When Sireris realises it is not thunder that disturbs this sunny day, she drops to her knees and weeps, her lips trembling as she prays for mercy, her heart pounding as if she were chased by wolves in the night, as she listens to the dragon pride fly overhead.
Do not look.
May the great ones reign be strong and everlasting, she mutters and hopes they hear her and leave her in peace.
The great ones favour her by showing themselves, but will they demand something in return? Will she be swept up and taken to Tsoma-geir-low-nerinas, the Smouldering Citadel, never to see her family again, to serve the great ones? Sireris shakes her head and pulls at the grass in the meadow until it comes loose.
Silly girl. It is childish to think such an honour could ever befall her. Who is she? Sireris of the simple glenn, who lives in a simple shack, descendent from a simple forbear, and so shall she live, and so shall she die. Plain and simple.
The air around her goes cold for a moment as the dragons block the sun, and goosebumps spread on her bare arms. Sireris dares not look up, and shivers, anticipating the sun’s warmth. She waits with her forehead pressed to the ground and her arms stretched out infront of her, until the thunder of beating wings fades, and the meadows go still once more. Then she waits a little longer, for none can stand in the presence of the great ones and expect to live.
Long after her knees start aching does Sireris rise, quickly scanning the sky, before snatching up her basket. Then she runs. Across the meadows, hopping over the brook, and zigzagging through the copse, until she reaches her village and stops to catch her breath.
The Wise have already gathered around the stump of the ancient oak, upon which her father stands to speak. They have all seen the great ones fly, and they all know what that means. Sireris looks around and hugs the basket. War is upon them, and they must do their part, for the glory of the Tsoma-geir-low-nerinas.
May the great ones always keep them safe and forever rule the world.
For the last months I’ve explored different ages in Ealisia’s history. During the first age, dragons and giants rule the world, and all life falls under their dominion. Sometimes, I write flash fiction to explore what that life during those times was like for the folk who lived then.