The Titan in the Vale

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. In fact, it had been generations since the last dragon had come in contact with any humanoid being. The dragons had been brought to the Valley by greed and selfishness, and with them had come the destruction of all that had once called the Valley home.

Now, where a sprawling city had once thrived, the great scaled beasts made their nests among the burnt out ruins of what, not long ago, had been home to thousands. A cautionary tale for those who sought relics that did not belong to them, yet not one that stopped all who would sacrifice anything to hold the power held by the winged serpents.

The pursuit of immortality, riches and the promise of ultimate control was enough to drive people to do insane things, even trying to bargain with or slay the last remaining dragons. No matter how many others fell in the wake of the mighty beasts, there would always be some other heedless person waiting out there to take their place. Each of them thought they were special, and that they would be the one to finish it. A fool's errand.

That was exactly what Tanelia had been telling her childhood friend Vaeril for the past few years, from the moment he had announced his intentions. Hiding behind a false, yet noble sounding cause, the red haired elf had declared he was gathering a band of only the most brave of their clan who would stand against the dragons and finally reclaim relics that had been stolen from their ancestors centuries ago.

Tanelia knew it would mean the death of anyone who followed him in this crusade, and she had hoped that the others in the clan would be smart enough to realize the same. To her dismay, several others chose to follow him, wrapped up in the idea of unattainable glory and heroics.

Had they not witnessed the death in the Valley? A fate that lay before all of them if the band of delusional elves angered the dragons.

Reason could not reach them, despite many attempts from not only Tanelia, but others in the clan as well. Vaeril was far too wrapped up in his new acclaim as leader of this war band, and the others far too blinded by his flashy words and glorious promises. He had always had a charisma about him that had gotten him in trouble in the past. Tanelia had never thought it would get him into this kind of trouble.

Months had passed since Vaeril had first announced to the clan that he would be undertaking this task, and the warrior band that had formed around him had been training. Fruitlessly, if you asked anyone outside of their ranks. And now, they were ready to set off, to claim back their history from the scaled beasts, and to win glory for themselves and their clan.

Few had gathered to see them off, most of the clan turning their backs on the elves that they now considered outcasts. Instead attention was turned to packing up, to moving on so that they could be long gone from this area before the mad group of fighters could bring death upon them all.

Tanelia met the warriors in the field outside of their settlement, where many had been waiting, hopeful that family and friends might see them off, and most had been disappointed.

But she could not live with herself if she did not bid farewell to not only her friend who was leading such a foolish endeavor, but also her younger brother who had joined, despite desperate pleading from the rest of his family.

She made her way through the group, greeting each of them solemnly until she arrived at the spot where her friend and her brother both stood. She could see the determination in their gazes, both truly believing that they would accomplish what they set out to do. What so many others had failed to do.

For a while, the three of them stood there silently, the sound of the gentle breeze rustling nearby foliage mingled with the soft chatter of the gathered warriors as they steeled their nerves for the journey ahead.

But none of that felt like it truly existed for Tanelia. At the moment, it was just her, Vaeril and her younger brother Amrynn stood in the field where they had once played as children.

“San’thael.” Tanelia spoke, breaking the silence between the three of them. Her words were an ancient wish for safe return, spoken for generations by those who stayed back while warriors marched to battle.

“Take care of Windrunner until I return.” Vaeril replied, holding his hand out for Tanelia. She had to bite back a laugh, it was just like him to think more about his horse than he did about the inevitable death he was about to face.

“I will.” She spoke back, reaching her hand out to grab his forearm as he did hers. The touch was broken, and she stepped forward to hug her brother, though no words were shared. She had done everything she could to dissuade him from going, but he had always had a mind set on glory. When he was still a small boy, he had declared that one day bards would sing grand songs about him. How he had been teased by his peers and siblings for that one.

Her little brother gave her a smile, no doubt meant to reassure her, but instead it merely made her heart sink lower than it already had.

And with that, Vaeril whistled for the warriors attention, and they turned their backs on the village, heading off to what they all thought would be a legendary victory. Talking jovially as they set off across the field and eventually into the forests that would take them off towards the distant Valley where the dragons lie, unaware of the group that now headed to face them.

Tanelia watched with a heavy heart and a somber look on her face, running their names through her mind, making sure to account for each elf that slowly disappeared into the distance.

“Lest their memories be forgotten.” She muttered to herself, the breeze picking up just a bit, embracing her in the summer warmth as if it were giving her a reassuring hug. But all she could smell on the breeze was the blood and ash that was soon to come at the wake of her friend's delusion.