The Girl Who Walked Through Fire

by Dana Gricken

  The girl was unusual, and Elara was sure she hadn’t seen anyone like her in the Wards. She had jet black hair, with thick bangs that covered the top of her violet eyes. Her dark lipstick matched her hair color and contrasted against her ivory skin. The hooded robe she wore did its best to hide her clothing, but Elara could still see her spiked boots and a purple crystal around her neck. She clutched a long wooden staff in her right hand, which held an orb at the top and was the same color as the crystal.

  “Look at what we have here, gentlemen. A trespasser,” The Knight closest to the girl said, shaking his head in disapproval.

  “Why don’t you bother someone else for a change?” The girl screeched at the Knight while rolling her eyes, and Elara determined it was her who had yelled before.

  “Not so fast. I’m Senior Knight Adam Cormac. My Knights and I have been given official orders from the King to stop your kind from entering our world. Now, why have you left the Mystic Veil?” The Knight asked, with more venom in his voice than before.

  “It’s none of your business!” The girl replied as she tried to dart around the Knight, but he roughly grabbed her arm and held her in place.

  “Hands off the goods, you Voth’il!” The girl bellowed, using the foulest insult she could think of.

  “We know what that means, you curse bringer,” The Senior Knight spat, as he tightened his hold on the girl.

  “I’m warning you!” The girl shrieked, as she struggled to release herself from the Knight’s grip.

  “Or what? You have no power here, witch. No one will be coming to save you in the real world,” His words only taunted her, causing more fury to appear in her eyes.

  As the other Knights approached her, the girl raised her right arm which held her staff and thrust it into the ground. With a mighty roar from the Earth and a flash of kaleidoscope-colored dust, the eight Knights quickly went flying backward, thudding loudly onto the ground. Elara had never seen such a powerful use of magic. It was almost mesmerizing.

  Before the girl had a chance to run, the Senior Knight quickly recovered and reached for her staff. He violently grabbed it from the clutches of her hand and chucked it to the ground. Drawing his sword, he held it at her throat. The other Knights groaned and struggled to stand, still dazed from the fall.

  Fear glossed over the girl’s eyes, as she glanced from the sword to the Knight and back again.

  “Please...” She croaked out, and it was barely a whisper in the loud drum of the rain.

  “A foul witch begging for her wicked life? Your kind doesn’t know the meaning of mercy,” The Knight replied, chuckling. “You should’ve thought about that before you attacked my Knights. I’ll enjoy ridding your evil from our world.”

  Before the Knight could make a move, Elara burst out from the bush she was hidden behind. So much for staying on their good side, she thought.

  “Stop!” Elara wailed, which caused the Senior Knight in front of the girl to cock his head backward.

  The girl saw the opportunity and wasted no time. She quickly picked up her staff and disappeared instantly beyond the magical fog. The Knight turned back to realize the girl had fled and pointed his sword towards Elara as his face scrunched in anger. He was much older than Elara, perhaps in his mid-thirties, with a scruffy beard and dark features – and he certainly wasn’t as friendly as David.

  “Who are you?” The Senior Knight asked loudly, as the other Knights grabbed Elara’s arms tightly.

  “I’m Elara Everly. I live in Haven,” She replied, quickly.

  The Knight came closer and scoffed. “Haven? That dirty city in the trash pile we call the Wards? That’s awfully far from here. Tell me this – what’s a poor farm girl such as yourself doing out here?”

  Elara kept silent.

  “Are you one of those no good witch lovers we’ve heard so much about? Or do you prefer those fire-sucking dragons? There’s a special place in the fiery pits of hell for those who help the wicked.”

  There sure is, Elara thought to herself. And you’ll be one of the first to find out.

  Still, Elara didn’t answer. She was too afraid.

  “Answer me!”

  The sudden yell of the Knight caused Elara’s body to lurch in fear. She struggled and jerked her body around, aching to break free. The abrasiveness caused one of the Knights to accidentally rip the left sleeve off of Elara’s shirt, exposing the birthmark on her arm in the scuffle. The group of Knights gasped around her. Elara swore she even saw some of their faces turn completely white.

  “Is that...?” One of the Knights began to ask, before abruptly stopping midsentence. It was almost as if he was too afraid to know the answer.

  The Senior Knight in front of her scoffed and shook his head disapprovingly. “Her? No. It can’t be,” He replied, forcibly grabbing her arm to inspect the marking.

  He reached into her pockets, searching for any weapons or clues. He retrieved the locket her Dad had given her earlier for protection.

  Thanks a lot for that, Dad, she thought to herself.

  The Knight examined the front of the locket for a moment, before opening it and reading the engraving.

  “It is her!” The Knight hollered as he placed his sword back at her throat.

  Elara winced as the sword’s sharp metal touched her skin, while her heartbeat increased rapidly. Fear had completely paralyzed her vocal cords, and she was unable to question them. She doubted she could reason with the Knights, anyway. Murmurs broke out among the group in a state of confusion and paranoia.

  “May the Creator have mercy!” A Knight exclaimed, clasping his hands together in a silent prayer.

  “What will we do with her?” One of the Knights asked.

  “I say we kill her right here and let the Creator deal with her!” Another Knight said.

  The Senior Knight in front of her remained still and calm among the panic with his sword still pressed to Elara’s throat. He contemplated their remarks for a moment before shaking his head.

  “No,” He replied, lowering his sword.

  Elara sucked in a breath of relief.

  “The King will want to see the Dragonwitch for himself.”

  There must be a mistake. I’m not the Dragonwitch! Elara wanted to say, but her voice wouldn’t budge. Instead, it echoed loudly in her mind.

  Before Elara could utter a word, she felt a painful blow to her head as the Knight hit her with the handle of his sword. She stumbled to the ground and felt herself being dragged in the opposite direction before the familiar darkness of sleep engulfed her completely.

  The Trial

  Elara woke up with a painful thumping in her head, sprawled out on the cool stone floor of a small cell. Sunlight shone through a small nearby window, indicating it was now daytime. As she moved her arms, she noticed the metallic chains around them, tied to the floor. Luckily, there was still enough space between the chains and the floor for her to move around.

  “Well, I’ve seen better mornings,” She muttered to herself. “Where am I?”

  Rubbing her temples, she sat up and groaned. She took in her surroundings, wincing at what she saw. The room was cold, grey, and murky, with black steel bars preventing her escape, confirming that she was a prisoner. There wasn’t even a bed to rest on. Worst of all, the cell had a pungent smell she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Garbage? Blackwings? Death? Maybe it was all of the above.

  Everything that had happened came flooding back to her quickly like crashing waves, causing her mind to wander. What happened to the witch girl she had seen? And what did the Knights want from her? Who or what is the Dragonwitch? Was her Dad worrying about her? Of course he was – he had to be. The sun had set and rose again since she was last in Haven. He had to have wondered where she was. She hoped he’d find her in time before matters got worse. If their treatment of witches and dragons were any indication, Elara’s confrontation with the Knights was not going to be any better.

  Off in the distance, she heard faint voices. Stand
ing up, she leaned on the wall to hear as best as she could.

  “Is it really her?” A voice asked, unseen.

  “I think so,” She heard another voice reply.

  There was silence for a few moments. Elara could sense their fear.

  “What do you think they’ll do to her?”

  “I have no idea. The Grey Knights have waited for this for a long time.”

  They immediately hushed as Elara heard loud footsteps approaching in her direction.

  “King Angus!” One of the voices from before said, and Elara could hear the nervousness in it.

  “Where is she?” The King’s voice demanded, and it was stern and gruff.

  “In a cell, at the end of the hall,” Another shaky voice replied.

  The clunk of the footsteps continued, this time approaching closer and closer with each step. Appearing from the darkness into the light, King Angus Blackmore’s menacing brown eyes met Elara’s soft ones.

  The King had dirty blond hair that was covered by a golden crown, adorned with a plethora of jewels and gems and a fine-trimmed beard. He must’ve been in his forties, Elara thought, based on the wrinkles near his eyes and thin mouth. He wore a black jacket made of silk with matching trousers. A red, flowing cape was draped loosely around his neck, and he wore brown, leather boots with silver straps. Elara had heard time after time how much of a tyrant the King was. She’d soon learn if the rumors were true or not.

  In his company, there were two young men around Elara’s age with blond hair and apparel similar to the King’s. They looked like his sons. David stood at attention beside the King, and his eyes widened in shock once he realized it was Elara behind the bars. He kept silent but couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

  “So,” The King began, eyeing Elara, “You’re the one we’ve been waiting for. You aren’t exactly what I thought you’d be. To be frank, I’m a little disappointed.”

  “There must be a mistake,” Elara pleaded, sincerely. “I’m not whoever you think I am. I’m just a girl from the Wards.”

  “I think she’s right, my Lord,” David interjected.

  “No,” The King replied, shaking his head. “She is the Dragonwitch.”

  “I don’t even know what the Dragonwitch is!” Elara responded, clanging her chains together against the bars in anger and frustration.

  As she touched the metal bars, she flinched in pain as she felt a jolt of electricity rush through her veins. The King smiled.

  “It’s an electric cage. Not enough to kill you, but enough to keep you contained. It’s to protect criminals like you from the rest of us. However, if you’re as innocent as you claim, we’ll see soon enough and you’ll be allowed to go free. Your trial is set in exactly two hours. You’ll present yourself in front of a jury then,” The King replied, not even bothering to wait for an answer before he turned to walk away down the hall.

  David flashed an apologetic look before following the King, along with one of the young blond men who shot a devious smile at Elara. The other young blond man watched the three walk away and remained behind. Once he was certain they were gone, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a key.

  Elara’s face crinkled in confusion as he reached through the bars – careful not to touch the electric wiring - and unlocked her chains that were starting to cut off the circulation to her hands. Once freed, she gently dropped the chains to the floor and massaged her wrists.

  “I may not be able to stop your trial, but I won’t stand by while they treat someone like a chained animal,” The young man replied, stashing the key deep inside his pocket. “I’m Hadrian Blackmore. King Angus is my Dad, unfortunately. What’s your name?”

  Elara was right. This young man was the son of King Angus – and by title, a prince – although he didn’t introduce himself that way. He seemed ashamed and genuinely upset about her situation. He looked nearly identical to the King, except younger and less rough-looking, and his blond hair was slightly darker.

  He had the brightest violet eyes Elara had ever seen, similar to the girl in the forest, whereas both the King and the other young man had brown eyes. He was dressed much more casually, with a brown leather jacket and matching boots. A dagger poked through the holster that sat near the waistband of his pants, and he wore an odd-looking ring on his middle finger. He tucked a loose strand of blond hair behind his ear, nervously.

  “I’m Elara Everly,” She replied, cautiously. For all she knew, he could’ve been sent here by the King to mock her.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “Besides break me out of here?” Elara asked.

  He cracked a shy smile. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. My Dad would have both of our heads on a stick if he saw us walk out of here.”

  “I guess there’s one thing,” Elara began, shyly. “My dad, Merek, is a farmer in Haven. It’s a small neighborhood in the Wards. He’s the only family I have. I’m sure he’s worried about me by now. If it isn’t too much trouble, could you tell him where I am? It would mean a lot after everything that’s happened. He worries enough as it is.”

  “Of course. I’ll call him myself. No one will know a thing. I doubt he’ll be able to help you, though. Every Knight in the city’s been told to keep an eye on you,” Hadrian replied, before leaning in to speak quietly. “Be careful at the trial, all right? The King’s already convinced you’re guilty. Don’t give him any more of a reason to convict you.”

  As Hadrian turned to walk away, Elara gently grabbed his arm through the bars. He froze for a moment, as if fearing she would hit him. She looked down at the chains and then back at him.

  “Thank you,” She finally said, grateful for what he had done for her. If he wasn’t following orders from the King, then she worried what would happen to him when his Dad found out.

  He nodded and glanced at her hand on his arm before he placed his hand above hers in solidarity. He let go and retreated quickly back down the hall, hoping the King wouldn’t notice he was gone.

  Maybe my luck is beginning to change, Elara thought to herself. Bad luck has to run out sometime, right?

  ELARA HAD JUST MANAGED to fall asleep, curled up uncomfortably on the cold floor when the creak of the cell door jolted her awake. Startled, she sat upright, as four Knights entered the room. They helped her to her feet, wordlessly.

  “Where are you taking me?” She asked as she struggled and twisted.

  Their grip was too tight, and she gave up once she realized she was outmatched. She continued to question them as they dragged her along.

  “I demand you tell me right now!”

  Still, they remained silent; ignoring her desperate pleas. They led her down the hallway past a layer of chamber doors that opened into a large courtroom. King Angus sat on the throne in the middle of the room, elevated above everyone else. Various well-dressed men and women sat on either side in pews, watching Elara carefully. Some were Knights, while others were scholars, billionaires, and reporters eager to hear the verdict.

  Elara noticed the large television screen immediately, and she realized she was being broadcasted across the country. Now everyone would believe she was a traitor. The King wanted a spectacle; something entertaining for the crowds. It was all just a game.

  The Knights stopped Elara once she reached the podium, and she noticed that all eyes were on her. She saw David, Prince Hadrian, and his brother looking on from beside the throne in their own appointed seats. King Angus glanced at Elara’s hands with a half-smirk tugging at his lips.

  “I knew my son would unchain you,” He said unsurprised, glaring at Hadrian as his son scoffed and looked away in disgust. “Guards, restrain her.”

  “You have no shame, do you, Dad?” Hadrian sneered.

  “Quiet down, my son,” The King said sharply, and the hiss of his words echoed around the room.

  A nearby guard placed a new set of chains on Elara’s hands, and the bulkiness of the metal nearly caused her to topple over. She had to distribute h
er weight by leaning against the podium. A microphone sat in front of her, making sure every sigh and mumble was heard for the cameras.

  “Please state for the record why you’re here,” The King said, as the tension in the room lingered like a thick fog.

  “You said I was the Dragonwitch,” Elara replied, shrugging in confusion at the audience. “I say that you’re out of your mind.”

  Prince Hadrian smirked in amusement, but the King was not impressed. “Did you know that you’re half-witch, half-dragon, and half-human?”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m clearly all human, as you can see. If you come a little closer, you can find out for yourself,” Elara snarled.

  “I think I’ll keep a safe distance. Looks are deceiving,” The King replied, before looking directly at the audience. “There’s an old legend which describes a mighty creature who is equal parts witch, dragon, and human. For centuries, this creature has been depicted as pure evil. It will side with the dragons and witches, and promote their freedom – all the while working against humanity.”

  “What a load of blackwing’s crap,” Hadrian replied, rolling his eyes. “This kind of stupidity is only believed by the weak-minded. That explains why you love it so much, Dad.”

  “I told you to be quiet!” The King bellowed, slamming his fist down on the arm of his throne before glancing back at Elara. “The legend states that you’re here to destroy order, tradition, and security by leading an uprising for the dragons and witches. Because of your presence, there will be much war, death, and destruction. You will bring about the end of an era.”

  The room erupted into a series of gasps and murmurs. The camera zoomed in on Elara’s face, looking for a reaction of guilt. Elara stood there, dumbfounded at the accusations. She had no idea of what to make of all of this new information. What could she say? The King was convinced that she was some villain in a fairytale. There was no answer she could give that would satisfy the King and save her skin. She’d just have to accept her punishment and find a way out – somehow.