There you are, welcome! Please, come in. I suspect you are weary from your travels. You've heard about my tales, have you? Yes, I thought so... Have you come to hear about the fairies that travelled over the misty moor, or the pirates who came upon a lost treasure? Neither? Ah, of course, you've come to hear about The Princes and the Dragon. Please sit, this tale may be long. Our story begins in the ashes of chaos…

 

The earth rumbled and the walls of the great palace shook. Debris fell from the ceiling, and the cobblestone panels that made the floor began to be uprooted. The screams of the panicked people could be heard for many a mile. The dragons came wielding their fiery breaths clad in the scales that stayed the blades and arrows of mortal men. Knights donning armour so valiant marched hopelessly to meet their winged oppressors, knowing they would face their demise. The night sky was burnt orange from the flames that engulfed the kingdom below. Black smoke impaired the vision of the brave knights who aimed to shoot the demons down, who circled all like an eagle would its prey; for that was what the people were to these dragons. A simple meal to be had.

 

'Quickly this way!' Sir Borin lead the queen and prince through the catacombs of the castle. The king had been burnt to a crisp in his attempt to face their foes so that his wife and son might live. When Prince Jarin turned to see what became of his lord father all that was left was a shadow upon the wall, scorched in like a memory. Through the winding ways they went, dust drifting from the shaking earth coated their fine clothing.

 

Finally, they came upon a tomb which opened a secret way that would lead them far into the heart of the forest high upon the mountains. Sir Borin quickly ushered them through, his torch nearly burned out. They couldn’t waste any more time. The Prince, who was merely a boy at the time, wanted to cry. His tiny feet padded so hard against the old damp floor as he tried his best to keep up. He could only run so hard and so fast. He reached his limit then stopping so suddenly his queen mother almost tipped over.

 

'Sir Borin!' She cried, 'pray, a moment.' She was tired as well. You see, to be queen carries many responsibilities, most of which required her to sit. Her bosom heaved as she strained to catch her breath, her little prince clung desperately to her skirts.

 

'Mummy,' said he, 'why do the dragons attack us?' The queen stroked his head in a soothing manner, trying to disguise the shake of her hand.

 

'They are soulless creatures, sweet prince.' Sir Borin watched his torch warily. The last of the flames licked away the darkness around them. Should that had happened they would have a longer trip ahead of them. This did not bode well with Sir Borin, especially when the roof of the cave was threatening to fall straight down on their heads.

 

'We must make haste.' He pressured with little to no manners in his tone. For there was none to spare at the time. The queen gave him a harsh look before agreeing.

 

'Come, sweetling, onward.' Jarin wanted to protest, but he sensed even if he had they’d fall on deaf ears. By the by, he figured the sooner they left that stinky old cavern the sooner he’d be able to sleep. Perhaps when he awoke his king father would no longer be scorched upon the wall. Perhaps he would awake to him smiling that big smile he had; the one where tiny lines would form at the corner of his eyes, and around his large mouth. Yes, Jarin enjoyed that thought. And so, ignoring the aching protests of his little feet, he pressed on.

 

Once they made it to the forest, they could hear the battle cries of the demons that ravaged their kingdom. They looked on in horror as the dragons flew expelling large flames of orange. Sometimes they would come out so hot they'd turn blue. The prince wondered at that why was it that the hotter flames turned blue? He wanted to ask his mother, but her heart wrenching sobs told him to stay his curiosity. He learned long ago that when his mother cried there was no getting coherent words to spill from her. So, he squeezed her hand tightly still not quite understanding why she wept. He was still young you see and could not fully grasp the meaning of death and other sad things. Through her tears the queen could only offer her son a not-so-sincere smile.

 

Once he, his mother, and Sir Borin fled to the Kingdom of his uncle, his mother remarried. With the consummation of their joining came the birth of his younger brother, Merrick. He was four years Jarin's junior and much more brazen in character.

 

That was long ago. If one were to keep count, it would be roughly ten years to the day Jarin awoke on his fourteenth birthday. His mother had long since perished, catching a deathly flu in her sleep. She found she could no longer fight to breathe. And so, she stopped. Just like that.

 

With his mother gone, and his uncle (now stepfather), Jarin found he did not settle well in his new life in a different kingdom. His father never stopped being a shadow, and Sir Borin was oft times too busy training new knights. With no one left to keep him company but his half-brother, and a serving girl named Thea, who he didn't like very much for she cried far too often, Jarin felt very lonely. Merrick wasn't terrible company; he was louder than Jarin often getting into fights with children from the village. Whereas Jarin much preferred the confines of the castle library, or the highest branch of a tree.

 

On Jarin's fourteenth birthday, when Merrick had enough of the library, he coaxed his elder brother and the serving girl into exploring a cave he’d found. Though it was after much whining. With a sigh Jarin put away his favourite book agreeing to follow the boy. After all the feast wasn't until later that night so they’d time-a-plenty to play.

 

Along the way it was explained to Thea and Jarin that he found the cave while accompanying the king on a hunting trip, though he was much too frightened to explore it alone, Jarin concluded. They took two horses to ride out not asking the stable boy knowing he’d go tell someone what they were up to. After some arguing it was decided Thea would ride along Merrick's horse to the cave and on the way back Jarin would bear her hence. Off they galloped through tree and brush finally coming upon it; the mouth of a mountain hidden behind vines that scaled down, covering the entrance like a curtain.

 

'Come on then!' Merrick held apart the vines inviting them to enter first. Both Jarin and Thea looked in and saw how dark it was and right then the poor girl began to cry.

 

'Come on, Thea. It's not so bad.' Jarin softly spoke. His more boisterous little brother merely scoffed pushing by Thea who looked very tiny and fragile in that moment.

 

'If she doesn't want to come, just leave her!' Merrick said harshly. With one last look Jarin reassured her they’d return in time to make it for dinner. The cavern was dark, so much so they could barely see a foot ahead of them. Merrick’s fear clearly hastened, and he held tight to his brother’s hand. Jarin didn’t mind for it made him feel a little braver too. It wasn't often he got to do something big brothers would do for their little ones.  

 

'I don't think this leads anywhere.' Jarin concluded after a long and testing while. His brother didn’t reply only urging them both onward. Jarin knew Merrick believed some treasure laid ahead and perhaps in a way the boy was right for as they made their way deeper into the cavern, they saw a distant glowing light.

 

'See!' Prince Merrick yelled excitedly. A newfound energy pulled out of them, and they both sprinted forward until they came to an abrupt stop, nearly tumbling over into a large and gaping whole.

 

'Look!' They gasped becoming breathless at their near fall. The walls of the cave were something to gape at, for they sparkled and glittered like the stars that made up the night sky. That, however, was not what the Prince had been pointing too. Instead, resting at the bottom was an orb of sorts; an orb that looked like a crystal that fogged in a bluish hue. Within they could just barely make out the form of a person.

 

Quickly, they began to climb down. Both nearly lost their footing on several occasions. Once securely at the bottom they made their way to the crystal. They had their mouths dropped open in a very less than princely way that was unbecoming of them.

 

'What is it?’ The younger prince asked. Jarin inched closer, wanting very much to touch it. It looked so smooth to him, so unearthly as if it had fallen from the heavens and lost itself in that very cave. 'Be careful!' Merrick lost his courage.

 

My dear weary traveller, I'd like to stop there and say Jarin had stayed his curiosity and simply returned to the castle of his stepfather. Perhaps then he would have gone off and been married to a princess chosen just for him and lived quietly ever after. Unfortunately, it was not so.

 

Jarin did not turn back and was not careful. Instead, he tentatively stepped forward with his arm outstretched ready to touch the beautiful casing. He didn’t watch his step and stumbled upon the uneven flooring. His face became bloody upon crashing onto the orb. He was quick to grip at his injury and felt the hot blood make his hands slippery. Merrick, who witnessed the entire thing, began to laugh so loud the cavern shook just a bit. He soon stopped in shock of what was to come.

 

The blood that sullied the crystal had seemingly been absorbed, the casing began to crack and chip away. The same you'd see when throwing a rock straight into a frozen lake. Jarin stepped back standing at his brother’s side watching the events unfold. They were uncertain if they were to run far away from the scene or to stay and witness what would happen. You can only guess on which they decided.

 

Soon, the crystal burst open with a bright flash of light, the remnants came to resemble a lily fully bloomed. At its center a girl curled, sitting there. She’d short dark hair and eyebrows that looked much too thick and short to be normal. Once her sharp eyes opened, they could see that they were stark white with tiny black beads that made her pupils.

 

Both Princes stood there stunned. With the quickening of their beating hearts, they both yelled. Their fear had been stalled by shock but then it freely poured from them. Yes, not all Princes are always courageous especially when they are still boys.

 

The girl stood her clothes resembled something a court jester would wear, with a tunic with strange woven patterns, and tights underneath. Even her shoes had points which swirled back. And even stranger yet, she laughed.

2: The Feast

Might I offer you some tea, dear traveller? No? I know you'd like me to get on with the tale. It is after all, why you have travelled such a long way. Where had I left off? Oh, yes…

Jarin and Merrick were deathly frightened. By instinct Jarin took his brother’s hand in his bloodied one. Together they ran scurrying furiously from whence they came, eager to escape the strange girl who laughed at the sight of them. Once at the top, they bounded off through the darkness straight out hand in hand screaming till they almost crashed into tiny Thea.

'What's wrong?' Her large doe eyes were near bulging. They panted, and Jarin’s heart hammered so hard he could hear it in his flushed ears. Neither of the brothers spoke still a bit foggy at what truly took place. This made Thea wrought with even more anxieties and she took to doing what many children the age of eight did. Weeping, she pleaded, ‘let us make for home!' Brought out of their stupours the brothers agreed trotting back eagerly towards the castle atop their mounts.

That night, a feast was held in honour of Jarin's fourteenth birthday. He was gifted many trinkets and weapons by many lords, being forced to smile and happily accept them. In his mind he’d no use for them for his heart laid between the pages of a good book; his soul lived many lives in those tales. So, in a hushed whisper Jarin permitted his brother to use them as he pleased. Merrick (who seemingly all but forgotten what they’d seen earlier that day) beamed happily. His old friend Sir Borin caught Jarin later gifting him a story titled All About Dragons. It was only then Jarin allowed a sincere smile to spread across his youthful face.

'Thank you kindly!' Jarin clutched the book to his chest and Sir Borin, with a pat on the prince's head of gold, laughed merrily. Jarin looked about seeing the adults drink away the night and the children play. It was there he began to feel lonely once more even with Sir Borin at his side. For he was in a stage where he was neither man nor child. He excused himself then, silently slipping away from the merriment with the excuse of going to read his new book.  

His exit hadn’t gone unnoticed by Thea, who tended to stay out of the children's playing as they were much too rambunctious. She wondered if she should follow the prince though she decided to abandon such a thought, by then she’d contemplated it far too long. Prince Jarin was taller and much quicker than she. She’d never be able to catch him. She clung to the skirt of her mother instead, who was being wooed by a drunk knight. She hadn’t understood the meaning of the word nor the notions of it. She only thought that the secret touches shared between a man and woman were to check them for injury. The word itself reminded her of a sound a bird would make.

'Woo, woo,' she practiced.

'Dear, why not play with the other children?' Thea's mother lightly yanked her then-wrinkled skirt free from her daughter’s tiny clutch. Thea's face contorted as she watched the others play roughly with one another. The problem to her was that there were far too many boys to play swords, and far too little girls to play princess. She always wanted the castle to house a lovely little princess.

With little option she walked behind Prince Merrick who wrestled another noble boy to the ground. They were laughing loudly, narrowly spilling wine resting upon the feasting table. The other noble boys cheered the chaos on.

Can you understand now why little Thea was as worrisome as she was, traveller?

She was a servant that was why the princes and noble boys never knew why she worried so. For all the fun had they’d always leave such a mess in their wake, and Thea and other servants would be tasked to clean up after them.

Merrick won the play-fight and offered his hand down to the other boy. It was graciously received and very princely of him. Thea could see the makings of a great king; for he was blood of the king and heir apparent. She saw him grimace upon seeing her, knowing Thea never condoned his rough housing for it made her uneasy. She cried when afraid and she knew no one liked it but Thea could hardly stop herself from doing so. Merrick and the others would openly mock her for it and she earned herself the title Thea the Banshee. 

'Your brother left the feast.' She sat beside him.

'I know.'

'Aren’t you worried?'

'Why would I be?' He glanced around watching for any eyes that surveyed them. Taking a goblet filled with spiced wine, he offered it her way. 'I heard my father once explaining to the knights that this drink helped him worry much less.' Thea sniffed, smelling the sweetness her mouth slowly watered. With a tiny sip she sputtered, frowning as she hurried away to wash out the taste. The sound of Merrick's laughter chased after her.

How fondly I think back, to the pranks of children. Have you experienced such things, traveller? Yes, I see it in your eyes now, you’ve seen many things though you seldom speak of it.

Once Jarin left he read his new book vaguely remembering the day his father perished; the day he saw two dragons dance across the deep night sky, breathing down a flurry of fire red and blue. It wasn't that which haunted him however, but the sound of his sweet mother weeping, smiling sadly down at him. He remembered her calling the dragons soulless creatures, making Jarin wonder how she knew for sure they were indeed soulless. For that matter, what was a soul and had he one of his own? He scratched his head bemused by it all. Then his thoughts drifted towards the cave and the strange girl… Jarin smiled, thinking of her attire and the way she laughed-- the kind you’d hear that sent shivers up your spine. He recalled the brilliant shimmer of the cave walls and rubbed his still-sore nose a reminder of the fall he took. Speaking to no one he mused aloud, 'perhaps I shall return on the morrow and see her again.' With a loud yawn and a good stretch, he laid down on his plush bed and drifted off into the world dreams.

How I do wonder what it was he dreamed of. He was a quiet sort of boy and none who met him ever fully understood how his mind worked. Much like you, dear traveller… you remind me of the prince in the story. You’re quiet, leaving me to wonder who you truly are... Now, how about that tea?

 

3: The Very First

You're up I see. Do not fret, traveller. My tea is of a special make I’ve been told it has a calming effect. Now come, I will tell you more while I make us a bite to eat...

The days came and went and Jarin had yet to return to the cave. Despite his curiosity he was still frightened. Many questions plagued his inquisitive mind: Was she dangerous or mad? Why was she in there and where had she come from? Was she still there? As it was, his hesitance made him earnest in thinking that if he were to return, he’d not do it alone. Mulling over the many thoughts, Merrick entered his sanctuary propping down beside Jarin, who was almost certain he was hiding from Thea.

'You know, brother,' began Merrick, 'by how often you read one would think you a steward, or a scholar.' Jarin rolled his eyes, knowing Merrick thought it sounded insulting. He knew Merrick valued strength above all else. So, he straightened his back and raised his chin in a way so regal it made Merrick scoff. 'It wasn't a compliment, stupid.'

'I know,' Jarin remained proud. With a great stretch Merrick stood asking him to play. This made Jarin think of the cave once more and his oath to not return alone. 'I just thought of the most exciting of games.' His little brother brightened hopping excitedly. He begged Jarin to tell him. 'It will test our courage, and we shall see who is most kingly.'

'Do tell, I bet I would beat you!'

'We return to the cave!' Merrick blanched looking akin to a frightened animal backed into a corner. You wouldn’t have guessed he was born from a courageous lineage. He shook his head furiously. However, Jarin remained adamant and wielding a flurry of finely posed words with his silver tongue, he’d somehow convinced Merrick into returning.

I tell you, Prince Jarin was a boy of many thoughts and with many thoughts, he’d seek out answers to whatever extent. Just as you... Why is it you travelled so far just to hear a tale from an old woman like me? Do you think them to be true, traveller? Silence? That is a good answer…

Again, they took horses without permission, urging their mounts into a gallop to outrun the fear. They decided to arm themselves and Jarin thought it lucky then he’d been gifted so many weapons for his birthday. Upon returning to the cave they fell silent, danger loomed over them as thick as a raincloud. Somehow, they’d convinced themselves it truly was a test laid before them; that if they passed, they were worthy of their titles. Such is the way of children after all.

Jarin looked to his little brother finding Merrick looking back. Had they not been so afraid they’d have laughed at the expressions on their faces. Merrick, being the braver of the two gripped the pommel of his chosen short sword and nodded towards the entrance.

'Now or never!' He tried smiling, but it came out more a grimace.

'Now or never…' Jarin agreed, focusing on the dagger resting on his hip. Off they went, bringing a torch to light the way through the darkest parts of the cave. Though once lit the two immediately wished they hadn't the light to see. Scattered about was a trail of bones of all kinds; what looked to be human, animal, and-- much to Jarin's horror, dragon bones. It was a wonder they hadn't tripped over them when they first explored. Their screams echoed deep into the cave and once the scare passed, they laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Merrick urged his older brother forward promising to watch his back. Though Jarin felt there wasn’t any danger to be found behind, only ahead. Gathering his big-brother courage he soldiered on. He led the way ever deeper trying painfully to ignore the hollow gazes of the skulls, haunted by whatever it was that had killed them. Once they found the glow at the end of the cave, they put out their torch.

'Ready?' Jarin whispered. Merrick merely nodded holding tight to his sword. They continued until overlooking where the crystal had been. Then they spotted the girl laying with her back turned to them, right where they left her. If she’d been normal, they’d have whisked her back to the castle and claimed themselves heroes. Such was the ways of any good prince in any good fable, saving damsels in distress. Though this was no fable, and she no damsel. The only thing that seemed to align with that narrative was how distressed she seemed to be. After a good long while of thinking and uncertainty, Merrick called out to her.

‘Hello?' There was no reply. Jarin’s mind flooded with bad thoughts. Had she died of loneliness? Of starvation? Was it his fault? Guilt plagued him and he felt he his honour compromised. They clambered down cautiously, not like their previous attempt. Once safely planted they tip-toed cautiously thinking her dead. Merrick signalled Jarin to unsheathe his dagger.

'Just in case.' He mouthed wordlessly. Finally reaching her with only a step between them they tried to glance at her face, startled to see her eyes opened wide with a grin too large to be human. Her gaze was blank and endless staring at the cavern wall.

'It has been a long time.' Her voice trembled with what Jarin could only pin as delight. They stood shaking, oh, but how they could not mask themselves with bravery the weapons they clutched promised. She sat up so fast that should they have blinked they’d have never seen her move.

'W-who are you? Why were you in that…thing?' Jarin stumbled back. She inhaled sharply, shutting her stern eyes as if to recall the reason.

'I was imprisoned… by those I hold dear.' Her eyes opened once more looking between the two boys, then her brows furrowed as if some form of realization struck. She examined her hands, bringing them to her face; touches became more frantic as her eyes widened in horror. Jarin could almost see her trauma flash before her. She clutched tightly at her arms and cried out in anger. So powerful was this cry that the cavern overhead rumbled. Though long ago, Jarin heard that same mighty bellow before—one of anger and pain. The kind that could only belong to a dragon. He dropped his dagger in fear and pulled his younger brother back.

'What are you?' He shouted, struggling to hear himself through her cries. He knew the answer already, he just needed to hear the creature say it. She looked up towards the boys with blazing eyes. Her brows furrowed deeply; her mouth twisted into a snarl. Jarin could just make out a slight set of fangs.

'I am the one that came before all. The one that raised the ashes of the first fires of the earth! The most powerful...!”

'Say it!' Jarin screamed almost as fiercely as she.

Can you guess what she was, dear traveller? Yes, you know well. She was a dragon. The very first one at that...

 

4: Damsel in Distress

By that glint in your eye, I’d gander your interests lie in dragons themselves. Your clothes are foreign and ragged, which tells me you’ve come from a far-off way. For what? All to hear a tale that may not be true. Oh, how I wonder about you, traveller...

It hadn’t gone unnoticed when the princes wandered off. That day Thea's mother had been placed in the kitchen alongside her grandmother. As it was, cooking for an entire castle was gruelling work and naturally Thea's mother enlisted her help. She’d been up since the early morning, peeling various vegetables and fetching water from the well in the courtyard. The girl was tired, but it was nothing new. By then, her tiny hands began to break into that of a worker; growing small callouses here and there, her fingernails almost constantly breaking.

'After this you may have a rest, little one.' Her mother promised with a smile. She wiped the sweat forming on her brow, sending her off for yet more water. The promise of rest fueled her all the way to the well. She hummed and swung the bucket back and forth until she reached it, hoisting the pail and using the pulley. She watched the squires train alongside the knights, all of which were lined up practicing stances as Sir Borin walked in between each man barking orders, his right-hand man walked at his side. Thea knew him as Sir Oliver, he’d a solemn regality to him; high cheek bones and piercing dark eyes. Rarely would anyone ever see him without his hair slicked back. Some folks had thought that was why his brows were always arched so high, this included young Thea. He was somber and mysterious, and one would not guess that he was only ten years her senior.

Many people were frightened of Sir Oliver, he was a high born with a great lord as a father. Rumours spread claiming for years his parents tried to have a child to succeed them only to find that his mother was barren. It was said they sought the magic of the wood elves to help conceive Sir Oliver. This would not have been such an issue if it wasn't known that wood elves were in league with the dragons. They worshipped them like gods and refused to aid the humans even when entire kingdoms would fall at the behest of the scaled beasts. Because of that people feared him from afar not daring to get on his bad side. It hadn't helped that he’d always looked so disinterested, though Thea was sure he meant nothing by it. She personally found him nice for there were times when she’d hide to cry about something trying in her day. Many people avoided her as well because of it but Sir Oliver doted on her. Once, he’d torn fabric from his tunic just to wipe her eyes. He was kind to little Thea and because of it she considered him to be her first love.

Do you not think it wonderful, traveller? The innocence of children is something to be nurtured, to be sure...

'Perhaps one day, I may serve Sir Oliver...' She smiled dreamily to herself, still working at the pulley. Her child-like musings broke by harsh whisperings heard by the stables. It hadn't taken Thea very long to figure out to whom they belonged. Sure enough, the two princes were intimidating the stable boy into preparing horses for them. There was only one place Thea knew that would capture their interests. They seldom ever decided upon an activity together. Her mind raced with the thought of that scary cave. Though the princes never truly told her what they discovered she knew it must have been terrible. She simply couldn’t let them venture on! She clenched hard at the rope watching the retreating forms of the princes who laughed excitedly. It was then that Thea abandoned her serving duty and any hopes of rest. She knew as she ran towards the knights that her mother would strike her for abandoning her chores, but she would suffer any burden for her friends.

Nearly toppled over more than once by the vigorous trainees, she didn’t falter until she clung to Sir Borin, feeling her eyes sting. The old knight sighed at the sight of her clearly not in the mood to deal with her tears, so with a quivering voice she explained as best any child could. With a handful of knights Sir Borin and Oliver brought Thea along to show them the way to the cave. It took longer to find as she hadn't quite remembered the way and, in the end, they simply resorted to tracking them using tactics they’d employ on a hunting trip. They followed the fresh tracks of horses until they came upon the cave. Near the entrance the prince’s horses were tied around a small, twisted oak whinnying nervously as the mountain shook. A loud bellow streamed from the cave. Thea watched Sir Borin dismount and pull free his weapon in a fit of fury.

'Men, With me!' He ordered with a gruff voice. Thea nervously clenched the reigns of the horse.

'Do not fear, Thea. Should anything happen you just run back home.' Sir Oliver patted her hand reassuringly before following the others.

_________________________________________________________________

Inside, the princes become more aware of the impending cave-in. Large rocks tumbled down, barely missing them by a foot.

'Merrick, come on!' Jarin yanked his brother who’d been shaking like a leaf but surprisingly resisted, inching towards what he perceived to be a girl. In Jarin's mind his little brother still thought it a competition of courage.'Merrick!'

'She is in distress just like the stories!' Merrick replied, 'princes must always help damsels in distress!' Jarin clenched his teeth in anxiety having no desire to even look upon the dragon-girl any longer. Why did such creatures deserve to exist when his father had been reduced to nothing but a shadow? Yet something inside compelled him, and he wondered what it was about having a little brother that made him so brave.

Do you have family of your own, traveller? You are searching for someone dear to you, don’t deny it. I can see it plainly written across your face... I am alone in this world, but I will always have my stories. But I digress, on with the tale...

Jarin threw his brother back and ordered him to make for the entrance. He balled his fists forcing himself towards the girl. His mother’s words from long ago egged him on: Come, sweetling, onward. With no time to waste he bit back the fear of having to touch the creature as both their lives were at stake. He grabbed hold of her hand flinching at the touch of her icy skin. He refused retract his grip, instead pulling her forward and forcing her to climb to the exit. He’d seen his brother waiting at the top for them and grabbed his hand as well yanking both through the darkness until they were met with the dim light of an orange flame; knights of the castle held torches ahead.

'Sir Borin!' Jarin cried upon seeing his old friend.

'Prince Jarin!'

'The cave is going to collapse!' The entire company ran back, narrowly escaping the cave in. One knight nearly had the misfortune of losing his foot from the incident.

Sir Borin embraced Jarin tightly, breathing hard from the over exertion. Jarin was not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, being taught to him long ago that it was his duty to remain composed especially in the presence of company. Yet he’d revisited so much pain and fear in so little time, escaping the clutches of death for a second time; saving a creature he swore his enemy. But in that moment, he found he’d be forgiven for crying just once. So, he clutched at Sir Borin who’d acted something like a father to him with no shame.

Merrick sniffed running his arm along his nose. The experience left him worse for wear, but he refused to cry. Instead, he raised his head high and mustering all his courtly courtesies, extended a hand to the girl who’d taken to sitting with her legs crossed upon a stone a nearby stone.

5: Dracaena

Oh traveller, how they feared her when Jarin and Sir Borin told the king of what she was. They locked her in a tower half believing in what was spoken. Some nobles whispered that the dragon girl was mad-- that there was no way she could be what was claimed. There were so many questions, but as we know, sometimes answers only come at the end of a tale…

Jarin shivered at the mere thought of the creature being in the same vicinity. What worried him the most was Merrick’s clear-as-glass infatuation with her; taking to offering to deliver her meals, descending sometime later with a large smile on his face. Whatever conversations they shared nagged at Jarin. For one, he couldn’t deny his curiosity about her either-- his pride denied him to ask. He did his best to occupy his mind from drifting towards her, reading more books than he’d ever before. Soon he became so lost within the fantasies he came to forget to eat his meals. The king and Sir Borin grew more worried as time passed openly voicing their displeasure of his self-neglect.

‘You’re much too thin,’ said his stepfather.

For the most part the dragon girl seemed completely harmless not speaking to anyone aside from Merrick. When she was of a mind to indulge them, she’d be curt but polite, nodding and bowing her head. She was well reserved and soon suspicions of her dissolved into nothing but worry.

'Surely she is but a girl.' The king would say seeking advice from Sir Borin one of his closest friends.

'Prince Jarin believes otherwise.' Sir Borin would never openly disagree with his king, nor would he doubt his prince who sat slumped in his chair with a deep frown etched into his face. Jarin used all the strength in his bones to stay his tongue.

'Put her to work with young Thea, she is gentle and will nurture the girl back to health.' The king ordered, thus concluding their little meeting. Much to Jarin's chagrin he’d look down upon the courtyard and see Thea and the dragon, who people began calling Dracaena, roaming free. Once, as Jarin watched the two sweep the courtyard clean he noticed Dracaena stop and stare up at the sky. A look of longing passed her face as the silhouettes of birds dancing in the air circled overhead. The light of the sun pierced down making the vast infinite sky seem all-the-more unobtainable. Jarin gasped as a sharp pain in his chest began to spread and make his entire body ache with sorrow. Somehow, he knew the pain was hers.

How did he feel the pain of Dracaena? Why... you are clever! Their connection went beyond empathy. Do you truly not know? Fret not, for all will be explained...

Merrick was enchanted by the girl that much was clear. The small bits of conversation he revealed to Jarin proved as much.

'People say you are a dragon,' Merrick claimed to have said. 'You said so yourself.' Dracaena would only smile no longer as aggressive as she’d been in the cavern. 'Why do you speak so little?'

'To balance your chatter,' she’d reply.

'Can you fly?'

'No more than you.' Merrick confided in his brother exactly why he’d found her so interesting.

“Imagine taming a Dragon, Jarin. My name would go down in history!”

One night, Jarin woke, bleary eyed to Merrick standing over him with a mischievous grin. He was dressed for travel in commoners clothing holding some for Jarin too.

'What do you want?' Jarin asked annoyed only to have breeches thrown into his face.

'An adventure! You’ll be cured of your fear and I’ll be known straight across all of Veriane!' Jarin gained no further explanation and was led to the servant’s quarters. Many cots were set up in a neat row the last of the candles flickered and burned low. He waited outside with crossed arms aching to return to bed. Merrick hadn't woken him in the middle of the night in years. The last he did was due to wetting the bed from a nightmare. He slept in Jarin's own that night because he was too ashamed to face the servants who’d clean it.

When Merrick emerged with Thea who wore her day dress (the one made of scratchy material he’d detested) he cocked his head in confusion and asked why he grabbed Thea. Usually, Jarin was the kinder of the two, but his sleep deprivation left him with little to no tact. He was a prince through and through, luxuries keeping him spoiled.

'You can't think us to travel without a servant, now can you?' Merrick explained.

'Are we to travel? Shall I pack a lunch? I really should kiss my mummy good-bye!' Thea turned back to gather the things she needed only to be stopped by Merrick.

'We’ll be gone longer than that I'm afraid. You can't kiss her good-bye either. No one can know we’re leaving, else they won't let us.' Thea began to cry and both princes rolled their eyes knowing she’d not refuse them anyway.

'Alright, Merrick. Where are we going?'

'To find the elves.' Dracaena's strong voice startled all present. She set down packs she’d gathered for their trip. To Dracaena the princes and Thea were like dolls- only little things to be played with. She’d a task in mind and impossible or no, she would see it fulfilled.

'What is she doing here?' Jarin protectively held his arm out in front of his brother and Thea.

'Are you to come as well?' Thea rubbed away her tears. Dracaena ignored the two youngest, eyes locked with Jarin's.

'Honestly, Jarin! you haven't been acting yourself.’' Merrick walked from his brother’s protection yanking Thea along with him. He stood alone then, heart dropping at the thought of being placed in the role he thought belonged to Dracaena, a villain. It was then he saw pain cross the dragon’s face as she clenched at her chest with claw-like nails; entire expression contorted with contrition.

Her voice rang in his head, echoing so loud it caused his head to pound.

'I feel your pain.'

'Jarin?' Merrick asked worriedly.

'Prince Jarin?' asked Thea much the same. The eldest prince felt excitement and fear golden hair feathered over his eyes as he gazed up at Dracaena.

'And I yours.' She had a feral smile when offering her hand to him.

'We are connected now, little prince. What a terrible thing... Luckily our enemies are the same.'

'I want the Dragons pay for what they did.' He recalled Dracaena mentioning something about those dear to her betraying her… Who or what could be dear to a dragon but other dragons? Again, he thought of his mother’s words; about how they were soulless. Dracaena nodded clasping hands with Jarin. It was this first instance he felt that much closer of ridding the world of the pain he felt. Their adventure would end in revenge.

Well, traveller, you seem to have gone on quite an adventure yourself. Have you found all you’ve searched for here in my kitchen? Oh, how the mystery around you piles high, dear. I’ve so many questions… Will you share your story when mine is done?

 

6: Freedom's Kiss

Dreams are said to be the innermost desires of one’s heart. There are many interpretations as to what dreams may mean. What about you, traveller? Do you believe they hold a deeper meaning?

The day passed quickly as they traversed through the ever-thickening woods. The children were excited to be on a real adventure of their own, even Thea managed to stop crying. What would it entail? What brutal enemy would they face-down in the end? Ah, their minds raced with possibilities.

The two youngest slowed their pace by playing tag and searching for shiny rocks and mushrooms resembling mischievous magpies prowling for prizes. The children's games stopped once Merrick picked a bad plant which forming a terrible rash on his hands and face.

'I told you not to touch your face, my mum always told me that whenever I got a rash on my hands.' Thea chided Merrick as he pouted in defeat. At the suggestion of Dracaena, Thea applied mud to help soothe it though that too turned into a game as they began to throw mudballs back and forth 

When night fell, they stopped to rest never truly having travelled so far least of all by foot. By the time they sat the children felt as though their legs would fall off. They settled into their bedrolls, too frightened to start a fire lest bandits were drawn to the flame. Jarin much preferred taking his chances with a wild animal.

Thea disagreed, though she kept that to herself. They couldn’t reason with wild animals the same they could with bandits. With no fire to keep her worries at bay she inched her bedroll closer to Jarin's. He didn’t shoo her for his own anxieties were building as well. To Jarin, Thea’s snotty face was a comfort so far from home. It wasn't long before their deep breaths harmonized, and dreams overtook them.

Dracaena stood when she was sure the children were lulled into sleep. She cast her sharp gaze towards the moonlight; the canopy of the trees a silhouette framing the sky. Oh, how she longed for it-- how she wished to feel the caress of winds against her phantom scales; the skin she wore felt wrong as though it were a binding wrapped too tight. For all the days she spent alone in the tower she’d scrape away skin on her back and her sides, only successful in drawing blood. She couldn’t breathe in those times. She dared not. Her gaze shifted away from the moon in case her heavy thoughts woke Jarin. They were connected by no choice of hers, just another form of imprisonment. 

Jarin dreamt of his mother and father. Oh, how they doted on his every move spoiling him with love and gentleness. Though he was shown kindness still, he felt he was loved only for sake of his mother. The love he’d been privy to before was all but gone. The vision of his smiling parents was so real had Jarin not been sleeping he would have wept and ached to touch them again. 

'Oh, my sweetling,' whispered his mother.

'My strong boy,' laughed his father. Jarin again saw the wrinkles that lined his eyes and mouth when he smiled and reached out to them with trembling hands. Everything slipped away then. His dreams rippled like a disturbed lake. His vision fogged and cleared at once, and all Veriane laid beneath him. Then forests of Yorthas and its kingdoms, lakes, and mountains. Everything was small and he hadn't a care in the world. The sky was his mother and the wind on his skin her kiss. The smell of the air was sweet as it whispered songs of freedom. What a dream it was! He soared and glided, sometimes intentionally falling until mere inches from crashing into the ground before propelling himself upwards with mighty wings; trees below cracked and splintered from the gust summoned beneath.

'Higher, until I reach the heavens!' He laughed, warm sun above beckoning him closer and closer. Just as soon as he thought he’d reach it a cruel force pulled him earthbound. It was cold as it shredded into his skin. He cried out in agony as he descended knowing he’d crash-- how could he stop it? The wind no longer rung with promises of freedom instead came a chanting:

'Traitor, traitor, traitor.' 

The gloomy morning greeted them with dark clouds hanging overhead rumbling fierce. Thea began handing out apples for breakfast as they repacked their belongings. 

'How much farther?' Merrick complained.

'We’ve only walked for a day, besides this was your dumb idea,' Jarin grumbled, still upset with his lingering dreams. He flew, had wings and everything! Jarin gazed at Dracaena who waited patiently with her back turned. 'Was it you?' Jarin willed his thoughts to reach her, seeing her shoulders stiffen before she turned to lock eyes with him. 

'The forest changed since last I've seen,' she told them. 'I’m certain it won't be much longer though.' Her remark clearly settled Merrick, he smiled broadly straight after taking to walk with her all morning. Thea lagged behind so Jarin took it upon himself to hold tight to her hand in case she got lost. 

'Do you think they know we’re gone?' Thea asked with shortened breaths. 'I know my mum must be so worried--Sir Oliver, too.' She worried about the adventure the most, that much was certain. Was it a wise decision to leave home? Would they survive if they encountered a hungry bear, or a territorial buck? And if they ran into bandits, would they be so callous as to murder children? She asked Jarin all these things, and found her eyes wandering to the sword cinched to Jarin's waist. Merrick had one as well. They’d given her a dagger-- what good it did her! She never held anything sharper than a sewing needle and on occasion a small knife to peel vegetables. What was more, Thea knew well of the animosity held between elves and humans too often hearing stories, though most of the time it was an attempt to keep her from exploring the woods. 

'They are savages, little bird,' Thea's mother would tell her. 'Worshippers of demons.' That was all it took for Thea to never even dream of seeking out elves. Though it did little to stop her from admiring Sir Oliver. 

'My mother once told me that elves are scant of dress.' Thea regaled as they stepped over fallen logs. From up ahead Merrick called back.

'Your mum is stupid!' He had listened to her conversation because Dracaena wouldn’t speak both she and Jarin knew.

'Shut-up, Merrick.' Jarin called noticing Thea's eyes welling. 

'Everyone knows elves only wear the finest things,' he continued. At times Merrick was merciless towards Thea, though Jarin doubted it was intentional. He was a boy who acted before thinking and often after he and Thea fought, one could plainly see the guilt written on his face. He’d always apologize later bringing her small gifts as peace offerings; usually they’d be wildflowers, or sweets he snagged from the kitchens and always kind Thea forgave him. 

Jarin stopped suddenly, the sound of Merrick and Thea bickering drifted off far away replaced with ringing sounding off like an alarm of impending danger. His senses heightened and he could only attribute the attuned awareness to Dracaena, who also seemed on high alert.

'What is it?' He inched closer, watching her narrowed eyes. A primal nature took root in her, so she bared her teeth and flashed her small fangs.

Well, traveller? Have you any thoughts on dreams? What do they mean? Are they visions of past or future? Be they a window to our innermost desires? Ah, traveller, have you a dream of your own?

 

7: Lament of the Berura

Dragons are strongly built, their scales near impenetrable, their breath so fierce they exhale fire. None can blame the wood elves for falling to their knees in reverence, and oh-- how they worshipped. Humans are different, they are soft no matter the armour and clothes they drape themselves in. Yet they defy beings far superior, fighting them knowing there is no hope to see the end of battle. They do not fall to their knees in worship. Instead, they raise their heads higher in defiance. Traveller, I cannot help but feel that humans, though feeble in comparison, have a will equal to that of Gods…

The two princes drew their swords towards the rustling bushes, placing themselves between a cowering Thea and the impending danger. Even if they’d been trained for battle since young, they were yet boys who never truly tested their steel in combat. Jarin was so deathly afraid that Dracaena felt it slip into her heart. This enraged her more than ever, hating the fickle emotions of humans. She focused her anger on the bushes and as if on demand an elven woman ran out, stumbling mere inches away from their blades. She fell back, panting heavily and they saw in her arms a babe bundled in layers of blankets cradled close to her chest. Dracaena, ever wild in her nature, sprung on the elf who cried out in fear. She twisted away and curled tightly into a ball sobbing and hugging the babe. Jarin and Merrick dropped their weapons without a second thought in attempt to rip the rabid girl off the poor woman.

'Cut it out!' Jarin summoned all his might and somehow cast her aside. Dracaena cursed her body for being so frail. Had she her old claws or fangs that could rent any shield asunder all would tremble before her. She snarled seeming more animal than human, a clear reminder to Jarin of what she truly was: an enemy whom he allied himself with. His heart filled with doubt and pushed aside any sympathy he might have come to feel. No longer would he lower his guard at the behest of a simple dream. Yet, those weren’t simple dreams but memories that bled into his heart. How could he shield himself from such a thing?

'Look out!' Thea cried in a shrill voice, dispelling any tension amongst them. It all happened so quickly that none of the children could comprehend much of anything. Nets flew from all about covering the children and woman, binding them where they stood. Like flies on a web, they struggled only successful in entangling themselves further.

From out the woods came a band of finely armoured elves marching swiftly with pensive faces marked with tattoos of various patterns as they bounded straight towards them in a most intimidating manner. Their helmets were horned with the bones of Dragons and their weapons engraved with runes of flame. Heat emitted from the spears and arrows wielded. The skill of elven crafting is something to be revered, indeed.

They were surrounded and in their panic the children sought to quell their fears in each other, so they all reached out to grasp one another's hands.

'It's alright,' Jarin placed a mask of indifference upon his face in attempts to reassure Merrick and Thea. 'We'll be fine.' He bravely turned to meet the elves summoning all the regality the net would allow. It was all for naught as none of the elves seemed to have the slightest interest, instead their gazes were fixed upon Dracaena who’d somehow managed to slip away from the traps hurled towards them. Jarin remembered the way she’d moved when they found her. And he thought things were bad back then! A foolish thing in contrast to their current predicament.

Dracaena was angry at the princes for staying her lust for blood and angry towards the elves who held her temporary kith captive. A sliver of worry wormed its way into her fierce dragon heart, an emotion that no doubt belonged to the prince of which she then shared her life.

A soldier removed his horned helmet and stepped towards the children. Dark braided hair fell down his shoulder as he secured his helmet between his arm and torso. The children couldn’t help but let their eyes settle upon his pointed ears. By and by they were drawn in by his dark alluring eyes, a single brow arched lightly in surprise.

'Y-you better remove this ratty old net!' Jarin hoped they missed the way he stuttered in fear.

'And who are you to order me, boy?' He had a light accent never heard by the brothers or Thea before. With a nod of his head his men removed the nets. Though they’d done as asked Jarin knew it was not by his demand for he’d no power amongst the elves. Merrick silently reached for his fallen sword only to stay his hand when a spear was pointed at his neck. 'Careful, boy. Our weapons are still trained on you.'

Then the soldiers trudged towards the woman and her babe, roughly pulling her to her feet. Oh, how she wailed, doing her best to speak through the tears. They needn't had understood their language to know that it was her child she begged for. Yet they still ripped child from mother with no remorse. She fell to her knees then reaching out for the baby who slept away the tragedy unfurling.

'Oh no!' Thea cried, 'you mustn’t!' She ran towards the crying woman who paid her little mind as she continued to plead. The elven leader looked disdainfully towards Thea. A flicker in his eyes told Jarin that he admired her bravery but scorned its timing.

'That is no concern of yours, little girl.'

'Give her baby back! You have to-' Her words were forced back into her mouth with a heavy hand. Thea had been struck many times by her mother before, but somehow there was a love behind it. There was no love in that strike.

'Hey!' Merrick yelled, charging blindly only to be struck down by the blunt end of the soldier’s spear thrust into his stomach. Jarin clenched his fists worry faded into anger.

'Are you understanding?' The leader of the band of soldiers circled them with an elegance lost on any human. 'Humans, children at that, have no power here. This is the elven realm.'

'All realms belong to the dragons.' Dracaena stepped forward to meet their weapons. When overwhelmed by emotions she always seemed to forget she was no longer indestructible. Her aloofness only came off as bravado.

'And pray tell, what you know about the dragons?' He walked slowly, looking at her as if she were beneath him with a mocking half smirk.

'Bend your knee, elf., I am sire to your gods.' She puffed with pride in seeing his eyes widen in fright. His company followed suit, circling her alone then. The elf turned to the children looking furious then. 'Do you know her?' They nodded in response. 'How did you meet?'

'We rescued her-'

'Shut up, Merrick!' Jarin interjected. His generous nature lost with how poorly they treated his brother and Thea. To give the elves anything freely was simply out of the question by then.

'Rescued from what? Answer me!' The elven leader grabbed Merrick by his collar and shook him.

'Sh- she was in a crystal--- In a cave!' Merrick yelled slipping free from the man's loosened grasp.

'You've fallen into things beyond your ken.' He almost sounded sympathetic. They were all stood and bounded one by one with a finely woven rope spun from a spider's web. Not the tiny spiders you'd see creeping along in forgotten corners of your home, no, the spiders used were much larger than what you know; much deadlier. The same was done to Dracaena, though they approached her hesitantly. She pondered then that power was not only found in strength alone but words as well. Her gaze found Jarin, he was wise in weaving words much like the spiders that created the rope tying her wrists. Did that make him powerful?

Jarin begrudgingly did as was told. He was of royal blood and couldn’t bear to be treated any less. Though something told him to conceal his prestigious lineage in fear they might use him in some way.

'Had I been in my true form I would have burned them all to dust,' Dracaena mused, feeling his scorn for being treated as a lesser.

'Had they been in our realm I'd have them thrown in cells and lost the key,' Jarin countered with a thought of his own.

They were led through the forest for some time, the farther they travelled the colder the wind blew. A light mist slowly descended and the world around them was cast in an eerie silver veil that Jarin could only describe as magic. The air was soft and sweet, thick with the smell of ripened berries and lilac flowers. So lovely was this change, so different, that the children had all but forgotten to be afraid. Even Thea stopped crying when she spotted a creature emerging from the bark of a tree. It looked much like any human only it had wings like a moth, shimmering like morning dew stuck to the petal of a flower caught in the first light of day. It wore no clothing and if it did Thea felt it would only disrupt its true beauty. With a tiny hand it waved as she was marched along with her elven jailers. Thea returned its greeting with a big toothy smile, missing how quickly it reeled back into its hidey-hole as Dracaena passed. They descended a gentle slope, where they were greeted with the sight of two great pillars of marble proudly erected at the entrance of a sealed stone door. On it was engraved with various intricate patterns that matched the tattoos placed upon the faces of the elves. Laurel leaves hung loosely about framing the door with their blooming white flowers. As they drew closer the markings on the stone began to glow, their tattoos mirroring it with a faint blue glimmer.

With a wave of the elven leader's hand the door scraped open, upon its opening their ears were struck with the sound of song; a gentle tune drifting upon the wind and chanting that filled their hearts with grief making the dark passage ahead uninviting.

'What a sad song…' Thea spoke softly, looking towards the sobbing woman who was still separated from her babe. Even though the child in question was but a few feet behind her carried by an elf.

'Who's singing?' Merrick asked his brother. He was instead answered by the leader of the soldiers.

'What you are hearing is the choir of the berura,' he held up his hand and cupped it to his mouth, muttering a light incantation before opening his hand and revealing an orb of light. Thea and the princes watched in wonder. How was it elves were not sovereign rule instead of dragons? If they used their magic against them then surely...

'What does that mean? Berura?' Merrick did his best to roll his tongue as the elf had earning a smile from the leader.

'In your tongue it would translate to pure one, or clean. The berura are priests and priestesses who’ve completely devoted themselves to the gods,' his gaze settled on Dracaena and Jarin's eyes followed, understanding what he meant.

'Dragons...' he muttered to himself. The elf nodded in affirmation.

'What are they saying?' Thea asked with closed eyes as she took in the music.

'I cannot find the words for it,' he listened as Thea had, dark eyes closed as he breathed in the chant. 'It is a lament- a preparation for the dirge they will sing soon after.'

'A dirge?' Jarin wondered who it was that died. It was then Dracaena laughed breaking the culminating peace.

'For the sacrificial lamb. To think my children would ask this of you.' She continued to laugh but there was no humour to be found in her words. Jarin pieced it all together. The elven woman who was fleeing with her baby… was her child a sacrifice to the dragons?

'Our offerings to the gods are of our own volition,' the elven leader gripped the hilt of his sword, 'for they are want for nothing...'

‘Except a mother,’ Dracaena whispered more to herself. And with that they were ushered through the dark pass guided only by the summoned orb. The darkness cleared after some time and the narrow passage opened to a completely different world. Larger orbs of light like the one summoned hung amidst the branches of the great laurels, their pale leaves shone in its radiance; their barks white as snow engraved with carvings of elvish words painted gold. Connecting the trees were sturdy bridges where the choir stood in plain sight. They sung, voices ringing strong and proud. They wore white robes nearly transparent and all of them with shaven heads. The light of the floating orbs seemed to cause halos to appear behind them; they looked so angelic... so pure.

Upon the floor were hedges formed into homes where the elves lived. The leader spoke again giving his men orders prompting them to march off thereafter. They whisked away the woman and her babe through a hall made by the very same hedges.

‘You three will follow Amine,’ he spoke in a voice that seemed to lack the strength he had when they first met. Another of his men stepped forward removing his own helmet. A youthful face greeted them; he’d golden hair that was softly tousled from the removal of his head gear with a long braid unfurled down the mid of his back. He smiled gently with similar golden eyes sparkled in the silver light of the Elven Realm. As he ushered them in an opposite direction, Merrick quickly spun away from him.

‘Wait!’ He turned tugging Jarin to see Dracaena being pulled deeper into a darker path. ‘Where are you taking Dracaena? I want to be with Dracaena!’

‘Me too!’ Thea panicked.

‘Stop it! Both of you, this was a stupid idea! Just listen to them and maybe we'll get to go home!’ Combining his strength with Amine Jarin attempted to pull them away. They only dug their heels into the floor throwing tantrums like toddlers. Thea wailed and Merrick rolled on the floor. Amine looked desperately towards Jarin, though he’d no idea how to calm them for it usually fell upon one of the maids or Sir Borin to reprimand Merrick when he caused an uproar, and Thea… well, it was best just to let Thea cry until she could cry no more.

Dracaena spoke looking unimpressed, 'I thought I travelled with children, not pigs.' She raised her chin as if disgusted by an offensive odour. 'Come, elf. Take me to your, oh, what did you call your kings? Your Atarah.' And off she went not sparing them another glance.

'Dracaena!' Merrick called after her. Jarin could see tears forming but the younger prince was quick to rub them away. There was a slight tinge in his heart; he was sure Merrick and Thea must have felt as abandoned as he. This was not the adventure his brother hoped for and Thea only wanted to return home with her friends. Feeling a bit put off by the situation Jarin allowed Amine to lead them forward. Dracaena had said that they would both get revenge but how were they to do that when they were prisoners? He felt very silly for believing in the words of a dragon. The best thing for them was to return home if their captors permitted.

How disappointed they all were… Ah, traveller, how life beats the hope from our bones. I think Prince Jarin began to lament as well. Lament for the dreams that seemed to be slipping from his grasp. Do not make such a sour face, traveller. You think they gave up so easily? Why, if they had there’d not be much more of the tale to tell!

 

 

8: Curse of Mortality

There were many sacred things to elves; the trees and earth they tread upon, their hymns, their families, blood… and yes, dragons most of all. Oh, but traveller, if gods are what we must aspire to, that which keeps us on the right path, I wonder if gods ever feel lost without that very guidance they provide.

But Dracaena did not feel a god amongst mortals then; all bound and cursed. She felt her power contained somewhere deep within her heart and could her dragon soul ever allow her to weep at least once she’d do so for her lost glory.

Along a large winding way they went deeper into the darkness of the forest. And how chilly it was! Her breath came out in perfect white puffs of steam as they trekked closer to the atarah. How odd it was for all the animosity held between elves and humans they were so very similar. She feared that if ever they united against her children-- but that was but a fleeting thought, one she needn’t worry about.

By and by, she heard the crunch of snow beneath her feet, illuminating each step she took. It clung to the trees and hedges in the darkness. It was not a normal snow of that she was certain. They came to a circular temple which was home to the atarah of the wood elves. Its walls decorated in murals of dragons of all kinds; some that dwelled within the deepest waters, some that ruled the sky, lords of mountains and forests. Oh, her children could make a home of any place.

The elf that led her knelt and muttered what Dracaena surmised to be a prayer. He entered, leaving his sword and other hidden weapons outside. Dracaena had no intention of showing the same respect.

'It is but stone,’ she thought. 'That and nothing more.' Passing the threshold of the temple was an odd thing. It was warmer, feeling as though she had stepped into a pocket of air like a bubble in water. The elves were strange creatures creating equally strange magic. They descended steps of shimmering marble towards three   thrones placed upon a stage. Behind the thrones was a hall guarded by two large statues of dragon heads with rubies as eyes. It’d been carved into the walls of the temple beckoning Dracaena. She felt the atarah could await her council then just so she could sate her curiosity in wondering what was beyond the thrones.

The atarah and his daughter sat upon their respective seats, the third throne unoccupied. The soldier bowed deeply upon stepping before them.

'Rise, Aviv.' And the soldier did as commanded, though his eyes remained trained on the floor. Dracaena scoffed; no chair nor title could grant power only strength itself. She promised herself that once she regained her true form, she would be sure to turn their seats into rubble.

'Atarah,' Aviv began, 'this one claims-'

'I know of what she claims,' the atarah replied in a kind voice. Though the face he showed Dracaena was anything but. 'My daughter is the eyes of the forest, Aviv. Or have you forgotten?'

'No,' he shook his head.

'Cut her loose,' ordered the atarah. 

'Atarah, I do not think-' 

'Your thoughts are of no value to me. Cut her loose.' The soldier held his open hand over the silky ropes keeping Dracaena bound, not long thereafter they untied landing neatly in his grasp.

With a wave of the atarah’s hand Aviv was dismissed. Dracaena’s gaze settled on the little elf girl. She was a small creature looking near the age of the younger prince she had travelled with, the one who doted on her every move. Though Dracaena was certain the elven princess was older than she seemed. Elven lives were not as fleeting as human lives.

The dragon and atarah were locked in a silent battle, each remembering the other from many, many years ago.

'It’s been a long time,' at last he broke the silence. 'You might remember my daughter, though she was but a bump in my wife's belly then.' He presented his daughter with an open hand. 'This is Jimena.'

'Charmed,' returned Dracaena dryly, barely considering her further. Though she soon caught on as to why he presented Jimena. 'Babette?' Her doll-like face was etched with indifference from the name mentioned. She sat with a straight back; her ankles elegantly crossed.

'Father,' came her sweet voice; it was light with joy, almost like the slight chiming of the bells tied round the neck of a pet cat. Her fiery lips had a slight curl at one side, a playfulness hidden just behind her mask of rigid courtesy. 'May I leave? I am so very curious to see what a human child is like.' Her father chuckled with eyes gleaming with adoration.

'Do not linger overlong, Jimena.' He nodded as she stood and straightened her velvet gown. 'They might curse you with their quickening.'

'Of course.' She made her way towards the exit, the click of her frilled shoes echoed throughout the temple. Dracaena watched her approach with uneasiness. The girl caused her dragon heart to quiver; a dull ache which spread through her body like a sickness that made even her bones hurt. Oh, what a cruel thing it was to see the face one of your greatest betrayers! Though Jimena was not the one who had sinned against her, no, it was her cursed mother.

'We could be of use to each other,' came Jimena's voice as she walked by. Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments before she left. Ah, but the events unfolding became curiouser and curiouser, and all at once Dracaena felt the urge to laugh. Just what laid in store for her, she wondered? Perhaps there was a silver lining to being human after all for she’d never experienced such entertainment in her true form.

'Where is Babette?' She settled.

‘She’s long since perished,' he replied with a broken voice. 'Though I do not know where, I felt it when she passed.'

'Pity, I'd have liked to kill her myself.' The atarah stood, robes flowing with his harsh jerking movements as he yelled.

'You'd dare!' He stepped towards her his anger evident by the red flecks growing within his eyes. 'How easy it would be to kill you now. How easy it would be to make you grovel at my feet!'

'Careful,' Dracaena snarled. 'I’ve no care for idle threats, elf.' A long, tense moment passed before he smiled tiredly, lowering himself back onto his throne.

'Oh,' his smile never faltered, 'how far you’ve fallen. Surely, your mind has lamed from your long sleep. You’d have thought twice coming before me in this mortal form of yours before.’

'Enough,' Dracaena felt her patience come to its end, ‘it was by elven magic I was cursed, and elven magic be it undone. Will you do it or not?’

'Think!' He slammed a fist against the arm of his throne. 'If this were centuries ago even in the body of a human, you'd have easily been able to unleash some of your power.' Dracaena needn’t have been told for she knew it from the moment she woke. 'Had I even the mind to aid you I could not. The magic came from those who dwell in the mountains... Now I cannot help but wonder how it is you've awoken?'

'That is none of your concern.'

'It certainly is. You are here now standing before me; a potential threat to all that I have built. The magic placed on you is not one easily broken. There was a specific thing needed to rent the seal.'

'Blood.' Dracaena grinned, remembering the taste of iron when she woke and the bloodied nose Jarin sported. For a moment she wondered how the children were and if they were harmed.

'Not just any blood. Babette was no fool.'

'Then we must have known two different women.' Dracaena had no care to show respect for the dead, they’d no need of it. Again, the red flecks emerged within his eyes before they settled. He loved his wife, this Dracaena remembered. Any jape or insult towards Babette was like an attack against his very heart.

'The blood needed to break your seal was that of kings,' he announced. Dracaena hoped he missed how her head jerked up at the secret revealed. Her thoughts again drifted towards the prince; his golden hair and his serious expression sported when thinking... but oh, how child-like he still was despite his solemnity! Jarin, the prince who craved vengeance against her kin. Yes, she knew why he was filled with hate.

The night he dreamt of her past his too bled into her mind. The smile of his father slowly fading at the sound of her children's cries echoing strong throughout his kingdom. The way he took up arms as they broke through the stone walls, crashing into his hall. His gruff voice ordering Sir Borin to lead his wife and child to safety. And as a mother it pained her to see Jarin's own weep with fear as she continuously prayed for her little prince to forget that horrible night. She knew how it was to want to keep her babes safe. What pained her most of all was she knew the monsters she created, for she too was one.

'Tell me, dragon, was it the children you have in your company?'

'Don't be foolish,' she replied hastily. 'You think a kingdom would so easily let their future rule stray so far from home?'

'No,' the atarah agreed. ‘No matter, you are here now. I must think of what to do with you.' He inspected every part of her, something she was unaccustomed to. Once upon a time her body was much too large to take in all at once. A wicked grin crept upon his long face. 'To be destroyed by your own creation...I can think of no more of a fitting end for you, mother of the divine.' With a flurry of his hand, a vast light shone bright, rippling down the hall behind his throne. The ruby eyes of the stone dragons that guarded it burned brilliantly as the walls of the temple came to life. Dracaena struggled to stay standing as she cast out her hands in a panic to keep her balance. And when the temple settled a great roar came in reply to the light the atarah summoned. It reverberated throughout Dracaena's entire being, piercing her ears with its shrieking voice.

She suddenly felt the weight of the mortality cursed upon her by Babette. A raging emotion came crashing down like a violent monsoon; an emotion only mortals had the privilege of feeling: fear.

To whom do the gods pray in their times of need? What light do they reach for when met with darkness? I think it sad when one cannot rely on another. Don't you, traveller? You seem like a person who has met with strife... and yet, there is a hopefulness to you. Even if alone now, I can see it. You are with the hope of meeting someone precious.

 

9: Pain of Another

Kindness is a precious trait and very overlooked, too often does it go un-nurtured. Prince Jarin was always kind, his mother would praise him for it and his father would make the boy promise to never lose his tender nature. Prince Jarin did his best to take into consideration the emotions of all those around him because of it, but when his mother passed, and he came under the protection of his father's brother his kindness was often reprimanded. Especially when his younger brother would so often show his fiercer heart and impress the strong king. Jarin might have forgotten the teachings of his own father in hopes of earning praise from his peers, but his heart never allowed him to lose the love he bore for all. 

The princes were taken to a domed-shape prison of thorn bushels open at the roof to reveal the sky, and only a single large round bed was there to decorate their flowered cell. The vast open skies twinkled seemingly shining brighter than usual. A crescent moon emitted its own pale glow just barely peeking out from behind the grey clouds drifting gently through the darkness. 

'Where have you taken Thea?" Jarin asked before Amine could lock the door behind them. He looked so guilty with how his eyes lowered to the grassy floor. 

'She'll be fine,' he offered, 'but she was causing a bit of an uproar, so I took her somewhere else to calm.'

'Thea doesn't do well in strange places on her own.' Jarin hoped she wasn't choking on her own sobs. He'd have hated if she died in such a pathetic way. 'How long will we be apart?'

'Give her back to us!' Merrick added less diplomatically.

'I'm sorry. Truly, if it were up to me...' Amine looked behind his shoulder, seeing guards stationed to watch the two walk down the hall. 'You'll have her when the atarah decides.' He finished and closed the door.

'They can't do that!' Merrick shouted, 'if they know who we are-' Jarin quickly clapped his hand to Merrick’s mouth giving a stern gaze. Sometimes he was unable to fathom how Merrick could speak without thinking.

'It’s better they don’t know who we are, stupid.' He wiped his hand against his tunic, disgusted at how much Merrick slobbered. 'Or should I remind you of your father's dislike for these people?'

'No,' Merrick sniffed, 'you needn't.' He walked towards the large plush bed, removing his muddy boots and crept on to it. Jarin observed how red his brother's eyes were becoming; how his chin trembled slightly as he gazed up to the sky. This was Merrick's first time being so far from home. Jarin knew his baby brother must've been frightened and homesick. The only thing he had of it was Thea, and the elves had taken that from him.

Jarin was no stranger to being far from home, he honestly didn't feel as if he ever had one since that night. His heart went out to Merrick, but he’d trade anything to be in his shoes rather than his own. The truth was that Jarin always was a bit jealous of his brother; he who’d grown with a father, he who’d left his home of his own volition. Suddenly, he felt his own eyes sting blurring his vision with the oncoming of fresh hot tears. He rubbed his eyes fiercely with the sleeve of his tunic and sucked in a big breath. He needed to be strong for his brother for when Merrick had no strength, he vowed to be that very thing for him.

'Merrick,' Jarin forced a smile and banished all doubt and worry from his heart. 

'What is it?' 

'Do you remember the story your father used to tell us before bed?' Jarin removed his own boots and setting them aside neatly, he joined him in the large bed. 

'Which? There were so many.' Merrick rolled over to make room for his brother. 

'The one where our fathers were boys and captured- held for ransom by that bandit calling himself king.' Merrick nodded, gaining back a bit of light in his large eyes. 'They were held in a cage much less comfortable than this one,' Jarin pointed about the room.

'Yes! And they were very frightened weren't they, brother?' Merrick added, a boyish grin breaking out on his face as he recalled the tale. 

'Oh, a hundred times more so!' 

'They were in there for three days and three nights in Lesqis country without food or water. They had to sit in their own filth, too!' Merrick laughed aloud and his brother joined him. 

‘That’s right. Do you remember what happened next?’ Jarin asked.

'I do,' Merrick admitted, 'But I'd much rather hear you tell it.'

'Well, they decided they couldn't wait for rescue. They had the blood of warriors in them, and they wouldn’t wait around like some damsel in distress.' Merrick nodded intrigued by his brother's words. 'They were stripped of their weapons like us, but my father's wily ways and quick wit were what helped get them out.'

'Your father was very smart.' Merrick agreed, 'and he always had a dagger hidden one place or another.'

'That's right. He was cunning, but your father was always more dexterous. He was able to unlock the cage with my father's dagger.' Jarin then reached over to grab his boot, watching Merrick's confused face turn into one of excitement as he pulled a dagger out. Escaping would be no easy feat, but Jarin wasn’t about to lay about and wait for this atarah's judgement.

'Oh,' heard the two brothers from the entrance. Their eyes settled on an elven girl. She was as radiant as the moon above, black tresses fell down her shoulders, a little crown sat atop her head gleaming like starlight. 'Did you plan on escaping? How exciting!' She strode forward and stood at the foot of the bed. Her eyes flittered back and forth between them, though more often than not they would settle on Merrick and she’d flush red at the sight of him.

'What do you want?' Merrick huffed impatiently. 'Go away!' 

'My father did warn me of the brashness of humans,' the elf girl frowned, puffing her cheeks in a pout. 'I wish you'd prove him wrong.' She continued talking and Merrick would speak over her in attempts to make her leave. He wasn't good with girls though somehow, he got on best with Thea. Jarin sometimes wondered how he’d find a queen when he was grown. As they continued to banter Jarin felt the room go still; the sound around him muted and the air became cold. The girl’s voice filled his mind, like how Dracaena was able to communicate with him. 

'You and the dragon are connected,' she said. He wanted to say no, to tell her that he’d nothing to do with Dracaena. But his mind was a door swung ajar, held open for her to peer into his head and pick out all his secrets. He fought against it; old memories rushed towards the open door like water flowing from a dam. Happy memories, sad memories; in his heart, they were equally painful. He cried out for strength though seeking out his own failed him. Her overbearing magic filling him to a point where it was almost painful. In his desperation he’d managed to conjure up the strength of the ancient he shared his mind with; the strength of a creature much stronger and fiercer than the girl picking through his thoughts. It fought back, edging towards the door of his mind. For once, he’d not felt the connection to Dracaena a curse but rather a blessing. Once standing at its threshold, he realized just as she could see through one side, he could look through the other. Her memories laid bare and Jarin felt it only fair that he picked through them as she had. 

He’d seen all in a matter of seconds: Jimena was daughter to the atarah. A man who held a great hatred towards Dracaena. Visions of Jimena and her father happily walking hand in hand along the gardens were shown and the songs of the berura filled his heart with warmth. He saw pain in only knowing her mother through paintings and stories. It seemed to Jarin that a missing parent was a pain more common than not in most, be they elves or humans. 

The visions changed then, delving deeper into her mind Jimena sneaked into forbidden temple searching for something- someone. A prisoner chained to the walls of a dampened cell treated much more harshly than the elves treated the children. The prisoner was dressed in rags that could have been lavished robes once upon a time. His hair long and grey shrouding his painted black and blue battered face. Jimena crept up towards the cell, gripping the cold iron so tight Jarin could feel it in his own hands. 

'Grandfather,' she called softly that he doubted the old man could hear. He raised his head revealing eyes as clear as the soft blue skies; those eyes, Jarin felt, were not suited for the surrounding darkness. Because these were Jimena's memories and not his own, Jarin knew things that he shouldn’t have been privy to. Such as the conflict between the elves. For centuries upon centuries their people had been splintered into two factions. Those who were worshippers of the dragons and those who opposed them. High elves and wood elves. Jimena was both, as her mother Babette came from the highest peeks of the mountains where her grandfather ruled. Their beliefs were that the dragons were evil creatures set out to destroy all things pure and good; that they corrupted all their shadows flew over. As where the wood elves believed them to be gods. 

'Jimena,' her grandfather’s hoarse voice came. He tried to rise and meet her at the bars, alas his hand was cuffed to the wall and prevented from even approaching. 'Jimena...' He said more tiredly. Jimena crept passed many guards to speak to her grandfather often and how he came to be captured was knowledge even she did not have. But it was a minor thing in her search to know about the other side of her heritage. A thing she felt she’d lost.

'I need to know, grandfather.' She pleaded, desperate for answers, 'I need to know why mother... I need to know how to finish what she started.' The old man shook his head letting his eyes glaze over in thought.

'Please,' his voice was thick with melancholy, 'do not ask this of me.' 

'I have a right to know!' She rung the bars as if squeezing them tighter would milk the truth from his mouth. 'I have a right.' Her grandfather must have felt the truth in her words and soon he began explaining everything. He started with how he charged Babette to find a way into the council of the atarah in hopes of finding magic to destroy the dragons once and for all. She did but the unexpected happened and Babette fell in love, and her quest to find an end to the dragons ceased once she married. Soon after she was heavy with child. 

Jarin was so enraptured by the memories that he didn’t expect them to suddenly be ripped away. He breathed out and found himself back within his cell. Jimena stared angrily at him. Jarin could only guess that she wasn't used to having her own memories invaded. 

'We don't want to talk to you. So, stop standing there like an idiot.' Merrick continued arguing. Jarin wanted to burst out laughing and he would have had he not felt a sharp jolt course through his veins. His breath quickened and his heart pounded. Sweat dampened his forehead as his body screamed for him to flee and find cover. He gripped at his chest and rose, looking around the cell and clumsily put his boots back on.

'Jarin?' Merrick asked worriedly.

'What is it?' Jimena asked, 'what’s wrong?' Jarin didn't know what was wrong, but he could feel fear. He could taste it lingering in the back of his throat. 

'I don't want to die...' Echoed familiar words he felt once when he explored that accursed cave with Merrick. 'I want to live.' 

'Dracaena.' Jarin furiously clung at the hedges, ignoring the thorns that ripped away at his flesh. A shrill unearthly cry travelled from deeper within the forest. The children's eyes shot up to the sky, trying to trace its source.

'What is it?' Merrick asked. 'What was that noise?'

'A dragon,’ replied Jimena.

 

10: Fires in the Woodland

Life is such a fickle thing, like a candle flame burning against the darkness. All it takes is the slightest wind to snuff it out. To those with little time their candle is cherished, held close to their chest. The warmth can fill you even when blown out- the smoke rises and a lingering heat against the cold of night can still be felt, the same way memories can warm. But what of those who needn’t fear the winds come to claim their flame? What do they think of life? 

The elves, though not so eternal, lived much longer than the common man. Because of this they thought themselves better and though they were ever knowledgeable they became arrogant. Pixies eternal chose to live apart from mortals. They’d seen much and knew well enough that elves and men were too similar; greedy in all pursuits. Though this also meant they missed out in the beauty they could offer. Their mortal lives were missed with a blink of the eye. The dragons were also eternal. Though powerful they became lazy in their rule separating themselves from the world much like the pixies.

Dracaena was the very first and her children were born of her fire, come to the world at her beck and call. And how intelligent she made them an image mirroring herself. They spoke and had a language even understanding others. But what did they do in those long years she slept? Not powerful enough to create life in her fashion they chose to procreate like mortals, and from them a new generation was sired; a generation that could not speak and could not temper their rabid nature. 

'A dragon?' Merrick shivered. 'What's it doing here?' 

'My father took one,' Jimena explained simply. Her face paled as another painful screech called out. 'He wanted their power. I told him magic, and sacrifices can't control a dragon. Nothing can control a dragon.' She fled to the door, turning back to face the two princes. 'Come, we need to find your friend!' Jarin quickly pulled Merrick holding on tightly to his hand. They were both trembling and clammy.

'We’ll be okay,' Jarin assured him. 'I promise.'

'I'll protect you, brother.'

Jarin smiled promising the same with steely determination. The guards were nowhere to be found though Jimena seemed unperturbed, in fact much of the common area laid vacant. This worried Jarin, seeming to him that the forest was lacking the bustling of the vibrancy he’d first seen. She led them turning left and right so many times before stopping suddenly in her tracks. 

'How odd.' She said, 'I can see everything in this forest-- I saw her…' 

'You saw Thea with your magic.' Jarin offered as an explanation for his brother. 

'I don't see her anymore.' 

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Thea was led down a separate hall from the princes by a nameless elf. She held out her hands and screamed, reaching for them. Jarin and Merrick reached back to no avail. They were ripped apart by the guards and she hadn’t seen them since. She was thrown into an empty room, given nothing but a blanket to wrap herself in. She cried and cried for what seemed to be forever, thinking that she’d never see her friends or family again. And, oh! How she would never gain the chance to profess her love for Sir Oliver. She found herself searching her person for the cloth he’d ripped from his tunic to wipe at her tears. To her it was a token of affection, a symbol of their love. She knew in her heart she’d be by his side forever one way or another. Yet there she laid a slobbering mess, kept from her most cherished friends. She worried even for Dracaena, though she was a new friend Thea loved her just the same. She sniffled loudly and curled into a ball, hoping she’d told her mum she loved her enough. Thea knew that sometimes people needed to be assured of things like that because sometimes they didn't believe it. She didn't mind saying it often if it made her loved one’s smile, that was enough for her. 

As she thought all this, Thea missed the rustling from the hedges and how they parted effortlessly for a little pale creature with wings shimmering with silver dust. Flowers grew beneath it, stopping only when the creature landed at her feet. It placed a tiny palm against the heel of her shoe. It was such a light touch that there was no possible way that Thea would ever feel it. The creature scratched its chin in thought, turning to pluck a flower from behind. It waved it beneath her nose and the sweet smell broke Thea from her thoughts. She beamed upon seeing the creature that waved her way when first entering the elven realm. 

'Oh!' She gasped and took the flower offered. 'You're a pixie, aren't you?' It smiled, seemingly happy to be recognized. Thea remembered Jarin reading her stories of pixies, they were her favourite. It fluttered upwards to be at eye level with her. 'You’re so beautiful,' said Thea. She wove the flower into her hair to keep it safe and her hands free. The pixie fixed a stray strand by tucking it behind her ear. It looked at her as if to say: So are you!

For a long time, Thea and the pixie stared at each other, examining every inch as if to memorize the sight. The pixie's wings rained down silver with every flutter the scent of honeydew emitted. Its face was like any human but youthful as a child. It wore no clothes though it didn’t have anything to hide. Its body had only the very basic shape of a person looking between man and woman.

Thea raised her hand with the temptation to touch it; to catch the silver in her palms and throw it up in the air as if it were snow. The pixie mirrored her action bringing a tiny hand to rest in her palm. She never felt like such a giant usually she was the one looking up.

'I'm glad you're here,' she said. 'I was very lonely.' The pixie looked saddened by that, but it smiled as if it were happy it came. It flew so high that Thea stood and craned her neck to find it in the sky. She could see its silhouette cast against the moon; its tiny arms spread as wide as it could. Thea knew if it had a voice it would shout at the top of its lungs with elation. 

'Look!' It would say, 'how can you be alone when the moon is right here?' Thea burst into laughter and danced in circles as the silver dust cascaded down. The pixie spun in the sky with all its might, summoning extra dust just for her. Their joyous moment stopped when a great cry came bursting through the night air. The pixie slowly lowered itself back to Thea.

'What was that?' She trembled, and the pixie sped towards the hedge, fleeing at the sound of the cry. It tugged on her shoulder, urging Thea to follow. 'Is it dangerous?' It nodded, pulling her toward the open path it created. 'Will we be safe?' She asked and again it nodded. 'But what about Jarin and Merrick? What about Dracaena?' Thea pulled away. This time the pixie looked deep into her eyes furrowing its hairless brow. She could almost hear it saying ‘please.’

__________________________________________________________________

Dracaena ran, feet pounded against the floor. For all the agility she displayed before she could not for the life of her outrun the beast. It came bolting out from the deep recesses of the hall behind the throne, narrowly missing the atarah. Its claws scraped against the stone with each stride. She made it out the narrow exit, hoping that would deter the dragon from pursuing her, but those wishes were put to rest when it burst through the walls, casting the stone forth. They flew, crushing some of the elven guards who let out their last cries.

Dracaena just barely ducked out of the way avoiding a collision. She was laid on her back with only her elbows to keep her upright. The dragon loomed over her with fiery eyes. She could smell the ash in its breath as it sniffed her out. Dracaena knew a dragon when she saw one as their faces were once her own. Yet that dragon was different somehow, changed into something wrong. Its eyes held no thought behind it; no will seeking out better fortunes. Its body was large and its wings too small for it to take flight. The sound of the dragon’s heart was so loud that it vibrated through the soles of its feet into the earth. The surrounding snow melted, and the air blazed in a wild heat. Its jaws opened and time slowed as if to savour the moment.

'I don't want to die...' Dracaena thought, 'I want to live.' She saw her chance when the dragon was distracted by the surviving elven soldiers who threw their spears. The creature rounded its head using its tail to knock down the elves behind. Spotting the atarah standing at the broken entrance of the temple, she stood to back away. He held out a hand and screamed an enchantment only working to stall it for a moment. The dragon's head shot back up and screeched louder than the first time blowing fire and burning the remaining soldiers. 

Dracaena decided not to stay and watch the atarah’s decided fate. Though nothing would please her more to see the fool burn she valued her mortal life far more. She ran past various other soldiers running towards the beast; all of them drenched in the scent of desperation to live through the night.  

She found herself at a crossroads not remembering having come through this way but knowing there was only one way to go previously. The halls shifted as she stood in place, an obvious spell to not allow intruders gather their bearings. Her first instinct was to tear through and escape, but she remembered the prince, if he died so too would she. Growling, she thought on how to find the boy. Her breath caught in her throat when feeling heat emit behind her burning away the hedges. The peaceful magic of the forest disintegrated in the fire and the silence fell through. The roaring flames engulfed the greenery; so fierce was it that the tall ancient trees began to crumble as it bit through. The crackling of the flames mixed with the screams of the anguished elves. Dracaena jumped out of the way just in time, arrows and spears whizzed passed. Elves came pouring in on horseback and on foot holding their swords and bows, their shields, and elegantly curved axes, some even with magic. Their weapons did naught only prolonging their demise.

'There's no stopping it!' Dracaena tried screaming, she could barely hear herself within all that noise. 

__________________________________________________________________

Jarin and Merrick followed closely behind Jimena. She’d convinced them there was no finding Thea and wherever it was she’d disappeared to. Their only option was to flee. Jimena looked close to tears herself at one point, Jarin noted. Soon enough there was barely enough space to move for too many people crowded the walkways in attempt to escape.

'Please!' Jimena called out to her people, 'calm yourselves and we’ll be okay!' Only a handful of guards stopped to help her restore order. She’d somehow managed to organize them and soon enough they were all making a quicker escape.

'Jimena!' Amine pushed through the crowd with his weapon unsheathed, golden armour bent and scorched in some places and his arm bled as if it’d been shredded by a very large and sharp thing unlike any weapon Jarin had seen.

'Amine!' She rushed to look over his arm. He brushed her off as politely as he could in that moment.

'Please, you must listen!' He cried, 'the dragon-- your father.' He shook his head, 'The woodland is lost you must escape.' Jarin and Merrick shared a look goosebumps prickled their skin.

'I've seen it, but I cannot leave.' Jimena responded, looking back to see that many people still needed to evacuate. Jarin stood forward and gripped her shoulder unable to watch any longer. Amine was right to want to get her out, but he could sympathize with Jimena. Had he a chance to go back and save his people he would. 

'Jimena,' he said in an eerily steady voice. 'You have to.' 

'How can I?' Jimena asked with tears in her eyes. 

'You must live on for them.' Jarin turned towards Merrick, 'as my brother must.' Jimena froze, thinking over his words before nodding.

'Yes,' she relented, 'I’ve seen it. Your past.' She called for a guard who took Merrick forcefully by the arm. 

'Let go of me!' Merrick yelled, 'what are you doing? Jarin! Jarin, help me!' He cried out getting lost into the crowd of fleeing elves. Jarin felt a tear run down his cheek as he watched his little brother disappear. He knew his destiny laid down a different path.

'Get him home safely. Protect him.' He pleaded.

'I promise.' She nodded grabbing Amine's arm. Jarin walked toward the destruction, intent on finding Dracaena.

'Where are you?' For a moment all slipped into a grey hue. The only light seen was Dracaena who spoke his name; it sounded foreign on her tongue, forced and harsh. All returned to normal, and he sprinted towards her knowing full well she was in the heart of danger. 

When he arrived on the battlefield holding only the dagger he concealed in his boot, he knew it was useless upon seeing the large amounts of scattered bodies lying about. Some were broken, some charred, all were dead. 

Dracaena wobbled to her feet alone again in facing off with the beast well bruised from being thrown to the floor by the dragon's tail. She’d been so easily knocked down and each time there was less will to get back up. It clawed only barely skimming her, leaving the clothes on her back in rags. She slowly reached for a sword, knowing there was no escape. 

'Dracaena!' She’d die if she faced the dragon, but he could offer no help when he was far weaker even in her battered state. Unfortunately, not only did his call capture her attention but the dragon's as well. Its pupils dilated focusing in on its new intended prey.

'Run!' She ordered, throwing the sword about to win back its gaze. It only kicked its leg to knock her down as it stalked towards Jarin barrelling into a run. He backed away, tumbling over one of the many fallen. In that instant he saw it all: his father’s kingdom he once grew up in, Imivere, lush with strong oaks and sword ferns. The red flowering currant from which the hummingbirds would feed. He remembered his father and mother… Sir Borin who’d taught and raised him as if his own. Thea, who he prayed survived and escaped, and his sweet little brother. He wished he could see him again, hold his hand and assure him that there wasn't anything to fear. He’d all the makings of a great king and even if he was stupid sometimes his heart was always intent on doing the right thing. 

Dracaena watched in horror, and just as Jarin saw things flash before his eyes, so too did Dracaena. Her very first child she called from the flames emerged, his scales were golden and shimmered in the fires, much like Jarin's hair. His fangs were sharp and long, and his neck was longer still, his body strong. He was her pride and joy and she’d no doubt her other children looked to him for leadership. Her mind flashed back to one day where she was taking her little dragonlings on their first hunt. She’d only let them out of her sight for a moment when the runt of her brood vanished. She searched from above gliding through the mountains listening for it, hoping it yet lived. Then she heard it cry out for her and found it bound beneath a net on a cliff side. A band of high elves surrounded it, preparing to strip it of its scales and kill it. She circled in a blinded rage and not caring their atarah was there. Their atarah had magic strong enough to face even her. This magic had been passed down their line developed into its highest form of raw energy.

Dracaena landed, causing the face of the mountain to shake. She roared out to scare them away, a warning that she’d not hesitate to swallow them whole. They did not deter and soon enough she was attacking them as fiercely as they attacked her. 

The atarah stole up from behind her and cast his magic. It hurdled towards her, sending her crashing into the ravine below. Her child's cries brought her to her senses, and she spread her wings wide and flew. The air rushed against her as she scaled up the rock. An eagerness to kill filled, fearing that her dragonling was all but dead. To her great surprise she saw an elven girl standing between the soldiers and her babe screaming to the atarah to leave it be.

'It isn't harming us!' She cut the net off the dragon and continued to shield it with her arms spread out as it ran to its mother.

'Move, Babette!' The atarah ordered. She did not, instead standing there as tall and proud as if coming from Dracaena's own litter. That was how she’d met her only mortal friend and learned then that even the most fragile things could show some form of courage.

She was brought back to the moment where the dragon was closing in on Jarin and knew then she had to break through Babette's curse, even in her mortal body her power laid dormant. In a moment she closed her sharp eyes and roared. Flames burst from her body and surrounded. The dragon was sent flying, crashing through trees by the force exerted from the summoning. So hot were her flames that they burned pure white. Jarin had to cover his eyes with his arms and even then, he could still see the light. When the flames passed, he rubbed his eyes and was met with a fearful sight: a dragon stood towering over the largest of trees. He was barely as big as one of the black scales decorating its body, shimmering with all colours against the light. Its stark white eyes peered down at them as black smoke plumed from her large snout. 

The feral dragon seemed barely grown then and much less fearsome as before standing in her shadow. It screeched, blowing its fire towards her legs. The black dragon did not react, only looking down with unmoving eyes. 

Jarin felt his legs begin to shake and soon found he couldn’t move. He’d been completely petrified; the memories of the dragons’ siege on his home haunted him. He knew it was Dracaena-- a nightmare come true, the embodiment of his fear and hatred.

Dracaena could feel what was in his heart and slowly it filled her; blinded her. Her head shot towards the sky, and she howled. Enraged, she flew with wings beating like the sound of thunder. So strong was the gust she summoned that she blew away all the clouds in the sky, she dipped back down below and made for the feral dragon. All the remaining trees in the vicinity were blown away and the rest burned as she sucked in a great breath, releasing her white fire upon her foe. When it dispersed there’d been a crater burned black and smoking. In its center laid the dragon, all charred and fighting with every breath to live. Dracaena was shocked to find it still alive, but a dragon was nothing if not resilient. It managed a weak cry and writhed in pain, upturning the burnt dusty floor. She descended feeling Babette's curse coming back and slowly shrunk in size. Her snout pushed back into her face and her wings into her back, her scales shortened and softened into her short, ragged hair. 

She approached the dragon, its body abundant in damage. Her fiery breath melted most of its scales clean off and its eyes were wide and weepy as it looked about in horror. Dracaena watched it struggle and suddenly she felt it difficult to do so as well. It hurt to see it suffering. Though not of her litter it didn’t make it any less her kin. The pain she felt was grievous spread tightly across her chest. And then she felt it: inside something broke. A warmth began to streak down her cheeks. She brought two tentative hands towards them and looked at her gleaming wet fingers. She was puzzled having never heard of a dragon shedding tears. She cast her attention back to the dying creature. It no longer had the strength to thrash about, and it began to still with shallow breaths. She walked to it making sure to be in its line of vision in attempts to not harrow it further.

'My poor child,' she lamented and placed a gentle hand upon its snout. The dragon let out a sigh at the kindness being shown. By and by its heart settled and it accepted what was to come. 'I wish my children could see... what becomes of a child without its mother.' Dracaena kissed it sweetly. 'Sleep now.' And at her word the dragon's eyes closed slowly never to open again.

I could not tell you how long she and Jarin stayed there, only that after a good amount of time she approached the cowering prince who winced when she reached out. She found that she disliked how he flinched at the sight of her, how he whimpered in fear and invoked his father and mother as a form of protection. Didn't he know that she protected him? She killed kin just to see him safe. To her, Jarin was nothing but a nuisance at first but the memories of her dragonlings made her associate him to something similar. She was born again of his blood, the spell that bound her for however long broken thanks to him. 

Suddenly she felt very feverish and very dizzy having used too much energy in forcing her way back into her original form, she’d need to sleep for a time to regenerate her power. Maybe then she’d stay in her true form. Jarin couldn’t be left in the world to wander. She was fearful that something terrible might befall him and she couldn’t leave him on his own. 

'Jarin,' she crawled towards him, settling between his legs. He looked upon her with wide eyes fearing what might happen, jumping to feel her hand caress his cheek as she wiped away his tears. How odd it was to think that her skin was once scales and her hands sharp with claws. They gazed into each other's eyes until she embraced him softly. 'Come,' she whispered into his ear. 'We must sleep. And when you wake, I promise you all that you desire will be yours.' Her power poured out until it covered them completely. They fell into a great sleep then… one that lasted ten years.

What are you thinking, traveller? Have you found any answers from the story yet? Do not fret if it is yet unclear, the story does not end here… Oh, trust me. There is more. True stories never end, now do they?

 

11: Time

I should tell you about time: a precious linear commodity that not all of us may spare. I’m sure you’ve used yours well enough. Should you’ve been able to find me, I am after all, not an easy woman to find…

Thea remembered being led away by the pixie that night the hedges parted for them, and they passed its threshold. They didn’t step into the elven realm but into another plain of existence as if it were a different forest entirely ripe with the smell of spring, and mushrooms of red and white sprouted to grow the size of any normal tree. Flowers of all kinds with wide-ranging colours mixed to form a rainbow sea. Pixies danced and glided through the air; each had its own-coloured dust fall from its wings. She was offered many exotic fruits there but the one she delighted in the most was peaches, never having tasted a sweeter fruit. Thea loved it there for there was no strife to be had, but she knew she couldn’t stay for she’d her own life to return to. They’d only been in the pixie world for what seemed to be minutes but when she returned a day had passed. 

Merrick and Thea reunited the very night the woodlands burned. She was unscathed and unshaken, and she’d no doubt he was curious as to what happened. The elven girl at his side certainly looked as though she had questions. They pressed her for none for as soon as Thea and Merrick laid eyes upon each other they ran into a full embrace and cried all night long.

They searched for two whole days for any sign of Jarin and Dracaena to no avail. All that was left were bodies scattered, trees splintered and the charred remains of a dragon. 

'What happened?' Thea asked in horror, the question hung in the open air.

The years went by too quickly for their liking. Merrick never abandoned his search for his elder brother and as if in a blink of the eye, he grew into a strong young man right before Thea’s eyes. He returned to his kingdom; his adventure long forgotten. It was then that Merrick gathered enough courage and told Thea truthfully. 

'There was a large black dragon we could see it in the sky.' He told her, tears forming in his eyes. She would hush him then, offering a handkerchief.

'No more, my lord.' She’d say, unsure where the elves disappeared to. All she knew was that Merrick was still in contact with Jimena. Somehow, he’d always come and tell her of the conversations shared even though there were never any messenger birds sent, not even secret rendezvous. 

A lot changed in the ten years that passed, the King had gone to sleep one night and never woke up. The throne passed to Merrick who refused the crown because he didn’t feel ready to receive it. Instead, he took the role of lord protector and all his people loved him. Even when he proclaimed that he’d allied himself with the elves. Not long after that declaration seeing their kind in the marketplace or walking about the gardens wasn’t a rare sight. His people mingled well with them, and they’d come to be accepted in his kingdom. He announced his betrothal to Jimena, the new Atarah, and soon to reign over the humans at his side. Their power shared and the people rejoiced. 

Sir Borin retired and gave up his sword. So weary with grief was he at the loss of Jarin, he couldn’t find it to go on. But every time Merrick rode out with his company in search of his brother Sir Borin was sure to follow.

Thea changed a lot too, growing into a charming young lady. Sir Oliver took her as a wife, and she became lady of his house despite the protest of his parents. She found a place for her grandmother and mum to retire as well, making sure they were well taken care of so that they needn't have lifted a finger to work ever again. She kept them close and even then, she’d tell her mum how much she loved her every day. What filled Thea's heart with joy the most was how her mother seemed to believe her.

Sir Oliver became captain of the lord protector’s guard. Thea knew Merrick valued her husband’s council and was glad they got along so well. The elf, Amine, became Jimena’s right-hand and rarely ever left her side. Thea was honoured to be her favourite handmaiden. 

Once when they sat together enjoying a cup of tea in the garden, Thea’s own special brew. Jimena sighed peacefully and looked up to the sky. 

'I can hear it,' she said. 

'Hear what, my lady?' Thea asked, placing down her cup with barely a sound. 

'The voice of your child grows louder.' She placed a gentle hand on Thea's stomach and looked into her eyes, smiling brilliantly. 

'My child?' Thea felt like bursting into laughter out of sheer joy. She wanted to announce it to the entire kingdom but couldn’t move without Jimena's leave. Luckily for Thea, the Atarah could see into people's minds, and she’d gotten much stronger at it. Jimena cocked her head to the side with a slight smile, dismissing Thea. 

'Go, I’m sure your husband would love to know... Merrick as well. And don’t fret, Amine here will finish your share of tea.' She laughed, glancing over at her captain who shifted his weight from one foot to another awkwardly.

Sir Oliver was always a solemn man even during joyous occasions. She could see the tears in his eyes as he kneeled and hugged her around her mid-section. He whispered sweetly to his child, promising that he’d love and cherish it for as long as he lived.

She later found Merrick in the library holding an old familiar book: All About Dragons. He looked at the pages but never read it over. His eyes held a far-off look. Thea could almost see the lost prince sitting in the corner hiding behind a pile of books. Had he been there as she remembered, Thea would be taller than him. It was odd to think when she always remembered having to stare up at him.

'My lord?' Merrick closed the book choosing not to meet her gaze. 

'I hear him still, Thea. He haunts these halls as well as my dreams.' 

'As he does mine.' She couldn’t count how many times she dreamt of the night they’d woken her and set out on that cursed adventure. Or the night she was separated from them, locked away with nothing but a blanket; the sound of the dragon's call… If she was thankful for anything that night it was meeting her pixie friend with whom she yet met every so often. There were some days she’d ride out to the edge of the forest and there they would meet. She called the pixie Silver, it seemed to like it by the way it enthusiastically flittered about her head. She kept in mind to tell Silver of her baby as well.

'Many of my men keep persisting I should give up. Maybe they are right. Maybe there’s no hope in finding him or...' 

'There is always hope,' Thea went to him and grabbed his hand. It’d become large and calloused from all his sword play, much different from the child hands he once had. He’d become a great warrior and an even greater ruler. 'We’ll find both of them…' Thea turned his bearded face to look at her, 'I promise.' 

'They never got along with each other. I think sometimes he even wanted her dead. I saw it in his eyes.' He looked down at his hand that intertwined with Thea's. 'But he was always too kind to actually say or do anything about it.'

'You wanted an adventure of your own, but they did share something.' Thea declared, knowing he’d always been jealous of the bond his brother shared with Dracaena. It was never a secret he hid. This seemed to cause a rift between him and his wife, for Thea knew of the disdain Jimena held for dragons after that fateful night. Whenever Merrick mentioned Dracaena in passing, she would march straight out of the room. The only reason they married was for the opportunity to unite and heal the animosity between their people. Merrick confided in Thea and told her it was all Jimena's idea. The atarah was always plotting one thing or another all for the greater good.

'Enough of that,' Merrick stood taller and smiled brightly, and Thea could barely remember what sorrow looked like on him. 'Aren't you supposed to be having tea, or something?' 

'Tea, yes.' Thea brushed aside his comment, 'but I've news.'

'Well go on then.'

'I’m with child.' She smiled and in an instant Merrick took her in his arms and spun around with joy. He hollered and laughed like a madman and Thea laughed at his display. 

'There’s still things I must do. You know, court stuff, dealing with lazy noblemen. But when that is done,' Merrick pointed a finger at her, 'there’ll be a feast in celebration. What would you like to be served as the main dish?' Thea looked a bit startled, never having a feast held in her honour. 

'I don't care, really.' She looked down shyly. 

'Come on, Thea, name anything and it is yours.' 

'Well,' Thea looked up once more. 'I’d very much like peaches. You can choose the rest.'

'Peaches!' Merrick laughed. 'Very well, you won’t wait long, I swear it.' 

That night Thea stole herself from the home. She strode out to the stables preparing her horse, smiling slightly when recalling the princes doing the same when they itched for adventure. Usually, it was Merrick who’d string Jarin along. She never imagined growing the courage to do the same yet there she stood. The horse sped her right out of the city towards the woods. When there she dismounted, leading it along by its reigns. 

'Silver?' She removed the hood of her cloak. The winds picked up slightly and the tall grass shifted and the trees rustle; a sound reminiscent to that of waves on a beach as time seemed to slow, a sure sign of Silver's arrival. The pixie zoomed towards her, clinging to her chest with a tight hug. Thea brought up two gentle fingers embracing as well as possible. 'Oh, Silver.' Thea sighed and the pixie looked up at her with worry floating away from her body to better look upon her face. 'I'm sorry I only come to you with troublesome things. I know your life wouldn’t have any without me.' Silver waited patiently for her to continue, wanting nothing more than to listen to her worries. It was a tiny creature with a strong want to shoulder some of her burdens. This Thea could see in Silver's eyes. 'Some good news first!' She leaned in close to Silver as if about to share a secret. 'I’m going to have a child.' The pixies, Thea knew, didn’t work like humans, not having fathers or mothers for they sprouted from flowers. Yet Silver knew well enough to lower itself to her stomach. It placed its hand upon it and closed its eyes as if to listen. 

Looking up, Silver nodded as if to say, 'yup, it's definitely in there.'  The pixie didn’t celebrate as Thea thought it would, instead it looked contemplative, worried almost. It didn’t move away from her stomach, nor did it remove its hand. 

Thea moved on to her next subject, ‘do you remember Merrick? I've spoken to you of him many times.' The pixie nodded, using its hand to make a shape over its head. 'Yes,' Thea laughed, 'he should be king. Though many people consider him such already, he won’t claim it. He says he isn't ready, but I don't believe that.' Thea turned to look at the sky closing her eyes and sighing. 'I believe he’s waiting for Jarin. He always wanted to impress him. He sought his approval more than his own father.' 

Silver frowned and hugged Thea's belly again and she knew then the reason Silver didn’t celebrate. The human world was filled with toil and to bring a child into it seemed a cruel injustice to Silver, who only wanted to protect what was important to Thea. It warmed her heart to know Silver cared so deeply. 

'If only Prince Jarin and Dracaena were found.' Silver perked up its ears as if it remembered something. The pixie seemed hesitant at first but flew back to the trees and waved Thea over despite it. 'What is it?' Thea dropped the reigns of her horse not caring if it ran off. In her heart she knew she needed to follow Silver for it would lead her to something dear. Through the darkness of the woods they went following paths that would be hidden to mortals, but with Silver leading the way said paths were revealed. There were stones of shimmering marble that sprouted from the earth with each step Thea would take and when she passed, they would slip back into the earth as if they never there. The trees bent and shifted groaning under their own weight to make way for them. They’d slept for so long they didn’t expect to be woken. 

The air nipped at Thea with a fierce chill she was forced to wear her hood and bring her cloak closer to her chest once again. Her breath fogged and her nose turned a bright red. Whispers filled the air as they ventured deeper until they were stood before a great cavernous hole leading deep within the earth. Silver pointed down to it a couple of times wanting Thea to step first into the darkness. 

'No,' said Thea shaking her head. Looking inside the darkness her mind began to play tricks on her. The shadows from within danced and took shape of many monstrous creatures and she didn’t wish to be amongst them. The pixie grew impatient and waved its arms into a large circle, indicating something round of great importance laid below. 'I don't care, you go first if you're so eager.' Thea backed away only to be stopped by Silver tugging at her cloak. The pixie pulled with all its might until Thea relented. 'You first.' 

With a roll of its eyes, it delved into the darkness and Thea reluctantly followed. She had to take small steps for the way down was steep and the rocks surrounding were jagged. One wrong step and Thea would’ve been in grave danger. Silver’s wings dropped its dust barely illuminating the way. The passage was so tight that it became suffocating, and she desperately hoped that she’d be out of the cavern soon. On and on it went until finally a light breeze blew down the passage and Thea was met with light of a large open cave. Floating at its center was a large crystal, barely hovering above the ground. It was like a moon caught in the earth lighting all around with a pale glow. Silver pointed towards it, again forming a circle with its arms. Thea nodded, acknowledging Silver's find. She narrowed her large doe eyes trying to make out the shapes from within the crystal. As she focused, she could see the shape of two people and the sound of multiple heartbeats filled her ears. She stepped closer towards it, being drawn in like a sailor out at sea hearing the call of a siren. With an outstretched trembling hand, she made to touch it. 

'How beautiful,' said Thea who was completely enchanted by its warm glow; it looked so smooth. Before her hand came down upon the crystal its glow ceased, and it came crashing down with great force. Thea stumbled back and watched how it turned from a pale blue glow into a pitch-black orb. It cracked right down its center before it shattered revealing a grown man wearing scaled armour. His golden hair was long, falling down his broad shoulders. His face was so familiar and yet so foreign. She walked nervously towards his still form ignoring the protest of Silver. His arms were wrapped around the other figure tightly, his body covered it like a shield.

'Hello?' Thea poked his leg with her boot afraid he’d wake and attack her in a frenzy. When he didn’t respond the second time she nudged him, she grew the confidence to turn him onto his back. It took great amount of effort for his armour was heavy, but when she finally managed to do so his shielding embrace loosened, and his arms slid free. A girl was revealed to Thea, one she didn’t think would be found despite her optimism.

'Dracaena,' Thea gasped and then turned to look at the man in armour. 'Jarin...'

Yes, time is a difficult thing to fathom. If not kept track of it will steal away while your head is turned, and what happens to those who sleep it away? Traveller, you used your time welll and yet I see that somehow, you've lost it... I know your face, traveller. It reminds me of a person that is no longer here, in a time long since passed…

 

12: We Dreamed

The waking world is a cruel place. I’ve seen so many evils, so many cruelties and injustices. Ah, and I was a coward in my younger years... How many times I could’ve stopped things when instead I chose to stay my hand. I am guilty for I see all the faces of the people I’ve lost constantly in my dreams. Do you dream much, traveller? Do you dream of beautiful things? Come tell me everything. What is that face for? Oh, the tale, of course...

Jarin dreamed too, you know. All those years he slept by Dracaena's side he dreamt of wonderful things at first. Dracaena dreamt of them, too. Their minds merged as they slept, seeing and feeling everything together. How I would love to tell you all the beautiful dreams they shared; the adventures they had and the life they believed they created. But that would take far too long, and the hour is late. 

Soon Jarin only remembered the promise Dracaena had made, how she’d destroy all those who opposed them. After that, all he could dream of was the dragons who took all he loved. Had they not done so he'd have had a proper family. He would govern a whole kingdom and beneath his loving and just rule he’d lead his people into a golden age. Those monsters stole it from him never to be forgiven, and the slight would be repaid for in kind. No dragon would live once he was through with them. This thought filled him; consumed and tainted his very soul. No kindness or clemency towards the creatures remained and in turn these feelings filled Dracaena. Babette's curse could not withstand their joining. Dracaena was freed only to be imprisoned by the dark thoughts clouding her prince's mind. Once she’d been angry at her children, but she didn’t want them dead not until Jarin's will became her own.

Dracaena could not hide her memories from Jarin, nor he from her. He saw how she came to be in that crystalline cage of hers. It started with Babette after she saved Dracaena's runt, they’d meet often. They were reserved towards each other Dracaena more so than Babette but slowly their conversations flowed as if they were old friends, which was what they became. I cannot tell you how many years they met for I've quite forgotten the number myself but one day Babette came to with news of her father's plan.

'He wishes me to join the wood dwellers, that I might gain a foothold to find a way to end your kind.' Dracaena could only snort lifting her proud snout high in the air and blowing out black smoke as if to say, 'I'd very much like to see them try!'

Instead, she contested with something like, 'and what will you do? You hold no animosity for me and mine.' 

'No,' Babette agreed. 'But I was thinking that I might still try. Perhaps I’ll find a way to bring our people together.' 

'Don't be foolish, girl.' Dracaena laughed a loud rolling sound that boomed throughout the valleys of the mountains.

'It’s not foolishness, dragon.' Babette huffed and crossed her arms. 'I'll find a way, you'll see.' And find a way she did for after she’d marry the atarah. When she fell pregnant Dracaena hadn’t seen her for some time, until she heard a whispering coming from the woodlands. She followed its call landing in a great meadow. There she found one of her own being held down by a great metal net enhanced by elven magic. She roared wishing she could melt them away with her flames, but she knew that would only cause harm to her sparkling green child.

'Mother!' Cried her kin, 'flee!' More chains wrapped around his snout and silenced him, appearing seemingly from nowhere. Dracaena feared no traps, more importantly her child was in need. Her jaws clamped down on the chains yanking them hard. As she did so Babette emerged from the forest, ready to burst with Jimena in her belly. 

'Those are unbreakable,' she offered. 

'How do you know?' 

'Because it's my magic that holds him.' Dracaena reeled her large snout only mere inches from Babette. The two glared at each other for some time. 'I renounced my father and his people some time ago to please my husband. I thought I could adopt his ideals, his beliefs. That you might be a god… that you are something to tremble before.' Dracaena tilted her head in challenge.

'I am,' she said to which Babette shook her head. 

'You are a mother,' she rubbed her swollen belly, 'as too will I be. I do not wish for my babe to grow living in fear. Do you know what we are most fearful of?' Dracaena’s eyes narrowed as Babette finished, ‘you.’

‘Mother!’ Suddenly the green dragon was bound no longer. Those great chains wrapped themselves around Dracaena, moving as fluid as vines. She roared and thrashed about nearly succeeding in breaking free. When more of her kith came swooping, tightening the chains hold on her. Those loyal to Babette came bounding out of the forest, adding their strength. Dracaena looked at the familiar faces one proud golden dragon stood out looking down his nose at her from Babette's side.

'Why?' Was all she could manage. Her only ally being her powerless green child.

'I’ve come to an agreement with your children,' explained Babette. 'I need you to disappear in order to free my people of their fear.' Dracaena looked then towards her once pride and joy.

'And I,' he said in a booming voice, 'wish to rule.' Somehow Babette harnessed the power of one hundred dragons adding it to her own. She chanted a curse and soon Dracaena's form changed into something different. Her scales softened and the sky above slowly slipped further away than she thought possible. She screamed louder than ever before. The elves clapped and cheered when she became human yelling and towering over her. With their faces clearer than ever she noticed that one of her lifelong questions came to be answered. ‘No, they do not all look the same.’

None of her children could watch her wobble in desperation turning their heads as if ashamed to see her in such a state. She was far too sluggish and felt no strength in her. 

'That will be all you require of us then?' The Gold asked Babette.

'I still need some of you to help with the sealing.' She admitted, looking a bit unsteady herself. 

'You will have them,’ He nodded to a handful of his kin, 'I will not remain.'  He turned to leave following the rest of his brethren into the sky. When he took flight Babette called out once more.

'You’ll keep your promise, won't you? No more harm will come to my people?' He stared at her as if insulted she’d question his integrity. 

'Yes,' he spoke finally still flapping in the air. ‘I hope you intend to do the same.' With that he flew off roaring into the skies, the rest of his family chorusing him. 

'Come,' Babette ordered the remainder. 'Let us finish this.' They stole Dracaena towards a cave, setting her down in its center. Its entrance hid behind a curtain of vines not easily found it unless investigated. Dracaena laid naked feeling no shame before then. Only in a human body did she experience that wretched feeling. An elf came forward with clothes made for a jester.

'A joke just like your reign.' He shoved her into it to humiliate her further. 

'What wrong have I done you?' Dracaena looked to Babette, and a pained expression fell over her face. She began her chant offering no words. This enraged the once great dragon and in a final effort her fury unleashed for one last time. Fire burned and all tried to flee, scattering towards the only exit there was. Their flesh seered away until the only remains left of them were their bones. 

Dracaena made sure to leave Babette untouched wanting to see the pain in her eyes when she felled her allies. Most importantly she wanted her alive, so she’d rue the day she’d ever thought of betrayal. Instead, through Dracaena's hazy vision she saw Babette kneeling over her. Tears filled her eyes, pain, just as Dracaena wished and pity.,. but not for her fallen they were for Dracaena. With no more strength left to defy the elf's magic, Babette was able to seal her on her own.

'Blood of kings...' She whispered. 'I am sorry.' With that a great clear orb of light began to surround Dracaena. By and by, her eyes fluttered as a great sleep claimed her. She refused to shut her eyes as the orb crystallized and hardened. There Dracaena stayed dreaming that Babette would visit her in that very cave. She’d place a gentle hand to the crystal and sometimes sing a lament.

One day, the dreams of Babette ceased and all she saw then was darkness. The emotional wounds inflicted on her still fresh until she woke to see the face of a boy; a boy with a head as golden as her very first child.

Jarin had seen her past and in a way, he grew to love her finding comfort in sharing their pain. She embraced him as she would any of her children and he sunk into her, only just understanding how starved he’d been for a mother’s touch. 

'I will avenge your honour, mother,' Jarin promised in a dream. 

'And I yours, sweetling' Dracaena said, draping him in her scales of protection. 

Thea sat with them all through the night too afraid to leave their side. She’d no idea how to carry them, but luck was ever with her since befriending Silver. They travelled to the pixie realm and when taken back they were in the field of tall grass where Thea met with Silver. The horse stood in the same place Thea left it.

'Oh, thank you, Silver!' Thea clapped her hands together with glee. It was trouble laying them both atop the horse, there was quite a walk ahead of her. Silver looked at its nails as if what it’d done was nothing to grandeur. Thea began her long trek calling over her shoulder to her friend. 'You know,' said Thea, 'I believe your home is a dream. There is nothing as beautiful in this world as there is in yours.' Silver merely gestured to its stomach reminding Thea she carried something beautiful as well. 

Dreams affect us in our waking life, I think. We may wake up frightened by nightmares or angered by others. But I think our lives affect our dreams as well. I lost something precious to me long ago, traveller. I've dreamt of it to this day...Were you not in search of something precious as well? Did you dream of it this whole time? 

13: Once

Tell me, if I were to ask you of about joy what memory would come to mind? For me, I imagine snow. Soft and white; pure... so pure. And there are kisses, and laughter. There's salvation in the biting loneliness of existence. Every time I think upon this memory, I feel that old warmth spread. Sitting here, telling you tales, that also brings me joy, traveller.

Dracaena had a not-so-peaceful awakening having realized her child of gold was missing and not resting in whatever room she was in. Her mind reached out finding only a block separating their connection, though she felt him nearby. A wicked thought came to her then cruel and true to her nature, she would find him easily enough if only she burned her cell to the ground. Images of a great pyre danced through her mind and her chest grew warm with glee.

‘I wouldn’t,’ came a soft voice. Behind her sat two women drinking tea by a fire who watched her closely. ‘Do you remember me?’

‘I'd never forget your face.’ Dracaena whispered.

‘My name is Jimena, lest you’ve forgotten. Appointed atarah and queen of men now.’ She raised her teacup to the woman sitting across from her. ‘And her?’

‘Please, my lady. I doubt anyone would-’

‘Thea,’ Dracaena spoke flatly, recalling Jarin's fond memories of the girl. When she was young, she’d find nearly anything to cry about. It seemed little changed as Thea sipped more tea to hold back the tears in her eyes. ‘Where is he?’

‘Can I offer you a drink?’ Jimena held a kettle high. Dracaena asked again, more firmly than before. ‘He’s with his brother.’

‘Take me,’ she ordered. Jimena shook her head refusing her demand. ‘Remove whatever magic you’ve placed.’

‘Not until I’ve spoken to you first,’ she handed her cup to Thea who took it dutifully. ‘I know what my mother did to you... I spent so long trying to lift the shroud of mystery surrounding her. In that time, I’ve come to understand both she and my father.’

‘You disturb ashes long since passed. Make your point quickly.’

‘My point is I don’t agree with how either of them handled things, but I can see what they longed for-- what everyone of us longs for. We want freedom. Do you recall our first meeting?’ Dracaena would never forget a single detail of that day. Jimena, having been much younger, walked past with such confident strides. She told her they could be of great use to each other. ‘I still believe that, despite what you and yours have done to me and mine.’

‘What do you wish of me?’ Dracaena asked growing more curious. Jimena looked to Thea and wondered a moment.

‘Thea, dear, would you check to see if our lost prince has risen?’ An obvious ploy to be left alone, yet Thea seemed oblivious. Ever the trusting one she curtsied before setting out on her task. ‘Do you love your children?’ Dracaena raised her chin and proudly recalled her little prince. ‘No,’ Jimena shook her head earnestly, ‘he isn’t yours.’ Then Dracaena thought of her first brood. There was the gold, the green and the blue. Suddenly there was a stirring in her, her pride slipped away and, in its place, came a blackness.

‘My children...’ she clutched at her chest pain stinging her strong heart.

‘Yes,' Jimena affirmed seemingly knowing so much of Dracaena's kin. ‘I strongly believe that if we work together everyone would be free to live as they pleased. Even your kind.’ That was what Babette wished, though she decided it was best to be rid of Dracaena entirely. 'We've all been wronged and there are days I wish nothing more than to see the destruction of those who've wronged me. But what would come of it? Revenge would be sought, and this chaotic circle would continue. So, I am here deciding to drown whatever fury burns in me.'

'Take me to my child,' Dracaena insisted. Her only wish was to see Jarin's dreams fulfilled.

‘No,’ Jimena probably lost more composure than she'd have liked. ‘I’ve seen his desires-- his heart is blacker than yours. Once, there was a good honest boy. Whatever happened in your time away was--’

‘I swear I will raise this castle to the ground and you along with it.’ Dracaena threatened feeling her skin ready to burst into scales. Jimena backed away tumbling back into her seat. The block in her mind lifted instantly and all at once Jarin’s voice echoed, searching for her.

‘Mother, mother, mother,’ he called. She sighed in content longing to go to him. Jimena seemed to shake in defeat. Whatever she envisioned would happen, rejection was never an option. Dracaena knew her intentions were for the greater good and she pitied the Atarah. She wasn’t interested to learn where Jimena's travels led her but Dracaena, as all her kind would, recognized and respected one thing above all else.

‘You are strong. Much stronger than your mother ever was.’

_______________________________________________________________________________

Jarin woke with a numb mind, and everything came alive with his renewed alertness. When his armour was taken, he couldn’t say. All he knew was that it felt wrong to be unshielded. Off to his bedside he found a dishevelled man fast asleep in a chair. Jarin gazed down at his open palms assessing his situation.

‘Where am I?’ He wondered suddenly feeling as if something important was missing. He crept out of bed careful not to make a noise and eased himself to the door with unsteady legs, tugging and yanking to no avail.

‘You’re awake!’ The man stood with a bright smile. A brief pure and untainted memory of distant dreams came, and he knew once he’d been a brother to a bold little boy who always longed for adventure.

‘Merrick?’ He was shocked at his deep voice which was hoarse with neglect. He nodded; a smile softened by what Jarin read as gladness crept across his face.

'There's so much I want to tell you—to ask you! Where to begin!' And Merrick, ever his social self, began bombarding him with information. 'And Thea--' A knock came rapping at the door and after Merrick called them, an old man and a young woman strode in. 'Speak of the devil!'

'Can it be true...?' The old man grabbed onto the lady as if to keep from tipping over.  Merrick walked to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, nodding.

'He's home, Sir Borin.' Jarin's eyes widened in amazement, finally recognizing the man who'd been nothing but a father in place of his fallen one. In an instant he embraced him shutting his eyes tight, and when he felt sure enough that he wouldn't cry he let go. Jarin allowed himself to smile and turned to Merrick hugging him just as tight.

'You're big now.' Jarin realized he wasn't as scrawny as he'd once been. He was all broad shouldered and barrelled chest.

'Still not as tall as you, unfortunately,' Merrick laughed. He reached out to the lady then, beckoning her over. With a bowed head she remained frozen in place. 'Thea.' Merrick urged. He grabbed her trembling hands and gently coaxed her over. 'Whatever is the matter?'

'I'm just so very happy for you, my lord.' She looked up then face wet with tears, confirming that she was indeed still the Thea from so long ago. She sniffed hard, apologizing for her lack of decorum.

'You've not changed, Thea.' Jarin smiled.

'She's still the same stupid girl you remember,' Merrick laughed, teasing Thea with a dazzling grin. She flustered, burying her face into her hands.  All but Jarin laughed together sharing in a rare moment of true wholeness. His fingers twitched at his side as his mind wandered, searching out to fill the void yet felt.

'Mother, mother, mother,' he called.

'It's decided then!' Merrick broke Jarin of his trance. 'We'll have the feast tomorrow night! Thea, I hope you don't mind if I announce Jarin's return?'

'Not at all!' She finally extended a small smile. Jarin looked away, hers not being the face he sought. Without word of warning the door burst open and there at its threshold stood a girl panting as if having ran up the entire way. 'Dracaena, I was just going to grab you and..' Thea trailed off, being ignored a second time.

'There you are,' he broke into a sincere smile, far larger than any in the room had ever seen on Jarin's face.

__________________________________________________________________________

Later that day Merrick summoned Thea into his quarters. When arriving she found everyone close to her present excluding the newly awoken Prince and his dragon-girl. She felt worried upon seeing their grim expressions.

'Please,' Jimena offered her chair across a writing desk Merrick sat at. Fading light from the outside streamed in casting shadows on his usually sunny disposition. Behind him stood her husband and Amine, and Sir Borin guarded the door. When Thea sat Jimena stood beside her, wrapping an arm 'round her shoulders in comfort.

'What's wrong?' Merrick and Jimena looked between each other, expressions changing as if having a conversation. Despite not being in love Thea was glad they got on so well. Jimena refused to look away from her husband.

'You're wrong, Jimena.' He sent a levelling stare of his own. Amine cleared his throat and stepped forward upon seeing Thea looking around so perplexed.

'Perhaps I can explain.' He told her of the confrontation between Jimena and Merrick over the things she saw within Jarin and Dracaena's mind, and that something was surely afoot.

'It is my wish that they are separated and confined to their quarters,' finished Jimena.

'That is too far. You know of my brother's past, of course he'll harbour animosity. That's no reason for him to be confined or separated from Dracaena!'  Merrick looked to Thea, 'tell her! You saw how happy Jarin was when she came to him.'

'Thea,' Jimena tightened her hold, 'you've known and trusted my powers. Please, don't doubt them now.' Suddenly feeling backed into a corner, Thea looked desperately to Sir Oliver in hopes he'd save her from making a choice. All her husband could offer was an encouraging nod respectively chaining her to the seat. Merrick was right having known Jarin to always be a kind boy with a sad past. But Jimena held powers beyond anything anyone could imagine, often gauging minds of the stoniest men with a single look. Salvation came in a form she forgot was even present, standing silently and away from the conference.

'If I may?' Sir Borin stood forward clearing his throat. 'I, too, was present for their reunion. Never have I seen my prince as happy as was when that girl appeared. However, I must agree with the queen... Dracaena was never normal, whatever happened ten years ago with her took Prince Jarin away for a long time. I fear her. I fear him. I fear them together.'

The room fell silent then and all gazes seemed to drop to the floor in contemplation. Thea could only place a tender hand on her stomach hoping the future held only the best of things for her child.

'There will be no confinement-- no separation.' Merrick announced solemnly after the quiet moment passed. Jimena tore herself from Thea giving a rigid curtsy in acknowledgment of his judgement, hardly containing her anger. Merrick stared after her looking as though he wanted to say more, but Thea knew he was never any good at reconciliation. She gave a tight smile in attempts to soothe his worry. Jimena wouldn't stay mad at him for long.

___________________________________________________________________________

All were in celebration at the break of dawn with town criers announcing to every corner of the kingdom of the lost prince's return. The streets were filled with music and merriment, and petals were thrown across the roads as if its colour would consecrate the stone with joy.

The castle itself was buzzing as servants hurried to prepare for the feast that night. Jarin and Dracaena sat in his tiny room atop that tower. All morning it seemed lord after lord would come to welcome him home. Soon the pair grew weary of it and Jarin quickly ordered the unknown guard at his door to allow no strangers in.

Dracaena yawned, turning away from the open window overlooking the town below. Jarin's eyes did not stray, and he instead chose to lean closer almost hearing the music below. He believed he was once in love with something there, but so much changed in his absence it grew foreign to him. He knew he was always foreign to it at any rate, his home perished long ago. He spent all morning watching the town only acknowledging Dracaena once.

'Why're you waiting here still, in that form?'

'I don't want to be too far from you,' she answered. Finally, his brother came strolling in, exhuming happiness. Without even a greeting he brought Jarin into crushing hug.

'It's wonderful, isn't it?' Merrick nodded to the outside. Jarin could only manage a smile, it was wonderful in a fleeting way. Good things always ended, he knew and that itself was tragically beautiful. But he could never bring himself to upset his little brother with the things he thought. So, he only answered with a smile and a slight nod. 'Why don't you take a walk? The people would be glad to see you.' As if remembering she was present, Merrick turned to Dracaena and added, 'you as well.' Dracaena huffed as if to say spare me and she stood to acknowledge only her Jarin.

'I will walk.' She left in hurry escaping Merrick's taunting laughter. Jarin knew he'd join her soon when his restlessness began anew, and the urgent sting of his new purpose gripped at him again.

'My new purpose...' He took the opportunity to study Merrick's face again. So much he missed with his brother, so much missed with Sir Borin with his mother and father. All his life seemed like empty spaces that were supposed to be filled with happy things. He wished Merrick could be by his side always but that was an impossibility. Merrick had many things tethering him to that place, while Jarin... He willed the thoughts away, plastering a heavy smile on his face for his brother.

'Still tired?' Merrick clasped his shoulder.

'A little,' said Jarin. 'Don't you worry, I'll be ready for tonight.'

'That's what I like to hear! I know Sir Oliver will be cross with me for leaving the preparations to him, but I'd love to share lunch with you.' Jarin nodded relishing in knowing his brother still craved his attention. It wasn't much but he wouldn't miss out on this moment, and always would he treasure it.

As Jarin and Merrick spent the afternoon together, Dracaena found herself walking in endless circles about the castle garden. There seemed the least populated and whatever people were there she managed to scare away with a sneer. Her demeanor grew more beastly each passing minute, but she would suffer all for the sake of her child. All she desired-- all Jarin desired would come. The world would no longer seem a dreadful place and she'd be mother to him always.

'Soon,' she thought. Her eyes shifted to the valleys beyond where an old broken place laid untouched. 'Soon.'

_________________________________________________________________________________

Night fell and the merriment only continued within the castle. Songs were sung and wine was passed, and a brilliant display of food was splayed before them; bowls of peaches placed between each entre. Merrick sat at a table at the end of the hall, to his right was Jimena, then Thea and Sir Oliver, and to his left Jarin and Sir Borin. When it was sure that all attendees had a full goblet of wine Merrick banged his own empty one on the table and stood, holding it out to a prepared servant who filled it instantly. He held it high as the room went silent ready to hear the words of their soon-to-be king.

'Friends,' he began, looking about the room. 'I thank you for coming today. I thank you for staying faithful, for upholding your duties so diligently. Most of all I thank you for sharing this rare, shining.... monumentally joyous moment. It is with great pleasure I honour and announce,' he turned to Thea who could only look down in humility, 'Lady Thea and Sir Oliver's happiness in adding a third member to their most honourable family.' The room clapped and those closest to Thea and Sir Oliver did their best to congratulate them over the roaring noise. Jimena grabbed Thea's hand and gave it a loving squeeze, the two women smiled brightly despite the tension of the night prior. Merrick turned looking to Jarin. Instantly there was a glimmer of adoration in his eyes. 'And here... for so long...' Merrick cleared his throat. 'To Lady Thea and Prince Jarin!' He held out his cup again and drank quickly.

'To Lady Thea and Prince Jarin!' The room cheered. They drank and laughed; songs were sung, stories reminisced. Such joy could never be properly conveyed by my words, such gatherings never reproduced. As the night went on Thea would occasionally look to Jarin still unbelieving that he was sat right there, enjoying a feast as it was before. She could even see an inkling of happiness dance across his ever-solemn face.

Finally, Thea could breathe in the peace that was brought to all she loved by Jarin's return. She sat back enjoying the peaches prepared especially for her. Her life never felt so complete. Sir Oliver began mingling once filled with enough wine but not before covering Thea's face with kisses.

'Go on,' she laughed and pushed her husband away. She sat with Jimena for a time before the queen excused herself as well to make polite greetings to other members of the court.

'I'll be back at your side as soon as possible,' she promised and kissed Thea on the crown of her head. A drunk Merrick slid beside her and leaned over, biting the peach she worked on. Thea delighted with him glancing about the room, taking in all the smiles.

'I'm happy for you, Thea.' Merrick smiled looking to her stomach. 'I can't believe you're going to be a mother!' She laughed, reminding him of all the times she'd clean up after him. He grew quiet then and drank from his goblet in contemplation. 'I suppose you've been mothering me since I was a boy and you a girl,' he said. Thea almost missed the upset across his face it was so brief. 'If things were different, you know, I think...' And all that came after drowned out when she realized the returned prince stood and crept away from the table. He only stopped to linger at the threshold of the room, hesitating as if some unseen force dared him to walk those few final steps. 'Thea?' Merrick called her attention once more. 'Have you heard a word I've said?'

'Prince Jarin...' She muttered and recalled again ten years ago how he snuck away from the feast in the very same manner she just witnessed. She always stayed close to Merrick because he liked it even if she annoyed him often. But with Jarin she could only be close if he allowed it. She wished she could be close to him as she'd been to Merrick. Perhaps then he wouldn't be so solemn; so reclusive. Merrick sat back in his seat drinking more muttering to himself. 'Prince Jarin." She said again much louder, pointing.

'I heard you the first time, Thea. You, however, did not hear me.' He sighed in disappointment. 'Oh well, it's better. I am a bit drunk. I think.'

'Here,' she passed her own barely touched wine. She'd never an appetite for the drink. 'Have mine.' She stood and with a final look to Merrick she realized this was her one opportunity to keep his happiness intact. She raced through the room offering apologies to those who tried to stop her for a chat. Out into the long halls she looked both ways before spotting Jarin turning out towards the gardens. She ran, holding her skirts high to gain speed. At the end of the garden Jarin stood looking down at Dracaena who'd been missing from the celebration. She knew now why that was.

'Ready then?' She heard her ask. The only thing Thea could think to do was call to him.

'You always left celebrations before they ended!' She huffed trying to catch her breath.

'Thea?' Jarin peered towards her, 'I didn't think anyone would notice.'

'I always have,' she admitted stepping closer towards the pair. 'What are you doing?' She inspected them, though they carried little she was sure they were prepared to travel. 'You're leaving, is that it?'

'Go back inside, Thea, there's a whole celebration for you-'

'And you!' She covered her mouth, unable to believe she raised her voice to royalty. Dracaena chuckled and walked further away.

'I'll be waiting,' she called, ignoring Thea who begged her to come back as well. If she stayed, she was sure Jarin would, too. But Dracaena was fast and disappeared into the shadow quicker than Thea could comprehend.

'Thea,' Jarin spoke kindly as he always had when she was young and ready to cry. The tenderness of his voice was enough to make her crumble, but she knew she couldn't. Not yet.

'You're leaving?' She asked again and Jarin nodded. 'Why?' She didn't want Merrick to be sad again, she couldn't bear to see it.

'There's nothing for me here.'

'What about Merrick?  Sir Borin?' What about me?  She wanted to say, she was also his friend. Was that nothing? Had she deceived herself in thinking all those memories were dearer to her than they were to him? Suddenly she felt a little girl again, too afraid to leave her mother's side. She hid her face in her hands and wept when a comforting arm came to wrap itself around her. A soft kiss was placed at the crown of her head.

'There now, hush,' came Jimena's voice. Thea could only imagine the glares the queen and the lost prince shared, knowing there was no love between them. Whatever Jimena saw made sure of that, and who was to say how long the queen stood watching them.

'It's good to know she's well-tended.'

'Indeed,' said Jimena.

'Don't let him leave,' Thea begged, 'Please, for Merrick, don't let him leave.'

Jimena's comforting arm unraveled, and Thea looked up hopefully to see her queen stopping the prince. Jimena grabbed hold of his arm and looked him straight in the eyes, and bolder than Thea could ever imagine Prince Jarin to be, he looked right back.

'I see it,' spoke Jimena, 'you want to go back to Ivemere. But I'll tell you there is nothing for you there now; nothing but ash and ruin, and the despair you've held onto all this time.'

'Stay out of my head,' Jarin loomed over her in an almost threatening way.

'I don't need to be inside your head to see it. I know what you're feeling, I've felt it, too. Trust me when I say there's nothing for you there.' With nothing left to offer, Jarin tore his arm from her grip and turned on his heels to follow the dragon.

Loss of a loved one is a hard thing to accept. I've known my share of losses; each one left a lingering pain that refuses to leave. Though they say all wounds heal in time, I cannot help but wonder if mine ever will. But I look at you and know you've suffered, too. Give me your hand... yes, I can feel your sorrow in the rhythm of your heart. Once upon a time we knew love. And once upon a time we lost it...

14: Paths

Ah, child, in life one will always have questions. I, too, even at this old age seek answers to mine. When young, I’d hope the future would offer something, and now I look back hoping I’ll find something my youthful eyes missed. I come up empty, the only answer given is knowing I’ve only accomplished wasting time looking back and forth. Why, I wonder now, was I so impatient? So incapable of focusing on the present. Just like our Jarin… Always looking back, so blind to the things taken place before him. If we look what we have now, what good can we offer?

It was to the past they looked doubling back to the cavern Thea described she found them sleeping. Why were they found there and not the forest, Jarin wondered? How was it they came to be there? They came upon the opening, finding nothing but broken crystal that once homed them in their long sleep. Jarin held a piece up to his torch and gazed in wonder as to how it was able to hold them in stasis. Dracaena was less concerned in the logistics of it, magic had never been a question of how it worked, only that it was and would always be. Gliding her hand across the cavern walls, she looked hard for any indication to lead them to an answer. Soon, her sharp primal eyes locked in on a small crack in the wall. A strong wind current pulled the stagnant air towards it. She peered through the opening, surmising it was large enough for both of them to squeeze through.

‘Here,’ she called to Jarin, not waiting to see if he’d follow. She shimmied through and took in a deep breath when she came upon a steep edge overlooking a waterfall within the cave system. She followed the roaring river with her sharp eyes, ignoring the splattering water on her face. Finally, her gaze came to rest upon a black undisturbed pool. Beyond those were small streams leading outside of the cave, further into the unknown. She shivered; a feeling of nostalgia fell upon her as she sniffed at the air.

‘What have you found?’ Jarin finally emerged from behind.

‘An answer,’ was all Dracaena offered, leading her prince down a steep path. They held tight to the outer wall and watched for loose gravel beneath their feet. Finally, they came to the large body of water and waited. For what, Jarin couldn’t say, but he trusted Dracaena in knowing something slept beneath would lend answers to the things he sought.

After what seemed to be hours the unnaturally still waters became disturbed. Something emerged slowly from the depths below, the waters seemed to string about the mass ascending. With a protective hand, Dracaena pushed her prince he behind her knowing that if worse came to worst she could burst from her mortal prison at any time. Soon, the face of a dragon with deep azure-coloured scales emerged dripping wet, they shimmered in the reflection of the rippling waters; its deep dark eyes gazed straight into the eyes of Dracaena’s. A deep rumbling came from the beast’s throat, and Jarin quickly moved for the sword hilted on his hip. His hand stayed by Dracaena’s own.

‘Welcome,’ the dragon spoke slowly. As if its very booming voice would bring down the cave overhead if it spoke too forcefully. ‘Mother.’ Jarin looked to Dracaena then, understanding that the great dragon before them was of her brood. Dracaena sighed before reaching for its snout. Without hesitation the dragon surrendered itself to her touch, lowering its head as if showing respect.

‘Was it you who brought us here?’ Jarin interrupted. The dragon gazed up with its unsettling endless gaze, dark eyes trained on the prince.

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘I am loyal to my mother,’ the dragon offered simply. ‘I have always been loyal to my mother, and I have been scorned for it.’ Jarin remembered the visions of Dracaena’s past; long ago, when Babette had first laid the trap for her, there was a dragon used as bait who tried warning his mother of the danger. ‘I make of the water my home there’s no strife to be found beneath the depths.’

‘You brought us here for protection then?’ Jarin gathered, to which the dragon closed its large eyes in a sort of acknowledgement. Jarin could feel himself fighting for dominance against Dracaena’s will. A dragon laid before him, granted it was one who had protected him from potential harm, but it was a dragon, nonetheless.

‘I felt my mother’s presence twice. Once when she awoke, and again in the forest. My brothers must have felt it, too.’

‘Come with us,’ Dracaena said. Her child blew out from its nostrils before shaking its head wearily.

‘I am tired. I ache for sleep, and…’ his eyes shifted back to Jarin who stood as if ready to unsheathe his sword. ‘I am weary of conflict.’

‘Sleep then,’ Dracaena caressed its snout one last time. She turned and laid her hand on Jarin next, soothing him all at once. She knew her child was of no threat to them, she would fulfill Jarin’s wish but this child was hers. She would keep it.

‘One more thing before you go,’ the dragon said, descending into his waters until only half his face showed. As if understanding his intentions Dracaena looked into his eyes and his memories passed from him to her. Jarin grabbed his head, seeing all she saw; the surge of magic was too much for him to take. He screamed falling to his knees as the visions passed through him. Flashes of Caelo Tactus came before him; the largest mountain in all Yorthas. Sky touch in the common tongue. There were hundreds of dragons nesting at its heart, well beyond the reach of the elves that called the mountains their homes. Below in the ancient forests of Imivere, his rightful kingdom, one as ancient as the one ruling the mountain lurked about in the ashes of his fallen people, and below the depths was the very dragon before him. A familiar voice chimed, naming the three he deemed demons.

‘Caeruleum, Viridi, Aurum.’ The voice pleaded. Then he saw her face, the meddling elf that seemed to want him locked away always. Jimena. Yes, he knew because of Dracaena of her fear of his anger. How odd it was to him that she would pose as such an opposition when she, herself, had suffered at the hands of dragons too. But there she was, before she had made the decision to marry his brother, she had scoured the Imivere forests, and all Yorthas in search of doing the opposite of what he had trying to finish what her mother had started. She hoped the power of Dracaena’s original brood together would be enough to bring about peace for her people, for humans, for dragons; everyone.

Jarin at last was pulled out of the visions. Awakened only by Dracaena’s comforting hand on his back. He nodded, letting her know he would be okay. Jarin stood and approached the one he now knew as Caeruleum.

‘She tried to broker peace with all of you.’ Dracaena clarified, ‘why did you object?’

‘My children,’ said Caeruleum glancing a little ways behind them. Both Jarin and Dracaena turned eyes settling on broken shards that looked like rocks, overgrown with cave moss. ‘I do not remember what creature came and did this to my children, only that it happened and quite some time ago. I am tired, and care for little else than sleep. Whatever you decide next for this world,’ again, Caeruleum looked at Dracaena, ‘all I ask is that you let me sleep. I’ve asked the same of this Jimena, who came pleading for all of our help.’

‘You will have your sleep,’ Dracaena promised. Accepting this, Jarin nodded in agreement. If Caeruleum had no intention of solitude, he had no problem forgetting the dragon was there. It submerged itself fully then after gaining their word. The dark water stilled, and never did the dragon choose to rise from those depths again.

‘Jarin,’ Dracaena spoke after a quiet moment, leading him towards the draft felt. Soon they came upon another winding way which they were certain would lead them out. ‘What if there is another way… Jimena, though insufferable—’

‘I won’t hear it,’ Jarin shook his head and brushed passed Dracaena. ‘If peace is what your kind wanted, they’d have sought it long ago. Do you think they wouldn’t for a second think to betray you again for chance at more power? ‘Dracaena stopped, remembering her golden dragonling claiming he no longer wished to be in her shadow. ‘If Jimena was right about anything, it’s that we may not be able to do this on our own, even with your power. If they sealed you before, they could do it again.’

‘What are you suggesting?’ she continued at his side. Ahead of them came a faint light just around the bend, soon they were blinded by the outside. Jarin inhaled deeply, only just realizing how thick and stagnant the cavern air had been, perhaps it was the dragon’s misery that polluted the inside, or perhaps it had always been so inside all caves. The only thing he knew what that he was glad to be out. He looked about in attempt to gather his bearings, locating Caelo Tactus wasn’t difficult. Its sharp peak aimed directly under the sun, to the east was the forbidden mountain pastures which homed the elves. Though not ideal, they had powerful magic strong enough to oppose their common enemies. Dracaena’s eyes followed, and all at once she understood. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘They are not to be trusted.’

‘We have no other choice if Jimena persuades them before we do—’

‘You don’t think the girl has tried? Those elves are much different than the kind you met in the forest. They would never tolerate any human—let alone a dragon in their territories. Even if you were still a child, you’d be killed on sight.’

‘I’ve made my choice,’ Jarin continued his journey. Not once did he glance back to check if Dracaena would follow. She would undoubtedly come if only to protect him from everything she feared.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Jimena sat tall on the throne holding court in her husband’s stead. When Merrick learned of Jarin’s departure, he took to his bed and did not leave. One week turned to one month, and Jimena took no time at all to rule in her husband’s stead. Though her face was cast in a perfect mask of serenity Thea could not miss the slight cracks in the strong front she put forth. Slight twitches around her mouth nearly sloping down into a frown, or how her eyes would glaze over, and the mask of serenity would turn to fatigue. Old men of the court argued long and loud about the state of their absent king, and how the rivalling kingdom of Konelar had continued making slights in knowing their weakened state. A single commoner stood in their center, humbly holding his skullcap to his chest with eyes glued to the floor. Thea could see how uncomfortable he was under the scrutiny of the court, shifting from one leg to the other as if summoning all his will to not jump up and run out the door. He, however, remained dutiful and listened to the pompous lords and aristocrats argue about the commoner’s report.

‘I’d seen one on the first day, then two the next. They wore black and red; my eyes aren’t what they used to be so I couldn’t say… I think I’d seen a burning tree etched into their shields. I couldn’t say, your grace. They stole some of my crops.’ He bowed his head respectfully.

‘They are dancing with the idea of war,’ said one lord with arms neatly folded behind his back.

‘They are scouts travelling through our land, surely one or two men wearing their colours aren’t need for alarm,’ spoke another.

‘Scouts looking for what exactly?’

‘Konelar would never dream of doing anything of the sort when King Liam was in power!’ The room silenced when Jimena raised her hands, all looked to her waiting for her to speak. Jimena was silent a moment before letting out a slow drawn-out breath.

‘There is reason for concern,’ she agreed, ‘but a couple of men wandering into Yorthas is not an act of aggression.’ The room erupted into loud arguments, men shouting goodness-knows-what across the room at each other. Thea locked eyes with Sir Borin, his brows were knitted tightly into worry. The state of the kingdom was rapidly decaying without Merrick, even if Jimena was a strong leader, she could not quell their worry for some still considered her an outsider. One thing was certain; the kingdom needed their king.

After the court dissipated, Thea stepped as lightly as she could behind Jimena’s hurried angry pace. She loosened the cuffs of her silver laced dress, mumbling frustratedly beneath her breath. Without realizing Thea’s hands brushed her slowly enlarging stomach, it had become such a soothing gesture to her as she felt it her baby grow. Passing Merrick’s quarters Jimena slowed her pace and slightly turned her head. Thea knew she wanted just as badly as she did to march in there and drag Merrick to his feet and tell him that his people needed him. Having lost his brother for a second time was clearly too much to bear. Soon, they found themselves alone in Jimena’s study. She sat behind her desk, extending a hand to the chair across from her.

‘Thank-you for attending court with me everyday, Thea. I don’t know if I could bear it without you.’

‘Please,’ Thea shook her head. Being a good friend didn’t require any thanks. She watched Jimena for a quiet moment noting how sad she looked all at once. Jimena, no matter how hard she tried to mask her emotions, was someone Thea could only describe as sad. She never asked for details of her past, but every now and then Jimena would describe a fond memory over a hot cup of Thea’s tea. She would gain this far away look in her eye as if seeing her memories play out before her. ‘Where did you go?’ Thea leaned over and grabbed her hand successfully bringing Jimena back from her musings.

‘Well,’ Jimena smiled, ‘I had a thought. Though I will readily admit of my lack of confidence in said idea.’ Thea tilted her head in confusion waiting for her to continue. ‘A trip to Konelar is how many days trip?’

‘About four by horseback,’ Thea thought aloud, ‘depending how fast you ride.’ Jimena nodded. ‘Oh, tell me you don’t mean to go there!’ She squeezed Jimena’s hand tightly in worry. It took the people of Yorthas quite a while to accept the elves into their midst, even now there were tensions despite having an elven queen. If anyone believed the people of Yorthas to be intolerant, Konelar could be labelled ten times worse. Their king would barely allow women to attend court, and his queen was more an ornament than anything. Merrick welcomed Jimena’s counsel openly and valued her opinions. That was what made them such a strong match, their mutual respect took them far and made their union work.

‘I’ve little to no choice in the matter,’ Jimena sighed. It was true, the tensions were rising with many lords calling for Jimena to gather their men and ride out to stop the brewing tensions by means of force. Though those in favour of staying their hand would say this would only make things worse. ‘Going with a battalion would only spark whatever King Rorric is aiming for.’ Thea nodded, knowing the rumours of the blood-thirsty king. He took the throne by means of usurping. If he caught wind of Yorthas’ weakened state, he would look to move in and conquer to extend his land and rule. ‘If I went alone… we could bargain, come to certain terms of agreement.’

‘It wouldn’t be safe for you to go alone,’ Thea rubbed her belly.

‘I’ve already spoken with Amine. He will attend me.’  

‘I’m sorry to say…’ Thea bit her lip, as if stating it made her as bad as the people who believed it. ‘Two elves walking into Konelar—trying to bargain with their king no less.’ Thea looked up puzzled when hearing Jimena laugh.

‘Thea,’ she smiled, ‘do you know what Atarah means?’ She shook her head. ‘Crown. I am the crown of my people, and they trust me. Not just because of my father. I am the eyes of the forest.’ Thea had heard both Merrick and Amine mentioning something about it before to her, never quite understanding what it meant. Jimena’s eyes glazed over momentarily once more. She brought a nervous thumb to her lips, lightly biting on her nail. ‘I’ll be alright,’ Jimena promised, coming back on her own. ‘And when this is done, Merrick will have to help me in more pressing issues.’

‘Will you allow me to come with you?’

‘It’s too dangerous for you, Thea. You have a child growing inside you.’ Jimena shook her head.

‘What if I told you I knew a quicker way? Not by four days but one?’ At that Jimena raised her brows intrigued. ‘Take me with you, and I’ll show you the way.’

 

If you were struck by tragedy, what path would you take? Had someone done you a great grievance; made to harm those you loved, given the chance would you harm them back? My dear traveller, I could not tell you which path I’d choose… To give into the shadows or to fight them? And what if the shadow is that of your father’s? Then perhaps, like Jarin, I would be consumed.

15: Shadows Call

Dark is the hour have you no mind to sleep? This story is important to you for your journey has led you here. It is important to realize what it is you hold dear; it will keep you true on your path when the way seems too dark to continue, but one must be ever mindful to honour that which you have in the here and now. For all things can be taken away in the blink of an eye….

Ever true was the path to the mountains, their high peaks stood proud like a beacon quickening their steps. Soon the terrain shifted as they made their way high above the deep forest. Bushes, weeds, and moss were the last of the greenery. They clung to the bright white of the limestone mountains. Every now and again Jarin would kneel to admire the courage of the plants that claimed their space upon those barren hills.

‘They’ll die soon,’ Dracaena commented, looking endlessly to the sky as she disillusioned Jarin. For all he’d grown he yet seemed to be that little boy she met so many years ago. Jarin pulled his hand away from the shrubs as if the wiry leaves would burn him. He stood slowly, gaze then resting upon Dracaena who seemed to be longing for the sky again. ‘It’s almost winter,’ she added. With that Jarin nodded, understanding he could no longer hold them up for the winter was treacherous upon the mountains.

They walked in silence for hours coming to a great plateau spanning a staggering distance before them. The skies above were muddied with clouds that had rolled in hours ago, and Jarin could do naught but hold his arms tight close to him to ward off the deepening cold. His breath puffed out in front of him with each laboured breath he took higher up the mountain. The tableland seemed as good a place as any to rest which Dracaena seemed to agree with. She sat down looking unbothered by the changing weather staring intently at her companion. Jarin cocked his head in question.

‘Why haven’t you put on the armour? My scales will protect you from any heat or cold.’

‘Why haven’t you turned back into a dragon?’ Jarin countered digging about his pack for said armour.

‘Caeruleum,’ the name sounded foreign on her tongue. And why wouldn’t it be? Neither she nor her brood came into this world with names like mortals. ‘If I turn now, I’ll be the largest target seen from each end of Yorthas and maybe beyond. Not only will the elves come but my children. Perhaps the elf girl as well. I cannot protect you from all. Put the armour on.’ The jagged scales were sharp, rough, and much lighter than expected. He folded and extended each arm numerous times as if doing so moulded the armour to his body better. With the final clasp put in place there was an instant warmth that soothed instantly settling his rattling bones, and just in time for the first snow to fall. Both the dragon and the prince stared up in wonder at the dark endless sky, bits of white danced below towards them. They had many enemies that Jarin hoped he could lessen in number. Surely, the elves wanted the same as he. ‘Sleep, little prince.’ Dracaena stood to keep watch. ‘For beyond the tableland I’m not sure how much time you’ll have for it.’ Not needing much coaxing, Jarin leaned back and allowed the falling snow to hypnotise him to sleep.

‘Soon,’ he thought as he drifted off.

When Jarin awoke it had been no brighter than when he dozed. It would seem the days before him were to be overcast and he briefly wondered if that was an ill omen of something ahead. Without a sound he and Dracaena traversed the newly coated flat land. The crunching snow beneath them and Jarin’s heaving breath the only sound to chorus with the howling winds. On they went finally reaching the jagged paths of the mountains. Somewhere beyond laid the potential of a most powerful ally.

‘Soon,’ Jarin repeated to himself over and over. Soon all would be as he and Dracaena willed. Soon he would have his home returned, soon the demons he so bitterly hated would feel the very venom they instilled. Dracaena took the lead with light steps watching the floor beneath for anything that might be cause for alarm, and Jarin followed her every step; her very movement with careful calculation. The higher they went the stiller the world became, an eery silence washed over them as Dracaena held out a hand to stop Jarin in his tracks. With a slow finger to her lips, she glanced about as if hearing something Jarin could not.

‘They have their bows trained on us already,’ came Dracaena’s voice. Jarin followed her eyes to a stone situated slightly above them on a cliff face not too far off. Her gaze then shifted to another rock just a stone’s throw ahead. Though Jarin could see nothing he knew she was showing every point of which they hid. They were surrounded but no movement was made to engage them.

‘What are they waiting for?’ Jarin asked puzzled by the endless anticipation. He stepped forward only to be stopped by Dracaena’s tight grip about his wrist. He looked back at his fierce protector with a smile, assuring her it would be alright. Her grip loosened slightly and yet she still shook her head, Jarin freed himself raising his hands high doing his best to look helpless.

‘Hello?’ He called out with only his echo to return his call. ‘I was hoping you could help me. Please come out.’ In an instant, Jarin was sent falling on his side from a quick yank. A blazing arrow came whizzing passed where he once stood, and Jarin understood he was not welcome there. ‘Please,’ he stood, and again he was pushed aside by Dracaena when another arrow came from the opposite direction of the first. She stood over Jarin, snarling fiercely in a protective manner. This time arrows came from all about simultaneously. The whizzing ensemble flew directly towards them and all Jarin could do was raise a defensive arm and shut his eyes tightly. But there would be no piercing end for him as Dracaena shielded him with her fierce breath. She burned away both arrow and snow until nothing but the stone beneath showed. Jarin dared to stand once more placing a calming hand on Dracaena’s back. Still baring her feral fangs towards the unseen foe, she allowed Jarin to step forward once more in confidence. ‘Won’t you come out?’

Jarin hadn’t realized just how many they were as they popped out from every nook, cranny, and stone. His eyes widened finding they still had their bows pointed directly at them. They were all bundled up in robes and cloaks, finely woven materials wrapped all the way around their heads so that only their eyes were visible. And how fierce those eyes were, all staring with a burning hatred for the strangers standing before them. Intricate patterns printed on each piece of clothing, and fiery red gemstones sewn loosely on the end of each tasselled piece. Without waiting for an invitation, a handful of them stalked towards the two and pulled out worn rope. Dracaena looked about ready to burst when they yanked her arms back only staying her hand at the will of her prince.

‘No.’ He intently focused his thoughts to her. Now was not the time to act rashly if he was to earn their trust, and if they brought them to their leader, they’d a better chance of negotiations. They bound first their wrists, then connected the rope to one another to walk them in a straight line. The elf that tied them together mumbled low, and Jarin could barely make out the muffled tones. The only discerning feature of his was his deep green eyes. All at once the roped around them tightened and there was no doubt in Jarin’s mind that his skin had been rubbed raw. Soon the mountain dwellers wordlessly began to fall out taking a single formation up the mountain path, arrows still well-trained on them. They walked for what seemed to be ages, all the world blended into a single white colour. As fatigue began to strike, all Jarin could remember was the words of his mother urging him through the ruined catacombs as they escaped the castle.

‘Come sweetling, onward,’ he remembered her words. Steeling himself, he shook off his weariness and trudged on. Finally, they came upon a gorge that opened a new world to them. Buildings carved straight into the limestone mountains, monuments, statues; an entire city blanketed by white bustled with life. All wore the similar fashion of robes and cloaks with faces bundled by fine scarves to stay the cold. A great stone hovering at the heart of the city square, emitting a brilliant warmth. Jarin could do nothing but stop and stare in awe, only to be shocked back into reality from the elf with the green eyes behind him shoving him roughly. Dracaena was quick to lunge at the offender in defense of her child, her plan only foiled by the enchanted rope that seemed to tighten even more around both her and Jarin who cried out from the pain. As if understanding Dracaena backed down, relaxing only when the rope loosened. The elf shoved her aside with his broad shoulders, slowing to meet her fierce glare with one of his own. He continued with the rest of his company ahead.

‘Are you alright?’ Dracaena pulled Jarin to his feet.

‘Yes,’ he rubbed at his wrists. They followed behind the rest who pulled at their ropes

‘I don’t like this. Command me and I will fly you far from here.’ Dracaena spoke low.

‘Not yet,’ was all Jarin said. He knew she was unhappy with that answer, not wishing to be subjected to the humiliation. But he had a plan he was adamant to see through. And he would see it through. They stepped carefully down steep steps which spiralled towards the city square. Jarin, despite himself, could do nothing but drink it all in. He looked about noting the woodland elves lived in a completely different world. People stopped to stare at the company entering the city, the life within seemed to come to a complete stop to witness the intruders. Only the voice of a young child Jarin could see not too far from him could be heard as he tugged on the skirt of his mother and pointed. He could only imagine what the child asked his mother who quickly shushed her child and stepped further away as if frightened. All eyes were on them but there was a particular gaze that seemed to burn in Jarin the most. Hanging high above the levelled floors was an intricately built stone cage, and inside two young elves looking near identical; one girl one boy wearing clothes that looked much too light to be worn in winter. He caught their eye almost immediately causing a chill to run down his spine. Though their appearance was nothing spectacular there was something odd about them.

They were led into a great fortress leading into the mountain, at its far end was the outer edge looking out over the forest of Yorthas. At the center they could see a great depression where once upon a time a dragon burned the woodland realm; there was no doubt that life would bloom again come the spring. A silhouette of a throne was placed before the overlook facing them; an imposing figured sat proudly flanked by a contingent of guards. Those leading Dracaena and Jarin towards the figure dropped to one knee and bent their heads low in respect.

‘Aharonah Ebenezer,’ spoke the green-eyed elf. The man in the throne held up a hand, replying in their own language. His tone laced in anger as he spewed out words that seemed to dismiss the rest of the party. They hurried out as respectfully as they could, clearly frightened by the exchange about to take place.

‘You, human,’ the man in the throne addressed Jarin. The other pulled him forward and roughly forced him to his knees. ‘Your travelling here is an offense in it of itself, but to bring this… filth before my people.’

‘I—’ Jarin began, only to have the words beaten back into his mouth. He spat out the blood glaring up at the green-eyed elf who seemed to believe Jarin’s very existence was a slight upon his person.

‘Listen when the Aharonah speaks.’

‘Please, Eitan,’ spoke the one in the throne. ‘Do you know the blight you’ve brought into my halls?’ he nodded to Dracaena who lifted her chin in defiance. ‘This demon will be nothing but a memory come the morning. As will you. I hope your trip here was worth it.’

‘Please,’ Jarin scowled towards Eitan daring him to hit him again. ‘If I may,’ he continued to address the one in charge.

‘You may not. I’ve no interest in further sullying my halls with you nor this… thing any longer. Your kind has caused enough harm to me and mine. Eitan, hang them with the twins outside. Let them watch the stars one last time.’

‘As you will it Aharonah Ebenezer.’ The one known as Eitan yanked at their ropes and dragged them out the way they came.

‘We mean you no harm,’ Jarin tried to reason.

‘Tell it to our fallen cousins in the forest.’ Eitan spat back. Once again, they came to the city square where Eitan immediately barked orders to the garrison. Soon, a cage was lowered, barely large enough to fit both Jarin and Dracaena. Eitan carelessly shoved both inside slamming the door behind them. ‘What joy it will bring to finally see you destroyed, dragon.’

‘I have no doubt, elf,’ she stood as the cage was raised high above the people, ‘I will enjoy burning you soon.’ He stormed off with his men in tow and soon the city continued living, forgetting, or ignoring the new captives. ‘Jarin,’ Dracaena huffed. ‘Let me kill them.’

‘I already told you that I’ve made my choice.’ Jarin shook his head, trying his best to gain his balance in the swaying cage. His concentration broken from the small commotion children running around the cage of the imprisoned elves. They began skipping about the cage chanting something Jarin could never hope to try and translate.

‘Those elves over there,’ he pointed to the others locked in a similar cage as their own. The occupants sat on their knees pressing into each other as if in some sort of meditative state. ‘Why do you suppose they’re locked away?’ Dracaena shook her head not quite interested, though she did seem to delight in the children who began throwing small stones at them.

‘Young, brash. Perhaps they offended the right people?’ She smiled as if the thought pleased her. Jarin wondered if they could be at all useful to them. ‘What’s brewing in that loud little mind of yours?’ Both Dracaena and Jarin perked up when the children began screaming and running away. They looked over at the twins who’d barely moved, only having opened their eyes to peer down at the offending children. Guards instantly surrounded the cage waving around spears with sharp points that glowed similarly to the great center stone of the city. As if unbothered the twins exhaled slowly, casting a mere pensive expression down to the guards.

The sun set as quickly as one would expect in winter, casting shadows across the city square where most had retired to their homes inside. Only the bright stone of the city burned to light and warm the surrounding area. Stragglers staying out past daylight strolled by without a care, enjoying the company of their friends or lovers. Oh, how strange it was to witness for Jarin that life seemed just the same for them as it was for any human. He studied it all, wondering if one day he could write about his own adventures to pass down to the following generations. Would societies still live apart from one another? Would they merge? Would he be the catalyst that brought them together? Perhaps without the threat of the dragons they would at last be able to settle whatever differences they had. And briefly he thought upon his little brother the dear boy would beam brightly in awe of it all.

‘Look,’ Jarin noted labourers rising early to build the stage for the spectacle which was to be their hanging. Dracaena scoffed at their efforts; all her patience dissipated throughout the night. Jarin knew she wished for them to leave or to burn the city down to ashes, some course of action was better than none. However, he understood that this would be the deciding factor for whether or not he would gain or lose their confidence forever. Knowing their magic was strong would only aid him in the future. And what kind of king would he be without people?

‘Good morning,’ the one addressed as Aharonah Ebenezer strolled out with a company of what seemed to be advisors struggling to keep his near giddy pace. His robes hung messily exposing his bare shoulder. His appearance gave them the impression he rolled right out of bed as if the events that would soon take place excited him too greatly to sleep in. ‘A lovely day we’re having, no?’ He grinned, laughing merrily when only met with Jarin’s blank expression and Dracaena’s scowl. ‘Well… maybe not for you.’ He laughed once more and began to head back in the direction he came barely offering the twins (who at that point hadn’t moved at all since the children from last night) a glance.

‘I’m going to kill the dragons,’ Jarin called, effectively stopping him and his advisors in their tracks. Such a proud statement hadn’t gone unnoticed and soon everyone within the vicinity had their eyes on Jarin.

‘And how do you intend to do that?’ Emerging from the gathering crowd came Eitan, who had no head piece wrapped around him now. But Jarin could pick him out by his voice and eyes that seemed to be eternally fixed into a glare. It was painfully obvious looking at him now that he and Ebenezer were related. Brothers? Cousins? Jarin couldn’t pinpoint it, but the family resemblance ran deep.

‘Do enlighten us,’ Ebenezer encouraged. ‘How do you intend to kill anything from inside that cage?’ Without allowing Jarin a word he continued, ‘and you,’ He looked at Dracaena. ‘Oldest of them all, why help in such an endeavour?’

‘They have harmed me,’ Jarin finally answered.

‘Us all,’ said Eitan with a bitter shake of his head.

‘They burned my home when I was young. They took my family from me.’ Jarin gripped the bars tightly, shaking from the memories he kept reliving. The castle shaking, the sky burnt orange, people screaming. Lost in his own memories, Jarin could not see the effect he had on Dracaena. Her breaths became ragged and heavy from the hatred seeping from Jarin’s heart into her own. Her skin burned and tightened slowly threatening to burst in her rising fury. All she could do was try her best to keep her power at bay, and slowly she rolled her head to gaze into the center stone rising and falling effortlessly above the ground. It burned a hot red as if reflecting the ire of their joined spirit. And this did not go unchecked by Eitan or Ebenezer who glanced at nervously between it and Dracaena. ‘I will kill the dragons,’ Jarin loosened his grip on the bars. Dracaena drew in a breath as if the only thing Jarin was wringing had been her neck. The stone dimmed back into a soft red glow and the air cooled about them.

‘I see…” Ebenezer mumbled glancing around at his nervous people. ‘We may share a common enemy in these creatures; however, it would seem allowing you to leave would be catastrophic… to say the least. Whatever means you employed to get this one under you control is impressive, but you are clearly consumed by this path. You will die as scheduled.’

‘We can help each other!’ What more did they need than knowing he would cleanse the world? ‘I’m going to reclaim Imivere, you can have a home there.’

‘We have a home, and I now tire of your prattle.’ He signalled for the guards. ‘Kill them,’ he looked to the twins in the cage. ‘All of them.’ Eitan held up his hand ready to signal the archers hesitating. He shook his head as if doing so would banish the tempting offer laid at their feet. ‘Kill them!’ Yelled Ebenezer. Eitan’s hand flew down cutting the air, the whistling of the arrows seeking their target called out. A great roar burst through the sound echoing out into the valleys of Yorthas below, and high about the sky reaching even the peeks of Caelo Tactus. The mountain beneath shook fiercely, Jarin could feel the hollow cave systems crumbling below as he fell into the ground. He could barely move from how tightly pressed he was from Dracaena’s great body looming over him protectively. Screams finally cut through the reverberating noise of her call. Fire crackled, arrows helplessly flicking off her hard scales, screams, children crying… The face of his mother looking back to the fallen kingdom of Imivere as she wept flashed in his mind.

‘Dracaena!’ Jarin could barely hear himself. ‘Dracaena, no!’ He felt the dragon tense from his call, and slowly the weight of her lifted as she stepped back to allow Jarin to rise. He stood, finding Eitan and Ebenezer stead fast with hands held straight out in front of them, a fierce glow of red emitted from their palms wrapping itself around them and everything and everyone behind. Even as the stone had tumbled over with a great rupture running up it’s side, it emitted a low hum as if fuelling their great shield. Upon seeing Jarin emerge they looked warily upwards to Dracaena’s looming frame. Jarin held out his hands to salvage whatever peace he could.

‘What do you want?’ Eitan screamed, quickly falling back in step with Ebenezer as Jarin approached.

‘I want peace,’ Jarin replied.

‘This is not peace!’ Ebenezer looked around at his scattered people and the cracked buildings.

‘I—I can fix it!’ Jarin shook his head as memories came flooding back again. His hands began to tremble, reaching for his mother’s own as if she was still there to lead him from the danger. ‘I can!’ His knees gave out beneath him and high above hidden in the clouds came Dracaena’s rumbling growl, her eyes reflected in the dark looking down at the elves who she believed was the cause of her little prince’s distress. Eitan and Ebenezer raised their hands and the shield around them strengthened. The flames inside Dracaena’s throat bubbled threatening to spew like that of a lava from a volcano.

‘I promised you, didn’t I?’ Her head lowered slowly causing the surrounding smoke and clouds around to disperse. ‘That I would see you burn.’ Eitan swallowed, faltering at her threat. Stepping back in fear of the beast his hands lowered despite himself, and the summoned shield flickered in a moment’s weakness. Behind sprang the twins’ drawing knives on the throats of Ebenezer and Eitan in a synchronized motion. They pressed their blades hard against their exposed skin being just enough to draw blood.

‘Stop,’ Jarin pleaded in attempt to fight against his own mind and body. Was he cursed to relive the wretched day for eternity? With a palm pressed against his eye, he reached out with his other hand calling Dracaena back from her attack. Then he turned to the twins, clenching his eyes tight in hopes they would listen. To his surprise they did, lowering their blades just enough for Ebenezer and Eitan to dislodge themselves. The twins jumped away and circled ‘round to stand at Jarin’s side.

‘This is what you choose then?’ Ebenezer spat. ‘Iscariot!’ He rushed forward with a hand held out before him.

‘Aharonah!’ Eitan called after him too late to stop the exchange. A blinding light came bolting out of the palm of Ebenezer’s hand shooting directly towards the two. The girl was quick to counter as she ducked beneath his magical blow hitting his arm with the back of her palm. His magic barely grazing the top of the boy’s head as he swept in to deliver his own attack. Their fierce teamwork allowed for him to hit Ebenezer directly in the stomach; a dark beam shot directly through his back. Dracaena had luckily shielded Jarin from the magic with the tip of her tail. It instantly fizzled out upon touching her scales. Everything seemed to go still as Jarin watched Eitan run to Ebenezer. He dropped to his knees in time to catch him, and with him cradled in his arms he glared at twins who stood over him.

‘Wait!’ Jarin shouted. The twins turned upon hearing the call of his voice, both lowering their arms at his command.

‘Time to go, little prince,’ Dracaena growled. She feared she remained in her true form too long, disturbing all those with senses strong enough to feel her. She lowered her head enough for Jarin to climb atop her back.

‘Come with us,’ Jarin held a welcoming hand.

‘Jarin,’ Dracaena warned. She stopped them in their tracks with just a look. As if trying to impel his will upon the dragon he pressed the palm of his hand into her scale wishing with all his might that she not fight him in that moment; that she might wholly align herself with all that he believed and all that he wanted.

‘Mother,’ he begged. Her great head was cast into the sky falling back to the mountain with a great crash causing the earth below to quake as if submitting. Again, Jarin held out his hand to the twins with great urgency. They spent little time dallying.

‘Fly, Dracaena!’ Jarin called. They held tight to her as she lifted off the ground with ease. Sharp winds picked up about them, sending Eitan and the fallen Ebenezer tumbling away. Her thunderous wings beat as they shot off over the mountains and into the abandoned ash lands of Imivere.

Ah, my dear. The closer we come to the end the closer I feel to tears. Years of retelling the tale of our dearest princes and that dragon… There is just such a finality, now, that I tell the tale for the hundredth time to you-- a strangely foreign yet familiar face. I’ve had nothing to tether me to the present, and so I always drift back to the past. Jarin is the same, don’t you see? But he was blind, for the brother he left behind was his salvation from the shadows slowly consuming his once innocent heart. Perhaps, though, I would run to the shadows, too, had it my father’s face and my mother’s voice. If the past if comfort, be the future hope?

 

16: Konelar

It is an inevitability in life to, at some degree, at some time, feel utterly alone. We trudge through the toils of everyday life as its monotonous gray hues dull our senses. We tuck away the aspirations we dreamt of one by one until it is forgotten altogether. Our dreams, as well as people disappear. Have you been alone this entire time, dear traveller? What heartaches have you endured, dear one, that you come to my doorstep wearing such a sullen face only to ask to hear this tale.

I can tell you truly, Thea could see such suffering in everyone she loved at some point in time. Sir Borin, Merrick, her husband Oliver, Dracaena and Jarin. She held her cloak close to her seeing traces of such pain behind the ever-present mask Jimena wore. She had a rare moment with Amine not two nights prior, catching him on her way back home with her husband in the near-empty courtyard. They strode past one another atop their horses and stopped in greeting. Amine had been doing his due diligence gathering as much information as he could in the rising threat of Konelar’s whispered invasion. Elves that took to starting their own lives in the country had been reported missing, foul play was suspected with sympathisers to Konelar’s sentiments if not Konelar themselves.

‘What a terrible thing,’ Sir Oliver shook his head in disgust of the news.

‘Truly,’ agreed Thea looking down to the floor in disappointment at how cruel people could be. There was no room for such barbarism in Yorthas.

‘It is what we’d always feared would happen since finding a home outside our forest.’ Amine rubbed the back of his neck looking warn. No doubt the threat of his people kept him up at night as it did Jimena. ‘I shan’t hold you up anymore, I’m sure you’re both eager to return home.’ Amine picked up his horse’s reigns. Thea fumbled over her words not knowing when she’d find him apart from Jimena again.

‘Might I ask… if only you’re comfortable in answering...’ She glanced back to her husband who nodded in support. Sir Oliver had been of great comfort to Thea during everything, listening to her cry about how worried she was for her friends. He knew her heart and its desires; she wanted to save those she loved to any end.

‘I’ll answer to the best of my ability,’ Amine replied cautiously. No doubt he could sense there would be some weight to her question.

‘I worry for Merrick, but I know him. He overcomes everything life throws at him. That is his nature ever since we were young… But Jimena-- I love her as if my own sister though she is more difficult to discern.’ She struggled to find the words. For a moment she felt Amine would ride off without uttering a word, instead he lowered the reigns of his horse and looked about the courtyard.

‘I only answer because I know your love for the atarah,’ he spoke at last. ‘I remember back in the woodlands when she was just a girl. I was never able to work as closely with her or her father, but to my knowledge she has always been this way. To be atarah is to be a shepherd. If she falters; shows any sign of weakness it won’t only affect her. She carries the weight of a people on her shoulders, as does Merrick; any sovereign.’ Thea knew it was a duty she would never understand. Amine brought his voice low. ‘I may not know the atarah well enough to answer your question as personally as you’d have liked, but I can tell you she values your presence. Now more than ever.’ Thea thanked Amine, and she and her husband bade him goodnight.

The time came for Thea, Jimena, and Amine to set-out on their journey to Konelar. Borin and Sir Oliver were told of their endeavours, both promising to keep things under control in their absence, and to keep an eye out for Merrick. Though Sir Oliver had tried his best to convince Thea not to go knowing the danger that laid ahead. He could not risk his wife or his child. He was promised she was well looked after, and Thea knew he understood that the matter wasn’t up for debate. Jimena slipped a note under Merrick’s chamber door right before they departed. Thea had no idea of the contents written, and she did not question it. She hoped whatever words were written brought peace for both the writer and the reader. They gathered around the campfire at the border of the forest well away from the main road. The sky above was a murky gray prompting Amine to comment that winter approached.

‘The mountains are already covered,’ he pointed to Caelo Tactus.

‘Yes,’ the sides of Jimena’s mouth curled down in displeasure.

‘Do you dislike the snow?’ Thea asked as she stoked the fire.

‘I like it just fine,’ she held her hands out to fire greedily stealing its warmth. ‘It’s the cold I can’t stand.’

‘It has been plenty cold. Here.’ Amine passed out their packed blankets. Thea thanked him laying it beside her, standing to stretch her aching back. Every day her child grew; every day it felt heavier to bear. There seemed so much wrong in the world, and her thoughts were drawn back to when she shared her news with Silver who seemed to harbour those very thoughts well before her.

‘Have you thought of names for your child?’ Jimena smiled. There was a softness to her when she glanced at her swelling belly. Thea shook her head.

‘I feel the right one will come when I meet them. Though Oliver is fond of the name Edwin if it’s a boy, after his father of course. But I’d like them to be their own person.’

‘I value that sentiment,’ Amine nodded in favour of her decision. They sat around the fire chatting for a good portion of the night until Amine pointed towards a small silver light peeking from the tree line. Thea stood happily calling but the pixie did not come, hesitantly ducking further into the trees stopping as if fighting the instinct to flee. Thea excused herself understanding that it would take some coaxing for Silver to trust her friends. She at last reached the trees with an outstretched hand.

‘It’s me, Thea.’ Silver eyed her hand warily glancing back to the campfire. It shook its head and pressed itself into the bark of the protective tree. Thea knelt on the floor. ‘They’re my friends, as I am yours.’ The pixie lowered its gaze a moment as if in thought, then threw its glance up to the muddied skies. Silver’s tiny arms were brought up over its head as if recalling a memory from so long ago. It drew a circle in the sky. Thea laughed in memory when Silver first came to her. ‘We met under the moon, didn’t we?’ Silver smiled fluttering over to embrace her mid as if greeting the baby. ‘I need your help, old friend.’ Thea spoke earnestly explaining the gravity of their situation; her need to help her friends and the people suffering. Silver withdrew as if everything in its small body screamed at it to not place itself in the affairs of the mortal world, and Thea knew this was a big ask; that this did not concern Silver in the slightest. She hoped and promised that she would find a way to return the favour some day. At last, the pixie nodded perching itself on Thea’s shoulder. The two returned to an eager Amine and Jimena whose eyes were fixated upon the pixie. With some encouraging words Thea was able to get Silver to fly up in greeting to the two.

‘Long have I felt their presence in the woodlands,’ Amine smiled. ‘Never could I have hoped to meet one such as you, little one.’

‘Yes,’ Jimena sounded almost overwhelmed. ‘Even with my sight…’

‘I don’t understand,’ Thea cupped her hands to allow Silver to sit in her palms.

‘It is a rare thing for them to reveal themselves. Rarer still to call one friend.’ Jimena explained, a renewed adoration for Thea seemed to burn in her eyes. She pondered her meaning a moment, before returning to the task at hand. The sooner they dealt with Konelar the sooner they could return home. They put out the fire and packed their things leaving little trace of their presence behind. They all gathered around the pixie who hovered above their heads raining its dust upon them. Soon their vision was clouded with nothing but silver. Thea shut her eyes tight, letting out a small shaky breath feeling the ground beneath her shift. From the biting cold came an overbearing humidity, and she was scarce to breathe. Her eyes opened and as far as the eye could see was nothing but sand, just peeking over the horizon was the sunrise.

‘Konelar.’ Amine announced with little enthusiasm. ‘How anyone could call this home is beyond me.’

‘We must respect this land as we do any,’ Jimena chided. Amine bowed his head respectfully.

‘Thank you, Silver,’ Thea whispered. The pixie, looking slightly worn, grinned as if pleased with itself.

‘You have our gratitude,’ Jimena agreed pausing a moment to regard Silver with fondness. ‘We shan’t forget it. We should be setting out.’

‘Will you be okay, Silver?’ Thea asked worriedly. Silver nodded grabbing at her sleeve when she turned to walk off with her companions. As if conjured from nothing, Silver extended a seed too large to hold. It was half Silver’s height and double its girth. It was round and layered, its splotched colour transitioned from green to brown. ‘What’s this?’ Silver dropped the seed into the palm of her hand. ‘A gift?’ Again, Silver nodded.

‘Thea!’ Amine called from ahead. She glanced back to see her companions already a good pace away. When she turned to bid Silver farewell, she found the pixie had gone. She held the seed in the fist of her hand and brought it close to her chest mouthing a thank you to the air in hopes Silver would hear it. Thea caught up to her friends in little to no time, already finding herself drenched in sweat.

‘How long until we reach the city?’ She huffed with each step, struggling to find even footing in the shifting sands below. Noticing her companions had removed their fur-lined cloaks Thea elected to do the same.

‘I’m assuming a couple of hours if we keep pace.’ Jimena sounded breathless herself.

‘You’re assuming?’ Thea asked perplexed more at the thought of walking in the already scorching heat. Barely a living thing was in sight though Thea could scarcely see that far. The further she looked the more distorted the horizon became.  

‘My sight is relegated to the forest. These are not our lands.’ The rest of the trip was traversed in relative silence all reserved their focus on the journey at hand. There were many times Thea wanted to ask for a break; to sit and drink water and catch her breath, only selfishly allowing herself to ask a couple of times. She felt awful for she knew Jimena was eager to conclude their affairs in that foreign land. Thea was, too.  At last, they could see the walled off city in the distance. Its image danced in the rays of the sun, and for a moment Thea wondered if she was only imagining those towering monoliths leading to the gates. The sandy dunes beneath solidified into a sturdy sandstone with frescoes of old legends written in ancient Konelar hieroglyphs. Once upon a time the colours of those stories were vibrant, worn only by time as all things. Travellers of all kinds waited at the closed city gates vetted by the situated guards.

‘How do we proceed?’ Amine asked warily as they placed themselves in the ever-expanding queue.

‘There’s no reason to lie,’ Jimena spoke confidently. ‘We identify ourselves, and we meet their king.’ After a brutally long wait in the scorching sun they were the next in line. Thea anxiously shifted from one foot to another. Those in front were grilled relentlessly of their business in Konelar.

‘State your business,’ said the guards. ‘How long do you plan to stay? What wears have you brought? Do you have family in the city?’ The tired merchant was old, barely capable of holding the reigns of his horse-drawn wagon. Tattered clothes hung heavily from his thin frame, and a thick skullcap nested atop his head. His voice came out in barely a whisper. His entire body seemed to shake as they began searching the contents of his wagon. His wares were poked and prodded, and as if erupting from nowhere came a man hidden in a chest covered in sheets. Thea could barely catch a good glimpse of him as everything happened so fast noting only the skullcap he wore matching the merchant’s. He bolted passed the guards who shouted after him, pushing passed Thea and Amine. He glanced briefly at them before stopping in his tracks to look back. His eyes widened in recognition when his eyes rested upon Jimena. Before he could do anything else the pursuing guards tackled him to the ground. They wrestled to gain control of his flailing limbs as he cried out in pain. Finally, they were able to draw his arms behind his back, shoving his face into the sandstone floor. The force of the movement was so fierce the cap on his head ripped off revealing the sharp ears he shared with Thea’s companions. He looked up to Jimena with tears in his eyes.

‘Atarah!’ He cried. Everything that followed came in a blur. The three were promptly arrested alongside the merchant who was also revealed to be an elf, and the fleeing man. All were thrown into a cell beneath the city bastion awaiting news of their decided fates. Their only comfort being the coolness of the underground. Jimena, obviously displeased by the turn of events, still found the patience to comfort their new companions who knelt at her side weeping into her skirts. She stroked their heads as if their mother and hushed them.

‘Forgive me, atarah,’ cried the younger. ‘I came here in hopes of avenging this wrong. We thought we had found our home, but my sister… they took her from us.’

‘Oh,’ cried the elder. ‘I should have stopped my boy. I am weak, atarah, forgive me!’

‘I understand,’ she whispered, again wearing the mask of sovereign. Thea felt great sorrow for them she could only imagine how it affected her. Not long after did guards appear before them dragging Jimena from the cell.

‘King Rorric has named you,’ they snarled. Amine and Thea both tried to follow only to have the cell door slammed in their face. ‘Your pets are not required.’

‘That is the atarah of the Yorthasian forests. Her husband is Merrick lord protector—’ Amine began.

‘We know who she is,’ the guard spat in disgust, ‘only she was summoned.’

‘I am captain of her guard, where she goes I must follow.’ His eyes were ablaze.

‘Peace, Amine. I shall return to you unharmed,’ Jimena nodded. Thea knew it was to quell his anxiety, but what of Jimena’s? She could not ignore how she clenched her arm to soothe the barely noticeable tremor. She was afraid, Thea could see. How long had that fear lived inside her? What demons plagued those she loved?

‘Please,’ Thea stepped forward. ‘Might I go, too? I know how to be invisible in the eyes of lords.’ The guards hesitated glancing down at her belly. ‘Please.’ She asked once more. Was it because Thea was human? Was it because she was with child? Thea could not say the cause of the guard’s sympathy. He unlocked the door and pulled her out.

‘Not a word.’ He warned with squinting eyes. Thea nodded to Amine, hoping he understood she meant to protect Jimena with all her might. The tight fists he had against the bars eased slightly, and he returned her nod with one his own. Jimena grabbed Thea’s hand and suddenly she could feel the extent of her anxieties, and with a squeeze she hoped Jimena knew she would always be by her side. They were taken high above to the city walls walking the battlements that lead to the rustic castle of the city. Thea could hear the people below, and yet it still seemed to be some sort of oppressive energy in the air stifling the organic liveliness of their home. Soon, they were ushered back inside; the blinding light of the desert was muted into shadow. Warm candlelight held high by sconces placed strategically across the walls led down a great corridor. A long velvety carpet ran up its floor delivering them directly into a private chamber where King Rorric and his queen sat in plush seats placed upon a stage. The king’s face was stony, and Thea could see the permanent lines of his persistent frown on either side of his mouth; equally lined forehead shimmered with sweat. His queen was much different than one would expect; a pudgy little thing who was demure in nature, seemingly tensing at their very presence. Her bright blue eyes were glued to the floor, and the fabric of her puffed gown seemed to swallow her whole.

‘King Rorric,’ Jimena led Thea forward, and as if rehearsed the two curtsied.

‘Ah,’ he replied as he dabbed the sweat away with his handkerchief. He stood and approached them until he was but a foot away, slowly circling Jimena as if to take her in entirely. ‘The elven queen of Yorthas, is it? Or rather, soon-to-be. Tell me, how long does Lord Merrick wish to wait until he accepts his crown?’ He stopped in front of her again, an unimpressed brow arched high in challenge.

‘Yorthas already accepts my husband as sovereign. But that is not the matter I came here to discuss.’

‘Your wishes are of no interest to me,’ he waved his hand dismissive of her concerns.

‘Then I’d suggest you make it an interest, King Rorric,’ Jimena raised her chin. ‘There is rising concern amongst my people—’

‘Your people? Tell me, who might they be? Elves or humans? You may trick that naïve little boy, Merrick, but you won’t fool me. Elves and humans do not belong side-by-side. There is a place for everything, and yours is not by a human lord.’

‘You may speak of me in whatever manner you wish,’ Jimena kept her voice even. Though Thea was still taken aback by the venom behind her words. ‘But you will never speak of my husband that way again.’ For a moment King Rorric seemed to consider her words as the room fell silent, and it felt an eternity that any measure of sound returned. His heavy steps echoed as he made his way back to his chair, turning on his heels sharply to sit.

‘Elven harpy,’ he scowled. ‘You come before me, and dare speak to me in a such way?’ Thea could do nothing but shrink back in fear of him, placing her hands on her belly for comfort she felt the tears in her eyes well. ‘Tell me you did not come here seeking favours from me. You should be grovelling at my feet, churl.’

‘Peace, Thea.’ Jimena grabbed her hand just as her knees began to knock together. She smiled to her companion in reassurance, making Thea feel a little girl well out of her depth. Jimena turned her attention back to King Rorric who was no doubt satisfied in being able to intimidate someone.

‘The fact of the matter is Yorthas is weak under Liam’s son. No doubt he’s too focused on that cumberground brother of his… Nonetheless, Yorthas is open to me, and I mean to take it.’

‘Can nothing change your mind?’ Jimena asked.

‘Nothing.’ Rorric laughed. ‘Your trip here was fortuitus only for me. No doubt Merrick will do anything to get you back.’

‘And you?’ Jimena looked to his silent queen who instantly seized under her gentle gaze.

‘I…’ she squeaked, looking in fear to her husband who was none to pleased. ‘The will of the king is the will of all.’ She said at last. Jimena shook her head taking a step forward, and in a rare moment Thea watched as she used her power. To an outsider it would appear as if the queen broke out into hysterics, jumping up in fear as her eyes widened out of nowhere. She fell to her knees grasping at her head as she screamed. The guards rushed to her side watching as she fell into a fit. King Rorric stood in a frenzy, plucking one of his men from the floor and pushing him to the door.

‘Get the physician!’ He ordered, turning back to his queen. Thea knew all too well the cause of the queen’s ailment, though she never experienced it herself she was told of this magic by Jimena and Merrick both. Having the power to see into someone’s mind; know their darkest thoughts and highest hopes. She could know anyone in a matter of seconds. Thea had once asked why she hadn’t used her sight on her when they met. Jimena looked up bashfully confessing she wanted to know Thea through her own words as she had come to know Merrick. Knowing Jimena could uncover everything about her whenever she pleased yet chose not to made them grow closer. The queen’s screams slowly hushed into a small whimper until her eyes regained focus. With the help of the guards, she brought herself up from the floor.

‘Queen Yarmilla?’ Asked one as she steadied herself.

‘Sit down.’ King Rorric looked his little queen up in down in disgust.

‘Forgive me,’ she whispered meekly shuffling back to her seat. Queen Yarmilla focused her attention entirely on her hands resting in her lap from then on.

‘I tire of you,’ the king waved his hand and soon Jimena and Thea were ushered out of the room. They were silent the whole way back to their cell and even then, they waited until the guards were out of earshot to speak. Amine doted on them both, shaking his head in anger when they regaled the king’s cold disregard. He had no respect for their kind, even less for Merrick. Thea took to sitting beside the old merchant who leaned on his son for support as he slept.

‘He cried the entire time,’ admitted his son. ‘I should have never talked him into my plan.’ With a sympathetic smile, Thea leaned over and placed a hand upon his knee. She could not condemn him for what he’d done, though she admitted it was foolish. What was it like to love and lose someone? Knowing the person who wronged you was still out there; would she be able to sit idly and watch them live as if nothing happened? Her thoughts drifted to Jarin. She never knew the extent of his pain, only that he lost a great deal. She slipped a protective arm around her belly, praying that she would make a home safe enough for her child.

‘What is there to do?’ Amine crossed his arms, looking up at the small window slit of the cell. The only bit of light allowed.

‘Nothing,’ Jimena whispered. A chill ran through Thea.

Sometimes the help we so long for does not come at the time we believe we need it most. It is in these moments, traveller, that I have also felt such isolation… If we cannot save ourselves, how could we hope to save the ones we love? It is this belief that made Thea and Jimena one in the same. And what of you and I, traveller, are we the same?