Scales of Flame and Shadow

There weren’t always dragons in the valley, I thought as Ayana and I stepped away from our conversation at the tavern. But those men seemed to know a lot about them … thank the Skies that they didn’t recognize me, or they’d grill me with more questions than I could imagine.

My foot caught on the door frame of the rickety building, and I yelped as I pummeled directly into my friend. Faster than an archer’s arrow, she turned and caught me by the underarms, her eyes alert and frenzied.

“I-I’m okay, just tripped,” I mumbled as I shook her off and continued walking, holding my chin up as if nothing had happened.

Ayana stumbled after me, laughter shaking her entirety.

“Shush, Ayana, that was not funny!” I exclaimed, punching my guard—and best friend—on the shoulder. I did not see anyone who realized, Ayana was quick to point it out.

“Such grace you hold yourself with, your Majesty,” she inclined her head as we walked, and I clutched my hands into fists before I had another chance to embarrass myself.

The streets of Crandalla were flourishing, a rainbow of ribbons and balloons creating a canopy, the sun shining through in colorful rays. The ancient buildings bore flags of orange, yellow, and brown—the colors of our capital, Basinia. The Festival of Levántate was a pride of all of Crandalla; the rising of children into proper ranks, celebrating our independence, and rising to form a kingdom competitive on a global scale—those were only some of the things this week had stood for.

Tomorrow, since it was the final day, would also be the day I begin my Royal Retreat. Unlike other kingdoms along our borders, we took great pride in being one with our people, and the best way to understand their needs was to live among them—for three months.

“I’ll miss you,” I said, fidgeting with my blonde braid as we walked. Vendors from either side of the street called out to us, though I kept my gaze forward.

“Did you really think that the King would allow you to go unguarded for three months? I’m coming with you, Vallea,” she said, attempting to hide her smug smile. I looked up to her—as she was nearly a foot taller than me—and stopped cold.

“How long have you known!” I exclaimed, unable to stop the smile from curling onto my lips. “And I know it took some convincing on your part … there is no way Father allowed this otherwise.”

She ran a hand through her close-cropped strawberry hair and shrugged. “Well, more Tundarian soldiers have been spotted—.”

A shrill shriek permeated the air, and I shot around before anyone else, feeling for the dagger clipped to my thigh beneath my yellow dress. Like the sinister billowing of grass and trees before a storm, the city behind us erupted in cries.

“Run!”

“Floods!”

“The dams have broken!”

Ayana’s hand steeled over my arm, and in nearly one thrust I was catapulted into the nearest door.

“Go, Vallea, I’ll come—.”

I cut her off, my gaze turning hard as a Warrior Dragon’s scales. “No, I will not allow you—.”

An orange flash zipped through the narrow street as if dancing upon the walls of buildings, ripping the ribbon canopy to shreds. It was a dragon—merely a baby, with little control of its wings—lit with fire. My concern laid not with the dragon, as fire would bring no harm to the misunderstood creature, but for Basinia—who would set him loose, and with flame covering his entirety? In the capital of Crandalla, such things did not happen.

Ayana’s eyes of soil brown met mine, our joint understanding of the situation clear. The Tundarians.

Even before I uttered a word to my friend and protector, I was ushered into the building behind me by hands of withered stone.

“Glynis, I have to help Ayana—.”

“You will do no such thing! Come, the waters are almost here,” my old caretaker exclaimed. “Round up as many as you can, children if possible.” She squeezed my hand before rushing into the bustle of the street, and I rose my chin before helping her guide people into the empty Care Center.

The waters crashed through our city moments after we bolted the door and scurried to the top floor, where a multitude of children and families packed together in silence. Whether it was the realization that this was not an accident or the fact that I, the Crown Princess of Crandalla, was disheveled and unguarded before them, the situation was not in our favor.

I pressed my cheek against a window in the least crowded room I could find, though I flinched away as I caught sight of the Royal Roosts—the tower where the dragons were nurtured and fed. Fireballs flew away from the flaming tower in every direction, crashing to the ground as large nets were shot over them. Soldiers of purple and silver flooded the streets, just as the released water from the dams had before. Dragons were carried by in cages, though the Tundarians would have no use for the creatures in their desert wastelands—extermination would be the only option. My nails dug into my palms as I clenched my fists, and I furiously tucked a piece of escaped hair behind my ear.

What was I doing, sitting in a care center while my city was overrun by the enemy? I was the Crown Princess—news of my absence would soon spread, and my guards would be sent out to find me. Then what? I would sit in the palace as my father negotiated with the Queen of Tundarium, not able to lift a finger in aid of my people. Ayana was out there somewhere, and I would not have a chance to help her if I was locked behind the palace walls.

One family—parents with an infant and sickly boy, who laid in the bed—accompanied me in the room. They had been honored I stayed with them and even prayed over their son, but I could not help them here. I opened the closet and snatched out a cloak, though the air was thick with heat and moisture, and slipped through the door wordlessly. I pulled the hood over me and ducked my head as I scampered down the steps to the first floor, where a half-foot of water remained.

Bottles and stray pieces of colorful ribbon drifted past me as I waded down the street, clutching the hilt of my dagger until my knuckles turned white. A commotion sounded from an alley to my right, and I readied myself as two figures burst around the corner, nearly charging into me before coming to a halt.

“Hello—sorry!” The boy, his earthy tones dubbing him from Crandalla, ran off, his friend quickly in tow.

My body quaked as I watched them leave; what would I have done, if they had been armed and ready to fight?

“Vallea!” I turned, only to see Ayana rushing toward me, sword shifting at her hip.

“Thank the Skies, you’re alright!” I exclaimed, forcing a small smile. “What of our people? How many have been injured? Has Father released the infantry—.”

“Whoa, Princess, slow down. I’m here to bring you back to the palace—I went to the care center but turns out you’d left. You gave Glynis a heart attack, you know?” She shook her head. “What is with you and running head first into the first sign of danger?”

“Well, I wasn’t helping anyone by sitting in a room as my city fell.”

“The best way you can help is by staying alive, and the city is fine. Queen Estelle’s forces have not advanced, and they won’t until—DUCK!”

I rolled to the ground, a splash of water erupting around me, just as an arrow sliced through the air where my head had been. Ayana drew her sword and charged the man with the bow, and I staggered back as two more men emerged from the shadows. Each was at least a head taller than me with arms as thick as the Palace Dungeon’s walls, and they held jagged daggers at their sides. Their eyes of malice trained on me.

I jumped to my feet, tearing the hem of my spring dress.

“What do you want!” I sneered, narrowing my eyes at the pair. They smirked and stomped closer, and I stumbled backward until I was pressed against the stone wall of a building. Just as they were about to close the distance between us, Ayana leaped in front of me, her weapon dripping blood.

“Who’s next?” she uttered through clenched teeth.

“All we need is the princess, Miss. I’m sure ye’d be glad to be rid of the duty,” one of them spat, his accent thick as Crandallan honey.

Traitors.

“Well, you can have me,” I said, stepping closer to the men, “dead, that is, because you’re not getting me any other way.”

I lunged at the man closest to me, driving my dagger into his chest and twisting hard.

“Ahrg!” He stumbled back, pulling me with him as my weapon remained lodged in his chest. I released the hilt just as he began to fall to the ground, but his calloused hands steeled over my arm and brought me to the ground with him.

In a blur of splashing water and blood, I rolled to my side, kicking and elbowing my way out of his grasp. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ayana still in conflict with the second man. Her sword glistened with sun rays as it came down on the man’s hand, lacerating three fingers and sending them into the water at our feet.

A scream shook my vocal cords as a red hot pain shot through my upper arm—I had allowed myself to become distracted for too long. I jumped to my feet and stumbled backward.

My vision danced before me, and I clamped my hand over my wound. My hand was sticky with red as I watched Ayana finish the fight, and I leaned against the stone wall of a building as bile boiled in my stomach.

Just a little longer … no, no, I’ll be okay. There weren’t always dragons in the valley of Basinia, but I will do everything in my power to ensure they remain.

The world went black.