Lost in the Wreaths of Time
An exploration of the people of Duotro and the Firestorm Mountains
The Time of Renewal
Year 7819
1775 years after the Mala
Rated: Everyone
(N/a.)
Maleah:
Life in the red mountains had not been easy to build. The early adopters were a fierce and relentless people. The stones had crafted the people who called them home with an edge as sharp and vibrant as the crimson monoliths that made up their rocky crags. Years ago, the people had been drawn to the beauty of the mountains and the allure of the dragons who called them home. The danger of the fire-spewing Firecrown was far above and away, and the dragons brought wisdom and guidance that meant the people thrived. As people flocked to the mountains to seek the wisdom of the Dragae, the settlement of Duotro arose. At first, the dragons only asked for food in exchange for their wisdom.
But the dragons had grown greedy.
Their bright scales bringing every color of the rainbow to the skies had once been a thing of beauty. Now it struck terror in the hearts of the citizens of the outpost as they swooped down to collect their increasingly heavy tributes. Food was no longer enough. They demanded gold and jewels. The wealth the humans of the colony had accumulated quickly dwindled despite the steady stream of visitors. And the Dragae were not content. They kept their dens and riches secret in the towering peaks above and threatened fire on any who refused their demands.
Duotro's grand entrance set into the mountain itself
It was Maleah’s own ancestor Zane who had finally found his way up the treacherous slopes and returned with stories of the vast treasures in the Dragae dens. It was Zane who had led a small contingent high into the mountains, scouring den after den and reclaiming the gold to return to the people below. The dragons had screamed their anger from the peaks, awakening the Great-Dragon-who-slept. Firecrown, the tallest mountain in the range, was said to draw her ire directly from the core of Haviar herself and even her fire was imbued with magic. Only the strongest of the Races could approach her without risking being consumed. The Dragae were so powerful that it served only to draw them into a warming lull. It was the home for slumber of the great dragon. When Barathom awoke, he did not take kindly to being roused from his magical slumber. His approach had shaken the stones themselves. His scarlet scales and fiery eyes burning as fiercely as the fire from his throat as he laid waste to the humans’ lands. Desolation claimed the foot of the mountains. And the Dragae in their immense wisdom had finally seen themselves clearly. Ashamed at the destruction they’d brought, they retreated further to the crags and peaks where no human could ascend. The time of the Dragae and Man had passed into legend.
Maleah was going to bring it back.
She’d been raised on the stories of her great, great, great-many-times-over grandfather Zane and the wealth that had been the hallmark of the Duotran’s during the time of the Dragae. The wealth had been brought back by Zane and his fighters. But the prestige had not. She was well aware of the potential danger. She’d studied the old texts till her parents questioned if she planned to join the Temple of the Dragae as a Novice. She’d shrugged that aside and skipped out of the conversation every time they tried to pin her down. They’d caught her once, only seven cycles of the seasons old, trying to climb the side of the mountain. Zane’s dagger hidden in the tiny pack that was otherwise stuffed in equal parts with sweets and glittery rocks, ostensibly to sustain her journey and then bribe the dragons to return. It had become a favorite story to regale at every family gathering. Maleah had learned quickly to keep her plans to herself. Every time she’d tried to cajole that it was long-past time to return to the glory of the old days, she only triggered eyerolls and sighs.
“The Dragae could not be awoken from their slumbers in the peaks.”
“The journey alone will kill you. No human can approach Firecrown and live.”
“What if you woke one who wanted only vengeance?”
“We have rebuilt our homes, stronger than ever, into the side of the mountain itself. What is so wrong with the life we have?”
Maleah had tried to explain things from her perspective. That if the flow of visitors would resume to seek the wisdom of the Dragae, it could only further help establish Duotro as the center of wisdom and beauty on the continent, and that she had a plan. She was certain that approaching the dragon’s lairs would waken them in and of itself. And she’d studied all texts on travel that she could find. Her arguments fell on deaf ears. So she’d learned to keep it quiet and instead hidden herself away in the Temple’s libraries between lessons, chores, and work. The Novices of the Order smiled when they saw the young teen. The Cleric had long given up trying to convince her to enter his Order. The Immediency’s local Prier had seen her fascination with religion, and apathy towards joining the Order, as hope she would pledge herself to his temple instead. She’d done her best to dash those hopes as well. The Immediency was the bastard religion of the region. Allowed to maintain a temple in the city only because the Merchant’s Guild refused to do business with a city that would not bend knee to their sanctioned divinity. Worse, beyond their Vade Mecum, the Immediency relied on oral traditions and boasted no libraries. They offered no knowledge of the dragons that had once brought prosperity to the region. So Maleah had simply smiled and walked away every time the Prier approached. In other cities, he might have been a revered leader. Here, she saw no reason to grace him with consideration. He hadn’t given up and had been a ghost in her path for the past few cycles. But her parents seemed to be at the end of their rope with their hopes she would find a trade to learn. It was a constant point of contention and Maleah had a feeling that she was rapidly running out of time to make her departure. Most Duotrans were apprenticed by their sixteenth annum. The jokes about “If you can’t decide, we’ll decide for you” were wearing thin and felt less like a joke and more like a threat as the fall had drawn nearer and with it, her sixteenth birth celebration.
The layers of Duotro as they are built into the mountain itself.
As shown: Lowermost Level, Thirdlow Level, Secondlow Level, heart of Duotro, Thirdmost Level, Secondmost Level, Crownmost Level
She’d dedicated precious hours for the past six cycles of the moon to sweeping the shops along Maker’s Way. The artisans’ apprentices were more than happy to toss her a coin or two in exchange for not having to sweep the shops themselves. Her parents had encouraged the work. They’d hoped she’d find a craft that drew her eye and would tempt her to apprentice. The work that the artisans did was beautiful indeed. Glasswork that could make men across the crust weep at the beauty. Metalwork that made the mundane into works of art. Weavers and tailors who drew beauty out of the simplest lines of fabric. Leather workers that made even the simplest wrist guard something worth vying for. Cheese and ale makers who drew out a nuance of flavors in the depths of their caverns. Among the more mundane of it all, bakers, butchers and pickled goods makers offered steady living as well for those who wanted to learn their craft.
There was certainly an abundance of work. If none of the artisans could temp her though, she was well aware that she’d be expected to find a home in the maintenance divisions. Either in the electric plant that lit the tunnels in the darkest corners or at night, or in the tunnel workers who upkept the tunnels and built new branches as the city expanded. None of it appealed as much as finding her way up the mountains and returning on the back of a vibrantly colored dragon. When she wasn’t sweeping, Maleah split the remainder of her time between the temples and the tunnels that arched higher and higher in the mountain’s core. It was the part of the plan she couldn’t yet crack.
Climbing the mountain, exposed to the elements and the eyes of the Watchers, she had no misconceptions that she would not make it very far. But, she theorized, there had to be tunnels that came out higher in the mountain. Above the realm of the watchers. It was the only thing that made sense. Even with the dragons asleep, occasionally rock tumbled loose. Despite the careful construction of the Light-Shafts, sometimes those rocks fell over their mouths and blocked the light from entering. When that happened, no clever construction of polished metals could direct the light down into the heart of the mountain to fill the city with sunlight despite its depth. Maintenance workers had to scale the mountain and clear the shafts. If possible, they would not want to risk being caught out in the storms that had given the mountain range the name of Firestorm. Maleah had yet to see them start off from the foot of the mountain where the entrance to the city lay. There had to be shafts that opened into the face of the mountain high above.
The young teen had considered joining the maintenance workers in hopes of being taught the tunnels. But there had been no rumbles from the mountains to call for maintenance in a long time and no guarantee that there would be any time soon. The risk of becoming stuck in a life she hated was too high. So instead, Maleah wandered the maze of tunnels that was Duotro seeking some path higher each time.
Climbing the mountain, exposed to the elements and the eyes of the Watchers, she had no misconceptions that she would not make it very far. But, she theorized, there had to be tunnels that came out higher in the mountain. Above the realm of the watchers. It was the only thing that made sense. Even with the dragons asleep, occasionally rock tumbled loose. Despite the careful construction of the Light-Shafts, sometimes those rocks fell over their mouths and blocked the light from entering. When that happened, no clever construction of polished metals could direct the light down into the heart of the mountain to fill the city with sunlight despite its depth. Maintenance workers had to scale the mountain and clear the shafts. If possible, they would not want to risk being caught out in the storms that had given the mountain range the name of Firestorm. Maleah had yet to see them start off from the foot of the mountain where the entrance to the city lay. There had to be shafts that opened into the face of the mountain high above.
The young teen had considered joining the maintenance workers in hopes of being taught the tunnels. But there had been no rumbles from the mountains to call for maintenance in a long time and no guarantee that there would be any time soon. The risk of becoming stuck in a life she hated was too high. So instead, Maleah wandered the maze of tunnels that was Duotro seeking some path higher each time.
Climbing the mountain, exposed to the elements and the eyes of the Watchers, she had no misconceptions that she would not make it very far. But, she theorized, there had to be tunnels that came out higher in the mountain. Above the realm of the watchers. It was the only thing that made sense. Even with the dragons asleep, occasionally rock tumbled loose. Despite the careful construction of the Light-Shafts, sometimes those rocks fell over their mouths and blocked the light from entering. When that happened, no clever construction of polished metals could direct the light down into the heart of the mountain to fill the city with sunlight despite its depth. Maintenance workers had to scale the mountain and clear the shafts. If possible, they would not want to risk being caught out in the storms that had given the mountain range the name of Firestorm. Maleah had yet to see them start off from the foot of the mountain where the entrance to the city lay. There had to be shafts that opened into the face of the mountain high above.
The young teen had considered joining the maintenance workers in hopes of being taught the tunnels. But there had been no rumbles from the mountains to call for maintenance in a long time and no guarantee that there would be any time soon. The risk of becoming stuck in a life she hated was too high. So instead, Maleah wandered the maze of tunnels that was Duotro seeking some path higher each time.
Today, she knew she was expected home at a reasonable time. She was steeled for the argument that would inevitably follow the traditional birth celebration ceremony. She would arrive home and Mother would be waiting with the family cape, newly embroidered with Maleah’s name along the trim and the circlet. The table would be set with a feast. Family and friends would cheer the moment the circlet rested on Maleah’s forehead. It was the first time she would get to see the coronet, and the last time she would see it until her wedding day. She was well aware that her father had commissioned the circlet on the day of her birth. The smith had watched her as she’d grown to craft the perfect diadem to represent the young woman she was becoming. Maleah had no question that there would be the shape of dragons elegantly hidden in the sweeping lines of silver and gold. She was also fairly certain that the stone that the smith would have chosen to rest on her brow would be a Firesheart. The red stone, found only in the deepest parts of the mountains, seemed to hold fire itself in its heart. The gold shimmer shifted and flickered with every movement. It was prized all across Haviar and would have cost almost a year's worth of her mother’s shop profits and every spare penny of her father’s salary as city leader. Her parents had saved for this for a long time.
And after the ceremony. After the family gorged themselves and toasted her future. After someone brought up the story of the attempt to climb the mountain, Maleah would argue one last time that the Dragae should be brought back. The evening would end in disappointment and anger. Maleah glanced at the shifting beams of light on the floor of the tunnel. They had the edge of late afternoon glow that told her she needed to start back home soon. She picked at the ragged edges around her fingernails as she continued climbing the stairs. A bite of pain blossomed at her thumb where she tore the skin too deeply and Maleah shoved the digit into her mouth to suck away the red that began to seep. These paths were old. Some of the oldest in the city. That gave Maleah hope.
Early Duotrans had found shelter in the caves of the mountain during Barathom’s rampage. It was from these caves that they first began to dig out the space they would call home. They’d dug both shallow and high. High to build the light-shafts where they would come out above the majority of the storms that tore across the lower edges of the mountain range. Shallow to create homes in the rock. As the city had grown, more homes, tunnels, and shops had sprung up. The maintenance division had started simply as a group of individuals who were most willing to work to expand the footprint of the city. The more the space had grown, the more maintenance it had needed. Now, Maleah could only hope that these old paths were the key to the light-shaft access. They were, for the most part, left alone. No one wanted to live this close to the crust. Deeper was better. It had prompted more creative light shafts. And had left the upper chambers mostly filled with the excess stone and dust from the new diggings. The tunnels remained.
Her feet moved faster as she caught another glimpse of the sun against the wall. It was descending faster than she’d thought. The water clocks would be chiming the end of the workday soon. She was moving so quickly that she nearly slammed into the dead end as she rounded the next corner. The tunnel, like so many others, went nowhere. Maleah was tempted to punch the wall. She restrained herself. That usually ended in broken fingers and today was not the day for broken fingers. The young woman fought the urge to sink down against the wall. It looked inviting. The deadends always did. They were a space no one came. Space one could be alone with their thoughts without risk of being seen and raising eyebrows. Instead, she reluctantly turned to head back. The pathway underfoot was relatively smooth with only a few loose pebbles but Maleah made a point of finding every single one she could to kick it away. It was a relatively safe outlet for her anger.
Her step slowed as her brain finally registered that the last pebble hadn’t actually bounced off the wall she’d kicked it against. The young woman backed up cautiously, her eyes scanning the crack in the wall she’s assumed was just poor workmanship from less savvy rock workers. The pebble had bounced through the crack and Maleah gingerly reached out to feel along the edge.
Air.
Fresh air flitted softly over her sensitive fingers and Maleah fought to slow her excitement. It was as likely to be nothing as anything. Inside the crack, it was hard to see and Maleah wasn’t entirely certain how she could get through the crevice even if it was some tunnel to the outside. That said, the old stoneworkers were also known for building levers and hinges that would remain unnoticed by most observers. Maleah traced the edge of the crack, then along the stone at its edges. Nothing moved. She glanced up for some hint at the sunlight to check the time. It was hard to tell but she could always run if she needed a couple extra krellects.
Even with the most careful scrutiny, the crack gave up no secrets and Maleah glanced around the tunnel in defeat. Somewhere far away in the tunnels, her parents were putting the finishing touches on the meal and Maleah pressed her forehead against the stone lovingly. “I will find your secrets, al nanah.” It was a promise. Made with the reverence the ancient term demanded. Gifted by the dragons in their zenith. One that meant “the one who knows.” Maleah could only hope that it wasn’t just a term, and the dragons truly did know more.
For now, the pull of familial obligations drew her back down the tunnel.
©2023 - Stephanie Dupre
This work may not be reproduced anywhere without express permission of the author.
