The Empty Nest

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.

They were once only a distant thing. A fairytale told among the children. A horror story told among the People. But never a present danger. Far away like the stars in the night sky.

Until the stars fell.

The Valley meant sanctuary. It was a place of green fields and peace. The alliance with the Outer City to the east brought them protection from enemies beyond their haven on the coast. The People of the Valley provided their goods to the Outer City, and in return, the Outer City provided their protection. The Outer City’s Watchers in the Mountain Pass would alert them to any dangers coming from beyond the Outer City to the east or from across the Sea to the west. By the time anyone or anything made it to the Valley, the Outer City’s soldiers would be ready.

On the third day of each month, one of the Watchers would come to the Valley’s Grand Hall to report to the Council the current needs of the Outer City and how the Valley could supply them with help. And if there was any reason to raise an alarm, the Watcher would advise the Valley’s Council of any incoming enemies. But of course, this was never a cause to worry. In the 150 years of the alliance, no threat had ever reached the Valley. For most, the long period of peace allowed them to pay no thought to the outside world. For others, they couldn’t help but feel a looming sense of something coming.

Lord Drest, the Head of the Council, was no stranger to these mutterings of paranoia. His tenure on the Council meant he had heard every rumor under the sun.

The City’s economy will collapse soon. Then what will we do?

The City is doing nothing to stop all the vagabonds from wandering out of the Wastelands.

What if the City does not have the numbers to protect us? We have no other defense mechanism.

Distrust in the Outer City’s capabilities would often gain popularity among the People when there was a large gap between reported threats. Yet like clockwork, another would come along, the City’s defenses would hold, and Drest would regain the People’s trust.

150 years, seven months, two weeks, and six days since the alliance began, a crack began to show. The Watchers were late, and the Council had no way to reach them. None of the Lords dared to express their panic, certainly not to Drest. Their system was intricate. Had they not thought of every possible scenario and outcome? If there was a storm moving over the Mountain Pass in the days before the Watchers were set to make for the Valley, they would leave early. If anything went wrong, if anything was coming, the Watchers would light the beacon at the high point. The Nest.

And yet, there was nothing. No signal. No sign.

Four days after the Watchers failed to show, the Council had an emergency gathering and was nearly in upheaval.

“We have to send scouts to the Nest!”

“And who will we send? Our Guard is overworked as it is!”

“So we stay in the dark and wait for our doom?”

“Enough!” Drest slammed his fist on the table. The Lords went silent. Drest was by no means a timid man. He spoke with authority but was never one resort to anger. But he was terrified. And he nearly let it show. Drest closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked at his Council. “We cannot afford to send our Guard. And we cannot afford to wait any longer.”

The Lords stared at Drest.

“Lord Favian,” Drest said.

Favian blinked. “Yes, sire?”

“Prepare to leave within the hour. You and I will make for the Nest. Lord Abel, you will take my seat until we return.”

Drest expected the Grand Hall to erupt in chaos again. But when there was no opposition, Drest realized they were all willing to do anything just as he was.

The Council said in unison, “Yes, sire.”

A journey to the Nest was not difficult. The Watchers had perfected a direct, clear path. From the Valley to the Nest, it was a short boat ride on the Long River to the Door to the Mountain Pass, and from there, the North Track leads directly to the Nest at the high point.

Drest knew the journey well. Prior to gaining a seat on the Council, Drest was a scout for the Guard and would bring supplies to the Watchers. But those trips did not require speed or stealth. He did not want the Council to know it, but this was the first time Drest was fearful of the journey.

He did not want to reach the destination. He was afraid of what they would find in the Nest.

Drest and Favian reached the Door to the Mountain Pass faster than Drest wanted. But he kept his composure. He would not show fear in front of one of his men. He wasn’t sure if Favian could sense it regardless, but Favian remained quiet.

As they hiked up the North Track, Drest sensed something in the air. Or rather, he sensed nothing in the air. There was no wind. There was no sight or sound of any animals. Everything was too still.

Drest kept his composure.

As soon as the entry to the Nest was in sight, Drest knew. There was no one here. Drest’s heart began to race.

“Should we call out first before we go in?” Favian’s voice cut through Drest’s panic.

“Stay here,” Drest commanded.

There was enough light pushing into the Nest that Drest did not have to venture far into the small cave to see it.

Nothing.

No supplies, no torches, no food.

No one.

“Sire?” Favian’s voice shook.

Before Drest could respond, thunder rolled in the distance. Drest hadn’t seen any storm clouds in the distance during their journey.

Thunder boomed again.

Drest felt the blood drain from his face. The thunder was underneath his feet.

“Sire, what is this?”

Drest turned and looked into Favian’s wide eyes.

“Dragon.”