The dragons have been around for centuries. No one knows where they came from, though there are many tales about how they came to roam our lands. Some say that the great giant Echidna birthed the dragons with her fierce mate Typhon as a weapon against Zeus. Others say that when Apollo slayed the great Pytho of Delphi they sprung forth from her blood, damned to wander the earth in search of the god who killed their ancestor. Some blame the wise Athene, goddess of war, claiming the dragons were born when she threw the Gigantomachian Dragon into the sky and he became the great constellation Draco.

Regardless of where they came from, we have settled into life with them well. Some of them work with us on the fields, using their fire to purge the weeds that threaten the crops, or their behemoth talons to rake the soil. Others help with construction of our buildings, using their brute strength and ability to fly to carry and place the larger stones with more accuracy and speed than us humans could ever achieve. More assist the fishermen, diving into the sea and emerging with the giant fish that dwell in the deep and evade our fishing nets.

There are some, however, who abhor sharing the land with humans. Instead of living on the mainland with us, these dragons choose to occupy further out, hiding in caves or dwelling in the high mountain tops, watching us, and waiting. They believe that our time is coming to an end, that it won't be long until the dragons who cohabit so peacefully with us realise their mistakes and rise up to join their brothers and sisters in the outskirts until they are ready to take back the land they believe is rightfully theirs.

We pay as little mind to that as the stories of where they came from. The threat of the dragons rising up has been around for the last few decades, but our friends on the mainland show no signs of abandoning their protective posts. It has become nothing more than a folk tale, something to tell our children when they misbehave. 'Carry on like that and the dragons will come for you!'

But recently, I have began to feel differently. Strange. The wind has perculiar smell to it, the water an unfamiliar feel. There have been whispers of apprehension in the travellers, who talk of feeling eyes watching them as they voyage from one village to the next. Although we still feel safe and still have faith in our dragons, our friends and protectors, there is a growing feeling of disquietude growing in our communities. There are no rumours spoken, not yet, but I think there is a silent agreement: maybe we don't know our dragon friends so well, after all.