The Dragon Princess

by Paris Hansch

  Adelia involuntarily shivered. It wasn’t the words that struck her—it was the feeling that was emanating from her. She wanted to fall to her knees and flee at the same time, but her hands were firmly stuck on the barricade. An ethereal violet glow appeared to flow from Mina’s body, the shimmering outline not quite human, commanding attention—obedience.

  General Barrett’s mouth hung open, but he didn’t have time to retort. Mina raced toward him, and the very air itself seemed to part for her, offering no resistance. Barrett swung his sword, though somehow it was far slower than it had been, as though it was much harder for him to cut through the air. Earth connected with Mina’s feet, and her last step launched her into the air, the energy propelling her into a graceful flip. For a split second, she landed neatly on his sword, mid-swing. Her own weapon followed close behind, crashing down into his shoulder. The impact reverberated, forcing the general’s grip to loosen and the sword to fly from his hand.

  He stumbled, spinning on his heel to retrieve it. Mina rushed after him as Barrett aimed for her throat. She ducked with perfect timing, and his sword arced clear over her head. She slammed her hilt into his ribs with the momentum of her charge, and there was an audible crack as Barrett clutched his left side, faltering back. He spat blood on the ground, wiping it away with the back of his hand. With a roar, he ran at her again.

  The arena was in absolute silence, the only sound being the blunt whack of metal hitting leather. Mina wielded the heavy sword with ease, never once unsheathing the blade. She struck his sword over and over at what seemed to be the same spot on the blade. It was a relentless onslaught, like the force of a great sea crashing into land or the insatiable frenzy of a fire consuming the earth. She had an otherworldly strength that was both beautiful and terrifying.

  Adelia’s mouth was dry, and her knees were shaking. The undeniable presence of something was growing stronger as the violet hue spilled from Mina in waves. It was the same presence that she had felt from her during the ambush, only far more potent this time. She stole a glance at the people around her, but all she could feel was their awe. Elaine was scratching her chin and nodding her head. Alexander seemed as confused as ever. Anton, however, was frozen to the spot, clutching his forearms like he did when he was having an episode.

  Mina’s sword slammed into the general’s, and the metal gave way. Barrett’s eyes widened as shards of steel flew past his face, hitting the gravel. He stared at the broken sword before collapsing to his knees. The enchantment that the duel had cast on the crowd shattered, and the crowd erupted into cheers.

  But Adelia couldn’t breathe. The aura had spread across the arena, blanketing them in a suffocating presence. She leaned against the barricade. Their cheers were muffled, and the air was hazy. A fainting spell? No, this wasn’t physical. She tugged on Elaine’s sleeve.

  “Can’t you feel it?” she managed.

  Elaine peered at her in silence. Her gray eyes seemed older than they’d ever been, weighed down by life.

  “Barely.” Elaine pulled her arm away. “Then again, I ain’t one of you.” Her voice had almost dropped to an inaudible level.

  “One of… me?” Adelia frowned. The aura over the arena shifted, becoming sharper, and a deep rumbling echoed through the air. She whipped her head back up.

  “Now, that, I can hear,” said Elaine.

  The medics dashed over to General Barrett, but it was Mina who was doubled over, clutching her head. The rumbling was getting louder, and people were starting to look around. Mina threw her head back, letting out a roar—a sound that would have been impossible for a human to make. General Barrett was kicking the gravel to scramble back, and the trees surrounding the arena bent backward, their branches snapping and groaning in distress.

  Adelia shoved her fingers in her ears, though the noise was still shaking her to her core. She wanted nothing more than to hide in the safety of her bed, but another part of her desperately wanted to go to Mina. There was a sense of great sadness surrounding her friend, like a confused, wounded animal, desperate to return home—a wandering spirit separated from its body.

  The roar gradually subsided and took with it the suffocating aura. Mina let go of her sword and bolted, disappearing into the Celestine Forest a few moments later. Adelia let out a breath, and her feet finally felt the solid ground again. Something told her not to go after her.

  Their people seemed mostly in shock, not knowing whether to stay or leave. Anton’s face was pale as he glanced around wildly, tripping over himself. She couldn’t see Alexander in the confusion, but he wasn’t in his seat.

  Nothing made sense, and Adelia wanted answers. She grabbed Elaine’s hand, dragging her out of the arena, and she was somewhat surprised that Elaine didn’t resist. That old woman had a grip like a bearion, too. They made their way toward her bedroom, away from the growing cacophony of voices. She was sure that Alexander would sort out their people, just as he always did.

  Adelia locked the door behind them, her fingers lingering on the handle. Her mind was a whirlwind, her thoughts crashing against each other in a jumbled mess. An ambush. A potential betrayal. The impending war. Her best friend wasn’t a human. Was Adelia herself even human? The marriage seemed like such a trivial problem now.

  She turned to Elaine, who had taken a seat on her bed. She had to know something. Adelia sat next to her, unsure of where to start.

  “Been around since your parents were little, I have,” said Elaine. “Seen a lot in my time. I know you’ve got questions, but I can’t answer them.”

  “But why?”

  Elaine hiked up Adelia’s skirt in one swift motion, revealing the jagged, circular scar that marred the smooth skin of her leg. Adelia pulled her hem back down in an instant, gritting her teeth.

  “No one knows about that except for the people who were there.” Elaine clicked her tongue. “You’re not the only Winter who has begged me to keep secrets, you know. If it’s not your story to tell, don’t tell it, I always say.”

  Adelia gripped her dress. It was true. A proper lady always kept her body pristine and pure.

  Young ladies should not have battle scars. Only your husband will know of it, on your wedding night.

  Besides her family, no one else would ever know. It was a shameful, childish mistake.

  Elaine’s face softened; somehow, it seemed like even more wrinkles appeared. “But maybe it’s time to tell you mine.”

  Adelia perked up. Elaine had never been particularly secretive about her past. She had always had a heart for helping others, and when the castle realized that she had talent, she was placed under the service of Adelia’s grandfather. That was all there was to it.

  Elaine lifted her palms. “Healers hands, they called it. Remnants of the ancient spirit arts. A long-lost gift.” She balled her hands into fists. “I despise it. Always have.”

  Adelia’s eyes widened. She never would have thought that.

  “It’s unnatural, it is. It stole me away from my family. Not because it was a gift, but because it was something to keep a watch on. The empire has a strange opinion on the spirit arts. Folks like you are curious, interested. But others, including me, believe it’s like dirt, a stain on the inside. You’ve seen how the other nurses look at me, you have.”

  Adelia slowly nodded. She did seem to be the only one who was truly interested in the subject; even her brothers tended to avoid it. “But you’ve saved so many lives.”

  “And it has aged me, drained me faster than it should’ve.” Elaine sighed. “And it’s gotten people killed.”

  Adelia shook her head. “Some people can’t be saved. That’s not your fault.”

  “Lass, this one is. I was just a little girl myself at the time. I don’t remember when it started, but I began feeling weaker and weaker. Losing my mind, like my feet weren’t firm on the ground, and I was neither here nor there.”

  Elaine closed her eyes for a moment. “I remember a woman, hair as golden as the sun, with two little girls.
She found me in the forest one day, wandering without purpose. And suddenly, everything was better. The world was sharper, clearer, as if I was connected to everything, like a tree digging its roots into the soil. She took me in, told me everything would be all right.”

  Elaine turned away. “I didn’t thank her. I ran. I started seeing these little blue lights. She’d done something to me, something unnatural, and I was scared. I told the guards and brought them to her house.” Elaine paused. “It was just the woman, then, like she knew I was bringing trouble. The girls were gone. There was evidence of the spirit arts—books and whatnot. And they killed her right in front of me. Beat her till there was nothing left. Shared my opinion, the guards did, that the unnatural should be put down.”

  Adelia was silent. It was wrong, but she couldn’t condemn her. Elaine was like a mother to her, and this didn’t change that fact.

  Elaine shrugged. “My opinion hasn’t changed, but… there’s a part of me that regrets it. She showed me nothing but kindness.” Elaine pulled a small flask from her medic’s pouch, pouring water into her hand. “Wasn’t long after that when I discovered that she’d made me into one of them.” The water shifted into a sphere, then circled around her hand, breaking off into tiny streams that danced in the air.

  Adelia’s mouth opened. She reached out a hand to touch it, but the water shied away, sliding back into Elaine’s flask.

  “Healing ain’t the only thing I can do, lass. Not really my forte, but water is designed for many things.” Elaine put the stopper back in. “And so, I’d become what I despised. Different. My parents despised me, too, and if it wasn’t for your grandfather, I might have been on the streets. No one could deny my talents, but I’ve learned that we are afraid of things we cannot understand, and no one could understand me, not even myself. But I was useful, far more so than regular medicine. The soldiers, in particular, took a liking to me,” said Elaine with a little chuckle. “It wasn’t until you three were born that I came face to face with one of the woman’s daughters.”

  “What happened?” asked Adelia after a long pause.

  “That’s someone else’s story to tell. And I’m afraid they’ve taken it to their grave.”

  Adelia bit her tongue. Of course. There was no point in pressing her for the rest of the story if she’d made a promise. But that didn’t mean that she couldn’t ask her way around it. “So, you’re saying I’m one of them? Aren’t you one, too?”

  “Don’t know for sure. I don’t study them old books like you do. You’d know more than me. I only know what I’ve figured out myself. But you’re different, too. You’re more like those kids’ mother than me.”

  Adelia had a suspicion, but she wasn’t sure. People like Elaine seemed to be able to sense and use water, like she did for healing. But people like the mother in the forest had a different purpose. The pieces were starting to come together.

  Elaine stood, her motion stiff. “Only reason I’m telling you is because I want you to know I don’t despise you.” She smoothed her sleeves down. “Fear my decision had a bigger effect than I could have imagined, though.” She gave her a grim smile. “And I think you’re about to have your hands full with that servant girl.”

  Adelia was on her feet. She had completely forgotten. “I have to go look for her.”

  “Nay, I don’t think you should. Even I felt it, and I’m not like you. That lass is dangerous.”

  “I can’t stand around and do nothing.”

  Elaine stared at her. “Sometimes, nothing is the best thing you can do.” She unlocked the door with a click. “I need to return to the infirmary. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.” Elaine didn’t wait for a response, and the door shut behind her.

  Adelia buried her face in the pillows.

  She might be right.

  She’d never seen Mina like that before, but there wasn’t much that she could do about it. Besides, the last time she’d run off into the forest by herself, it hadn’t ended well. She shuddered, brushing the jagged circular scar on her leg. The marriage wasn’t such a big deal, after all, considering everything else. Adelia fingered her lyrecrane pendant, gazing at the brilliant shine of its wings.

  Mina’s smile flashed in her mind. Not long after, she felt the suffocating aura again. Adelia unlatched the window, leaning out into the night. It was faint, but it could only be Mina.

  I hope she’s okay.

  10

  Chapter Ten

  Alexander

  Alexander clapped his hands over his ears, bracing himself against his seat. An awful sound was coming from Mina, a roar that pierced his spirit, the vibrations threatening to burst his eardrums. And yet… the sound was reminiscent of a lost child, wandering the streets in despair.

  Then, it stopped.

  The scene hung in the air, as though frozen in time. His people cowered in the stands, and no one moved a muscle. His general scrambled backward, trying to find his feet as he limped away, tripping over himself. Mina bolted toward the forest.

  As if something had snapped, everyone ran for the exits. Alexander was pushed back against a sea of people, soldiers and servants alike clambering to get as far away as they could from the terrifying display. An arm hit him in the chest, a heavy foot crashed down on top of his, an elbow struck him in the shoulder. People seemed to look past him, their desperation akin to beasts about to be slaughtered.

  Alexander gritted his teeth, weaving his way through the crowd, shielding his face but taking care not to hurt anyone. When he emerged on the other side of the arena, opposite the exits, he let out a long breath.

  What am I doing?

  He was just as perplexed as everyone else, but if there was ever a time his people needed a leader, it was now. Yet, he found himself staring at her footprints at the edge of the Celestine Forest, hesitant to follow. Now was not the time to lose his head.

  Alexander planted his feet, taking a few deep breaths. If he went straight to his people before finding Mina, they would surely cause a riot against her—the servant girl who displayed otherworldly powers. His soldiers were part of the frightened crowd, and he wasn’t sure that he could control their fear alone. This was a far cry from anything they had dealt with before. His people tolerated Elaine because she was the best healer in the land, but Mina had instilled a primal terror within them. His father’s voice echoed in his mind.

  The unknown is often the greatest source of fear.

  His father was right. If he could understand her, if they could all understand everything that had happened, they may no longer need to be afraid. Alexander rubbed his knees, urging them to stop trembling. He had two choices. He could stay, give in to the fear of the unknown, bury his head in the sand and rally his people behind what they thought they knew; that would be the route that most leaders would choose. Or he could pursue the truth, no matter the cost.

  Alexander turned toward the forest. He could already see Mina’s gentle smile, the way she gave every aspect of a situation careful thought.

  All weeds are killed by pulling them from the roots, not by plucking a few leaves off or breaking the stem.

  He took one step, then another. To stay would only be applying a bandage to a wound. He had to find answers, and there was only one person who had them. He broke into a run. Perhaps she even held the key to stopping the war. Alexander controlled his breathing, ducking under branches and leaping over almost invisible roots. His hazy reflection danced across the silverlight trees as the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind them.

  The snow grew thick as he trudged deeper into the forest, but her footprints seemed to be getting farther and farther apart. He slowed to a jog, his senses more alert. Soon, he seemed to hit the end of the trail entirely. He spun in circles, catching his breath, careful to note where his own footprints lay. This was definitely the end of her trail. In these conditions, there shouldn’t have been anything to cover her tracks. It was as if she had disappeared entirely.

  Alexander examined his s
urroundings, mentally calculating his whereabouts. He recognized the two silverlight trees partially intertwined. The ravine would be a dozen yards to the west. He was around halfway to their northern border, a long way for anyone to run. He put his ear up to the tree and closed his eyes, the glasslike wood cold on his ear. There was a faint vibration, and it didn’t sound like the Moonstone River. Slowly, the vibration turned into a low rumble.

  Alexander ducked behind a large shrub. He regretted not taking his cloak with him, as the pattern was built to blend in with the snow and cover his red hair. He could hear the rumble loud and clear now. The distinct sound of heavy footsteps—a lot of them. His border scouts should have alerted him, but maybe the Lanadese had already gotten to them. He drew his sword, laying close to the floor and stealing a glance. Faint lights in the distance reflected through the trees as the lanterns bobbed through the forest, illuminating the soldiers’ path as dusk gave way to night.

  There had to be about fifty of them, all completely armored and armed, a standard party for unfriendly negotiations. Not large enough to be an army, but obviously not your average scouting party. Alexander narrowed his eyes. They were wearing white and gold—the imperial colors, not Lanadese. He let out a sigh of relief. Prince Yukiya had received his message after all and was sending reinforcements.

  Still, it was a bit strange that no one had come to inform him of their arrival. Perhaps in all of the confusion, the message had just slipped through the ranks. Alexander sheathed his sword, brushing off the snow as he stood. Maybe they could even help him look for Mina. He put his arm across his chest, then raised it in the air—the standard greeting for non-hostile parties.

  “Greetings,” he called.

  The men came to a halt a few yards away, though his salute wasn’t returned. The man on the horse acknowledged him with a small nod. His horse’s mane and tail held decorations woven between the feathers, similar to his flashy uniform; he was clearly a high-ranking official. The man’s head was smooth, except for the long, sleek ponytail that rose from the top, matching the two whiskers hanging limply above his lips.