The Ways of Wind and Fire

The Ways of Wind and Fire

“There weren't always dragons in the valley.” That is what my father would tell me. That's to say if there even are dragons. Every now and then I’d ask if I would ever meet one. And he would almost always say “you will, soon”. I don't know what “soon” means in his world, but it must mean a hundred years from now. I have just turned nineteen and still never met one. Or even see one flying in the distance. My father is getting old, and I fear I may never get the chance. I would travel myself, but I have never been too far from home. Only to the edge of the old forest, that my father has named Fildegarde. We live in an open plain that bordered the mountain range called Varda, it mainly consisted of long green grass and Buffalo. The rolling hills went on forever eastward, making the sunrise uncontested. To the south, it was barred off by a river and a town named Rinathrin. The North is unknown to me, I was always told to veer away from it. At night I see a dim light beyond the horizon.

My grandparents built this house, they once lived in the mountains but were forced out some time ago when a forest fire took hold. So they built a new house just outside of Fildegarde forest so that it wasn't much of a worry. “What about fires here in the plains?” I would ask my father. He replied with something like “we get too much rain for the grass to be dry and the soil to crack so there is no fear of fire.” I have always been confused with this answer because my grandparent's old house was only a day's walk away, not far enough for there to be much of a difference water-wise. I don't believe the fire was a natural occurrence. But my father likes to remind me to not worry about things we will never change.

Today is a cloudy day, a darker grey in the clouds suggesting it could rain, or not, it hasn't made up its mind it seems. Winter was just ending so it was still a little cold out. I spent most of my days by the fire, but today I just felt the need to go sit outside. Surrounding the house is a small bunch of tall trees, wide enough to rest against. Though the branches are too high to climb. My favorite tree was the one by the front door, the branches hung lower than the other trees and had a wider coverage making it act more like an umbrella. The tree was still a little ways away from the door, it was just that it was the closest. It sat on the end of the hill that the house rested on. This is where I sat, watching my father come along the dirt path back home. He went to Rinathrin for some bread and buffalo meat. Out here we can't be too picky and are just happy we can eat. My father works hard so that I don't have to.

Fildegarde (Fill-di-guard)

Rinathrin (Rin-ath-rin)

Varda (The current homeland of the Dragons. Their ancestors resided in Mt. Rendir)

I thought about many things in my free time, which was all the time. Why haven't we been anywhere? Why can't I get a job? But the one that most lingered in my mind was, where are all the dragon's father speaks of? As a little kid, he’d tell me of his journey to Mt. Rendir with my grandfather. “Our journey was hard and long” he’d say pointing to a very large and tall mountain to the West as we sat under the tree by the front door. Past Fildegarde and past whatever lies beyond that. “Seasons passed from the frozen river to Autumn leaf before we arrived at its summit. About halfway to Mt. Rendir, we had met the wise men in the monastery. Though it was more like a large treehouse overlooking the forest. They played strange instruments and spoke highly of the wilderness, claiming to have been invited by the forest to help protect it.”

“I saw the darkest roots of the old forest and coldest rivers only salmon dare swim. In the morning, the most wondrous sunrise one could see. The stars at night shined bright as the moon and the wind was patient as we crossed high peaks.” He’d always pause at this moment, looking up as if remembering those days, then he’d return and continue. “Not to say it was without its dangers, it was dangerous to walk in the old forest. For example, Valarian Cave Spiders dwell in the darkness. Their bodies are as big as your hand, and legs as long as your wrist to your elbow. And they always come in bunches of 5 or 6. I hated that place, the Lowlands of Varda.” Another silence, I always shivered at the description of the spiders. I can't imagine having to be around one of those. “One day, when trekking through the summer trees, I saw one. I saw a dragon, its wings large and grand, it was dark grey, almost black. Their scales shone in the sunlight as it turned and disappeared behind a mountain far off.”

A gust of wind brought me back from my memories. I looked up and saw that my father was almost home. Good thing too, because I think the clouds made up their mind. Wondrous it was the sky's impact on the environment around me. Even just the presence of clouds brings upon a more quiet feeling than clear days. The chilly air and the pick-up of the wind let me know a great force of nature is returning. It's probably going to be a long night if my intuition has anything to say. I saw my father come up the hill and ran to greet him, while I enjoy my solitude I greatly enjoy having someone around as well. He was carrying a large sack over his right shoulder, my guess is that it was food for the week. “Belliran, could you help me with this thing?” His head motioning to the sack. And yes my name is Belliran. My mother named me before she passed away from childbirth. My father is named Erawin, after the moon.

We had gotten inside right as the rain really started up, and we sat down in the two chairs facing the fireplace. The fireplace was flanked by a window on each side. with dark blue curtains. "Belliran, I believe you are ready to go to Mt. Rendir with me, for too long you have waited around I'd say." The rain was pouring now, the clouds so dark it appeared night had fallen early. I got up and started the fire and threw up a dresser that had sat next to the front door to keep it from caving in. We left the window curtains open because we enjoyed watching the rain, just didn't like being covered in it.

"Belliran, have I ever told you why we must go to Mt. Rendir?" Father questioned me. "To honor our ancestors by journeying through their hardships, traveling far from home in hope of finding haven" I replied. This is what I've always been told. He nodded, staring at the fire. "Yes that is part of it, but there is something I have not told you, as it is vitally important to know." father continued. "Then what must you tell me? So close to our departure." I returned. Father opened his mouth but refrained from speaking. He sighed and said something along the lines of "another time."

We sat staring outside, at the falling rain. Watching the mountains and forest below. suddenly there was a loud roar and a lightning strike atop a mountain though I cannot discern which one it was. I looked over at my father confused. He looked horrified. I asked him what was wrong but all he did was mutter a simple, short poem.

In silent sleep be it there lie

In frozen cloud above the sky

The ways of wind and fire