Queen of Dragons

THERE WEREN’T ALWAYS DRAGONS IN THE VALLEY, but the predecessors were evil in their own way.

These lands were once free of such creatures. The only vermin that existed were those that scurried down the alleyways, crawling into the locked chambers of their woeful, secret lovers who screamed into the night at a moon who would never sing back.

But the lands of the past were also dark, tainted, and stained… they were marked with the grime and filth left behind by mere humans and were often riddled with pools of blood beneath forgotten bodies of righteous martyrs.

I would never know that place again, nor would my children—should I be so unfortunate to have them. That said, I will know about the greedy, slithering hands that suffocated me of my own well-being.

And for that reason, I will never go back.

My nails gritted into the side of a mountain, feet slipping between rocks that collapsed to the endless depths below. The textured surface sliced my hands raw, and by the time I had hoisted myself over the cliff they were dotted with crimson droplets.

Pulling my scarf over my nose, I knelt before moving forward and finding cover behind a large boulder. The cheers of the lost souls echoed into a harmonious, gray sky riddled with bolts of lightning.

As my eyes lowered to the crowd, rain fell from the heavens. It was a blessing in disguise, and I thanked whatever forsaken God resided above the tempest for the mud that muffled my steps. I approached another overhang and the full crowd came into view. It was littered with thousands of skeletal creatures that cheered to their leader. Some had skin that sagged from their bones, while others were as milky and hard and brittle as a half-decomposed corpse.

My gaze darted to the stage, drifting to large and decrepit columns that rocketed into the sky and swayed with the wind. A man sauntered back and forth across with hands drawn behind his back, hair as dark as the storm clouds above. He had these eyes stole whatever sense of soul remained in that crowd.

“The tomb has beckoned,” his voice growled into the open air as if he owned it, “and the graves have sunk in the mud.”

I gripped the sheath of my dagger and sucked in a shallow breath.

He continued, stopping at the edge of the platform and knelt to accept an offering from one of his followers. Something glistened in his hand now, and when he stood, his eyes radiated wilder than the lightning that raged above.

“With this call, we must act in haste. The righteous Kings and Queens can make their commands… can turn their sword to my neck and carve their words into my skin, but when the tomb reveals all, our souls will be returned to our rightful place. We will rule the land that was taken from us!”

I stood to my feet with this, blinking down at him as he held the object in his hand to the sky. It began with thunder—a tune of chaos that beckoned and cried for relief—and then came a strike of electric blue upon his hand. The crowd roared, and as the lightning connected to him, it remained like a strand that hooked him to the clouds.

The man turned his head upward, eyes boring into me so violently that I feared he could see me through the haze, mist, and, rain. I pulled my cloak back above my head and grasped to unsheathe my dagger, but before my hands could wrap around the cool leather handle, he turned his finger toward me.

With that came a firebolt.

I held my hand up to cover my face, eyes shut as tight as they could go, and braced for my entire body to be seized.

A second passed, and when I opened my eyes to nothing but blinding light, I thought I had been taken to the place where lost souls go—the eternal resting place…

A roar of applause echoed below. I turned my head and saw a strand of electricity holding us together. From here I caught that wicked glare and pleased smile on his face.

I tried to tear my hand away, tried to force myself off this electric bond that tied us, but it tightened around my wrist with each tug.

“And with this tomb comes a sacrifice, Dragon Queen.”

My blood stilled.

After the rock beneath my feet started to tremble and quake, I widened my stance and fetched my dagger. Hands of those skeletal creatures grasped onto the ledge, and when those soulless pits for eyes came into view, I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach.

I moved for my dagger and held it toward them with my free hand, the other singeing with each move. Before I could make a motion to attack, the undead had me in their bony grasps.

I cursed, thrashed, and screamed, but when I turned my head to the ground, I saw the hundreds of undead subjects bowing with their bodies pointed at me. Twisting back to the man, he mockingly bowed before tugging me off the ledge and down the strand of lightning.

Smashing into the stage where he stood, my face dragged against the loose splinters of wood and pebbles. I dared not move, only slipping the tips of my finger in a desperate attempt for my weapon, but the sheath was empty.

My bones ached.

The world around me whirled, and my vision started to blur in and out of focus as a migraine consumed my headspace.

Two pairs of black boots came into view, knees popping when he knelt before me. Grabbing me by the chin, I was forced to meet a pair of eyes that were grayer than the storm and scarier than the mere thought of dragons.

He went as far to grin down at me, his irises suddenly flashing yellow with slits for pupils.

“Welcome to the Dragon Court. We have missed our queen.”