by Alex Alcasid
Loren breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, father—”
The King’s laugh boomed in the small space of the inn. “Thank you? For what? I’ve said they were strange, that’s all! I have not deemed them worthy to escort you all around the world! You are going straight home, Loren. This is the worst possible time for you to have run off, and I will not let you out of my sight a second time!”
The king turned away, signaling to his guards that they would mount up and leave soon. He knew that Loren would follow without question. “Your mother was stabbed! Poisoned! And you decided to run away and hide out in Rhodia? And with this situation with Doreos and the Beastmen! Humans are not exactly welcome here under Doreos’s rule. But the king is fortunately out at the moment, and some of his guards are lenient. Still, it does not give us much time. We have to return to Aldoran and to Katarina’s side immediately!”
He was almost out the door when he realized he did not hear an extra pair of boots clacking on the inn’s wooden floor. He turned, and saw that Loren had not moved. The princess was stubbornly rooted to the spot. Her knuckles were white in her clenched fists, and her expression was set in stone. She had her eyes screwed shut.
“Loren! Did you not hear a word I said, stubborn girl?” King Jorrne’s voice began to rise. “You are returning with me to Aldoran this instant!”
“No.”
The king was livid. The two companions hurriedly ran up the stairs, only peeking from the very top in relative safety. “No?” he said through gritted teeth.
“No, father.” Loren said. Her voice shook slightly. “I won’t go home with you. I can’t, not yet. I know I can fix this, father! You taught me diplomacy and war. If I can find Kaiten and restore his rightful claim to the throne, the Beastmen will be ready allies to us again. With their help, we can storm Sagna, take the antidote to the poison, and defeat the Red Sisters!”
King Jorrne was taken aback. “Defeat the Red Sisters of Sagna? Loren—“
“I want to kill them, father!” Loren suddenly shouted. Tears began to fall from behind her closed eyes. “They poisoned mother! They killed Gaturr, skinned him, and threw his pelt onto our floor like garbage! I know they are behind Kaiten’s kidnapping, and Doreos on the throne! I want them dead!” Loren looked up, her normally dark eyes flashing a glittering gold. The dragon pendant hanging from her neck swung from its chain.
“Loren!” The king said again, but his tone was more urgent. He grabbed his daughter by the shoulders with his large, gauntlet-clad hands, and knelt to her level. The king embraced the princess tightly, and Loren began to sob. The gold in her eyes dissipated as Loren threw her arms around her father’s shoulders, burying her face into his neck and letting hot tears fall onto his armor.
“I know, my child, I know. But please, listen to me.” His voice was soothing. “Return to Aldoran with me, for your mother. The Spellmaster can only do so much. If Katarina falls…” The king’s voice faltered, and he took a breath. “If she falls, you will be the Queen of Aldoran. You have to know your history, and understand the power behind it before you do. Katarina has to tell you about the dragon.”
Deep beneath the castle of Aldoran, Lind stirred from his slumber. The blue and gold of his scales caught the weak light of the setting sun, throwing glittering and dancing shapes across the cave walls. He lifted his heavy head towards the cave entrance, and gazed out to the sea that lay peacefully past the rocks and crags of the hill.
Far above him, he could hear the frantic footsteps of men and Beastman alike. The sounds only softened at night, but never fully stopped. The dragon was used to these sounds and signs of life living above, detached from his own lifestyle as time moved quickly around him. But something had changed recently. The footsteps were louder, and bore the clang of metal. The scent of steel and sword oil drifted down the passageway that led up into the halls of the castle. The guards were doubling, Lind knew. Soldiers were amassing, the army was being organized. Lind rumbled, long and loud, and the sound echoed in his cavern. The last time this much activity happened in the castle, the dragon himself was summoned to act as a tool for war. Lind lay his head back down, and curled his long tail around his body. His strong wings draped over his scaled back, and his shining golden eyes slowly closed.
The one who had the power to command him was but a child. He knew she was young still, naïve and innocent. Lind had no need to be concerned.
The ride back to Aldoran was swift, far too swift for Loren’s liking. She was loaded onto a carriage with her pack thrown by her feet. Half a dozen armed guards bearing the colors of Aldoran surrounded her carriage to ensure that the princess would reach home safely. Her friends had been left behind in Rhodia as the convoy sped off without them. Loren didn’t know if they would follow her all the way back, or give up on her and her fool’s errand and part ways.
Loren sighed as she sat in the carriage, swaying slightly with every bump in the road as the cart’s wooden wheels rolled on. Loren thought of Cassendir the scholar. There must have been so much added knowledge in his books already, he could sail back to Kespia and share his findings among the other learned men. He would become popular there she imagined, as Kespia was infamous for rejecting outsiders of all kinds. Knowledge and information of the outside world was craved, yet so few people were willing to leave their familiar sands.
Perhaps Kae and Ma’trii would cut their losses and take what they could before returning to Kilrough Forest. That was their home after all, they had a life and routine among the trees. If it wasn’t for Loren’s insistence, the two would never have left the familiar scenery. They wouldn’t have had to risk their lives chasing after a prince they never knew nor cared about, and wouldn’t dare set foot in the Plaguelands of their own accord. Kae wouldn’t risk her life. And for who? Loren?
Loren felt a pang in her chest as she thought of Kae, the strong and steadfast hunter that she was, the brash and willful girl that she knew, turning her back on her. With every step Kae took to walk away from Loren in her mind’s eye, Loren felt hot tears forming in her eyes. She didn’t understand. They had only known each other for a short while, but the thought of Kae suddenly absent in her life was painful.
The princess’s eyes flashed open as she felt the rhythmic movement of the carriage stop. When she lifted her head, she saw the familiar portcullis of Markholme, being raised into the gate with difficulty.
Loren sat bolt upright on the hard bench of the carriage. They passed under the raised portcullis, and she saw guards begin the long process of unwinding the winch to lower it again. She had fallen asleep on the journey and had missed any opportunities to escape completely. Whether the princess had fallen asleep from the emotional or physical fatigue, she couldn’t say.
The carriage was pulled more slowly up the cobblestone avenue towards the castle. Men and women, human and Beastman alike stopped their activities and gawked at the envoy as they rode past. Loren hung her head, trying to keep her face hidden from view, but she knew it was a wasted effort. Everyone in Markholme knew what the crown princess of Aldoran looked like.
Shame burned in Loren’s chest and on her face in a furious blush. Her parents must have organized a massive search for her when they found her missing from her room. It felt like ages had passed since she left Markholme with Kae and Ma’trii. Loren chanced a glance at the people watching her, and was met with concerned and disappointed stares. Whispers drifted from the crowd, just loud enough for Loren to hear.
“Why did she leave?”
“Foolish girl, Sagna near declares war and she decides now is the time to run away from home?”
“Isn’t she the heir to the throne? If her mother dies and she is no-where to be found, what will become of Aldoran?”
“Has she no heart? Her own mother lays dying…”
The townspeople believe Loren had shirked her duties, and had run away on a foolish whim. No one would believe that she attempted to set off on her own quest to bring those same people who dared at
tack her family and friends to their knees. These people would never understand what Loren aimed to do for her family, for her kingdom, for her friends, and for herself. A different feeling began to burn under the shame. It roared to life suddenly, washing over any sense of vulnerability and weakness the princess felt only seconds before.
Loren stood straighter, prouder, on the bench of the carriage. She felt a sense of righteousness well up deep in her chest. She knew that what she was doing was what was needed. Her plan was right and just. Those who dared lay a hand on her family, to dare challenge the might of Aldoran, would be swiftly found and put to the sword. This being summoned back to her home was merely a setback, a diversion. She would so easily escape the castle and the city, and return to her quest. Why should she be stopped? Her purpose was true and noble. She was unstoppable.
Loren’s eyes shone gold in the sunlight as the carriage rode through the gates of the castle.
The carriage finally stopped, and two of the guards that rode by the carriage opened it and helped Loren out. They bowed to the princess and moved away to return to the barracks and have a well-earned rest. The king himself went to retrieve his daughter, but he took one look at her and turned to his men.
“Get the Spellmaster! Immediately!” he roared. A servant jumped, startled by the urgency in the king’s voice, and ran into the castle. King Jorrne grabbed Loren by the arm and hurried her inside. She opened her mouth to protest, but the king would not hear a word of it.
The King’s grip on Loren’s arm was relentless. In the back of her mind, she felt that her father’s grip was bruising her skin. It was painful as the king roughly guided her down the hall, pulling and yanking on her upper arm as he did. But she knew that, while there was anger there, the king was acting out of worry and urgency. But another part of her mind screamed with protest and pride. How dare he manhandle her like this? Her? She was the daughter of dragons, and so was far above this. Tentatively, she tried to pull her arm back. King Jorrne only yanked her along harder.
King Jorrne all but kicked open the door to his wife’s chambers. A female attendant that was sitting on a stool by the queen’s bedside snapped to attention, startled by the sudden noise. She rose in anger and insult, expecting the intruder to be an uppity servant boy, but she quickly gulped and sat back down, meek and embarrassed, when she saw that it was the king of Aldoran and her daughter.
Queen Katarina was hidden behind the heavy curtains of a four-poster bed. Her private chambers weren’t used nearly as much after her marriage to the king and her moving to the shared royal chambers, and so were still decorated with the trappings and treasures from her youth. Mounted elk skulls grinned eerily from the lacquered wooden diamonds that they rested upon. The pelt of a large wild bear was laid out on the floor, its mouth propped open in a permanent snarl. The queen was an expert archer, and various old bows were hung on the wall, along with the quiver that she had paired with them in use. There were small recurve bows, carved and notched by the unsteady hands of a young girl, and larger bows with tighter strings that have seen heavy use in the queen’s adult years. Queen Katarina was not a trapper at least, and didn’t leave any traps scattered about the room to ensnare servants in her rebellious days. She preferred to stalk her quarries and stand motionless in the woods to listen for even the tiniest of noises. Kae reminded Loren of her mother, and of the stories Queen Katarina would tell of her hunts. Perhaps that was why the princess felt so at ease with the strange huntress and her wolf.
When King Jorrne saw the drawn curtains over the queen’s bed, he fell silent. He let go of Loren’s arm, and looked as if all the fight had gone out of him. A servant closed the door behind them as silently as he could, and the king took his first tentative steps towards the queen’s bed.
“Is she?” he asked the attendant softly. To his immense relief, the attendant shook her head. She leaned towards the heavy curtain and spoke softly through the fabric. The curtain began to shift slightly, belying movement behind it.
Queen Katarina pulled the curtain back. “Jorrne?” she asked with a voice as thin as paper. The queen was deathly pale, her skin translucent enough to see the purple veins underneath, racing across her skin. She had sat up in her bed and moved back the curtain with some difficulty, but while her body was weak, her mind wasn’t. Her gaze on the king was like knives. “What happened?”
“I found our daughter.” The king said, gesturing at Loren to approach the bed. He smiled and sad by the side of Katarina’s bed, still clad in his armor and riding boots. The queen made an impatient noise and lightly pushed at Jorrne’s knee; a sign for him to remove his dusty legs from her clean linens. “She was hiding in an inn in Rhodia with a couple of vagrants.”
“They weren’t vagrants!” Loren said in protest. As she stepped closer to her mother, the gold in her eyes were more apparent in the light. “They are my friends, and father left them in Rhodia. Humans, in the Beastman city! While it’s under Doreos’s rule, and humans are unwelcome! Father, you really should have taken them with us!”
Instead of losing his patience at the princess’s hotheaded words, the king looked to his wife with a helpless, pleading expression. Katarina saw his face in the corner of her vision, as she was more focused on Loren. She gazed into Loren’s unnaturally golden eyes even as the princess glared back. Loren had always been a respectful, kind child. This prideful and somewhat arrogant air didn’t quite suit her.
Katarina held out her hand to Loren. “Your dragon amulet, Loren. Give it to me.”
Loren’s eyes narrowed, her pupils slowly shifting into reptilian slits. “The dragon amulet is mine.”
The queen sighed. She held her hand out to Jorrne who helped her swing her legs to the side, letting them dangle off the bed. She was still too weak to stand, but she could wave her daughter to come closer. “You’ve become very protective of that amulet. Why is that?” Queen Katarina asked, her calmness startling the king.
Loren lightly touched the amulet with the tips of her fingers. “It’s mine, I’m meant to have it as the heir of Aldoran.”
The queen nodded. “That is true. But the true duty of the bearer of that amulet isn’t simply to keep it. You may be the heir to the throne, Loren, but you have no idea what that amulet does, do you?”
The princess began to doubt herself. A crease formed in her brow as she thought, and her hand fell to her side. “The dragon amulet is given to the next ruler of Aldoran, a symbol of strength and honor, that time honored traditions would be carried on by the next generation and that the might of the kingdom will not falter.” She said stiffly, as if reciting a passage from the book.
“That is all true Loren, but that is not the whole purpose of the amulet. It is about time I tell you.” The queen smiled patiently, and held her hand out again. This time, Loren reached around her own neck and unclasped the necklace, and pressed the amulet into her mother’s palm. Her eyes cleared and returned to their normal hue, and the princess was left with a vague feeling of sheepishness.
The moment the silver dragon amulet — delicately formed into a dragon with outstretched wings and inlaid with dazzling blue gemstones by smiths in the time of Ylfair the Dragonheart — touched Katarina’s skin, her own eyes changed. They became the golden, shining eyes that Loren had only moments ago. The princess gasped in alarm, but was enraptured by the beauty of her mother’s eyes. The king tentatively reached a hand to touch the pendant, but Katarina moved it out of his reach with a huff.
“Mother?” Loren asked, fear and concern in her voice.
Queen Katarina smiled kindly. “Don’t be alarmed. This is the true power of this pendant. It is not simply a trinket or an heirloom. It grants magic to our bloodline, those who are the children of dragons, descendants of Ylfair the Dragonheart. You may have felt its magic already, but under what circumstances, I don’t know. But the main purpose of this amulet being in our possession…” the queen trailed off.
Loren was about to ask a question, to prompt her mother
into continuing, when she heard a loud rumbling from beyond the windows. Queen Katarina smiled, and Loren rushed around the four-poster bed and threw open the windows. She saw Lind, the great dragon, flying through the sky. Watching Lind fly always filled Loren with a sense of awe. As she watched, the blue and gold dragon flew closer to the open windows of the queen’s chambers. The dragon approached the wall, and flapped his mighty wings to hover in the air. Loren saw the dragon’s shining golden eyes immediately. “Mother!” she called back over her shoulder, the realization dawning on her.
“Yes, Loren. We alone can speak to him, call him, even command him if need be. Now come away from the window and let him hunt. You can visit Lind below the castle later.” The queen said with a smile. Her eyes, still gold from the amulet’s magic, were weary with fatigue.
Loren eagerly returned to her mother’s side, eyes full of wonder and a stream of questions pouring from her mouth. The king smiled and stood, opting to stand a distance away from the girls and letting them talk. The princess was animated in her curiosity, gesturing and speaking a mile a minute. The queen met all of her daughter’s inquiries with a patient smile and gentle laugh. Queen Katarina looped the amulet back around Loren’s neck, the silver dragon’s magic laying dormant again, if only for a little while.
King Jorrne excused himself from the queen’s chambers while the mother and daughter were catching up. It was wonderful to see his family back as it was: happy and together. But he had other matters to attend to. With an authoritative nod to the queen’s attendant, the king strode off down the hallways of the castle, steel armor ringing with every step.
The War Room was cleaner than it was usually kept. The parchment and scrolls that usually littered the large wooden table had been cleared, and the ink stains from dozens of pots had been scrubbed out of the wood. There was no one seated around the large table that bore the map of the kingdoms carved into its surface. King Jorrne trailed his fingertips on the lacquered surface of the table as he approached it and took his seat at the head of the table. There, carved in the western part of the map, were the hills and plains of Aldoran. The map was bisected roughly in the middle by the jagged lines that denoted mountains. The Kilrough Mountain Range stretched from the southern coast and ended just before the barren, frozen north. King Jorrne tapped an area that denoted plains and the city of Rhodia on the map. It wasn’t very far from the mountain range. Loren had gotten quite a distance away from Aldoran, away from home, before she was found. The king didn’t want to know what would have happened if the foolhardy princess hadn’t been surprised in a dingy inn.