Of Smoke and Flame

The winds blew through the branches of the trees in the Blackwood Forest, their song soft and lilting. Drying leaves crunched beneath her feet as she slowly walked, keeping a watchful eye on her surroundings. The Blackwood Forest was unsafe for humans, and though she carried the blood of dragons in her veins, these woods were dangerous for her as well. The soft glow of dawn peaked through the trees, illuminating her path to the Grove of the Keepers. In recent events, more souls came to pass than was expected, and as queen, it was her duty to understand the issues at hand. “Majesty, I trust your stroll was pleasant?” Rygar, an aging reed of a man who stood against the tall pine marking the entrance to the grove, bowed in greeting. “The birdsong will be here soon, Rygar. And with it, another parting of souls. Tell me, has there been much need for aid?” Pushing himself off the tree, the Keeper moved to walk beside her. “The numbers grow steadily, and it is quite clear that something is happening. But the cause is what I am not so sure of. There may be some discord in the south, as many of the souls that come to pass are either human or Fey.” She nodded.

The walk into the grove was silent, a sense of disquietude settling upon the pair. Small tinkling streams and the soft sound of the wind was all that could be heard within a forest on the cusp of waking. The further they walked, the more noticeable the apparitions became. While the beings were still severely translucent, the soft moans of discomfort and despair could be heard over the din of nature’s song. “Do you see the children, Rygar? There are so many of them. Why are there so many children in this place of transience?” Rygar shook his head and kept his slow, steady pace. She attempted to count the souls as she passed them, eventually tiring as there were far too many to count. The grove was slowly becoming congested. While no wounds were presented, if she focused hard enough, the pain of the departing was almost unbearable. A steady weight upon her rapidly beating heart.

Above her, the birdsong had begun its morning chorus, and with it came a wyvern cautiously edging the grove. The creature kept its tail close to its center, as if protecting a wound should danger arrive. She quickly came to the defensive, shifting and shedding her seemingly human skin for her protective coat of impenetrable scales that shimmered opalescent in the pale morning light. Though her size was average for a dragon, she towered twice as tall as the wyvern, attempting to intimidate the creature into leaving. This was no place for the creatures of the night, who stalked and killed any being who moved. As she approached, she noticed a pale hand resting against the creature’s side. The hand was much too small to be that of an adult being, nor marred by scars from labor or combat. The dragon huffed, soft billows of steam erupting from her nostrils. 'Release the child, and no harm will come to you'. Though she had never attempted to communicate with a wyvern in such a way, she would have to try. Any attempt was better than rushing in, potentially killing the child in the process of attempted to free them.

Cautiously, the wyvern lowered its tail, allowing the child at its side to be seen. “Oh, sweet heavens, Ry, I believe that is the child of Rowen’s own royal family.” Rygar said. His voice was breathless with disbelief, holding an ache she herself possessed within her own breast. The child’s eyes glittered a brilliant emerald, the crimson of her dress contrasting with her pale skin. The child clung to the wyvern as if it was a lifeline, protecting her from the horror of the woods. Even if the wyvern itself could have devoured the small thing in an instant.

She began her slow approach once more, recovering from the initial shock of finding the girl alive and whole. 'What is your name, small one? And why have you come such a way from home?' The child looked down at her small feet, as if attempting to think of some lie. “I am to be a sacrifice, majesty, for my country’s freedom.” The child’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “My name is Lithyna.”

She knelt to sniff the child, checking for the scent of blood. But only the scent of woods and light stood out. Lithyna reached toward the dragon, placing her small hand on the smooth scales of the dragon’s snout. She huffed, causing the girl to startle and giggle. “Am I to be your sacrifice, ma’am?” The girl’s voice was small, her large green eyes sad. 'No little one, you will not be my sacrifice. You will be no one’s sacrifice. I shall take you away from here and protect you until you are big enough and strong enough to take care of yourself.' The girl frowned. “But I can already protect myself. And mama and papa need me to be a sacrifice. Otherwise, they say the magic won’t work. The dragons won’t protect them if the blood toll is not paid.” She growled, startling the girl. “The dragons do not help cowards who send little girls to their deaths.” The change in form was almost instantaneous. Trading her scales for a softer form, she grasped Lithyna by the waist, hoisting the small child into her arms. “You, my dear, possess something I have not seen in ages. No human child is ever protected by a wyvern, nor unafraid of the forest itself. Shall we head back to the castle and see your mother and father? I believe I need to have a word with them.”

The walk through the woods was filled with cheerful laughter as the child pointed out the songbirds and the squirrels that flitted through the trees. Lithyna clung to her neck with enthusiasm, her voice much like a babbling stream. “Look there! A blue bird! And there’s another little squirrel! What’s it got in its cheeks? They look so full!” She did not allow the child to feel her warm anger, instead showering her in adoration. “Yes, little one, the forest is full of many creatures. Some more extraordinary than the others, but all unique and beautiful on their own.” By mid-day, the pair had reached the castle grounds where a guard escorted them to the throne room of Rowen.

“Rybella, it is always a pleasure when your presence graces these somber hallways.” The King of Rowen was a tall man, for the humans. His stature nearly reached the shoulders of the Dragon Queen, his dark hair brushing his shoulders and his green eyes shining with hope. “Angar, tell me why I found your daughter wandering alone in the blackwood forest.” Rybella’s voice was soft, in the way a blade sounds during unsheathing. It was Marybella to speak next, an attempt to protect her husband. “It is the Parthenians, your majesty. King Ristow has declared war upon our kingdom.” Rybella’s gaze shifted to the slight beauty of queen Marybella. “You send your only heir into the forest where she could have been killed? And then what of your lineage? You have no others, Mary.” Marybella hung her head, her blonde hair falling to obscure her face. “Please Rybella, we need your help. We know you can keep our daughter safe, and our country is desperately in need of aid.” A soft scuffle of little feet could be heard throughout the empty throne room. “Lithyna, there’s no need to be afraid.” Rybella reached a hand behind her, holding the small child closer against her leg. “Is this why you sent her in the garments of the sacrificed? For me to protect her? Or did you intend for her to be your blood toll?” Rybella’s words hung acrid in the air, stinging the targets of her hot anger. “Angar, I will keep your child in my custody. But if you wish for aid, learn to fight your own battles. I do not know what you have done to anger the Fey, but as of now, it is no business of mine.”

The king and queen deflated, hope leaving their tired eyes. “The Parthen war began in early spring. We had not seen King Ristow in months, but word of his growing madness has spread to each corner of this world. He slaughtered the outer towns first, torching our crops and poisoning the water. He has been making steady progress and his forces only seem to grow. We have lost over fifty thousand people to his madness. Sacrificing our heir was the only way.” Angar had lost his temper, the madness he claimed Ristow held had begun placing its icy fingers around his own mind. “Our armies are depleted. They’re sick with hunger and disease due to that abominable magic Ristow wields. We should strike now, before it’s too late. Lest we all suffer an ill fate at the mad king’s hand.”

Her eyes glinted silver in the torchlight as she stalked towards the cowardly pair. Her expression soured, displeasure emanating off her towering frame. “You sent a three-year-old child into the Blackwood Forest alone, Angar. Sporting the crimson shade known to all who live within those trees as a free feast. If I had not been within the forests, the wyvern that walked with the child could have taken her as its breakfast. Fed on her bones for weeks. And then what would you have done? If your sacrifice had not made its way to its intended, you would still be left stranded.” Marybella placed her hands against her face, a choked sob echoing through the chamber. “No, you do not get to weep for your mistakes. For your cowardice. You have lost your daughter, Marybella. Whether or not it was your decision makes no difference to me. She will no longer be Lithyna Cedara of Rowen. Instead, she shall be Lithyna Corpelus, princess of Novendra.”