Titan's Rest

PROLOGUE- TITAN’S REST

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley,” complained grandfather. “I remember, back in my day, when a shepherd could let his sheep out into the hills to graze all the while taking a good nap!”

Seren exchanged an amused look with her brother, Doran. Every time they helped their grandfather, he would give the same lecture. Seren felt like she knew everything he would say, word for word. She and Doran probably could repeat the whole monologue if you asked them.

“Tell us more, grandpops,” said Seren, indulgently but with an affectionate smile.

“Well, I’ll tell you, when I was your age, we didn’t have to deal with no flying lizards. Wolves, bears, or perhaps the occasional drought… sure! But dragons? No! The children would run down to the woods unsupervised, searching for fairies. I bet you can’t even imagine that, can you?”

Doran shook his head dutifully.

“There’s wide agreement that the Gods are punishing us, but there’s no agreement as to why they are punishing us. Me? Well, I’m simply of the opinion that the Dragon decided to settle here because there are fat cows and dumb sheep. And no one here knows how to fight. The Gods have nothing to do with it.”

They were almost back at the house. Doran and Seren were carrying most of the wool, and they were getting tired. Seren asked if they could take a break, right where there was a splendid view of the Howling Peaks. From this vantage point, they could see most of the Verdant Valley stretching in front of them. There were few trees; just rolling green hills and the famous Viridian, the river that crossed right in the middle of the valley. Grandfather agreed. Both Seren and Doran instantly fell to the ground with sighs of relief.

“Maybe the Dragon decided to settle here because it’s so beautiful,” said Seren, looking at the Viridian. “Or perhaps because he wants some silence.”

“I think we need a knight to take care of him,” said Doran.

“Why don’t you volunteer?” asked Seren sardonically. Doran’s face turned red.

“I don’t mean myself and you know it, Seren. But it’s like grandfather said: we don’t ever defend ourselves, so no wonder the Dragon feels like he can stay here.”

“Only a fool disturbs a dragon.” She replied. “Besides, he keeps mostly to himself. Wiser for us to leave him be.”

The old man scoffed at that. “Easy for you townsfolk to say. Us farmers who live on the rim have a to deal with his incessant hunger.”

“See?” Said Doran. But the old man wanted to make it perfectly clear that he wasn’t on Doran’s side either.

“You fool, have you ever even seen the Dragon?” Doran went quiet. “I thought not. There is no way a single Human could kill him. His wingspan alone can cover the entirety of our town. I told you this already, boy. Your sister is right. There isn’t anything we can do, even if everyone inside this pathetic village joined forces. The fairytales that you read, boy, refer only to young dragons.” He then pointed at the highest mountain in the Howling Peaks, Titan’s Rest. The icy behemoth towered above its puny sisters, its presence looming ominously over the entirety of the valley. It was there that the Dragon had made its den, but the mountain required no dragon to instill fear into any mortal heart.

“The bastard who sleeps there is ancient. And dragons my boy, the older they are, the bigger they get. Oh, and meaner.” He made sure he emphasized the last word.

“The same as Humans then,” said Seren, and Doran snickered at that. The old man sighed, exasperated.

“Laugh away. But this is no laughing matter. If for whatever reason the old beast feels like turning its attention to our miserable town, he could simply fly out of his home and turn the entire world that you know into ash. Ha. Go to sleep thinking about that.”

Despite grandfather’s words, neither Seren nor Doran were too afraid. They had lived underneath the shadow of Titan’s Rest for their entire lives, and not once had they seen the Dragon. They knew it existed of course; it was common knowledge. The older generation had all witnessed him. However, life went on. The Dragon did not seem to care for the village, so it allowed them to live their lives in relative peace. For fifty years, this had been the case. As long as we don’t bother him, he won’t bother us, Seren had thought. They had never seen the Dragon leave the peak, yet farmers who lived closer to the mountains would sometimes claim to catch a glimpse of the fearsome creature. They all had a similar attitude as grandfather; the mere sight of the Dragon seemed to somewhat traumatize them. It was an uncommon sight though, even for the farmers and shepherds. The most common guess was that the Dragon exited from the other side of the Mountain, which is why no one in the village witnessed him leave, despite having a partial view of Titan’s Rest.

Seren sometimes wondered if they would live their entire lives like this, without even seeing the Dragon. She hoped one day she would leave the sleepy village, and explore the world, outside the Valley, beyond the Mountains and the Hinterlands. See the great cities in the Inner Empire. She and Doran were even saving coin to move. She dared to have all these dreams, but she had already made peace with the fact that the Dragon did not belong in any of these dreams. When she had been younger, she had been fascinated by the Dragon and his home on Titan’s Rest, but now she had matured. It was probably for the best too. If you had a massive Dragon as your neighbor, you don’t go complaining that it’s ignoring you. There were other rumors within the town that the Dragon was dying. She hoped that was not the case. She did not know why, but the thought made her sad.

So, life would go on. They returned to the town, unimpressed and unchanged by their conversation with their grandfather, eager to sell the wool and make some coin. As they wandered into the town, Seren found herself looking at the peak of Titan’s Rest, which was barely visible amidst the clouds and the surrounding peaks. It was quite a sight, a waning gibbous yellow moon shone right above it in the twilight sky. The deep, dark blue carried the limitless promise of the night. Something of her spirit that remained from her childhood days was briefly kindled, yet the feeling instantly went away as she turned to follow her brother into the comforting cacophony of the town. This might have been the last time she looked towards the mountain with true wonder. The Dragon was becoming less and less real as the seasons went by, and each time her interest was rekindled, it soon died like a candle in winter’s wind. When it returned, it returned weaker than before. Her vision of the future would be living out her entire life as a traveling merchant with her brother, eventually to find a husband in the capital city and settle, and maybe, one day, even tell her children of the folklore of her old town. This is what would have happened too, if a strange visitor hadn’t come upon the town that night.

……

Professor Azorin found himself once again questioning if this whole affair had not been a fool’s errand. He had traveled in these muddy and poorly maintained roads for days, tirelessly. He missed the comforts of the Royal Academy of Elderan. Now, he was at the very outskirts of the Empire, in the Hinterlands. His bones were achy. He was too old for this. It’s unexplored they said. Well, maybe there’s a reason why it’s unexplored. There is nothing interesting here. I could be in the floating city of New Praza, or the desert oasis of Palmara instead.

Truth be told, he still preferred the dusty libraries of the Academy. He was in a bad mood when the road took him into the valley, through the Wuthering Pass, and he beheld the gorgeous scenery in front of him. He looked at the reason why he was here: Titan’s Rest. Could it be true? Could the last Dragon really be here? He only had dealt with bones and fossils… of course there were rumors that dragons still lived in the quieter corners of the world. Sometimes scholars followed these leads, though they never led anywhere.

He patted his mule, and turned down the road. Scattered among the ridges and hills were old ruins, supposedly built by the Elves or Fairies who lived here before Humans. My archeology friends would be stunned by this. Perhaps this was not such a fool’s errand after all. He had begun to shiver from the cold, as the sun set, and he could hear the song of the wolves from the mountain forests. In his long journey, never had the sound been so raw, never had their symphony been so chilling. The wolves were bolder in these parts.

“Faster, Oldhoof!” he said. He crossed the bridge into the town, just as it began pouring rain. Welcome to Ashford, the sign said. Good, they still name their towns here in this land forsaken by the Gods. The sky was split into two by lightning. The rumbling of thunder soon followed. He wasted no time, but headed directly to the nearest inn, the Emerald Mermaid. Not even a Dragon titled name? Not a good sign. He entered the inn.

The sound of the rain ceased and was instantly replaced by joyful music, raucous laughter and the sounds of other festivities. Within the inn, there was no sign that a furious storm raged outside. The place was quite full and lively. Arm wrestling, dancing and games were all happening at once. Mostly there were locals, but he could see there were other travelers too. He took a seat in front of the bar. He took out his map and put on his monocle, squinting to see where exactly he was.

“The Verdant Valley.”

“What can I get you outsider?” asked the innkeeper.

That obvious huh? He thought. What he wanted was wine, but he did not want to seem like a pompous snobbish outsider.

“Give me a porter, will you?” he asked. The bartender gave him a curt nod and gestured for his young daughter to go get it.

“Now, my good sir,” said the Professor hurriedly, before the bartender went away. “May I ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

“I have heard rumors that a dragon lives near these lands.” He waited eagerly for the bartender.

“Oh yes. In Titan’s Rest.”

The Professor was shocked at the casual tone of the bartender.

“So, you have seen it?”

“No, I haven’t.”

The Professor went silent, observing the bartender. Perhaps he was mocking him? “But do you believe it’s real?”

The bartender seemed confused by the question. “Of course, it’s real.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s common knowledge.”

The Professor sighed. Perhaps this is a dead end after all.

“Has anyone seen it?”

“Oh yes. If you are older than fifty-three you probably seen it. Hey, Fiona.” A bigger woman who was sitting near them, clearly drunk, turned to face them.

“He’s asking about the Dragon. You’ve seen it, aye?”

“Course I did,” she said. “You already know that nitwit.”

If this was a ruse, it was a good one. The Professor was intrigued. He got up and leaned forward.

“You’ve seen the Dragon?”

“I was but a young lass, but I’ve seen it all right. Not a sight you forget, no… I may be forgettin’ things nowadays, but not that day… aye, you’ve read the stories, haven’t you? It isn’t like that. The stories could never do the true thing justice.”

A balding one- eyed man overheard the conversation and joined them. “Another outsider asking about the dragons?”

“You’ve seen it too?” asked the Professor.

“It’s real all right. It flew right above us, covering all of Ashford in shadow. The very ground seemed to reverberate from the force of its wings flapping,” he said. “I tell you, you have not known fear until your eyes beheld that. Until your bones felt that. All my senses were assaulted. I may have one eye, but I have seen more than you ever will.”

Well, let’s remedy that, shall we? “Yes, we already heard the story Old Jakers!” a woman shouted.

“The Professor was asking about it!” hissed Jakers.

“Is there a road towards the mountain?” he asked. Fiona started laughing. Jakers was confused. The question seemed so ludicrous that he could not comprehend it.

“What?”

“The Inlander wants to climb Titan’s Rest!” She was crying out of laughter, and even the innkeeper began laughing. Indeed, everyone within earshot was laughing. Except old Jakers. His voice was cold.

“If ye knew what was best for ye, you’d turn back,” he said softly. It was unnerving. “Titan’s Rest is better left alone. Undisturbed.”

“I only mean…”

“You are an adventure seeker? I care not,” said Jakers firmly. “It is not just your safety at stake. It is all of the Verdant Valley. We don’t bother him, he doesn’t bother us. That’s how it’s been. Always will be.”

“You mistake, I’m no hunter.” He went on. “I’m a scholar. I simply mean to study it.”

“Ha, what are you going to do? Go in the cavern and take notes?” asked Jakers. “Heed me! Do not go up there!” He sounded afraid. His voice was almost urgent. The others caught his mood too. The merriment had died down.

“Of course not,” he said, scared. He did not need to make enemies of the townsfolk. “If you are correct, I would never go poking around where a Dragon slumbers.”

“I am correct,” he spoke. “Please. We’ve had fools before, wanting to go up there. None come back. Many might have died from the mountain rather than the monster. But I care not. As long as it stays there. Do not go, or you will doom yourself, and perhaps… perhaps even doom us all.”

“I won’t! I swear!” He immediately regretted making the promise. The Hinterlanders took oaths very seriously. This seemed to have calmed Jakers though. He grinned, revealing some missing teeth.

“Very good. I knew a man of education would see reason. I always tell them, the folk at the Royal Academy know their stuff! Thanks. Now I shall go to sleep. This talk has stirred in me an old anxiety, one that only my bed will alleviate.” He got up and some folk helped him out. He was clearly a man of respect in this village.

The barmaid poured him his drink. Took you long enough. He gulped it down. How was he going to get him any help here? Everyone here seemed afraid of getting close Titan’s Rest. He signaled for the bartender again.

“Hey, do you know perchance of any guide that could help me map around this region? I have noticed that the maps here are woefully outdated. You know, better maps would lead to better commerce,” he said. The bartender seemed to ponder and acknowledge that. The barmaid once again neared them, and there was a twinkle in her eyes at the mention of a guide.

“My boy Doran is as good of a guide as you’ll get in these parts.”

“More beer?” she asked.

“Sure…” he said, as she began pouring him ale (which he had not even asked for). “That’s settled then. Tomorrow, you can have him accompany me. I leave at noon.”

“Beware,” the bartender said solemnly. “The outskirts are dangerous. The folk who live there are half mad, and the wolves are ferocious… and there are still Dragon sightings there.” Fascinating. He thought. Though if the folk were half mad, were they believable as witnesses?

He went to his room, and began reading everything he knew about dragons.

…..

Seren could not sleep. When she finally managed to sleep, she dreamt of dragons, and woke up with a start. She was sweating. Why did father send my brother to guide him and not me? She was jealous. She had dealt with wolves before. Besides. Her old dreams haunted her. She walked out on the balcony, in the night. The rain was dying down, and everything seemed peaceful. Except that the Mountain beckoned to her.

She walked to the Professors room in the inn. My father would not be happy that I’m doing this… She thought, but she knocked on the door nonetheless. The Professor opened the door, clearly surprised to have someone knocking on his door this late hour. He had his night robes on, but he also had a monocle and a parchment. He had not been asleep.

“Forgive me sir,” she said. “I know it is very late, but I could not help but overhear that you were in need of a guide.” He recognized her.

“And I was provided one.” He responded, cautiously. He seemed to be curious though.

“You want to go up the Rest, don’t you?” He did not respond immediately. This confirmed her suspicions. She had been watching him closely. It was obvious that he was obsessed with finding the Dragon. “You think my brother will help you go there? And if you find the Dragon, tell me, what shall you do?”

“What do you want?”

“To help you go up there,” she responded. “I’m one of the only villagers who would be willing to do this, and one of the very few somewhat qualified… I have experience trekking in these parts, I often visit my grandfather who wanders closer to the Titan’s Rest than anyone. I can help you get up there.” She was half lying though. She had no idea how to scale the mountain.

“For what?”

“Gold. You seem rich enough.”

“How much?”

“We can talk prices later.”

“You seem eager to help,” he said, suspiciously.

“I suppose I’m like you,” she said. “A part of me wants to see him with my own eyes. Or her. Another part of me thinks that as soon as I get you there, I’ll turn back.”

“Of course…” he said. “I would not ask you to risk your life.”

“Oh, I’m already risking my life,” she said. “Just like you are risking yours.”

……

The next morning Doran was waiting at the bridge, where he was supposed to meet the Professor. He was on a horse, with his longbow ready, a green hood, and his longer hair tied back. The professor was accompanied by his mule.

“Ready?” He asked.

“We are waiting for the girl.”

This was news to Doran. Riding towards them was Seren, under a blue hood, with her own bow. Her hair was tied in a long braid. Doran narrowed his eyes. He knew his sister better than anyone, and he knew that this had not been father’s idea. She approached him herself, didn’t she?

“You hungry for adventure sister?” he asked.

“I can’t let you have all the fun,” she said.

“Why don’t we begin by showing him where our grandfather lives, by the foothills of the mountain?” he asked. Doran seemed slightly suspicious that there was something about this whole affair that he had not been privy to, but he seemed to shrug it off.

“Let’s go then. Stay alert. The Hinterlands are merciless to the unadaptable.” With that he rode forward. Suddenly coming from the road ahead the Professor felt the icy cold blast of the mountain wind. He had to hold on to his books. I should have packed more lightly… The girl was looking at him, with an amused smirk.

“He is just being dramatic,” she said. Azorin let out a sigh of relief. “Yet he is correct I’m afraid,” she said, and with that she rode on. The Professor found himself questioning this whole quest. Was he riding to his death? What had he been thinking? What was his plan after all? He had studied in the Academy his whole life. Only when he got into his late forties did he realize that the books had begun to bore him, and he began questioning all his choices. Working with the bones of extinct creatures and reading about dead men who had lived their lives to the fullest, all the while watching his students and colleagues travel…it had been too much for him to bear. Not until his friend had died that he was struck with the epiphany: he too was growing old, and he had lived his entire life in the Academy. Now, though, he was being tested. He was afraid, and he wanted nothing more than to run back towards the Academy. No. You have made it this far. There is no turning back. As if to respond to him, he felt another blast of the gale. It was either goading him, or welcoming him. This time he embraced it. He looked up at somber Titan’s Rest, where apparently a Dragon was sleeping at this very moment, and whispered:

“Onward, Oldhoof.”