Valtus

There weren't always dragons in the valley. It took us damn near a century to get our home back from men. Now here I was, perched on a mountaintop, overlooking beautiful Glass Valley while my family flew about, just below the clouds. I was finally at peace. The setting sun shone off the great lake in the middle of the valley. The lack of wind gave the lake a glass shine, which attributed to the gorgeous piece of land its' name. It was the most desirable region in all of the kingdom of Valtus, both for us and for the humans.

In order for one to fully understand what was poured into our fight to retrieve glass valley, I'll have to take you back to the days of King Egor. It was he who declared all dragons enemies of people, shortly after he had my brother Jax executed for burning an entire village to the ground. Jax always did have a temper, but I'd say he wasn't a good representative of the dragon race as a whole. I mean, what if we went on a burning spree every time a human took the life of a dragon? There would be no humans left. We've always been capable of wiping humankind from the face of the Earth, but our superior wisdom and compassion has stopped us from doing so. As a species humans have no compassion. They kill indiscriminately and without mercy. We only kill when we have to, although I'm speaking in general terms. My brother Jax was the exception to the rule. But he had his reasons. Two of his children had been hunted down for their hides, illegally I might add. The offenders were caught and simply paid a 5 percent tax on their owned lands. Jax came before the council and requested permission to take revenge. Sadly, he was denied. The elders saw the bigger picture and didn't want a war with the humans. So, Jax took matters into his own claws. Not only did he eat the entrails of those who killed his children, but he decimated the village they lived in, reducing to ash every building along with every living thing in the town, down to the last sheep. The entire Eastern region of Valtus was in uproar. We dragons were faced with a dilemma: Kill a good portion of mankind, or, leave Jax to his own devices. Despite our differences, we still respected humans as stewards of the Earth. The elders had me imprisoned , for which I am now grateful, knowing I'd go down fighting trying to save my brother from his fate. Once he was caught and his sentence carried out, they freed me. I was only 50 years old at the time, young and unwise to how much we needed men. It wasn't until much later when I saw the shortage of food that resulted from their absence that I understood. Although at the time, I had a bloodthirst for each and every one of them.

Shortly after Jax died, dragon after dragon went missing. It seemed the humans' need for revenge hadn't been satisfied with the life of my brother. I went before the council, begging them to set us loose on the humans. They refused. I still feel they ruled the way they did because most of them hadn't felt the losses personally, but I could be wrong.

At this point, we traveled in pairs, and only killed humans who were actively hunting us. But for every one of them we turned to ash, ten more rose up and declared themselves dragon killers. I requested another meeting with the council. As I waited for all of them to arrive on the 23rd deck of Mt. Fai, my patience grew thin. The meeting cave where the elders met was unreachable to humans. It was 10,000 feet above the Earth, with the last 3,000 feet being sheer vertical granite with an almost perfectly smooth surface. Just before the summit of the cliff was the 23rd deck, with each deck being comprised of caves. It was within these caves that most of my kind dwelt. But the cave in which I now waited impatiently was only permitted for elders of the council and those cleared to meet with them. The inside was shaped like a huge dome, tall and wide enough to fit 100 dragons. The council was made up of the 12 wisest and most experienced of us. To be on the council held strict guidelines:

1. No dragon less than 100 years of age may preside.

2. All elders must be fathers or mothers of fathers or mothers.

3. An elder must have fought in no less than 2 wars, having not been charged with unnecessary brutality.

4. An elder must have displayed several decades of compassion, wisdom, restraint and mercy, these qualities being attested to by no less than 10 dragons outside their immediate family.

As each elder entered and took their position around me, they all gave me a tiresome look that said they were weary of seeing me. But, as my father Fedos was one of the 12, my constant requests to meet were granted. Their yellow eyes glared upon me in silence. After a long while, I was the first to speak,

"Council. You may not be aware of my purpose here. I..." I was immediately interrupted by Cesta, who was grandmother to my wife Lia,

"Yes Zarean, we are aware. And if you have come to repeat your previous request, surely you have enough wisdom to know our answer will remain unchanged."

"I do ma'am." I quickly answered. "But it is not simple warfare that I propose. I have learned our great need for the humans, and I agree that making them extinct would lead to our own destruction. I see that now. No. What I propose..." I took a deep breathe before continuing, "...is a campaign of terror."

My father quickly jumped in, "Terror?" He asked, in a disappointed tone. "Please tell us what you mean son." I did my best to maintain a posture of respect,

"I mean, sir, that if we cannot kill the humans, then perhaps we can frighten them into submission. Every time we kill one of them, we leave nothing but ash. And the dead take their tales of suffering with them to the grave. Mere piles of soot will not instill the fear we need to make the humans submit." My father's eyes met mine before he spoke,

"So what do you propose Zarean?" I stared straight back at him and answered,

"I propose brutality." Gasps filled the cave as I said the word. My Father snapped back,

"No dragon charged with brutality may ever sit on the council, furthermore..." I cut him off,

"I don't want to be an elder! And father, you left out the word 'unnecessary'. I believe brutality to be necessary in this case." I exhaled a little fire before I continued, "If we're going to kill those who attack us either way, we may as well let their deaths be worth something to us. If we leave half-dead , dismembered, screaming bodies in the middle of their villages, those who have not yet joined forces against us will think twice." Murmurs of 'No, no no.' and shaking heads followed my monologue. Fire seeped between my teeth. My eyes were red with rage. I could not hide my personal blood lust. My father saw it clearly and responded,

"Zarean, I know losing Jax has cut you deeply. It has wounded me even more so. But we do not exist to satisfy your need for blood. Your plan would make us monsters in the eyes of all creatures. It is the world seeing us as monsters that has led to this in the first place. Let me be the first to deny your request." My father raised his right wing, indicating his opposition to my proposal. He looked to the council, "Opposed?" 11 wings were raised in response. I growled in protest,

"Then how do you, oh wise ones, imagine you'll stop the humans? Will you talk and plead and negotiate until we are in subjection to them? Shall they be our masters?" Silence. Either they had no plan, or wished to hide their plan from me. I repeated my question. The 12 whispered in each others' ears. I overheard my father say,

''Yes, yes tell him. We don't need more murders, and I don't want to lose another son.'' With that, they revealed their intentions. Cesta laid out the particulars,

"You are not to act until ordered to do so! Understood?" I nodded hesitantly. She continued, "We plan to abduct their children. Abduct, not harm. After each attack on one of ours, one child will go missing. We shall keep them safe, well-fed, and treat them with honor. This display of our power, we believe, will lead to their surrender. At that point the children will be returned safely to them." A long pause followed as I pondered this plan. The good news is that they were right. The humans would most certainly surrender. Or so I thought at the time. What I didn't like is that it meant I would not get my fill of the blood of these dragon-murdering savages. Knowing that obedience was preferable to rebellion in this case, I agreed to restrain myself and follow their instructions. But, regardless of my concession, I still harbored an incurable hatred that could only be quenched with human death. Although the plan seemed wise and would result in the least amount of bloodshed, our mistake was grossly underestimating what lengths humans would go to for the sake of their children.