Aiza

Dusk darkened the canopy of the forest, giving the branches an appearance of hands reaching towards Aiza. Twigs snapped beneath her little feet as she crept through the shrubs toward a towering, grassy hill in the distance. Hope filled her chest. Perhaps there would be a cave, or at the very least, she would be able to see far enough to regain her path.

At long last, Aiza neared the clearing. A relieved sigh left her lips as she made it to the edge of the undergrowth. Sitting down on a large, twisted root, she took a moment to catch her breath. Sniffing, she wished her sister Nyra was there to guide her.

Except Nyra was gone, and Aiza was alone. All she could do now was follow her instincts. Steeling herself, Aiza set foot to climb the rolling hillside. Before she could start the ascent, the ground began to tremble. Earth tumbled down in her direction, threatening to overcome her. Aiza fell back, scrambling to the clearing’s edge. She darted down, bracing behind a wide tree trunk.

When the worst of it had subsided, the girl coughed, squirming out of the rocks that had landed around her. Pulling herself to her feet, she risked glancing back at the hill. Aiza froze in her tracks and sucked in a breath, shocked by the scene. This was no hill or mountain; it was a great beast of legend. It was an Ancient One, and worse, she had woken it.

The beast blinked before shaking out its wings, great emerald sails, sending forest litter in every direction. A horned head raised up on serpentine neck, mouth gaping wide in a yawn that revealed rows of serrated teeth. Each one both longer and wider than her father's scythe. Aiza realized she had seconds to act. Tearing her muscles from their frozen state, she ducked into the brush. Breathing ragged, she did not know if she had been seen.

Soil cascaded off the sides of the beast as it stood, sending dark clouds into the air and revealing iridescent green scales. Like a cat after a nap, it stretched its long-stagnant muscles and yawned once more. Its imposing head suddenly whipped around. A forked tongue flicked eagerly out of its maw, tasting the scent that had interrupted its slumber.

"Come out, young one. There is nowhere to go where I cannot find you now," it called in a thunderous voice.

The sound tore through the trees, shaking the amber leaves off their branches. Light from the moons flickered through the foliage as the beast turned to scan the forest floor, searching for her.

“There is little reason to hide,” the great serpent hissed. “Now that I have your scent, you will not escape me.”

Aiza peeked out from her hiding place, her face and hair caked in mud. Clean streaks traced the path of tears from her bloodshot blue eyes. Clothes torn, shoeless, and shaking, the girl fell to her knees in front of the creature.

"P-please, don't eat me!" Aiza cried.

A grating sound shook the earth below the child. The beast was laughing.

"Certainly not!" it exclaimed. "Well, not before you have bathed, in any case."

Before Aiza could protest, she was lifted from the ground by talons twice her height. They held her like a bird in a cage. Her screams sent a flock of crows screeching up from the treetops. Air whipped through Aiza's hair, her vision fading in and out, before darkness engulfed her.

*

The chill of smooth stone seeping into her bones was the first thing Aiza felt as she woke. She did not know how long she had slept, but the first sounds of a new day filled her ears. She stretched her arms and groaned, feeling as she did after a long day working in the garden. Rubbing an eye, she pushed herself up with one hand. The rock below her palm felt uneven, and she looked down to find deep gashes in the stone’s otherwise flawless surface.

Memories flooded back as she recalled the terror of the night previous. Frantically, she rose to her feet and checked her surroundings. A bubbling, waterfall-fed spring cut through sand and stone. Crests of foothills encircled the area as if she were inside a very large bowl. Framing the spring were oaks in the midst of turning color with the season, and to her delight, a grove of blackberry bushes.

Her nightmare was nowhere in sight. She had been abandoned yet again. Aiza traced the shattered stone with her foot, tears streaming freely. She had no way of knowing how far they had flown. A veil of grief settled over her head. She would never be able to find her family.

An urgent growl from her stomach put her morbid thoughts to rest. Aiza had not eaten in days and was nearly too weak to make it to the blackberry bushes. After eating her fill, and pocketing some, she nervously surveyed her surroundings once more.

The sun was beginning to rise over the mountain peaks. Reaching the spring, it reflected off the water in little rainbows. Seeing no sign of the beast, Aiza waded in cautiously. She drank, and washed herself in the current. It was refreshing to finally clear the forest debris off of her skin. The water was somehow cold and warm all at once, leaving her feeling dazed as she got out.

“I should have started the fire before I swam,” Aiza grumbled to herself, imagining her mothers voice chastising her. Her clothes dripped water onto her cold feet as she gathered sticks and twigs from below the trees.

*

Aiza shivered, holding her hands over the tiny flame she had mustered up. Her only bit of flint had been used up on such a meager fire, and it was sure to die before she could fully dry. Nyra would have made a better fire, and held her until she was warm. Despair overtook her. She rested her head on her knees and let the tears trickle down her legs.

The chill in the air and her damp, tattered clothes made the passing of time frigid and stagnant. The sun shining on the mountains reminded her of her home—her little valley.

Her sad fire died just as the sun reached its peak. Aiza walked around aimlessly until she found cover between two roots of a larger tree. She curled up and munched on blackberries, trying to ignore the feelings threatening to overwhelm her.

It wasn’t long before soft sobs filled the damp air beneath the tree. Aiza wept until she had no tears left, and then there was emptiness. She gave up any hope of returning home or making it out of this forest alive. Thoughts of her family, their farm, and her warm bed buzzed in her mind.

“My family did not want me, or Nyra would not have left me while I slept,” she whispered, wiping her cheeks with her palms and sniffing. “That beast left me here to suffer. Now my time will end at the bottom of a tree, alone.”

The sniffling turned to silence as the girl fell in and out of sleep. She dreamt of what was and what would never be, nightmares of a great serpent swallowing her whole.

*

The ground shook violently, startling Aiza out of her fitful rest. Her head snapped out of her nook. She scrambled from under the tree, pulling herself to her feet.

“Thank the Old gods that you have returned!” the girl shouted, approaching the beast cautiously. “Where have you taken me?"

“A secret place of mine,” it said. “Few have been here before, none of your kind to be sure. What is your name, child?”

It curled up on the flat of stone in front of Aiza, placing one great claw over the other and peering down at the girl. Slitted, glowing green eyes narrowed as they met hers.

“M-my name is Aiza,” she stammered, “of Dyrefell. What do I call you, Ancient One?”

The beast leaned its head lower, darting its tongue at her as it took in her scent once more. Fear froze Aiza in her place as it crept closer, towering over her and casting a dark shadow across the spring. She suddenly regretted leaving her hiding place, regardless of knowing that she would have been found.

“You could not pronounce my true name. You may call me Ethyriel. I am the very last egg bearer of the great dragons of Old. You know of us,” she said, more a statement than a question.

“My mother has told me of your kind. She says no one has seen a dragon in hundreds of years.”

“No one has seen an elf in hundreds of years either, and yet, here you stand before me." Ethyriel cleaned her talons with her tongue as she waited for a response.

Confusion furrowed Aiza's brow and she shook her head, her long auburn hair falling into her face.

“I am not an elf,” she finally said.

Aiza tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she stared up at Ethyriel in disbelief. “Dyrefell is a human village. I am a human.”

“Your scent says otherwise," Ethyriel looked the girl up and down. "The dirt hid you well, but you are an elf! A curiously small one, but an elf through and through.”

Aiza balked. That was not possible. She thought of her parents and sister. All of her memories of her village in the valley flooded to her mind once more. Playing with Nyra in the river, her daily lessons with her mother by the fire, gardening with her father. Real memories, human memories.

“Why, my dear, has no one told you? An elf with snipped ears remains an elf. Have you never felt wise beyond your years? Wondered at your strength rivaling that of adult humans? Or, perhaps you were hidden from the world?" the great dragon inquired.

Ethyriel raised her head from her claws to look directly at the girl. "Blood does not lie my dear, but fortunately for you, it means I cannot eat you. The oath forbids it.”

Aiza turned away from Ethyriel, confusion and relief mixing in equal parts. Reaching up, she rubbed the tips of her ears as she often did. Her scars felt somehow different this time. Her parents had said it had been caused by a freak accident, an illness when she was a baby. She did not know what to believe. They had perpetually silenced her questions and told her to hide the scars. Never allowed to play with the other children of the village, or meet the traders who caravanned through twice a year. This would explain why she was not allowed to leave their farm. Perhaps, this was the reason she had been abandoned by her family.

“No! No,” her little voice broke. “It can’t be true.”

“Ah, but it is. Over a hundred years ago, the Ancient Ones made a binding oath with the elves, our only true equals. If we were to lose the war, they would seal us underground with their magic to protect both our lineage and theirs. One cannot live without the other. We lost a good many dragons and elves to the human Ephemeral Armies. Their forces were infinite, and we had so few," Ethyriel paused, looking up at the sky.

"Though we fought for hundreds of years, the Ephemeral Armies eventually won the war. The oath was brought into effect, and both Ancient races went into hiding. Only an elf of royal blood can awaken the Ancient Ones, as it was written. Had I known the chosen one was to be such a young child," the great dragon bowed her head. "I would not have treated you so. My sincerest apologies, Princess."

Too shocked for words, Aiza stood silent. Her thoughts scrambled as she tried to comprehend all that she heard. Not only was she an elf, Ethyriel had addressed her as royalty.

"I am… a princess?"

*

The final light of the day disappeared behind the rocky peaks, but Aiza worried no longer about staying warm through the night. Ethyriel had set to work on felling a tree for a fire as she answered Aiza’s many questions. Once the pile was arranged to the dragon’s liking, a golden glow lit up the ground beneath Ethyriel’s chest. She reared up on her hind legs, and with a shuddering inhale, expelled a jet of bright blue fire upon the timber.

Seemingly pleased with her work, she curled up around the towering flames. Placing her head down beside Aiza, she closed her glowing eyes to enjoy the heat of the fire. The scales of her hide sparkled like many shades of jade in the firelight.

Aiza looked up hesitantly at Ethyriel, still unsure if the Ancient One could be trusted. Perhaps she could still become a late dinner for the beast. Ethyriel peered back down at her with one half opened eye.

“Be at peace, princess,” the dragon whispered. “I promise I will not eat you. I shall keep you safe through the night. Rest now.”

This comment did little to ease Aiza’s fluttering heart. With so much new information and her mind brimming with questions, the last thing she cared about was sleep.

“How do you know I am the chosen one? Why me?” She asked for the third time. "I am not a princess. I am just a farmer’s daughter.”

Aiza huffed. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on her crossed arms, waiting for a response that could convince her. Ethyriel sighed and reopened her eyes.

“You are so much more than that, dear one. I searched my resting place for any sign of elven touch, but found none. I searched until the sun peaked in the sky, but the only trace I found was your own muddied scent. Even I was not convinced until you had washed yourself clean. Now it is as clear as the waters in the spring of renewal. You are the one who woke me.”

“I still do not believe you,” Aiza said defiantly. “I did not choose to wake you! How could I be an elf?”

“If you were not elvish, the spring you bathed in would have taken your final breath. Its waters cleanse only those who are worthy, as you are. All others perish. Are you satisfied now, or shall we continue this incessant questioning?”

“Wait, the spring of renewal? What does it do?”

“That is enough questions for one night, child. Sleep now. You will need the rest come morning.”

Aiza opened her mouth to ask again, but the green eyes had shut once more. The girl laid by the fire and stared at the stars above, imagining her family gazing at the same sky. Memories flashed across her vision for a long while. Eventually, the heat of the flames and Ethyriel’s deep, steady breaths lulled Aiza into an uneasy sleep.

*

Sunlight filtered through the girl’s eyelids as she woke, feeling warm. She remained half-asleep for a moment longer. When Aiza finally opened her eyes, she jumped. A translucent green canopy spread over her head. Ethyriel’s wing. The dragon had covered the girl in her sleep, and beneath the wing, heat emanated from the beast’s great body. Despite the initial shock of waking to find herself trapped beneath the creature, Aiza was grateful to have had her first night of comfortable sleep in nearly three moons.

“Are you awake?” Aiza whispered.

“Yes, child. I have been for some time. Rise now, it is almost time.”

“Time for what?”

“To meet Hyperion,” Ethyriel said, vibrating with excitement. “He shall be most pleased.”

“Who is that? What do you mean?”

The dragon hushed her, folding her wing back to her side and gesturing with her head to one of the foothills. Aiza saw nothing. She looked back up at Ethyriel with a raised eyebrow.

“When the princess drinks the waters of the spring of renewal, all those who were set to rest shall rise. The Ancient Ones will walk the earth once more, and peace will reign. As it was written.”

“The spring I swam in yesterday? Is that what you speak of?” Aiza asked, desperation in her voice.

“Calm yourself, young one. You are the key to the future of my race and your own, you are chosen. You will unite the lands and bring peace to the world. There is naught you can do to alter what has been written.”

“You have not answered anything I have asked of you! Who is Hyperion?”

“My other half,” Ethyriel said, looking back up at the foothill. A spark flickered in her eye that Aiza had not seen before. “We are the two who will become many. We will not allow our race to be forgotten to time.”

“So, Hyperion is… your husband?” Aiza asked with a giggle.

“I suppose, in the human tongue, that is what you would call him.”

“He is your family then.”

Ethyriel nodded. “He is all that remains of my kin. The rest—my children, my siblings—were all lost to the war.”

“I wish I could see my family again,” Aiza said, frowning. “My sister Nyra took me off into the night three moons ago. The last thing I heard was screams. Nyra and I ran together until I could run no longer. When I woke, she was gone. I will never know what happened to them.”

“Sweet princess, today you reunite me with my love. Together, we shall find your kin. My gratitude to you will never be paid, I owe you a life debt. We will protect you till the end of our days.” Ethyriel looked down at her, sincerity rang clear in her voice.

Though the pain of abandonment remained, a flicker of hope filled Aiza’s chest as the dragon’s words resounded in her mind. There was a chance. As she pondered the likelihood of finding her family, the ground began to shift. Aiza jerked her head up to locate the source of the earthquake.

The foothill was crumbling, rocks and earth separating, caving down towards them. The girl watched in a panic. She and Ethyriel were close enough to be crushed in the avalanche. As a scream bubbled up inside her, Aiza was once again plucked swiftly from the ground by Ethyriel’s long talons. With two beats of her wings, they were in the air. Aiza squeezed her eyes shut as the air left her lungs. They did not fly so quickly, or nearly as high this time. Ethyriel hovered just out of reach of the tumbling rocks.

Aiza opened her eyes and looked down to see the wreckage, but was surprised she could see next to nothing. The sun was completely blocked out, a shadow cast across the entirety of the valley. Looking up, her jaw dropped.

A great, silver dragon was cleaning itself on what was left of the mountain's foothill. Sunlight filtered through the opalescent webbing of its outstretched wings. Its colossal body completely obscured the remainder of the sun’s rays. It lifted its hulking head to the sky and roared, an explosion of sound that scattered the clouds above.

Aiza stared in awe of the Ancient One, then shouted up at Ethyriel. “This is Hyperion!?”

“Yes, dear one, it is he.”

The immense silver beast leaned back on its haunches, beating its wings repeatedly. Several trees fell to the gusts as Hyperion took to the sky. He swiftly cleared the air to Ethyriel, colliding with her and humming with delight as they tumbled back down to the clearing. A mess of wings and claws, with Aiza trapped in the middle of it. Ethyriel shielded her from the brunt of the fall.

*

“So, you are the chosen one? Prophesied princess, uniter of kingdoms?” Hyperion asked, his deep, polyphonic voice vibrating the ground on which they sat. “I imagined you would be… bigger.”

Aiza bobbed her head up and down once. “That is what Ethyriel tells me. I am starting to believe now, with you here.”

“Indeed, princess,” the mighty beast laughed, a rich, booming sound. “She is rarely wrong, you know.”

Ethyriel was grooming Hyperion as he and Aiza became acquainted, but stopped to nod appreciatively at this comment. It was clearly difficult removing the dirt from his lustrous hide with so much area to cover, and seemed to Aiza a tiresome task. She wished again that she could help somehow.

“Are you sure there is nothing I can do? This shall take forever, you are absolutely filthy,” Aiza said with a smirk.

“Hush, it shall be over soon,” Ethyriel replied, “and then we may begin our search for your loved ones. Patience, my dear.”

Aiza grumbled, crossing her arms. She was content to wait, but did not want to do so idly.

“If you are so keen on doing something of importance, you should practice your magic. One as small as you will need to grow stronger if you are to unite the kingdoms, as it was written,” Hyperion stated.

Aiza’s face scrunched up in confusion. She had no idea what Hyperion meant by this. He sighed and shook his head.

“I see you have had no training in the elven ways nor the Voice of Old. Sit, and place your palms on the earth. Reach out with your mind and feel for the living things surrounding you: the plants growing in the valley, the creatures of the forest great and small. Let their energy flow through you and back into the earth."

Aiza obeyed his orders, climbing down from the rock on which she was perched to find a smooth place to sit. She plopped down and pressed her fingers into the soft ground. The girl felt nothing.

“It is not working,” she said indignantly, crossing her arms.

“You are not trying,” he replied. “You must open your mind, child. Clear your thoughts, and breathe deeply.”

The girl's chest rose and fell with a steady pace. She closed her eyes and centered herself with her breath. With each exhale, worries that had been plaguing her thoughts slipped away. A feeling of weightlessness overcame her, and sparks danced in her vision. Lights appeared in many different colors, moving and mingling together; small pieces of a greater whole.

“I can see them,” she gasped. “There are so many, too many to count.”

“Every living thing beneath the sun is connected, and you, princess, are their conduit. Feel their energy within you, draw it towards you then release it once more.”

She complied, feeling the edges of her mind stretch, grasping for the light. The energies she saw, she now felt as her own. With an exhale, she released the power that bound them together back into the forest, and opened her eyes.

“Well done, child. Did you feel that little bush a few paces behind you?” Hyperion asked.

“Yes, I felt it.”

“I want you to draw on its energy and say this word: Lasair.”

Aiza took a few more deep breaths, closed her eyes, and felt backward with her mind. She drew in the energy from the leaves and the deep roots of the bush.

“Lasair,” she rasped. Her voice did not sound like her own, it echoed in the same low resonant tone of the Ancient Ones. Many voices speaking in place of hers.

Blazing heat erupted behind her. Eyes snapping open, Aiza scrambled away from the sudden burst of flames. The blue conflagration flickered for a moment before burning out. She stared at the charred remains of the bush in wonder. This destruction was her doing.

“We will make a mage of you yet, princess,” Ethyriel exclaimed with pride.

Aiza was not so certain.

*

Flying from dragonback was much more comfortable than trapped in talons. Aiza clutched tightly to a spike jutting from Ethyriel's spine. Though she had the freedom to move, her muscles grew sore from clenching.

They had been aloft for too long without any sign of Nyra. Night was near, and they would have to return to the valley without her. Aiza prayed to the Old gods that Hyperion had met with more luck.

Ethyriel had persuaded the girl that nothing could escape her sight. Still, apprehension filled Aiza as the moments dragged on and the sun dipped further towards the horizon.

“We will never find her once night falls!” Aiza shouted over the wind, “I know you can see in the dark, but she would have found a place to hide by now!”

Peering over her shoulder, Ethyriel nodded. “You are right, we must return to the valley to meet with Hyperion. I am sure he has found your parents by now.”

Journeying back to the valley felt swift in comparison to their fruitless pursuit. A sinking feeling plagued Aiza, her mind fraught with dark thoughts of her sister’s fate.

*

They landed near the spring. The aftermath of Hyperion’s upheaval had left stones scattered across the valley floor, casting shadows around them that grew longer with the setting sun.

After Aiza had cleaned up and eaten, Ethyriel convinced her to continue practicing her Voice of Old. The girl had refused to learn more destructive magic, so they focused on new words.

“Fás,” Aiza hissed at the blackberry bush, purple light flooding her vision. A few buds bloomed into flowers, then shifted to ripe, dark berries in the blink of an eye. She beamed at Ethyriel.

“I did it!” Aiza shouted happily. “Teach me more!”

“Ardú is next,” Ethyriel ordered. “It will allow you to move small objects at will.”

Aiza plucked a berry from the bush and held it in her palm. She closed her eyes and concentrated. “Ardú.”

The berry shifted in her palm slightly. Aiza huffed, scowling. She planted her feet and closed her eyes, centering herself. As she opened her mouth to try again, the sound of Hyperion’s roar filled the air.

Aiza dropped the berry, running to him as fast as her feet would carry her. His head hung low, and despair filled Aiza’s heart as she realized he was alone.

“I am sorry, princess,” Hyperion said. “Your village, it is in ruins. Burned to the ground by Ilbor the Terrible. I looked far and wide for your parents,” he paused and shifted his weight.

“I found their bodies. There were no survivors in the village. Everything was destroyed.”

Aiza shook her head in denial, she turned her back to the dragons, and fell to her knees. Tears blurred her vision, dripping silently. Her parents, her home, their little farm. Gone. All gone.

“Do not despair, child. I do bring good news,” Hyperion claimed. Aiza doubted there was much that would make her feel whole, but she turned to him.

“I have your sister,” the silver beast opened his dark talons, and Nyra tumbled out, distraught.

*

The sisters’ reunion was a happy one, but an atmosphere of grief still clung to the air. They laughed, cried, and held each other for a very long time. As the moons slowly rose, they reminisced on their childhood and grieved the loss of their parents. Aiza shared all that had happened to her since the night Nyra disappeared, and Nyra told her of her plight.

“There were men after us, Aiza. Father said they were dangerous. He told me to take you as far away as I could. I went back in the night, but they were gone, then I lost you too,” Nyra murmured, her green eyes brimming with fresh tears.

“I hid for days before Hyperion found me. It appears you have been in safe hands—or rather, talons—all this time, princess,” she brushed a tear from Aiza’s cheek.

“Dear ones,” Ethyriel whispered to the girls, interrupting their lament. “We cannot allow Ilbor's actions to sully our path. He must be stopped.”

“What she says is true,” Hyperion assented. “He laid your village to waste; the surrounding forest and coastal villages too. He will burn anything that lives to ash until he is put back to rest.”

“Put back to rest?” Nyra repeated uncertainly.

“Then, it was I who woke him,” Aiza realized.

Ethyriel grimaced. “No, little one. I brought you to the spring, so it was I who stirred his vengeful spirit. You are not to blame.”

“Princess, you are the only one who can end his reign of terror. You must use the Old Voice to put him to sleep forevermore,” Hyperion declared. “The three races will never live in peace unless you do this.”

Aiza looked at the mighty dragons towering above them, then to Nyra. “We will ride together.”

The burden of her task weighed heavily on Aiza, but she was no longer alone.