The Spirit Wilds: Magic of the Green Sage (Fall of the Sages Book 1), стр. 26
They entered the tall grass. “Keep your legs tucked tight against me,” Runa-Val said. “This is tyrlele. It will burn a human’s skin at the touch. Good thing you collapsed where you did.”
Bishta let out a breath. “Yeah, good thing.”
Fire grass. It was a rare plant, not seen outside of the Land of Dragons. It was coveted the world over by alchemists and apothecaries for its many interesting properties. Brewing it in a tea was said to cure all manner of illnesses. Smoking it could allow one to see at night. Eating it… Well, that would just burn your mouth. There were numerous other potions that could be made with it. Bishta had also heard that if one boiled it into a resin and then crystalized that and smoked it, it could create an incredible high. She didn’t dabble in such things, but it was good to stay informed.
All in all, fire grass may have been the most sought-after plant on earth. It also happened to be in the most dangerous place in the world for humans. Dragons, even the high ones, did not like humans coming to take resources from their land.
Runa-Val strode gracefully over the fire grass, so Bishta didn’t have to worry. They took her through the fields as the other drakons looked on. Larger, winged dragons flew overhead, also looking down on her. Both were much bigger than these smaller drakons, though neither were a high dragon.
As they reached the end of the fire grass, Runa-Val asked, “So how did you come to be in the Land of Dragons? You don’t exactly look like you packed for such a place.”
The sage smiled wryly. “Not at all. I came through a portal. There’s one in the mountains south of here. Much too small for any greater drakon such as yourself to enter though. I didn’t know it would take me to the Valley of Fire. Otherwise, I would have worn a few more layers.”
Her drakon steed laughed, which was an odd sound. It was rare for anyone to hear a dragonkind laugh. “That explains it.”
Bishta nodded. She liked this drakon.
Thankfully, her escort didn’t pry into her business. They stayed silent for the rest of the way. Before long, they reached the edge of valley, where a massive peak overlooked it. Steps wound up and around the rocky surfaces, some disappearing around corners, others ending in massive archways leading into the mountain. A few even reached for the peaks, where Bishta could see structures high atop the mountain through the clouds.
“Our high one is up there,” Runa said, inclining her neck at the large building in the sky. “I will take you to him.”
“Thank you.”
They started their climb.
Bishta looked back as they got higher and higher, looking out over the Valley of Fire in the distance and the nearby peaks. Some of them had caves and buildings on them, while others were bare. As sophisticated as dragons were, they were more of a tribal people, living in small, secluded valleys, or even single peaks, each usually watched over by a single high dragon. Very rarely did dragons live together in cities the way humans did.
As they got higher, Bishta went from being drenched in sweat and exhausted from heat to shivering from the cold air and wind. She feared she’d catch her death before she reached the top. But before that happened, they passed through the low clouds near the summit, washing a lot of the grime from her, and emerged into clean, open air, with golden-pink skies above.
The sage had to catch her breath. Sitting atop the peak was a shimmering building made of polished limestone and small mosaics interlaid with latticework. Expert craftsmanship, the likes of which only high dragons could achieve. Or human slave labor, but that was a thought for another time. Most high dragons were wise and more or less benevolent.
Runa-Val stopped on the large, tiled landing leading to two truly massive bronze doors that had images of dragon myths and symbols pressed into them. Bishta slid off the drakon’s neck and leaned on her staff. She shivered as a strong wind tore into her. Runa-Val saw this and did her best to shield her from the worst of the wind.
“Our high one, Gengyan’Nun, is ahead. He’s been asleep for weeks now, but knowing him, he will have awoken at your arrival. A sage entering his valley would not go unnoticed by him.”
Bishta nodded. She was unsure if she should be reassured by that. Only one way to find out. She took a deep breath, gripped her staff tight, and walked forward. Runa-Val spoke some words in that strange dialect of theirs and the doors opened inward. She looked back to Bishta and nodded. I guess that means it’s safe to enter.
With a gulp, the sage willed her legs to move. They were wobbly at first, but she willed strength into them. She needed to be at her best in front of a high dragon. They were the highest forms of life on this earth, as much as humans would argue otherwise.
Beyond the doors, the mountain was carved into a grand hall, the ceiling supported by dozens of what appeared to be marble columns. Sconces of pale fire blazed on every one, making the room just bright enough to see. The space was otherwise empty, except for the giant dragon perched on a raised dais at the far end.
Gengyan’Nun was like most high dragons: bigger than even the largest ships, feet the size of houses, teeth the size of whole people, wings that would block out the sun. This one had deep blue scales that glowed in the torchlight. A mane of white hair circled his head, thick and lustrous. And his eyes were wide open and staring right