Trial by Fire

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. It was a fact that I had been reminded of nearly every day, a fact that I did not need reminding. I am not too young to recall living in the Valley before it was even called the Valley of Ash. It was not quite that long ago. Nor am I too naïve to not know how much we lost that day.

We heard them before we saw them. Loud and terrible roars reverberated throughout the valley, causing even the bravest to tremble and recoil in fear. The monstrous howls were shortly followed by a steady whooshing beat. And just as the cries of the first cut off to draw new breath, a deeper, more guttural roar drowned out all sound for a solid minute. That roar was the first indication that there had been more than one beast hunting the valley and had sufficiently terrified every living creature that called the Valley home.

Panic followed. The people of the Valley scattered like mice, hurling themselves in different directions at full sprint, knocking each other down with indifference. Goosebumps washed across my younger self for several moments as fear created a synthetic chill in the air that was, to my senses, indistinguishable from Winter’s eve. Whether it was the mounting fear or the freezing sensation, I did not know, but I was paralyzed. In hindsight, I likely would not have fared well running into the crowds of people anyway, but it does still weigh on me.

I was still looking up when my rescuer found me and hurled me over his shoulder. I hadn’t even recognized him until later. I continued looking back and upwards as my savior ran forward which was challenging, bobbing up and down with each footfall. As we fled, the synchronized beating and shrieks of terror grew louder before being drowned out again by new bestial roars. It was then that I saw the silhouette of the first creature in the clouds. And no sooner had the creature burst from its veil had a second, larger, and much more menacing one followed.

The second, however, had taken to an ascent which nearly eclipsed the sun with a spread of its massive leathery wings. It did not hover for long, though. As it descended, the sun gleamed off the golden scales of both him and his mate. And they both flew fast into the earth with the force of a meteor, but with practiced grace, landing firmly on their feet beside one another. The impact was loud, and the earth yielded to the two titans. They towered over everything in the valley and a gust of wind, debris, and a wave of creatures fled from their massive forms.

On landing, the two beasts whipped their heads back and forth, sweeping the valley and inhaling shallow breaths, I imagined for ones so large. My rescuer had taken to fleeing the valley by way of the hillside rather than following the length of the valley. The path would be shorter, but came with the risk of a higher elevation, possibly drawing attention to ourselves. My attention, however, had gone undeterred. The two were clearly looking for something or someone. And it grew more and more apparent that they were not about to wait a moment longer peaceably.

The smaller of the two, the female I assumed, arched back her neck with an inhaled breath before thrusting her maw forward, bathing the valley in flames as she circled her mate to maximize the devastation of her first breath. The nearest homes and trees disintegrated in that crescent of fire. Likewise, the male let out a roar and, completing the circle motion that the other had begun, he had turned half of the valley into ash in an instant. His flames stretched further than the other dragon, but her rage was no less. And while she continued blanketing the valley in fire, he stared out into the flames.

Even from the distance that my savior had put between us, the heat from the flames had caused my chill to vanish. I sweat like I had never known before, and from the smell hitting my senses, I was not alone. I couldn’t say how much of it was from the heat and how much was due to sheer fright. But through the dancing flames, I had a clear view of the larger dragon’s face, and his eyes were filled with hate and determination. His gaze pierced through me and into my heart. I felt pain that wasn’t my own and fear that was.

They made no attempt to catch up to everyone; though, I had little trouble imagining that they were fully equipped to encircle the surviving villagers. The moments up to our eventual escape from the valley had been horrific in their own right and I struggle to think about the gruesome details even now. Instead, the two hung their heads low like hounds and began to search the valley more thoroughly. And that was the last image I had of the two before we finally reached the other side of the hill line.

I don’t know if I would describe it as relief exactly, but I was glad in part to have the heat of the flames and the two nightmare-inducing beasts on the other side. Directing my attention to my current situation, however, I turned to see that it had been my grandfather carrying me down the hill. I knew he had been strong for his age, but it wasn’t until I realized that he hadn’t stopped to catch his breath that I realized just how strong. Allowing him to go on without wasting valuable breath on me, I didn’t distract him. I just looked back and waited to see either fire or a golden dragon come over the horizon, but neither did.

I must have been exhausted because shortly thereafter I had slipped into unconsciousness, something I would not have thought possible on the run. I had no way of knowing whether he had taken care not to wake me intentionally, but when I eventually opened my eyes, we had been near a stream. We were both resting, and night had fallen. There was no fire to keep us warm, likely to avoid drawing unwanted attention, but nor was my grandfather asleep.

He had found a spot near a tree line for cover, but within reach of fresh water. As I looked him over in the moonlight, he appeared vigilant. His breaths were steadfast, and he bore no injury that I could see. Sensing my stirrings, he turned to face me, and moonlight must have betrayed me because with the tears that filled my eyes, he embraced me with a hug only a grandpa could give. “You’re alright. You’re alright,” he repeated.

My nightmare had been a mirror of that day. And the gaze that that dragon had cast over the valley had been accusatory. It was a feeling that I could not escape even in unconsciousness. And even with the mix of emotions I sensed from the creature, anger, pain, and loathing, I was sure of one thing. Something had clearly earned his ire and the refugees we’ve met since that day have had no compunction about reminding me, be it with rocks or otherwise, that it was my very own grandfather who had forever changed the valley.