We were wrong

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Or so we thought.

Ren watched a deep, seaweed green dragon slip below the perfectly clear surface of the river like a ribbon of green. High above, another water dragon was twisting gracefully through the air weaving clouds together like a skilled seamstress would sew a robe. The crops were in need of rain after the week of heat that had settled in the valley and turned it into an oven.

A storm dragon joined the rain dragon and a gust of wind raised goosebumps on her skin as it rapidly cooled the sweat that had been running down her neck.

Hurrying towards the hut she called home just outside the village she made it inside just as the first drops began to fall gently. Sitting near the door with the straw curtain tied to the side so she could see out and enjoy the cool, fresh air, Ren busied herself with the bamboo she had brought home. Her fingers flew almost without conscious thought, weaving the strips together into a basket she could sell while her mind turned over the story she had heard as a child.

It was a story every child of the valley knew by heart.

The legends said that there used to be an entrance to the world of the yokai somewhere in the valley. The presence of the demons had poisoned the land until nothing would grow. Many would kill humans for sport and cause all manner of trouble for them. The demons thrived on conflict. They did everything they could to encourage men to fight each other for fame and glory and power. The demons were clever but one day their greed exceeded their control.

They dominated the area where the entrance to their world lay hidden and most creatures knew to stay away. But one day a young rain dragon became curious and wandered too close. Drunk on a recent victory, the demons attacked the young dragon and killed her. Too late, they realized their mistake. For she was the daughter of the dragon king. Panicked for they knew that they had just brought the wrath of the dragons upon themselves, they did what demons do best. They lied.

They tricked the dragons into thinking that the humans had killed her. It was the beginning of a long, bloody war between the two races. The war only ended with the interference of a young dragon who had always been curious of humans. He developed a bond with a human girl and learned the truth. He was able to get through to his king. Overcome with remorse for what they had done, the dragon king vowed that they would protect humans from the demons from that day on as repentance for what they had done in their grief and anger.

Humans have a remarkable ability to be very selective with the history we remember. And as stories spread, facts change and are exaggerated until fact and fiction are difficult or impossible to tell apart. And everyone remembers the version of the story they prefer. Dragons are a perfect example. In the West, they’re fire-breathing monsters who should be killed on sight. Beasts who can bring nothing but death and destruction. In the East, they were said to bring rain. They were considered very wise and noble creatures who brought good fortune.

Both are partially correct.

We forgot what happened with the dragons. We forgot the promise we made with them. We forgot why they vanished.

But now the dragons have returned and its time for humans to make good on the promise we made in return for their protection.