Golden Valley

Drisdan rested among rolling hills where the wild tulips blossomed. Many viewed it as a bit of heaven brought to earth a gift of apology from the gods for their lot in life. A look of peaceful contentment drifted across Yanley's face as he remembered watching children laughing and playing near the river. He could almost hear the gay shouts of their voices emanating from the grassy fields as they chased each other and called out one another. He had fond memories of his wife as well. She was a great beauty and the most caring wife a husband could ever hope to have. He pictured her as he had last seen her alive, waving goodbye with one hand, resting the other on her pregnant midsection. They shared many late nights together, looking at the stars, planning for their future, and loving each other. Hollan and his family would come over to visit almost every night before supper. Yanley and Hollan would sit to discuss the matters of the day, while the women spoke to each other elsewhere. Even in those early days, Hollan spoke of radical ideas, of revolutions and of wars. The two of them were not yet old enough to be considered elders in the village, but they were respected leaders, well versed in matters that concerned them all. Hollan was a proponent for moving the location of the entire clan in order to ease trading with the other people of the land. This was a point that Yanley had considered many times, but he, along with the elders of the village, agreed that society was still not ready to accept them into their fold as equals. They had many disagreements about what was right and what was wrong with the way they lived, but one thing they both agreed upon was the fact that they wanted to be treated just like everyone else, outcasts no longer. Although Drisdan was a sanctuary for their clan, during these discussions, both Yanley and Hollan felt trapped in the tiny village.

The master craftsmen of Drisdan were known for producing the best in leather goods and bead artwork. Their work was always in demand. But, since only the boldest tradesman would venture to their village, it was necessary for the men-folk of the clan to traverse the trade routes, selling the wares of the village. Hollan traveled extensively, selling his wife?s artwork and pottery in areas unknown to and unseen by the rest of the clan. He would be gone for weeks to months at a time before he returned home. Dubbed "The Great Adventurer", Hollan would arrive in Drisdan not only with several packs loaded with wares and foreign trinkets, but also with tales of wondrous sights and the strange customs of the people whom he had encountered. He had a knack for storytelling, and would entertain the clan for hours during festival times spinning his yarns. Yanley had warned him many times that although he was doing well with the towns; overexposure could be a bad thing. Hollan only laughed and told him not to worry so much. These were the days before it all changed forever.

Yanley was returning from a trip to their nearest neighboring town, Swal, where he sold a great number of intricately beaded leather pouches that day. Although nightfall was at hand an eerie glow was spread across the horizon. The red glow became brighter as he hurried home towards Drisdan. It was then that he saw the smoke billowing into the sky, and fear clenched itself around his heart. Sheer adrenaline pushed him to run the rest of the way to his village, but he was too late. He ran to the center of the village, past huts whose roofs were engulfed in torrents of flames. He heard the screams of the dying, and when he stopped running, he realized that the ground was littered with people, his clansmen. Yanley searched desperately for his wife, shouting her name while stumbling through the village towards their home. His eyes watered copiously not only from the black smoke filling the air, but also with anguish at the sites he was viewing. He could hear men yelling nearby. As he neared his hut, a body that could only be his wife lay face down in the doorway. A keening wail escaped his mouth as he knelt at her side. Racked with grief, he could barely muster the strength to turn her over. He was horrified to discover that she had been brutally gutted, his unborn child savagely removed from her tender womb. Shaking violently, he turned from the evil sight and vomited. He then gathered his precious wife on his lap, and held her, rocking together. Suddenly, he was struck from behind with a blow so forceful that it knocked the breath from his body. His world swirled away in darkness.