turned to look directly at Connell, and the people huddled around him. The other parents of the five missing children, all sitting in close proximity to each other in solidarity and support, the grief flowing from them in a flood that was so strong it bordered on physical. “And, of course, Connell is also correct. A dragon would be the quickest, easiest way to deal with this problem.”

“That’s all well and good, Elder Brenthor,” Flint said respectfully, “but as Gunther said, we cannot force a dragon to take up residence and do our bidding.”

“No, that is true.” Brenthor said. “No one can force a dragon to do what they wish it to do against its will. There is no capturing a dragon. But, they can be reasoned with, persuaded, even bartered with. If we go and speak with a dragon, we could very well convince one to relocate to our Valley.”

“Well, if we knew where one was, then we could try.” Flint said. “But we don’t really have the time to search for one.”

“I think that there’s one living in a cave on Mount Crouso.” A new voice said. When they found the speaker, they saw that it was the tailor, Jenna. “The traveling merchant that sells me silk told me not a week ago.”

Connell perked up. “That’s only four days ride from here! And most of it on a Crown road, so the danger would be minimized.” The man looked ready to leave that moment, but once again, Gunther had to speak out.

“We can't simply leave the town unguarded for more than a week! And what do we have to offer a dragon?” He said. “I agree that this may be our best course, but we need to plan this out, we need to do all we can to make the trip a success.” He turned again to Brenthor. “How do we go about enticing a dragon to come live in the Valley?”

“A small group should travel to the dragon and open a discourse with them. They will tell them of our plight, and see what the dragon asks for in return for doing us this service. At the least, as Guardian they would have free choice of any prey and livestock the Valley has. From there, it will depend on the particular creature’s interests. If they are a dragon that prizes wealth, they could promise a tithe for each year they remain. If they prize culture, we can send couriers for art and books for them. It will be at the discretion of whomever we send to decide what we can promise, but it will also be their responsibility to see that obligation fulfilled when they return.”

“In the meantime,” Flint said, “The warriors should begin carefully patrolling the edges of the forest. They may be able to keep any others from being taken, and perhaps we may find some information on the perpetrators.”

Townspeople around the hall began to nod, the mere idea of a plan already boosting morale. Now that there was forward momentum, no one wanted to risk the potential of losing it, so the details were worked out quickly. Gunther, Flint, and two trappers familiar with the route would go to speak with the dragon, while the rest of the warriors would begin walking the perimeter of the town, looking for any clues they could find as well as guarding against the potential of another child being taken.

Gunther hurried to his home and packed the essentials. Food, warm clothing for the evenings, the thin bedroll he took when he traveled. Then he prepared his horse and went to meet Flint and his two trappers. When he arrived, he found Flint, the trapper Nikolous, and Connell. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

Connell was tightening the strap of his horse's saddle and didn't immediately respond. When his task was complete, he turned to look at Gunther. “The idea that we needed a dragon was mine. And it’s clear that a dragon agreeing to aid us is the only hope that Henry has, so I'm going with you. I don't trust anyone else to do everything it takes to get the dragon to come to the Valley, so I’m coming along to make sure that we succeed.”

Gunther wanted to argue. He could see all the ways that this could go badly. But he couldn't see how he could ever make Connell see sense. He looked at Flint, who merely shrugged. Resigned, he turned back to Connell. “Fine. I don’t think I could stop you if I tried. You’ve never listened to me before, no reason to suspect you’ll start now.”

Connell gave a faint grin, a shadow of the full one Gunther had seen so often as a child. “It’s a younger brother’s right to ignore his older brother.” Connell replied.

“Let’s try and avoid the sibling rivalry on this trip.” Gunther said. “I have a feeling we’re all going to need each other if we hope to succeed.”

“Agreed.”

And so the two brothers joined Flint and Nikolous, and began the journey to find a dragon.