Of Crystal Flames & Dragon Fire

Prologue - The Kyndling

There weren’t always dragons in the valley.

The valley once teemed with people. Towns and villages dotted the landscape, and everyone lived in relative peace. Children played in the streets, and villagers joyously welcomed the seasons with new moon festivals.

But that was before the dragons came.

Before we took refuge underground.

Before we were forbidden to explore the surface.

But I couldn’t care less. Five hundred years had passed since The Great Desolation, and the Elders still forbade anyone from leaving The Dwelling, our underground home and refuge. However, I am determined to see what has become of the land of our ancestors. The Elders said they were trying to protect us, to protect me, the next of the royal bloodline.

Yet I know what it’s like on the surface. I know the Elders’ words are lies.

Hills, once made into a barren wasteland of ash and smoke, now dance with blades of grass waving in the winds. Wildflowers of every kind sprinkle the grasslands in vibrant splashes of color. Small woodland animals make their homes in the ground and trees. Birds craft their nests in the treetops and fill the air with song. This is what dreams and heaven must be made of.

How can anything this breath-taking be so wrong as to invoke punishment if we emerged from the darkness of our cold, craggy abode? And where are the deadly dragons we had been warned about for so long? Where are the dragons that would instantly incinerate men who ventured into the valley?

I want answers - answers the Elders refused to tell my father and grandfather.

That is why I dare to risk my chances again and again. I know that finding the truth is more important than keeping myself within the Elders’ confides of The Dwelling.

That’s why I’ve ventured into the valley again today, but I do not get any answers this time. Just the joy that only freedom, fresh air, and sunlight can give.

The winds carry my soul on their currents, their whispers through the trees creating music in my ears. They blow through my hair and caress my face like a kiss from nature itself. The grass swishes between my legs as I walk across The Valley. Its sweet, earthy scent floats in the air, intermingling with the fragrant bouquet of wildflowers and trees.

The ground beneath my feet is soft from the moist soil and grass instead of hard and rocky. I find a comfortable place on the ground and lay on my back to watch the sky. White wispy clouds streak across the sky in hues of cream and cerulean, while the sun plays hide and seek between them. The clouds’ shadows dance on the flowing grasslands between beams of sunlight.

The sun warms my skin, in stark contrast to the dampness embedded in my bones from living in cold dark mines and tunnels. Everything here encompasses me in a sense of calm and relief. The warmth flooding my body causes me to relax and my eyes close lazily as I peacefully doze off.

Suddenly I gasp and sit straight up from where I lay in the grass. I have no idea how much time has passed. Apprehension seizes my chest. I glance up at the position of the sun and a pit forms in my stomach.

I have to go…now!

I jump to my feet and sprint across the tree line to the edge of the valley. Normally I would stop to study and admire the majestic trunks, wide branches, and rustling leaves, but there is too much at stake. My thighs burn as I charge up the steep hill at the western edge of the valley, willing power through my whole body.

Once I reach the crest, a flat, mildly rocky plateau stretches before me. Smooth jagged rocks of slate protrude from the sparse grass. Tiny cornflower blue buds add a bit of color along this dismal stretch. Beyond it lies the ocean.

Dark gray storm clouds form on the water’s horizon, promising rain and strong winds. Lightning flashes in the distance, followed by the low rumble of thunder. The winds pick up, their damp cold breath cooling my skin and causing goosebumps to rise on my arms and face.

I hurry myself even further, hoping to avoid the oncoming storm. The last thing I need is to be soaked to the bone and dripping wet whilst attempting to sneak home. I dash across the flatland, my lungs stinging and burning inside me. I can feel my cheeks flushing and sweat forming on my brow. All the while, I mutter in between breaths.

I can’t be caught. No one can know what I’ve been doing. Not my parents, not the Guardians, not the Elders. Not anyone.

My father would be absolutely furious if he found out, but he would understand. Like me, he desires answers. However, he fears the consequences from the Elders, if the Guardians caught anyone sneaking out. Their punishment would be worse than anything dragons might do.

Rumors circulated about the last person who snuck to the surface and returned seventeen years ago - Hadrian Baird. Those who remember the incident say scrapes and scars covered his body when he came out of the Elders’ inquisition. They say his hands had turned a charred black and his fingers looked like they had melted off.

After his last public appearance, he was shunned from The Dwelling and set loose in the winding maze of abandoned tunnels to die disgraced and alone from his injuries. He was never seen or heard from again.

The story should have been enough of a deterrent to keep me underground for eternity, but my first trip to the surface left me intoxicated with new-found freedom and wonder. And my determination for the truth trumped any fear of the Elders.

At the edge of the sea, the flatland drops down to rocky cliffs over the water. Angry waves crash violently against the rocks. Sea foam, now a foggy gray from the approaching storm, sprays upward at the impact of the water. To the unsuspecting eye, there seems to be no way down from the cliffs, but to the careful eye, a path zigzags down, leading to a seaside cave.

I cautiously make my way along the rocky path and enter the cave. Walking into its shadowy depths, I approach the back where a small, almost invisible dark hole is hidden by a stack of rocks. I slip my mask up over my nose and bring my hood over my head and enter. When I emerge from the other end of the tunnel, I am back in one of the Dwelling’s exit caverns.

This particular cavern is laid out in the form of a circle. Boulders and stalagmites of various sizes and heights line the perimeter of the cave, leaving the center empty, save for pebbles and stray rocks. The ceiling rises over fifty feet high into a dome with stalactites hanging down from the concave expanse. Torches and lanterns hang from rod iron hooks embedded into the walls of the chamber, illuminating the space in dim light.

I crouch behind the large boulder that hides the tunnel and focus on slowing my labored breathing. I hesitantly peek my head around the side of the boulder and pause for several heartbeats, waiting to hear footsteps approaching. When I hear nothing, I arise from my hiding place.

I need to get out of here quickly before anyone comes to check their patrol point. My soft-soled boots land noiselessly on the stone ground as I hurriedly cross half the length of the cavern.

“Halt!” commands a deep, male voice.

I freeze in my steps and jerk my head around, desperate to find the voice’s owner. A broad, muscular male figure rises from behind a stalagmite, blocking the exit to the rest of The Dwelling. It’s Captain Ruskin, a top ranking leader of the Guardians.

My stomach drops inside me and cold terror travels down my spine. My breath catches in my throat, my mouth suddenly parched. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, causing blood to roar in my ears. My heart reverberates against my chest so violently that I can feel my rib cage and sternum shake.

I’ve been caught.

Surely he won’t recognize me, as I am dressed like his subordinates. Clad in a gray and charcoal uniform and standard sword, I appear to be just another Guardian apprentice. The black mask over my nose rises just beneath my eyes, covering my facial features. My hooded over-tunic shrouds my face in obscurity and keeps my hair hidden from view, and the cloak hanging from my shoulders conceals my feminine figure. For someone to truly recognize me, they would have to see my eyes - a vibrant sapphire blue.

If I can just escape past him and out run him, I can disappear, change, and no one will ever find out.

“Your Highness.”

I stiffen at the captain’s address. Impossible! How does he know?

Something wavy and red catches in my peripheral vision. A tendril of my long, wild red hair enters my vision, and I notice more around the edges of my line of sight.

In my haste to return without detection, my braid had come loose, allowing my fiery auburn waves to gather around my face in a frizzy halo. I curse myself for my carelessness.

“Princess Valda Faolán ,” Captain Ruskin begins, “You are commanded to appear before the Elders for an inquisition on grounds of unlawful exit of The Dwelling, of the endangerment of the people of The Dwelling, and of insubordination and rebellion against the laws set forth by the Elders. Come peaceably, or I will be subject to bringing you in by force.”

Every fiber in me feels weak and feeble as straw. Yet deep-seeded anger slowly begins to boil inside me.

How dare the Elders threaten me and attempt to belittle me! And it has nothing to do with my being a princess. My royal title doesn’t matter to them, having been reduced to nothing more than a ceremonial position within our society meant to keep the royal bloodline alive. What has me brimming with hot white anger and rage is the Elders’ blatant lies and deception about what’s really on the surface.

Lies meant to keep every person in The Dwelling under the Elders’ thumbs and blind to the truth.

I don’t reply, but instead take a step backward. As I do, footsteps shuffle in all directions. My gaze darts around me. Two dozen Guardians and apprentices rise from behind rocks and boulders along the perimeter of the cavern.

My breath quickens. I’m outnumbered. If I try to fight my way out, there is no way I come out of this unscathed, royalty or not. I disobeyed the greatest law of the Elders and of The Dwelling. That may very well end in my death.

If death is how this surrender inevitably ends, then I cannot afford to stand by and be taken. I have no choice but to fight.

“Your Highness,” the captain repeats. “Stand down and lay your weapons on the ground.”

There’s no use in hiding who I am. Slowly my hand rises to my face, and I remove my mask and my hood. I stand up straighter and pull my shoulders back. My chest slowly rises as I inhale a deep, calming breath. I pause for a moment before exhaling the air. Lifting my chin in open defiance, I lock eyes with Ruskin.

His mouth lifts to one side in a menacing half-smile. His yellowing teeth catch and reflect the light from a lantern to his left. He raises his right hand and snaps his fingers, the sound echoing from the chamber walls. Immediately, two of the Guardian apprentices advance toward me, one from the right and one from the left. My gaze remains unwavering as my staring contest with the captain continues.

The apprentice on my left sprints at me and closes the gap. In one swift motion, my arm reaches behind my neck and draws my sword from its sheath on my back. My left leg slides out while my right bends at the knee ever so slightly as I brace myself for combat.

I swing my sword against the apprentices' and sparks fly from both blades. I draw back and parry as he lunges at me. Pivoting myself behind him, I raise my sword and swing it downwards toward him.

The young man howls in pain as my blade slices through the backside of his tunic and vest. He falls to his knees and his blade slides from his hand. Shifting my weight, I shove him down to the ground with my foot and use his back as a springboard to leap over him.

When I land my jump, I glance back at him to see that he has fully collapsed, a dark line spreading and growing across his back. A small twinge of guilt creeps into my consciousness. He’s just following orders. After all, I’m the one who broke the law.

But there’s no time to waste or second guess myself because the second apprentice begins to charge me at full speed. I pick up the first apprentice’s sword in my left hand, now allowing me to fight with two blades. I pivot to rotate out of the reach of his blade, but its tip slices through the left sleeve of my tunic and into my skin. I hiss as pain radiates through my arm and shoulder from the wound. The extra sword falls from my hand and clatters on the stone.

The second apprentice slashes down toward me, and I drop to one knee to block him. Both hands grip the hilt of my sword over my head blocking his blade. He stands over me, pressing down, the pressure of his attack wearing bitterly on my injured arm. Releasing one hand from my sword, I reach into my left boot with my wounded hand, pull out a dagger, and slice into the ligaments on the inside of his upper thigh, just underneath the hip joint, and the ligament along his inner knee.

He passes out and collapses in a heap.

When I look up, another half a dozen Guardians begin their march toward me. There’s no way out this time.

As I brace myself for the biggest battle of my life, a yell echoes off the walls. Everyone stops, including me, and turns toward the cavern’s opening. Shadows race along the wall as someone charges down the rocky corridor.

“Stop!”

Father!

My stomach lurches inside me. He can’t see this. He can’t find out. My defiance will destroy him.

My father, King Valdan, rounds the corner and into view. He rushes past Captain Ruskin, but his feet slide and skid to a sudden stop upon seeing me standing over the two injured, unconscious apprentices. His broad, strong shoulders rise and fall in sync with his labored breathing. His red hair, now peppered with gray from age, sticks to his brow and neck, and the sweat from his sprint flattens his usually frizzy curls. A mixture of fear, confusion, anger, and understanding swim in his steel blue eyes.

“Val, what have you done?” he gasps, his voice breathy in disbelief.

My breath hitches in my throat, and tears prick at my eyes. I snap my gaze away, unable to meet his. My skin crawls as shame begins to run through my insides under his steady gaze.

Time seems to freeze in place as the king and his daughter cannot speak for the first time.

Captain Ruskin faines a cough and clears his throat, drawing me out of my stupor.

“Your Highness, King Valdan,” he begins. “Princess Valda has been charged with–”

“I know her charge!” my father snaps at him.

The captain smirks and a low, sarcastic chuckle bubbles from his chest. His eyes gleam with a sense of victory.

“Then you of all people know the consequences, my King,” he states smugly.

He nonchalantly waves his hand at the six Guardians surrounding me to continue.

“Take her” he commands.

“No!” my father bellows. He begins to charge to protect me.

Ruskin waves his hand again, and two other Guardians take hold of my father and wrestle him down to the ground. Father bats at the men holding him like insects, and pushes his way back onto his feet. Four more Guardians join the others and drag him to the ground again, this time pinning his limbs to the stone floor.

I am so astounded by the attack on my father that I fail to notice half-a-dozen Guardians beginning to surround me. I snap my attention back to my own battle as I tighten my grip on my sword.

But it’s too late.

The Guardians seize me from all directions. One of them grabs my wrist and violently twists it. I cry out as searing pain radiates through my wrist and up my forearm. My grip loosens on my sword, and it is yanked from my hand. Now unarmed, the Guardians take their advantage and force me to my knees.

I glance up at my father to see his continual, yet pointless struggle to reach me. My heart constricts, knowing this is the first and last time he won’t be able to save me, won’t be able to protect me. His hand reaches out toward me and his eyes overflow with tears. One of the men holding him down lands a violent fist in his side, causing him to writhe in pain.

The Guardians press on my shoulders and shove me down on my back. The cavern’s dark ceiling and their hazy shadows fill my vision . My father’s howls and groans flood my ears as the men beat their king into submission.

Rage slowly invades my body, bubbling inside me like boiling water.

No - more like fire.

No one hurts my father! No one lies to him!

My fury spreads through my entire being, like a coil being undone for the first time. I’ve never felt so enraged, so full of indignation. My limbs tingle and sting, as if an actual flame has been set ablaze within me.

The hate and violence overtake me like a storm. White hot anger fills me to the brim, and the edges of my vision begin to cloud with tendrils that resemble silver flames.

My body burns and stings from the sensation. Now all I feel is fire and pain. The silvery, white flames consume my vision, and I can no longer see anything around me.

What is happening to me?

My panic rises. I am no longer in control of my body.

My father’s cries now sound distant and far away.

The Guardians continue to hold me down, even though I thrash about in pain and panic as the fiery tension builds inside me. Hot tears fall from the corners of my eyes and down the sides of my face. I close my eyes in an attempt to rid my eyes of their burning and stinging, but it’s no use.

I fill my lungs with a deep gulp and cry out. My scream echoes throughout the cavern, ricocheting off the walls and ceiling. A blinding flash of light goes off, piercing my closed eyelids and stinging the backs of my retinas. A rush of hot wind circles about me, the ball of tension around my chest suddenly evaporating. The deafening sound of an explosion causes ringing in my ears.

I lay there for several moments, breathing heavily, waiting for the ringing in my ears to stop. Sweat pours from my temples and beads form on the palms of my hands. My exhausted body quivers as the fiery heat subsides and fades. I blink wearily as my vision slowly clears and returns.

And then I realize no one holds me down. In fact, an eerie silence fills the cavern.

I hear shuffling and scraping nearby as my hearing returns. My frame stiffens. I try to move, to shift, but my body won’t budge. The shuffling gets closer.

My father’s face consumes my line of sight. His eyes are moist and bloodshot. Small cuts line the right side of his face where it had been shoved into the rocky sediment, and the top of his lip bleeds from his struggle with the Guardians.

He cradles me in his arms, just as he did when I was hurt as a child. He gently brushes my damp hair off of my face and habitually tucks it behind my ear. His eyes flicker with fear and uncertainty.

“Val, are you hurt?” he whispers.

My mouth opens but no sound comes out. I lick my lips and swallow to moisten my parched mouth.

“I d-don’t t-think so. I just c-can’t m-move,” I croak. My voice sounds strained and hoarse. “W-what happened?”

“We need to get you up. You have to get out of here…now!” my father replies, ignoring my question.

His tone, though barely an audible whisper, overflows with urgency. I knit my brows together in confusion.

“Why? What happened?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Father?”

“When you screamed, there was a blinding explosion of white. The Guardians on top of you were thrown in the air and consumed by the light. The others holding me were blown off and thrown against the walls. They’re dead.”

My heart and chest feel like they collapse on themselves. Shock fills my senses. This can’t be true. Did I really just kill nearly a dozen Guardians?

“But - how? It doesn’t make sense.” My voice quivers in disbelief and my breath becomes shallow. So many questions, possibilities, assumptions race through my thoughts.

My father shakes his head.

“If they find you - if they catch you - they will kill you. You have to escape to the surface.”

“What? Why? No! No, I can’t leave you!”

“You will die!” he hisses. His harsh tone warns me that he isn’t making a suggestion. He’s commanding me to flee.

My father’s hardened features soften slightly. His eyes fill with warmth and love, and his mouth curves into a soft smile.

“Val, I–”

Suddenly, he gasps and his features twist in agony. His entire frame becomes taut against me. His eyes gloss over with pain before they roll back. He releases his embrace and collapses next to me.

A dagger protrudes from his back.

My dagger.

Captain Ruskin’s maniacal laughter rumbles behind my father. Adrenaline courses through my muscles like an electric charge at the sound. I jump to my feet and out of reach of the deranged man. My fingers tremble with grief and rage.

The captain, bruised, bloody and singed from what had happened, sways on his knees a few paces away from Father. His eyes are dark and menacing as his face shines with triumph over his action against my father.

“Well, what are you going to do now, little princess,” he taunts. “Kill me with your new power?”

I look down at my trembling hands, my breathing rapid and shaky. I don’t know how or even if I can summon the power he speaks of. I don’t even know what it is or if it’s real.

But that doesn’t matter. I don’t need it.

A sword lies on the ground to my right. I swallow and sense the rage returning. But this time, it feels tampered, unlike the storm before.

“No,” I mummer, my voice oddly calm.

I bend down and pick up the sword, firmly gripping its hilt. Slowly, methodically I step toward the captain. He stiffens, anticipating a deadly strike, but his dark stare remains unwavering.

I raise my arm and slash at him. He yells out in pain and doubles over, clawing at his arm and chest as blood seeps through his ruined tunic. I lift a foot and kick him in the face, and he falls on his back, cupping his instantly broken nose. Placing my foot over the deep cut on his chest, I lean over him. He grimaces at the pressure placed on his wound.

“Death is too good for you,” I state, my voice deathly, unnervingly calm. “You’re going back to the Elders to tell them to bide their time, to watch their power carefully.”

He wheezes out a sarcastic laugh as blood drips from his nostrils and down the sides of his face. “That’s a lot of unmerited confidence for such a little girl. Do you honestly think you can take down a sovereign power on your own?”

I shift more of my weight on him, and he winces and sucks in a sharp breath.

“And you,” I snarl, ignoring him.

I reach into my boot and retrieve a second but much smaller dagger. Ruskin’s eyes widen as I bring the blade closer to his face. It takes every effort in me not to kill him where he lies. I could avenge my father’s death now. Instead, I cut a “V” on his left cheek, deep enough to scar. He hisses and squirms under the pain of my blade.

“I’ll return. And when I do, you’ll be the first to die. That’s a promise,” I warn.

I hear the rumble of footsteps and snap my head up. The flickering light from torches and lanterns cast feathery shadows on the chiseled tunnel walls. The captain bares his blood-stained teeth at me, his reddened eyes dancing with triumph. I grab him by his coarse brown hair and slam his head into the ground. His eyes roll back and he stills.

Releasing him, I rise to my feet. My whole body trembles and quivers in shock as I realize everything that just happened - everything I’ve just done. Tears pool in the corners of my eyes, and the dagger falls from my hand with a deafening clatter.

The footsteps and yells of the incoming Guardians near the cavern’s opening, pulling me back to reality. Scrambling to collect my sword and small dagger, I snatch a fallen Guardian sword on my way out.

I step toward my father’s fallen form, my dagger still lodged in his back, to say one last goodbye, but there is no time.

Instead I sprint to the boulder concealing the exit. I stop to the side of it to glance back at my father, grief wearing away at the adrenaline still coursing through me..

“I love you, Father,” I murmur.

I take one deep breath and duck behind the boulder.

My life inside The Dwelling is over.