Upcoming (Dragons of the Fire Mountains)

Towering peaks crested high over thick coniferous forests, majestically dwarfing all competitors in the land of Athnan. The vast mountain range extended for many miles, far too large for the most seasoned explorer or hunter to fully explore in a lifetime.  The Fire Mountains are the home of many extraordinary tales.  There is one, however, that will live on forever, and none of the other stories even come in a close second.                      

It all started in a town just south of the great mountains, in a land where winter ruled most of the year.  It was an ominous place to live, for crops grew poorly as the summers were short.  Ice storms and bitter cold threatened the villagers, and the mountains themselves were volcanos that at times smoldered in flame and ash. It had been ages since any major eruption had taken place, although earthquakes and landslides were not unheard of. In the face of the danger, men lived there.  Their ancestors had come to this place long ago and were determined to live in this harsh land.  In the days of the first kings of New Normandy, a small village was formed. Icewrath it was called, and the name suited it well.  Yet despite the cold, the men and women who lived there were proud of their town.  They were one of the northernmost villages in all Athnan, and although they could not prove it, they were sure that no one could or would want to live so close to the world’s end, as the great sea was only a little way east of the village.   

Now in the village, there lived a lazy boy named Anthony.  He hated work and was always looking for a way to get out of it.  Instead of doing chores, he often would wander the fields aimlessly or daydream atop a hill, watching the clouds slowly roll by.  Of course, this annoyed everyone, especially his father Richard.  The worst part of it was that the boy was at an age he should have been a man. To tell the truth, he was not a bad person; he just never really grew up. His family made more than the average income of the poor village, so there was more than enough food to go around, but that was a rather unacceptable excuse for his bad attitude.

At seventeen his father was sick of it.  “He is a fantasizing fool,” Richard told Isabel, his wife.  “I have had it!  He must leave.” 

“He is only a boy,” protested Isabel.   

“Yes, that’s the problem, he is just a boy.  By now he should be a man, and I don’t care what you say.”   

“Give him one more chance,” begged Isabel.   

Richard sighed and ran his hands through his hair.  He had already given his foolish son many chances and was feeling that it would be better for the entire family, including Anthony, if Anthony was forced to leave home and attempt to start his own life. Yet if the gruff man had one weakness, it was the entreating of his wife.  “One more and that is it.  Chances are he will waste it by sunset.”   

     Meanwhile, Anthony was sitting in the fields doing absolutely nothing.  He was dreaming of being a great warrior of the king, like the ones to the west that lived in splendid castles.  Although it was many years since the true flower of knighthood had been in full bloom, there were still men of steel and valor left since the elder days of the first kings.  “They are fearless and brave if only I were given a chance to face the challenges they do,” he thought as he stared into space.  It was comical that the boy would think such a thing, as he was noted in the village as a coward and his indigent status was about as good as his poor physical shape.      

There were many people in the fields gathering crops, as the growing season was not long, and the days were growing shorter.  The autumn sun still gave a little warmth, and the wind was low, making it a crisp yet not terribly unpleasant day.  “A perfect day for gathering the harvest,” thought Anthony.  He continued to sit there foolishly until dusk with not a care in the world. 

Richard, who was a blacksmith, expected Anthony to help with the harvest and tend to the crops most of the time.  The boy knew this, but still would not pull his weight.  He was more interested in thinking about adventures in far-off lands.   

In truth, there was one person in the village a little similar to Anthony.  She was a girl named Clare.  She too loved to dream of adventures, but of a different, and more dangerous, kind.  She lived with her father, and younger brothers Dante and Fremont, who she took care of, as her mother had been killed by a raiding dragon.  Her older brother Caiden had disappeared years prior when she was only a baby.  He had been hunting in the mountains, and sadly never returned.  What had happened to him was never discovered, but after an extensive search the family came to the sad conclusion that he had been killed by a wild beast or outlaws. Clare was in many ways, very womanly for her age, and both her appearance and demeanor were graceful. Consequently, she had many admirers. Yet the girl was known to be very stubborn and dynamic, with a temperament that could flare up quickly. She also was far wilder than she appeared at first glance, as her father would sometimes take her hunting, fishing, and gathering in the wild.  She could shoot a straight arrow, navigate difficult terrain, and was a strong swimmer.

However, these small feats were not enough for her.  Clare wanted more than anything to kill a dragon and make things even.  A burning desire was always in her heart for revenge on the beasts.  She was fascinated with weapons, although the closest thing she ever got to use to a sword was a scythe.  However, there was a difference between her and Anthony as she worked very hard to keep her family fed. She resented Anthony as everyone in the town did. 

“Lazy jackass,” she thought as she saw him leaving the field empty-handed.  She too had been in the fields cutting wheat.  After another hour of working, she finally took her cart of wheat to the mill to be ground into flour.   

Meanwhile, at Anthony’s house, his father was telling him he would not take any more of his son’s laziness.  “You have to choose, son, if you want to work like every other man and woman in this village, or if you will starve.”   

“What does that mean,” asked the boy, although he had already guessed.   

“It means I am giving you one, and I mean one, chance to change, or you are out of my house.”   

“Where would I go?”   

“You would be the one to decide that, my son,” said Richard sternly.  “This world is a wild and unforgivable place.”   

“Alright I will try harder.”   

“No, son, you won’t try, you will.  In a few weeks, it will be winter, we will need meat and plenty of it.  You and I are going to hunt sea lions on the coast, and if you do not put in all the effort you have, you can say goodbye to living under my roof.”   

Anthony was actually quite pleased.  “I have always wanted to do that!” he exclaimed.   

“It is not fun, get that out of your head,” said Richard.  “Now we leave in two days.  In the meantime, you will take care of the harvest.  I want it in before we depart.”   

The next two days Richard finished all his urgent blacksmith work, and Anthony worked feebly on the harvest.  He did, by some miracle, get the crops harvested, although he did have some help from Clare, in return for his knife that he gave her in exchange.   

“I am going hunting seals with my father in a few days,” Anthony bragged.   

“I don’t know why your father puts up with you,” she said mockingly.  “You are the laziest person in the village and are more of a hindrance than help.  You even had to give me this knife so I would help you because you obviously can’t do anything by yourself.” 

“Look here, woman, I hired you to work not talk.”   

“Shut up you stupid boy, I can talk all I want!”   

Anthony decided to be quiet and keep his mouth closed.   

“If I was like you, my whole household and I would starve,” Clare continued.  “Unlike you I have responsibilities, my father depends on me.”    

Anthony gulped. “Well, luckily for me, I depend on my father.”   

“Not forever.  Someday you will not have him; what then?” 

“Well, I will worry about that when the time comes, and I am sorry for talking you down.”   

“So am I,” said the girl, “But just know this, I am not a liability.” 

  On the morning of the hunt, Anthony overslept.  “Drat that boy,” said Richard.  “I would just as soon leave him here.”   

“You said you would give him one more chance,” reminded Isabel.   

“Yes, and he is failing already.  A boy like that could get into all kinds of trouble hunting these creatures.  Honestly, he is the most foolish man in the world.  I am frankly embarrassed he is my son.  What will become of him?”   

“He has a good heart,” said Isabel.   

“Well, you think what you what.  I, for one, am going hunting.  A good heart will not keep us fed!”  The man grabbed his harpoon, rope, and knife, then started for the door.   

“You have to take him with you,” insisted the boy’s mother. 

The man sighed and rubbed his face thoughtfully. “Fine, I take him, but I am not going to take it easy on him. He is going to have a trial by fire.”  With that, Richard threw Anthony out of his bed.  “Get up, boy, we go now. Grab your knife.”   

“I gave it away,” said the boy meekly as he rubbed his eyes.   

“You gave it away.  You fool!  To who, and for what?”   

“Well,” stammered Anthony, “I gave it to a woman in exchange for help harvesting the wheat.”   

“I’ll bet the woman was Clare,” Isabel interrupted.  “She is so energetic, isn’t she Anthony?”   

Anthony nodded a little.   

“She’s handsome too, right, Anthony?” Isabel continued. 

The young man blushed and looked even more foolish than usual.   

“I don’t care about who she is, or if she is handsome, or anything else!” Richard shouted.  “The point is you are an ass and traded your most important possession to a girl so she could do your work for you.”   

“I did work too, but I could not do it all.”          

Richard frowned, “Come on boy.”   

They, or should I say, Richard, packed everything they would need, including mountain sheep coats, warm blankets, and tools to build a boat when they arrived at the coast.  Richard then said goodbye to his wife, and he and Anthony set off.   

The chill of winter was in the air, and in a few weeks, the snow and ice would come from the mountains.  Already Anthony could see the steam of his breath.  Winter was the boy’s favorite season provided he was inside a warm house and not doing anything outside save fooling around making snow forts or sledding down seep snow-covered hills. And of course, he loved the holiday time when his mother would make all kinds of delicious food. At the moment, he was rather wishing for summer as he rubbed his hands together, trying to stay warm. The two trekked their way east as they made the journey to the seacoast.  The great towering mountain range extended south into smaller hills and bluffs after Icewrath. Richard went around them, instead taking the road that kept them out in the open. He could have chosen to go in between many of the mounts, as this would have been a quicker journey, for here the mountains were spread out and the range of peaks was not tightly formed, making it easy to pass through.  However, Richard knew too well that the mountains were the breeding grounds of the great dragons.   

These huge beasts were the terror of the northern lands.  All men of Icewrath greatly feared them, and with good reason, for only well-trained warriors, with good armor and weapons, could contend with these terrible monsters.  The dragons of the Fire Mountains often caused trouble for the men of Icewrath, at times coming down from the mountains, raiding the village, killing and eating man and beast alike.   

Long ago, the fire-breathing beasts had been all but eradicated by some force quite unknown to the villagers.  Back only a few years prior the dragons were all but a memory, and many even doubted the existence of such creatures. Boys often scoffed at the stories about the great mythical beasts that their grandparents had told them, and there was no standing army in the town.  

For nearly two centuries the village of Icewrath and its neighboring villages to the south were at peace.  However, the dragons had made a comeback of late.  They had bred at a remarkable speed and attacked the town with such strength that most of it was burned and hundreds of men, women, and children died by fire.  So bad it was, that the king of the faraway land of New Normand had sent soldiers to find and kill every dragon in the realm. 

New Normandy did not technically rule Icewrath, but the two were on good terms, as well as close partners in trade. Also, they spoke the same language and had the same ancestors. Icewrath would trade its furs and salted fish to the larger villages and castles to the south and west, as well as several nomad tribes. Because of their close association, New Normandy thought it in their best interest for their own economy that Icewrath and its southern neighbors were protected. The kings of New Normandy, were also of a noble blood, and felt it somewhat their duty to protect their vulnerable neighbors. Still the king would not send a large force of soldiers, he had his own lands and castles to protect and the dragons could wipe out large armies in open battle.    

Around this time a mysterious and highly trained group of young men came into service of the army of New Normandy.  They were mercenary fighters owing allegiance to no flag or creed, although they gave themselves the tidal of knights and had better weapons and were far more skilled warriors, than those of New Normandy.  They offered their help to the soldiers of the king in hunting the beasts, and over the course of the campaign seemed to have exhalent success.  Sadly, the soldiers of the king had not shared the same outcome of victory.  They managed to kill some of the dragons, but they failed to find the breeding grounds.  It had been a long and bloody war with many casualties, so many so that the king at last had pulled his own soldiers out of the conflict. The young men who had assisted the soldiers told the king they would continue hunting the dragons and do their very best to keep the village of Icewrath safe, in return for a salary.  The most successful parts of the campaign were mostly thanks to the superior fighting skill that they possessed. They built up and took residence of a large, abandoned fortress deep within the mountains and appeared to work tirelessly to exterminate the beasts.  The kingdom of New Normandy paid them handsomely for this service as it was far easier and cheaper for the king, than to keep sending his own soldiers north.  In addition, Icewrath itself, along with many other villages in the northland, also paid a very high tax.  Over time, a few soldiers from Icewrath were trained, but they acted as more of a police force than a standing army, and their main job was to keep out small bands of outlaws. It was composed of mostly volunteers with little to no military experience. They stood no chance against an army of dragons, and would likely fall to even a single beast although they could possibly hold it off until more help from the knights arrived.     

After that things were better, yet not perfect.  Dragons would still sometimes be seen and on occasion attack and kill people.  However, for the most part, the group of men who became known as the Knights of the Fire Mountains did a good job of keeping the dragons out of the village.  Everyone in Icewrath greatly respected and looked up to the knights who fought these terrible beasts although they rarely saw them.  The knights themselves did not often make close friends with any.  No one but their own, had seen their great fortress in the mountains.   

It normally would have been a day’s journey to the coast for Richard.  But we must remember that Anthony was lazy.  Consequently, it took them nearly two days to reach the seashore.   

When they finally arrived, the fresh smell of salt water and the huge waves that crashed on the rock beach was a new thing for Anthony.  Most of all the boy was awestruck at the size of the vast body of water.  It went on as far as he could see, until the horizon turned to a blue and white haze.   

Many other men were already camped along the coast, waiting for the sea lions and huge walruses that would congregate in the hundreds just off the shores on their migration south.  However, a successful harvest was far from guaranteed.  For as numerous as these creatures were, they feared the hunters, for they had come to learn that man meant death.  Richard quickly set up a shelter and cooked a small supper.  Then the two went to sleep, knowing that their real adventure would begin the next morning.   

In the middle of the night Anthony awoke.  It was deathly cold and the chill in the damp air had roused him.  He tried to fall back asleep, but the thrill of the adventure and the winter temperatures prevented him from finding any rest for the remainder of the night. Phillip Meyer copyright 2025©