The Valley of Dragons
Inspired by the art writing prompts below by Christine Graves and Amusing Responses.
Haust squatted, his back pressed against the large stone, his breath coming in rapid short spurts. His muscles ached and his mind swooned. For days, nature’s fury struck out against him. Blazing heat, rain, and wind, and now this snow and the biting wind. The tales of the Valley of Dragons did not mention the ferocity by which the elements of nature would test those who sought it. Were the gods demanding nature to defend the valley from violation by those not native to it? The cold bit deep, straight to the bones, his aching muscles drained of energy from the long struggle this far. For the first time in the long journey, doubt, worry, fear. He closed his eyes.
“Haust,” his mother whispered to him, he smiled recalling the warmth in mom’s smile, and brown eyes.
She always kept the fire going, he remembered falling asleep to a fire and waking to a fire and always wondered where did mom get the energy to do all she did.
“Haust,” her voice cried out. “Open your eyes and move. You must find protection from this storm. Time is waning.”
