The Road Through Flames and Nightmares

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There wasn’t always a dragon curled up at her feet either, but that’s where Magdalena liked him. If he was there, she knew Dizzy wasn’t getting into mischief. He wasn’t the best dragon, but he was a sweetheart. She couldn’t blame him for acting more like a puppy dog than dragon though, he didn’t really have any role models to learn from. Not since every other dragon had been wiped out.

After the cleansing the Faei had brought down upon her kingdom so long ago, all the dragons had been slaughtered, except one tiny green egg. After hundreds of years living in harmony with the winged creatures, all it took was a few days of insanity to annihilate them.

Her family had fought hard, the whole kingdom had risen up against the attackers, but to no avail. The Faei forces had killed the dragons, her family, and thousands of her countrymen. Mags had been saved by her old tutor, Master Ephraim. She’d always thought he hated her for all her tantrums and escapes from his stuffy chambers. But after that day, she listened to him with everything she had.

They’d hidden in the secret tunnels and passageways in the castle, long lost to everyone except Master Ephraim. He’d grown up wandering these halls as the grandson of the former tutor to her father, and kept them a secret until the day they were needed the most.

Mags remembered that day with what once was fear, but had turned to rage. Rage that boiled in her veins, driving her towards revenge. The details were so clear in her mind, her last normal day as a wild princess.

***

Mags awoke to the sound of a chicken clucking far too closely to her head, with the sun blinding her through the broken roof of the abandoned barn she’d fallen asleep in last night. She shoo-ed the feathered alarm away and sat up, stretching her stiff limbs, and attempted to pluck the straw and leaves from her raven hair.

She peered up at the sun, trying to ascertain what time it was, and the tolling of a nearby clock tower confirmed her suspicion. It was almost nine o’clock, meaning that once she got back to her home, she was in worlds of trouble.

Home wasn’t just a house, it was the palace. Mags wasn’t just a wayward traveler, wandering the woods, she was actually Princess Magdalena of Draesau, youngest sister to the heir of her parents kingdom. Her sister Dorabella was meeting the eligible Faei suitors today, and Mags was expected to be bright-eyed and presentable as part of the royal family.

Her parents, the King and Queen, had reached an agreement with the leaders of the Faei, the people of the forests surrounding over half of their country. Beyond the Faeiwood were the smaller but more aggressive kingdoms of Estrait and Ruclia, who were allegedly in talks to combine forces, march through the forest and conquer the Faei, then attack their kingdom of Draesau. So this presentation of suitors was particularly important, allying man with Faei, and joining their people, as well as their bloodlines, to discourage any uprising from foreign forces.

Mags threw her head back and groaned. As the youngest of seven sisters, she was the least schooled in politics, etiquette, and the social graces that usually came with being a princess. Her mother had all but given up on her by the time she was ten years old, having almost as difficult a time with her fifth and sixth children, the twins. But raising all these girls and teaching them the ways of ladies in a palace, Queen Esalia was frankly fed up. Her husband, the King Rowan, insisted they keep trying for a boy, which was how they ended up with seven children. But after Magdalena was born, he thankfully had abandoned that quest.

The king and his youngest daughter got along like father and son though. He took her hunting from a young age, and had taught her to ride a dragon before she could ride a horse. For her tenth birthday, he presented her with a beautiful blue dragon egg, and from it was born her very own companion. Mags had named him Iztorin, after the famed dragon of old. She called him Izzy for short, and they were two peas in a pod. Clumsy, graceless, and socially awkward, Izzy and Mags were a duo with their own agenda.

They explored the whole kingdom together, from sea to border, and as far into the forest as they could get without notice from Faei scouts. The impending wedding would open up so much more space for them to explore, though their Faei neighbors were a bit more leery of dragons than most. Fire and trees were not the best combo, and while Mags knew that Izzy wouldn’t do any damage, the forest-dwelling folk were less sure of his intentions, so for everyone’s sake, they avoided notice on their excursions into the woods.

Mags gathered her pack, shook the straw off her cloak, and whistled sharply, calling Izzy to come find her. He was most likely hunting for wild sheep or deer on the edges of the forest, so he shouldn’t be too far.

It didn’t take more than a minute for those huge wings to stir up the air and send leaves and twigs flying back into Mags’ black mess of hair.

She sighed and rolled her eyes as his massive four legs touched down, the blue and purple scales iridescence casting rainbows. He leveled his steel grey eyes with hers, leaned his massive forehead down, and snorted, throwing another barrage of debris into the air. Mags laughed and shook her head.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that right?” She tickled him behind the ear, the one soft spot dragons had, but Izzy’s was extra sensitive. At only a few years old, he was still considered a juvenile, and he acted like it. He frequently snort- laughed, not dissimilar to Mags’ ridiculous laughter when she couldn’t contain herself, and he would run away from teeth cleaning and all vegetables, much like your typical sassy child.

“We’d better get back home and get ready, lest Mother comes unwound again,” she sighed and swung herself up onto the scaly back.

Izz snorted again and took a running start before launching them into the sky. The sun beat down on them, but the breeze tempered the sweltering heat down to a deliciously warm summer day. The perfect day for a swim in the river, Mags thought to herself. But they were already late, and even as the seventh child, she’d unfortunately still be missed.

They sped towards the castle, and in a desperate attempt at minimizing her mother’s anger, Mags jumped off Izzy’s back and landed on the balcony outsider her bedroom window. She eased the door open, tripped over the billowing curtains, and rolled headfirst into her room. Landing breathless on her back, right at her mother’s feet.

The woman’s stern face loomed over her, a tightly knit brow and pursed lips told her she’d failed her attempted to lessen whatever ire she’d earned.

“Well well, Princess. Out for early morning mischief already? Or did you even come home last night? This behavior is hardly befitting a princess,” she rolled her eyes, “Come now, I’ve brought your gown and new hair pins. You’ll need to bathe, of course. You smell like a wild animal. It was hot an hour ago, but there’s no time to draw you another one. You’ll have to make do with whatever lukewarm water is left.”

Mags swore her mother relished in making her uncomfortable. She hated new gowns, hated having pins stabbing her in the head, and she especially despised taking baths.

“Yes mother,” she muttered through clenched teeth, easing herself into the cold water.

“I’ll be back in 10 minutes, don’t forget to scrub, and you’re not getting out of wearing a corset today,” she called, almost giddy.

Magdalena groaned as she sunk beneath the bubbles, not noticing the gradual warming of the bath water.